Eternity RPC Board
Balfonheim, Adwest (23 Marth 1588)
A high-pitched giggle permeated the Amber Hall of Alcombey Palace, one of the most well-preserved historical palaces in the Adwestene capital. But the multitude of dining furniture were nowhere to be seen, signifying the absence of souls except for one. Even the chandeliers of gold and crystal which majestically lined up the hall shimmered only faintly in the solitary space. It was a couple of hours past the afternoon mark.
In the middle of the marble floor sat a young girl not more than ten years of age, her long hair untied and her right hand clutching a short crayon. To her immediate surroundings stood two sentries whose uniforms resembled the shade of the midnight skies. Her guards carried automatic guns - their attached bayonets sharpened rigorously - and kept their glance steady on the entrance to the Amber Hall.
The same way the sentries kept themselves focused, the girl had all her attention fixated on a page with a half-colored picture of a rose. She stopped from filling in the picture with her crayon every few seconds, sometimes to look at her picture and sometimes to echo another chortle of amusement. For her, life could be so simple and yet so satisfactory as this, even if she would outgrow her coloring books and crayons.
It was not to be.
As the girl finished working on the rose bulb, her two sentries suddenly came alive, appearing as if shocked by a burst of electricity. They sprung to attention, gripping their rifles tightly and stiffening their postures, as the sight of an elderly yet robust man greeted them. The man entered the Amber Hall tailed by several others in the same age bracket and garbed in formal wear. Some of his companions were conversing silently, others still were completely mum as they followed.
The man who headed the group crossed the hall in a brisk fashion, uninterested in anything or anyone save for leaving. Yet he and his cohorts came to a standstill - the girl in the middle of the hall ran towards them with a jovial expression.
"Daddy!"
She came to the man and hugged him, her crayon still on her right hand and the torn page of the rose on the other.
The stoic expression already plastered across the man's face became even grimmer with this gesture. He took his daughter's torn page, looked at it without any words, then crumpled it and threw it to the floor. The girl was expressionless as she saw this, although the act did not deter her; she would pick up her coloring book and attempt to flip through its pages in a proud showcase to her father, her big and youthful grin returning almost immediately.
"While waiting for you, I did this....and this....and this rainbow over Stormwind is my favorite, daddy!"
The man sighed, regretful he had neither the will nor the time to appreciate what was before him. With one hand he silenced the company around him and bent on one knee so as to face his daughter closely. His round eyes, heavy with exhaustion, met his daughter's, and he gripped her lanky arm tightly. The girl stopped herself from wincing in pain at her father's hold, although by now her cheerful demeanor had been demolished.
"Why are you still here? You should be studying" remarked the man tersely.
His daughter looked to her feet as she answered. "It's spring break daddy...and I wanted to surprise you"
"You shouldn't be doing this, it's dangerous outside the palace! You should be at home with your brother and not putting yourself at risk and wasting my time!"
The yells which now came from the man caused tears to roll down the side of his daughter's pale cheeks, although she suppressed her urge to cry knowing that would only bring a hit from her father. Yet to conceal her wet face was futile now.
"You're crying again? you do nothing but cry and wet your bed and be a burden! Your mother....you already killed her, and now you are intent on killing me as well with your foolishness?"
The man forcefully cast her daughter aside, who ended up silent on the floor and with a visible bruise on her arms. She kept silent, afraid of her father - her father who was beloved by the Adwestene people for his kindness and humility but who placed all blame on her for his wife's death during childbirth. The girl cursed at that irony, that such a man committed to his people's welfare would easily hurt his own kin. She paid the price for that twist of fate, and despite believing that she indeed was the cause of her mother's demise, she still did her best to earn the affection of her father. At times like this, she would think he was too far gone.
"Bring her home and keep her there until further orders. If I see her outside Stormwind, you will both be dismissed" commanded the man to the two sentries. Collecting himself, he continued his march to the exit.
The girl glanced wearily at the grey backs of the group which followed to leave, all representative of a heartless and cruel world where her father was king.
She did not weep, unable to find her voice and any more tears. But while her guards struggle to lift her up, her sight began to fade into a sea of blood.
