Age of Man
Year 10,012
When the tragedy happened, the tenuous peace between the three nations came to a grinding halt. Id, the smallest kingdom, Remus a once great empire, and Jakaria poised to take control.
For once a tenuous peace was kept. As long as everyone pretended to look the other way. It was imminent that if they kept fighting then utter annihilation was assured.
What a futile thought, Prince Ingfred thought to himself as he gazed out at the full moon. Members of the harem had been ravenous. Yet, how could he satisfy them? With all of this on his mind? Fear that welled up in his chest and tears in his eyes.
Clement had been avoiding him, which he accepted. Welcomed actually. How could he taint Clement, with this guilt he carried around inside?
When he learned of the news all those years ago, the room drained of color. Closed in on him. Immediately he ordered everyone away. Hyperventilating in his chambers alone.
Azina's death not only affected him, but he knew what was coming. Someone killed the heir to the entirety of the Jakarian empire. The quickly rising subcontinent that had expanded their economy through being the predominant magic users in the region.
Remus had long lost their art, and Id never quite mastered it.
Azina's death went beyond his own feelings. The tenuous stability was being destroyed before his very eyes.
The room was dark, with flowers gently swaying from the ceilings. The blue moonlight highlighting the side of his face as he gazed from the tower.
Without warning the heavy doors to his chamber creaked open. In anger, he turned to the shadowed figure backlit from the brass sconces behind them. Anger fading as he made out the shape of Clement. Gently he embraced him, whispering apologies for his behavior.
With understanding Clement nodded, before leaning in to whisper in the Prince's ear. When Clement was done, Ingfred's eye widened. With a quickness they narrowed as he turned south, in the direction of Remus.
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Year 10,008
Age of man
Azina had been preparing for weeks, no months really. Nakima, her best friend since childhood, was helping her. On this day in which she had been preparing for all of her life.
Nakima took a brush made of boars' hair causing Azina to jump at the feeling of the stiff bristles.
"Daydreaming again?" Nakima teased.
Azina did not answer. Instead opting to look at herself in the mirror. Nakima's words sounded like they were from under the water. Soft hands rested on her shoulders, causing her to snap out of her daze.
"I'm sorry, it's just that-"
"You can't get that stupid boy out of your mind?"
Azina was unsure if such a conversation would hurt her friend. She had made her feelings known, that no matter what she would never belong to one. Except, here she was.
As she had grown older she learned that one had responsibilities. On her twenty seventh moon, she must be wed. Too long she had waited, and while they were free to choose. Freedom has its limits. A groom must be chosen, and chosen by her fast.
Jakaria needed an heir. Man or woman it did not matter, but it needed to be someone.
"My offer still stands," Azina whispered.
Nakima laughed aloud and her chest distractingly moved up and down. "I've told you," she smiled, "I would hate royal life. Besides I have feelings for another and I know that you do too."
Azina hid her head in her hands, "You know that I have no other option."
Nakina rolled her eyes as her deft fingers braided the fluffy tufts of hair. "That's what you tell yourself. Now tilt your head this way."
She rolled her eyes before listening to her command. Knowing full well that otherwise her hair would twist into an uncomfortable position. "I have love for them too. That's the problem."
Nakima but her hands on her ample hips. "Then tell him that. I'm sure he won't mind."
Azina sighed, before a smile found its way on her lips. "Fine." She stood up from the gilded chair. An immaculate gown swishing around her ankles. Her feet adorned with sandals encrusted in numerous gems.
Around her torso was a corset fastened with gold bands. At the top of her breasts rested her hair. Long dark braids with a red sheen in harsh sunlight. Applied to her chest were diamonds embossed in gold. Hair covered loosely with a purple mesh. The tips were painted with gold flakes that shimmered in the gentle breeze.
As she made a step, the gown sparkled. Nakima sharply inhaled at the sight. Wetness forming a slippery feeling between her thighs. Slowly she waved at Azina, before rushing off to perform the rest of her wedding duties.
Azina wandered the halls, her feet making a clicking sound that reverberated throughout the expansive villa. With ceilings that arched hundreds of feet into the air, containing murals depicting the old legends. Floating adobe pots were filled with flowering vines that had grown for centuries.
Azina walked quickly past the golden columns. Jakaria controlled most of the gold on the continent, since they produced most of it. Gold which made the God-Emperor's eyes green with envy. Before Remus could gain the ability to invade, the so-called Iddish barbarians had weakened them too much to fare against them. Especially with Jakaria's advantage, Dahlia's Blessing.
Azina huffed as she hurried past the sprawling vines. With impatience, she turned towards one of the columns which had been covered with them for what must be centuries. In quick, steady motions she made formations with her fingers.
Uttering a prayer beneath her breath. "Please, guide the way." She asked gently, pleading with the life force within the plant. The consciousness that lived within all living things. Irugbin.
