Hello again to anyone who has read the pithy beginnings of this work. I come to you today to bring chapter 1, and also a confession.
I cannot write.
No, you misunderstand. You see I have a natural affinity for the written and spoken work, I can comprehend and align them in such ways as most can only through some practice, but, dear friend I cannot write. I do not know how to form scenes, I can envision it in my mind and describe it on keyboard or paper, but I cannot direct and form story in the movie, and the one I am trying to right now is this story itself. I know exactly in my head how the characters in any relationship I can think up WOULD fall in love, but I don't know how to make it come across in script. Dialogue I find very hard to write without it becoming drag-on, this is the reason for the bottom half of this chapter, as it it is much easier for me to write dialogue in the form of memory than actual event.
I have found something I do not know, and the thought is saddening because literature being one of my great loves (the other being romance, hard to tell right?) is the stimulant of my ignorance.
In this aspect I feel very much as Ashe does currently, I am trying with all my power to convey this story as best as I can, but it is hard, very hard.
I you feel like bearing with me through this, it will be a learning experience, for us both (I promise you that) as you will be learning to bear with me as I simultaneously learn how to create fiction.
Any encouragement and criticism offered would be most appreciated.
Always Yours, Hessarial
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By writing this work of fiction I hereby lay absolutely no claim to the content, media, or IP it is based on, neither have I, nor will receive any monetary profit from it in any way.
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Chapter 1.
A soft light painted the palace walls with its glow where it could find purchase to enter through the ornate windows that adorned it. Old they were, from even the time of the Dynast King as it was he that had first lay stone to earth and built the palace's first structure.
The central block was made of white granite, and consisted of the front courtyard leading to the steps of the entryway, and all of the structure of the middle wing. This was comprised of the entrance hall and throne room, and to its west and east the library and dining hall.
The library had always been of particular interest to the Lady Ashelia, for her love of poetry and the written word oft saw her there, pouring over a large tome till the late hours of evening. It was three score and six feet on its shortest wall, and many score did lay its space through winding corridors of shelves to the back most part, where the oldest tomb's were kept.
Here were books of history, of written accounts detailing events of importance that had taken place in his or her Majesty's rule. Ashelia's father would sometimes be seated here, "becoming learned of my father's" as he would say.
At the farthest westerly wall there lay a staircase on either side of it. Not things of ornate beauty, rather of convenience, as the balcony that they led to was one of show, overlooking the library yet with no way to actually use it as pass from the abundance of books and parchment to the western corridors. So Raminas had had these small carved steps added as a transport to them, and as an easier way from the royal family's bedchambers to the library. They were carved of dark rosewood taken from the jungles of Golmore, and never a creak was heard for the strength of the wood ran deep, and only the finest of oak was harder.
The western halls were lined with paintings, art of the finest craftsmanship from the greatest artisans of the time of each. Some depicted the palace or the city of Rabinastre. Others its broad and beautiful country; the east or west sands, or the Giza plains in times past.
Farther into the west wing as the three and more halls met together and became a singular, large channel of pass, the wall to the left was lined with portraits. Portraits depicting each of the kings hence in all their glory in their time of rule.
Twelve portraits there were, the first depicting the ever benevolent Dynast King, the founder of Dalmasca and all she held, planter of the seed of Rozarria and Nabradia. Leading onward from him, the next in line kings and queens, each with a small plaque of his or her choice material with on it carved their greatest accomplishments.
Past this hall another large room lay. A common room of sorts, with a large fireplace and armchairs all around. On its north face it had steps leading to a balcony that overlooked the back grounds and courtyard.
Further west still lay the royal family's bed chambers, a large ornate master bedroom of his or her majesty's and their wed, and three smaller for the princes or princesses of the throne.
It was here, in one of these rooms that the Lady Ashe did find herself laying, having just awoke abruptly from another dream. Of late she had been finding the ever loving arms of sleep harder and harder to seek, for in her current state of mind rest did not come easy.
It was a terrifying dream in which she relived the moment she saw Basch carrying her husband in his arms, dead. This moment she had thought on countless times, if only as the last parting memory Rasler her left to her.
It was not even a year later that Ashelia's life did beget sorrow twofold, the betrayal of her father by his most valiant knight, and her friend Captain Basch Fon Rosenburg.
