Sorry for the delay and the removal of Chapter 8, turns out the chapter had wayyyyyyy more errors on it then I was happy with, so for the moment it's down until I can get back to it. Life in the military is pretty crazy so I haven't had much time to work of this lately. The good new is that I have figured out the plotline for the first Arcs of the story, the bad is that it's proving a pain for me to get through writing them since I keep trying to rewrite everything every five minutes. Something i told myself not to do of course... But anywhos I'm hoping I'm back on track, hope you all like what I bring to the table.

"Tales and Memories"

Charis, The United Kingdom of Mistral (Formerly Laconia)

1481 CR

It was a cool rainy night in town, the colds blocking out the usually persistent starlight. The town was situated on a mountain-side, able to look upon the great lake and valleys around it's borders. On a normal day this city would be filled with hustle and bustle of life, but today it was empty, the rain seemly oppressing the populace to their homes. Pillars of smoke reached out in the sky, long arms stretching forth from chimney fires, the thought of them trying to catch rain had caused Pyrrha Nikos to giggle. Her young bright green eyes shifting back and forth as she stared out of the second story window of the temple. It was a large building, a home for the Royal family and guesthouse for famous and important members of politics. Not that many politicians came to the city after the council took control, yet Pyrrha knew little of such matters. She was only five years old, barely of her families status yet alone the state of the Kingdom. As it was she had only known of life inside of the Temple, living their with her Parents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and her Grandmother, who often watched over her during such lazy times like tonight. The red-headed child turned to her "YiaYia" who sat by the fire and read, regarding the elders features with admiring eyes. Her had her family's namesake crimson hair, streaked with grey and white strands all twisted into a ponytail. YiaYia's eyes were jade green, freckled with black and gold, a trait that Pyrrha wished she had due to their beauty. Most notable of all was her Grandmother's figure, strong and muscled, the elder woman did not look nearly a century old; never groaned about pain or her age and still passionate enough to chase after the children of the house. She was everything Pyrrha wanted to be, the young girl gladly clung to the woman, sacrificing naps, games and shacks to seek the wise counsel of her idol.

Not that YiaYia minded such things, the women enjoyed watching her grandchild and would treasure the way the child seemed to consume the words that came out of her mouth. Pyrrha was mature for her age, and often could grasp the discussions of her elders more clearly then they knew; YiaYia respected that by being honest with the child at all times. It was Pyrrha's choice to come into this room, it was the library of the Temple and housed thousands of books from the kingdom, each one a part of history. It was here that Pyrrha would learn of the history of Remnant, about the Gods of the Laconians and the origins of Mankind. Each a lesson from her Grandmother, each during such secluded events as when they sat by the fire.

"YiaYia?" The child asked, crawling to towards the fireplace as her elder regarded her. "Why does it never snow here?" It was a question that made her Grandmother smile, putting her book down on a nearby coffee table to put up her grandchild as she spoke. Her voice came out loud and soothing despite her age, the voice of a leader still strong as she spoke.

"The winters in Laconia and Attic have never brought snow my child, the cold winds from the north only wish to chill the air and cause the storms to strike the coast." She stopped to look at Pyrrha's frown with a chuckle, poking her nose as she continued. "The rain is good for us though, common during these colder months and most of the inhabitants of this region have come to rely on the water for aiding them in crop management. Without it there would be famines and hunger during the summers in the valley."

Laconia in the south and Attic in the north, are the two regions of the eastern continent; governed by the Kingdom of Mistral's council after the Lacedaian Royal family stepped down from power. Pyrrha only knew a little of her families history at this point, she knew that they had retired to the west, settling in the temple of mountainous town of Charis. She understood that the Great War was an era of change for the region, creating new trade opportunities, new political relationships and the shift of the population as cities were rapidly created around the capital. Yet she still struggled to grasp her place in this new era, the whys and hows of the denizens. "Why don't they more to the North and live i Mistral? Why don't we?" Her eyes, rippling inquisitively to the older woman as she laughed.

After our Family united the two kingdoms we knew that there had to be a change, we founded the council for our people. The Mistralians, as they have come to call themselves, wanted to forget about our extensive bloody pasts. They want to create a new world free of the curses of the old, they wanted freedom to have a choice. We can not give this to them and thus we must stay among our own. They may celebrate our holidays and share our events but they do not believe in our old ways, to them we are foolish. To live in their world we wouldn't be able able to talk about the Gods, they only glorified the finer points of the conflicts, honoring the heroes and the battles but forgetting our heritage and the reasons why these battles were fought. We left because to stay would lead to outrage and riots." She stopped for a moment and picked the kid off of her lap, throwing Pyrrha onto her shoulder as she stood to retrieve a large book. The sound of giggling hide the serious effort the girl put into the words spoken to her.

"My child, do you remember what I thought you about our world?" She pulled Pyrrha into a hug, the younger girls back to her breast as she settled the book onto their laps. Pyrrha chirped up at the question, her response answering it as a matter of fact.

"Our world is older then our ancestors, our gods who protected and guided us for eons. It is living and smart and we are only the newest life to live upon her. Our family is descendant from the gods, the original clans." Pyrrha finished, wiggling herself loose to stare at her grandmother, wondering if she was correct.

"Very good," The elder kissed her forehead before opening the book. "You know a little of our history so far, and here I was thinking that you were still to young for this book."

"YiaYia I am almost six, I am old enough to know everything you can tell me!" Pyrrha chirped boldly, her little fingers gripping her grandmothers pants as she shook her hands to make the point.

"Ah, but all you know are just short stories my child, hardly everything I know. Of course legends and stories can only tell a small part of such a lengthy and very important story. Though forgotten in history it is one that still continues to shape and define the struggles of our world. In fact it was my grandmother who had told me these stories, it was her mother who wrote this book." With this she flipped open the book, the golden pages reflected the orange and fires of the fire as they danced around the ink. The words Cosmogony etched above the opening paragraph. Pyrrha would sit there and listen to her Grandmother speak, her head filling with stories and names and histories vast and ancient. Though she will one day forget such moments of her youth, the princess would still remember the Gods of her people even as she became an adult. Honoring her ancestors in secret.

As it would come to turn out, as a young child she did not understand the warnings that laid underneath these tales.