Many years of peace had passed.
The countries of Forte and Baroque had lived on in perfect harmony, behaving more like well-acquainted neighbors than quasi-rivalrous countries. Trade was doing well, as was the tourism industry. What could possibly go wrong in such a prosperous time?
The government, of course.
The ruler of Forte was now Count Waltz's heir, who was also named Waltz. It had taken most of the city by surprise- not many people had known that the late Count had a son, or even that he'd taken a countess. If he had, that is. There were a few rumors that the current Waltz was just one of his fathers many illegitimate children.
Anyhow, Count Waltz II was bored with this job. Before he'd found out that he was to be the new leader of Forte, he'd fought in the armed forces in frontline infantry. The only reason he' taken this on was because he'd be rich, and even then he wasn't as rich as he thought he'd be. He just lived in a palace. He needed some excitement, or else he just might- quite literally- die of boredom. He sat in his royal quarters, thinking of what he could do to spice things up around here. Suddenly an idea formed in his head, and with a soft gasp he made his way to his desk, and began to write a letter.
Dear Duke Scherzo of Baroque,
I am writing you this letter in the hopes that you will be willing to start a business endeavor with me regarding our militaries. If you are interested, return this letter along with a second, stating your terms of agreement. If you are not, simply return the letter alone.
Regards,
Count Waltz II of Forte
Indeed, the incident with Waltz II's predecessor had also dealt with the military, but he assumed that Forte's everyday citizens weren't smart enough to realize this would be of the same caliber. Surely, back when he was a regular citizen, he wouldn't have cared enough to make the connection.
At sundown the next day, a dove flew into Forte's throne room, bearing the Duke's reply. He was in, and the two men would have a secret meeting the next day at an undisclosed location.
Sitting upon his throne, Waltz II grinned evilly. Things were going off without a hitch.
[A/N]: Ciao! Welcome to Eternal Generations!
For those of you that aren't familiar with my fan fictions (this is the first story I'm posting on fan fiction dot net, aside from Final Fantasy 13 Chicago) I write abnormally long author's notes, usually revealing my thought process and a bit of trivia. I certainly don't mind if you don't read them at all though. It wouldn't take away from the story in any way. I might also cross-reference stories. Don't mind that.
I hope this prologue isn't too vague. I don't have a lot of experience with evil plots. However, I am confident that one will be able to form how the plan will unfold in their head before it's actually stated in the story (much like the original Eternal Sonata).
Picture Waltz II to look almost like his father, except a lot more flamboyant. Also did you know that, in addition to being a style of composition, the word "scherzo" is the Italian word for "joke"?
I surely hope you'll stay along for the ride: this is going to be a long story, and we haven't even gotten started yet!
Disclaimer: In 2007, I was more worried about applying to high schools than even owning a copy of Eternal Sonata. Don't own it. Not a bit.