After her father's demise, the throne fell to her, and as such she inherited the royal bed. But she refused to move to it for if she did she would have to come to accept in her heart the fact that her beloved father was no more.
Ashe lay, watching through the window as the first sprinklings of rain started to come. It was unusual for it to be raining on such a clear morn that shone the sun's rays sharply. It would seem that the wet season was already overcoming the plane's of Giza.
'It is beautiful' she thought, as she watched how the rain created a glistening sheen to the view of the lit sky.
But her demeanor quickly turned foul as she was reminded once more of the reason for her waking.
Looking to the window's sill, she watched the dial for a moment. 'Ah six hours it is past the new day... too early.' She thought, laying once more on the comfort of her warm bed, thinking.
'How much longer will I have to relive this? It seems it is not enough that he is indeed gone, no, the spirits torture me even in sleep.'
'Oh I do hope Lord Vayne does not require my presence this day. His constant prodding tires me.' But she knew not to be too hopeful, for undoubtedly their debate regarding her position as the queen would once again rage till the early afternoon hours.
Sighing audibly, she took stand and readied herself for what the day would bring.
After a minute of stretching and yawning, the gears in the young Lady's head slowly began to turn, and cog lay on cog, telling her that it would be most pertinent to find suitable garb for the day.
Stretching the sleep from her muscles, Ashe walked to her closet's double doors, made of the same carved rosewood and more subtly, cherry inlay. She paced through the small room taking stock of its state, disarray as it was.
Finally choosing on a light blue summer's dress, she took it in hand and went to her bath.
It was a large room of pristine white tile flooring and neck high on the walls, a changing screen to the far side as one entered. A large basin lay at its center, made of the same polished white granite as the rest of the first build of the palace, though with a coat of clear glass as to make bathing a more comfortable affair.
Ashe lay her clothes over the screen and went to the bath, turning on the taps and letting the basin fill. A hot bath always relaxed her and put her at ease, if only for a time. As the basin filled, she stripped from her bedclothes and hesitantly put a hand into the water.
Drawing it back immediately she cursed.
"ah it is to cold" She said with a frown, turning the hot water 's flow larger.
After a minute more she slowly sank in, resting her head on the rim of the bath.
'No, this shall not be the day I accept Vayne's offer to be at the throne. Hah! he believes I am naive as to not see his plot.' she mused, deep in thought.
'He will summon me once more today, I'm sure of it. No he could not simply rule as Consul, he would use me as a guise of his doings to my people. I shall not fall to his bait'
Even if he did want her country to see her as its head, she knew that it would be he giving the direction.
And she would not stand for it.
letting herself relax, Ashe slowly went about her routine. The granite was thick and a layer of space between the glass and it prevented the basin from stealing the water's heat quickly.
It was such a pristine morn, in a dreamlike way almost. It was as if Ashe did not have a care in the world, and she may go about as her usual doing bid her without thinking of the treachery that now had befallen Dalmasca.
She was interrupted with the sound of a rather timid knock on her bathing room's door.
She sighed once more 'So it begins'
"Yes?" she called, though she knew who was on the other side already.
"M'lady, his Excellency Lord Vayne has put request of your presence immediately." replied her hand maiden, Irene from the other side.
"Then I give you leave to tell him that as a hume I require at least seventeen minutes of reprieve when I wake before dealing with his Excellency." Ashe replied with a sour tone
"I'm sorry m'lady but it would not befit me to say such. 'Tis not my place"
"Yes I know Irene... in such case I will be ready in half an hour for his summon"
"I will send word m'lady"
"Thank you" Ashe responded as she slowly removed herself from the hot basin, drying and moving to the screen to fetch her wear.
After dressing and removing her hair from its tangled state, Ashe found herself staring at her reflection in her vanity's mirror. Was she really that pale? She looked rather thin as well. 'when did I allow the empire to put me in such a state' She mused. It was not untill she was startled out of her respite by another knock on her door that she realized what she had been doing and quickly put a smile on her face to greet Irene.
"Come in" she called.
A woman of twenty and two years entered her chambers and closed the door behind herself. She had a very pale complexion, much like Ashelia, but with long, dark midnight hair to match it instead of the silvery locks that graced the queen.
Irene had been her servant since she could remember. Loyal to her queen she was, having been even more at times, a shoulder to cry on and a friend to trust.
