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Jul 27, 2018 2:17:35 GMT -5
Post by venus on Jul 27, 2018 2:17:35 GMT -5
" I was the one with the world at my feet
Got us a battle, leave it up to me."
Got us a battle, leave it up to me."
The day she turned sixteen, Cecilia fared the trek down the ill-maintained path to the very edge of the kingdom, where the wall barring them off from the world almost reached the clouds. The snow beneath her boots was soft, gave way with no worry. White flecks clung to the hem of her cloak that skirted the floor as she strode down the walkway, soon leaving the thick fabric damp. In a sea of white, not yet disturbed by the rest of the world, the young girl's black head of hair was easily spotted, bobbing and weaving under branches of barren trees in the way. It was tradition; the seer of the kingdom would tell you a pearl of wisdom, a foretelling plucked from what was seen in the future, something given to every sixteen year old as a 'coming of age' custom embedded deep in their history. On this quiet winter morning Cecilia's birthday marked the true beginning of winter; the world outside the warm hearth of homes with puffing chimneys and lit furnaces had been heavily blanketed with untouched snow during their slumber. The first snowfall of the year. It foreshadowed the harsh season to come, the loss of yet another noble, and the start of a cycle no lone person should bare.
Hot breath clouds into steam before her face, pale complexion painted pink by the cold. It seeped through her heavy winter cloak, through the boots her mother had sewn by hand, settled deep in her bones by the time Cecilia reached the ramshackle hut. A brisk knock, and the tall girl ducked through the door, grateful for the immediate wave of heat from the fireplace within.
Sat at a table on the far side of the room, a woman with deep set eyes and draped heavily in colorful robes beckoned her to sit. "Sit down, Cecilia, sit down. I've been waiting for quite the while to see you, child." As the girl got closer, she could see the fine lines weathering her face, hair almost entirely silver grey, a world trapped in her eyes and worry lines growing deeper when her gaze fixed on Cecilia. She greeted the young teen with a smile clouded by a dark mood that settled between them. Cecilia wasn't sure what to make of it, but still sat patiently and watched the wise seer fold her hands together on the table.
"Cecilia, sole daughter of Vivienne of the Montgomery noble family. Only sixteen, yet the most proficient student the tutors speak of. Talented in swordsmanship and potion brewing alike. Too sharp to be stuck in a dreary old kingdom, don't you reckon." The seer stated these facts bluntly, and a wide grin split her aged face like an open wound. "Cecilia Montgomery, you will die of a broken heart."
The words of the wise seer and her inevitable foresight hung with Cecilia to the day of the coronation.
Sat upon her head, the silver crown glinted like a blade in the sun, ready to cleave her at a moment's notice.
The beginning of the cycle was set in place the day of her eighteenth birthday. She offered herself to the throne when the other royals hesitated. Cecilia did not flinch.
Eventually the seasons shifted, from that bright spring into an inviting summer. Summer calmed and autumn leaves fell as the harvest grew. And then, the crops died off, as they did every winter. The kingdom grew gray, devoid of life. It, whatever it was, drained the land slowly but surely as a warning, a taste of what would come if It's wants were not sated.
"SEND YOUR ROYALS TO THE HEART OF THE WOODS, AND THEIR BLOOD WILL MELT THE ICE."
Otherworldly whispers could be heard from the treeline, when one stepped outside the kingdom's walls into the forest beyond. Headed far east, fulfilling her duty as the sole queen of Zephyr, Cecilia trekked through the still forest with a sword at her hip and fear deep in her chest. The monstrosity had haunted the kingdom for generations, calling for noble blood to be spilt, to sate it's hunger for another year. She was not sure if this would work.
Deeper and deeper into the woods, the creature's influence created an aphotic zone in what was once a deciduous forest filled with life. The canopy of dying trees let in no light, only trunks and snow as far as the eye could see. It was slowly seeping the life out of the land it touched - trees and wildlife became barren, hard like clay. Only the snow under her feet was soft, enough where her footsteps were but light shifts of movement. Cecilia unsheathed her sword, staring into the void and praying to the seer herself.
"ANOTHER LAMB SENT TO THE SLAUGHTER. YOUR SACRIFICE IS MEANINGLESS. ONLY SO MANY OF NOBLE FAMILY CAN REMAIN."
A flash of black, like a tendril, reached out and beheaded Cecilia where she stood. Blood meets ice, cold and congealing. Her head rolls into in the snow with a sickening thud.