The sea of blood which was crowding her vision became clearer, and the girl found herself in front of a familiar and more recent scene in her life. Before her very eyes lay the lifeless figure of her father, clutched by the hands of her brother. All around her was chaos as people, some even looking like foreigners, struggled to come to safety, discover who murdered the king, or simply come to terms what was happening.
The girl blinked and raised her hands; they were filled with blood, and so was her dress. She stood alone in the chaos and in the death of her father, and she opened her mouth to scream. Nothing still came. She tried, exerting full force to release a sound someone, anyone could hear. But it was all for naught.
"No!" finally came her voice.
Sophia Bernadette Durnador woke up, cold sweat hugging her entire body beneath her nightgown. She was breathing heavily, looking around despite the darkness of her chambers for any sign of the scene which previously invaded her sleeping subconscious.
She relaxed a bit as she deciphered she was not reliving that day in Treiezen 1565 again, but her stir had caused the guards outside her door to come in. They were accompanied by Euram Redever, Prince-Consort of Adwest and father to Sophia's children. He had a concerned look on his face as he approached. He made to address her, but the Queen came to words before he did.
"It is nothing. My father once again attempts to haunt me for being a failure for following in his footsteps. He is dead but remains trouble even in the afterlife of the damned." Sophia said as she got up her bed and went to fetch a drink.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" offered the Prince-Consort to her.
The two never sleep in one room, let alone in one bed, because of the Queen's own desires. They were not in a troubled spot in their relationship, but it sufficed to say that the romance between the two did not burn strongly as the first few years of their courtship and marriage. Sophia saw herself as a Queen and even moreso a Durnador whose right to rule absolutely rested not in his relationship with any man but by virtue of her bloodline and her enlightenment. For her, to marry and procreate was a utilitarian act necessary to preserve the royal line.
Sophia took a second, although as usual she rejected this offer. Yet she walked over to him, the father of her children, and tenderly grazed his cheek with her soft hand. She then looked to his arms; he was carrying their two year-old son, asleep. She managed a smile as she took the baby from Euram.
"We will build a better world for you, Edward. We will deliver you to your destiny as a God among men."
A high-pitched giggle permeated the Amber Hall of Alcombey Palace, one of the most well-preserved historical palaces in the Adwestene capital. But the multitude of dining furniture were nowhere to be seen, signifying the absence of souls except for one. Even the chandeliers of gold and crystal which majestically lined up the hall shimmered only faintly in the solitary space. It was a couple of hours past the afternoon mark.
In the middle of the marble floor sat a young girl not more than ten years of age, her long hair untied and her right hand clutching a short crayon. To her immediate surroundings stood two sentries whose uniforms resembled the shade of the midnight skies. Her guards carried automatic guns - their attached bayonets sharpened rigorously - and kept their glance steady on the entrance to the Amber Hall.
The same way the sentries kept themselves focused, the girl had all her attention fixated on a page with a half-colored picture of a rose. She stopped from filling in the picture with her crayon every few seconds, sometimes to look at her picture and sometimes to echo another chortle of amusement. For her, life could be so simple and yet so satisfactory as this, even if she would outgrow her coloring books and crayons.
It was not to be.
As the girl finished working on the rose bulb, her two sentries suddenly came alive, appearing as if shocked by a burst of electricity. They sprung to attention, gripping their rifles tightly and stiffening their postures, as the sight of an elderly yet robust man greeted them. The man entered the Amber Hall tailed by several others in the same age bracket and garbed in formal wear. Some of his companions were conversing silently, others still were completely mum as they followed.
The man who headed the group crossed the hall in a brisk fashion, uninterested in anything or anyone save for leaving. Yet he and his cohorts came to a standstill - the girl in the middle of the hall ran towards them with a jovial expression.
"Daddy!"
She came to the man and hugged him, her crayon still on her right hand and the torn page of the rose on the other.
The stoic expression already plastered across the man's face became even grimmer with this gesture. He took his daughter's torn page, looked at it without any words, then crumpled it and threw it to the floor. The girl was expressionless as she saw this, although the act did not deter her; she would pick up her coloring book and attempt to flip through its pages in a proud showcase to her father, her big and youthful grin returning almost immediately.
"While waiting for you, I did this....and this....and this rainbow over Stormwind is my favorite, daddy!"