Coming into the room she paused, and looked at her sworn.
Ashelia's face looked paler than usual, and she bore dark circles under her eyes as she looked once more at her reflection.
Frowning and moving to her side, the queens maid took stock of her, and immediately began fussing over her dress. She gently took her hand and rolled her sleeve back once on each wrist as was meant for the dress she wore. Pressing out the nonexistent wrinkles on Ashe's immaculate attire she slowed, and looked into the mirror at her.
"Ashe you do not look well."
This her lady did not deny, she only looked away, not able to meet her gaze.
" You're tired, I know it. And you have not been eating as you should. Even last summer this dress fit perfectly and now it seems a stitch to large."
Ashe knew Irene was concerned for her, how could she not be? She was concerned for herself, she did not know how much more she could take. She hated that her maid was worried for her so, and forced herself to smile.
"I have not been sleeping as I should, 'tis true. but Do not fear for my wellbeing Ren, I am fine as ever."
It was a fake smile, not one she had to put on for herself, but for her friend. One thing she could not bear was to see someone else sad on her behalf.
Still, her maid did not seem convinced.
'It is my burden to bear, no one else's.
Turning and abruptly hugging her friend she said "I am okay, please don't worry over much of me. Go about your duty"
"But you are my duty Ashe... and I hate to see you in such a state." She said with a frown.
" His Excellency's endless tries at subversion and his audience to match have made me tired, but I will persist."
Looking to her friend's eyes she spoke "I will be alright"
Granite, a composite mineral comprised of quartz, obsidian and often lime. One of the hardest of building stones, it would take quite force to mark or etch it in any way. A beautiful pattern had been painstakingly carved into this white speckled stone, one showing vines and flowers adorning it as it wound its way lazily down the sill of a window set on the wall behind the throne.
'The Dalmascan throne' Lord Vayne Solidor mused to himself as he stood, ever composed looking out over the courtyard.
'Yes the seat of Dalmasca now does belong to the Empire, my empire' A smile gracing his face.
Vayne was a contemplative man. A strategy without thought was not sound, and to his mind must be turned over, every possible outcome making itself known before any part be laid in play.
In his right arm he clutched a book he had taken that morn from the library. The Lay of Ferelven it was called, and recounted detail of one of the first ancestor's of Arcadia's journey from the far north to where the capitol now laid, and his account of the Dynast King, Raithwall.
It had been a favorite of Vayne's, for it told a tale of a strong man, an ambitious spirit trying to create his own country for his people. He was surprised that the Dalmascan library actually possessed a print of this work, but he was glad of it.
As the days spent in Dalmasca wore on, Vayne's patience with the state of Her Majesty Ashelia grew thin. In two days time he was to attend a convergence of the Royal Senate, and before his plan were to be put into action he must have the young Lady's attention and submission.
Though the influence and scope of Arcadia was great, beyond any other kingdom of Ivalice, still Rozarria lay even greater in martial power. Now they gathered their forces in guise of military exercise, a pretense in which they might be ever ready for attack or to counter any power the Arcadian Empire would unleash.
As a small yet sovereign kingdom when under the rule of Raminas, Dalmasca's forces, their knights and soldiers remained ever loyal to his daughter, taking no head to the Empirical orders dictated by Arcadia. Such loyalty shown how bravely the sons of Dalmasca's hearts did beat, for they were ever under threat of death from the governing militia sent by the Empire to Dalmasca.
But no, Vayne was no fool.
To eliminate such a useful tangent of force that could so easily be in line with the empire, furthering his cause in the conquest of Ivalice would be maligned to his purpose indeed.
He saw each path, and every possible outcome that fate may see fit to deal him, pending what action he may take. Each of the finite details had been laid out in his mind, turned over and only the singular path that shone brightly his own goal at its end did he seek to follow. And follow he would, any means justifying his ends.
With Rozarria in possession of the Dusk Shard and Dalmasca holding the Dawn Shard, there was simply no way in which to fight such power as they brought without possessing one of the Empire's own. He had first thought of the Nebradian Midlight Shard, but it had been destroyed in battle when they had lay conquest to the small country. This is why it was of grave importance that Ashelia did once again act as queen of her country, giving the Dalmascan forces the plans of his plot; to fight Rozarria
Vayne's thought turned to Draklor, and the research that Doctor Adulfus Cid was conducting there, experimenting with interaction between humes and the Old Gods through the great stone found deep in Giruvagen.