You will die of a broken heart.
Her heart continued beating, pumping splashes of red to paint the white canvas beneath, feeding the beast and it's curse on her kingdom for one of many times to come. Cecilia's body, limp in the cold, picked itself up and propped her head back onto her sentient body. This was met with an otherworldly roar.
"I will not be eaten."
Summer rolled in like a breeze through tall grass, slowly but surely rippling and warming the land. The sun was stark and high in the sky, Cecilia's scar was healing well, and the town bustled with its usual gumption. Summer Solstice was in full swing by noon.
Cecilia could never stand all the prissy pampering as servants and seamstresses plucked at her appearance. Taller than the rest of the women streaming in and out of her boudoir, she stood before a full body mirror, draped with fabric in a fashionable shade of purple. It was a day of partying, meant for fun and enjoying the beginning of summer, and so she wanted something more comfortable for a lighthearted event. Public appearances ran few and far between, but Cecilia wanted to keep the public's morale up and made sure they knew their ruler. Her dress started at her throat with a turtleneck, as usual, and spanned down from a fitted waist to a breathable and flowy long skirt that kept it lightweight. Her shoulders were pale and bare, and off them hung a thin translucent cape that shimmered with every movement. Summery for sure. Not as stuffy as the other robes they had stashed away for her. It would've put her in a better mood if she hadn't dreaded the event of the day.
One servent fussed as she arranged her thick hair, another patted on some makeup (very minimal, at her request) to give color to her lips and cheeks, and behind her the seamstress clucked away and tightened her corset. "Are we almost done?" Cecilia turned around and politely asked the head servant. Almost robotically, the woman smiled and nodded. "O-of course, your royal highness. You will look as lovely as a lilac for this summer afternoon."
It was common for the servants of the castle to tread lightly around Cecilia, treating her like a porcelain doll ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. The disconnect was certainly lonely. No one to have a real conversation with or keep her company. Trapped in a castle flowing with gifts she did not want or need, treated like a figurehead more than an actual ruler, keeping up appearances to hide her grisly secret. The people knew Cecilia was keeping them safe, but the details of how had become obscured over so many years.
For every summer solstice, to give their thanks and express their gratitude to their immortal queen, the kingdom held a ceremony where guilds, noble families, and any other groups would present their gifts in exchange for her continuous sacrifice. It was...mostly for show nowadays. The public only saw what was presented to them; Cecilia, once princess, now queen, sole ruler to sit at the throne, never dying or disappearing as the previous line of royalty did when met with their fate. Nobles, guildmasters, seers, other magic weavers and people of importance knew more details, that was certain. But, they were content with the situation. Cecilia fulfilled her duty to her people, suffered in silence, and nobody is any the wiser.
The scene changes to the kingdom's dark-haired queen, sat upon her throne placed in the open courtyard before the towering castle. As always, Cecilia looked poised, like a puppet posed carefully, only speaking when spoken to, only interacting when interacted with. She was intimidating and cold despite the lovely warm day. Dark hair washed over her pale shoulders like spilled ink. She had gone through this scene many times by now. All around the square, lampposts were stringed with ribbons and decorations, brilliant purples and golds above their heads shimmering in a beautiful display. Guards stood at both sides of her throne with silver armor that glinted in the sunlight, both men parted to allow the presentation of gifts to resume. Music could be heard a ways off, some townfolk still milled through the streets, celebrating and drinking, perusing wares at the stands throughout the town's square. But, this was one of the main spectacles that would go on through the afternoon. After this, if permitted, Cecilia could have a go at the swordsmanship tournament. That would be a reward for her sitting through what was before her now.
"From Zephyr's royal jeweller himself, a silver tiara encrusted with amethysts and moonstones for the royal highness herself." The jeweller's assistant bowed before the throne, and in his hands sat a lovely tiara with brilliant stones decorating it. One of many, left gathering dust in the castle's showroom. Cecilia knew their craftsmanship was unparalleled, she wore one of the originals upon her head this very day, but so many had already begun to pile up over the years, it was unnecessary by now.
"Skillfully done by Sir Belvedere, as always. I thank you for this generous gift." Cecilia gave the poor metalsmith's assistant a cold nod, and the gift was swiftly taken away by a castle worker's hand. From the throne, a guard called, "Please come forth and present your offering."