The man sighed, regretful he had neither the will nor the time to appreciate what was before him. With one hand he silenced the company around him and bent on one knee so as to face his daughter closely. His round eyes, heavy with exhaustion, met his daughter's, and he gripped her lanky arm tightly. The girl stopped herself from wincing in pain at her father's hold, although by now her cheerful demeanor had been demolished.
"Why are you still here? You should be studying" remarked the man tersely.
His daughter looked to her feet as she answered. "It's spring break daddy...and I wanted to surprise you"
"You shouldn't be doing this, it's dangerous outside the palace! You should be at home with your brother and not putting yourself at risk and wasting my time!"
The yells which now came from the man caused tears to roll down the side of his daughter's pale cheeks, although she suppressed her urge to cry knowing that would only bring a hit from her father. Yet to conceal her wet face was futile now.
"You're crying again? you do nothing but cry and wet your bed and be a burden! Your mother....you already killed her, and now you are intent on killing me as well with your foolishness?"
The man forcefully cast her daughter aside, who ended up silent on the floor and with a visible bruise on her arms. She kept silent, afraid of her father - her father who was beloved by the Adwestene people for his kindness and humility but who placed all blame on her for his wife's death during childbirth. The girl cursed at that irony, that such a man committed to his people's welfare would easily hurt his own kin. She paid the price for that twist of fate, and despite believing that she indeed was the cause of her mother's demise, she still did her best to earn the affection of her father. At times like this, she would think he was too far gone.
"Bring her home and keep her there until further orders. If I see her outside Stormwind, you will both be dismissed" commanded the man to the two sentries. Collecting himself, he continued his march to the exit.
The girl glanced wearily at the grey backs of the group which followed to leave, all representative of a heartless and cruel world where her father was king.
She did not weep, unable to find her voice and any more tears. But while her guards struggle to lift her up, her sight began to fade into a sea of blood.
The sea of blood which was crowding her vision became clearer, and the girl found herself in front of a familiar and more recent scene in her life. Before her very eyes lay the lifeless figure of her father, clutched by the hands of her brother. All around her was chaos as people, some even looking like foreigners, struggled to come to safety, discover who murdered the king, or simply come to terms what was happening.
The girl blinked and raised her hands; they were filled with blood, and so was her dress. She stood alone in the chaos and in the death of her father, and she opened her mouth to scream. Nothing still came. She tried, exerting full force to release a sound someone, anyone could hear. But it was all for naught.
"No!" finally came her voice.
Sophia Bernadette Durnador woke up, cold sweat hugging her entire body beneath her nightgown. She was breathing heavily, looking around despite the darkness of her chambers for any sign of the scene which previously invaded her sleeping subconscious.
She relaxed a bit as she deciphered she was not reliving that day in Treiezen 1565 again, but her stir had caused the guards outside her door to come in. They were accompanied by Euram Redever, Prince-Consort of Adwest and father to Sophia's children. He had a concerned look on his face as he approached. He made to address her, but the Queen came to words before he did.
"It is nothing. My father once again attempts to haunt me for being a failure for following in his footsteps. He is dead but remains trouble even in the afterlife of the damned." Sophia said as she got up her bed and went to fetch a drink.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" offered the Prince-Consort to her.
The two never sleep in one room, let alone in one bed, because of the Queen's own desires. They were not in a troubled spot in their relationship, but it sufficed to say that the romance between the two did not burn strongly as the first few years of their courtship and marriage. Sophia saw herself as a Queen and even moreso a Durnador whose right to rule absolutely rested not in his relationship with any man but by virtue of her bloodline and her enlightenment. For her, to marry and procreate was a utilitarian act necessary to preserve the royal line.
Sophia took a second, although as usual she rejected this offer. Yet she walked over to him, the father of her children, and tenderly grazed his cheek with her soft hand. She then looked to his arms; he was carrying their two year-old son, asleep. She managed a smile as she took the baby from Euram.
"We will build a better world for you, Edward. We will deliver you to your destiny as a God among men."
|| Democratic Republic of Mayari ||
There is no solution to the peasant problem but to wage armed struggle, conduct agrarian
revolution and build revolutionary base areas
There is no solution to the peasant problem but to wage armed struggle, conduct agrarian
revolution and build revolutionary base areas