It was vital that the Empire acquired the power of one of the Dynast King's legacy's in order to buy him enough time to complete it.
He must break her. Make her, through threat or otherwise, take seat in her thrown and act as his key to power.
The sound of footsteps echoing ever elegently on the palace walls broke Vayne from his line of thought as he realized that the Lady Ashe was approaching.
From the diaries of Lady Ashelia B'Nargam Dalmasca
I held my head High as I walked the west hall of the palace, through the library's sunray lit corridors. As his Excellency Lord Vayne Solidor had summoned me this morn yet again, my mood turned ever more foul. As I neared the stone pillars marking the entrance to the throne room, I caught sight of Vayne himself standing at the great window behind the throne.
My thoughts turned to hate as I saw him abide my presence without so much as an acknowledgement there, ever prim, seemingly unastute, but aware as ever as he was composed trying to lay his iron fist on my country.
No, this day I would again find the will to see it through, even if every breath was to much to bear and i wished naught but to lay ,never wakeing again. If I could withstand and become stronger than the emotions that rage within me this day, this would not be the one that I succumb to Vayne'streachery.
Coming to stand, arms crossed, next to my father's throne, I was about to speak to his turned back but to my surprise he instead spoke first.
"I do hope this morn finds your Majesty well."
Hah! he addresses me as your majesty as he tries to slip a knife into my back.
Let him have it his way, if passive aggression is to his fancy, let us speak such.
"Tis a good morn that sees the sun shine and sky give her life anew to the land."
I held my expression. As being a princess often required me to act and live as expected I have become a master at hiding my intent and inner turmoil of late.
"Ah indeed it is, but my Lady your tone is as off-putting as a missed note or chord gone awry."
How does the bastard speak as if he knows my thought? Is there nothing that escapes his over-wondering senses?
I grit my teeth as he spoke, it felt as if I was at the bottom of a slope with no hope of climbing it. Such task was there at hand that I felt I could not bear it all, even if a path of wisdom did present itself. The combined force of my earlier dream and once again having to endure this was taking its toll on my demeanor and I was having none of it.
Venom would be all he got from me!
"My mood is turned sour by the Arcadian dogs that have lain claim to my palace." I responded, looking pointedly at Vayne. "Or has your Excellency's day dreaming befuddled even your sight?"
Looking down at the text in his hands Vayne reposed; "The dream that I see of the future is the exact reason why my soldiers are now here, in your majesty's court. You see, quite simply, you have lost the war."
"Though only through your liking of treachery and assassination of peacemaking kings it would seem. Did you tell the same to Nebradia before you shed her blood? Or was your mouth so twisted with deceit that it remained closed as you slaughtered them?"
"Arcadia did not slaughter them as your Majesty would seem to believe, that was a battle of necessity, for Nebradia stood between the Empire and her goal. If there was such a path through that time as to make peace, mine would have been the first request for it." Replied Vayne
"And this is what you call peace? The hand of your empire has brought naught but tears to my people, my knights that fought for them and their mothers and wives that cried for them." His casual dismissal of Rassler's homeland angered me more greatly than I thought it would, it hurt me inside.I remembered again my love, and how he was taken from me. It wasn't necessity that drove the battle but bitter acception of the fact that there was no other way hence to defend his homeland that drove him that day I knew, no I was certain. My heart longed again to be near him in that instant, to see his face if only once more.
How could Vayne think of people's lives in such a way? As little more than cattle to be slaughtered for his war machine.
"'tis not my hand that does such, but that of fate, Ashelia. In the end the stronger opponent will always be the victor, for it brings order."
"What order does this slaughter you cause bring Vayne? You have done nothing to bring order, only use my people as a tool to do your bidding." I spoke,directing my smouldering gaze at.
At this Vayne turned to face me, seemingly haven finally been broke from his reverie.
"It is my goal that none should suffer battle or war, but live peaceably under a single flag."
"An Arcadian flag? I cannot imagine that many would willfully give up their sovereignty simply to bring less cause for war, is my country not proof of this? You have killed my father, our king, and treat my people as slaves to your cause against Rozarria. I harbor no want for a single flag to rule the lands of Ivalice if it is to be yours."