« Now we will be going back, forward in time. The sudden death of the emperor is a critical point in world history, an event so significant that many label it as a point of no return. With his unforeseen passing away the last strong and central light of the Kuraurean Empire has faded away. As you heard, many of the most prominent nobles of the various houses will part their ways and announce economical and political independence »
« Wait, didn't they sign the Concordat around May 31 BHU? »
« Yes, the Sacred Concordat will be the new official alliance between what remains of the Kuraurean Empire and the new independent states. It's essentially a pact of mutual aid in case of need, or at least that's what it is supposed to be »
As the explanation comes to an end, the surrounding onece again shapes and contracts. Painting a new and distinct scenery, far from the Marble Palace and the busy streets of Antaria.
« Right, where are we supposed to be now? »
« As you might have guessed, this is no longer Antaria, nor is this 32 BHU. This is the county of Hilde, 25th of April 2 BHU »
« Oh, yes. Now I understand why this looked very familiar »
They are before the front gates of a distinguished and imposing mansion: white and sturdy walls, a nice and colourful garden, extensive and rich woods.
But the first appearance is misleading, if looked at more carefully, widespread signs of decadence can be easily spotted by a keen eye: the walls have cracks, hastily covered by a filling of a different shade of white, they stand out like veins on the darker, older pigment that was laid down decades ago; the garden is unkept, overgrown with flowers and unwanted weeds, only the larger plants are somewhat regularly cut, the pavings and benches are uneven and unpainted; the woods are wild, with fallen trees and rampant nature that is not kept in check; primitive and untamed beasts roam the forests.
« Well, my guess is that we are about to see Juliyva throwing a tantrum »
A loud crashing noise tears through the peaceful morning, a flock of birds stops singing their daily hymn to fly off, over the woods. The subsequent screams interrupt the job of the few workers of the manor.
« Did I disappoint you? »
« Uh, not at all, this is exactly what I wanted to see »
« … You truly have strange tastes … »
From an open window on the second floor, yells and curses rain down in the yard where an old underpaid gardener doesn't even need to look up to know from which room the shouts are coming from.
Inside, a girl is having a heated argument with her tired father. The elegant furniture and curated interiors stand in high contrast to the not-so refined manners of the young lady.
"Why do I even need to study History! This is absurd, why can't I just go shopping with my friends? Who cares if the old fart is not pleased by my commitment as a student?"
"Juliyva, dear, we pay Mr Rumio an hefty sum to guarantee you the best education, he's the best personal teacher in the whole southern coast and even came all the way from Cistnia to lecture you"
"Daaad, I know, you keep telling me this every time!"
Keeps arguing the girl. But despite all the scolings, her father knows that he was just like her when he was her age; not only in temper, but especially in aspect, Juliyva truly resembles her father.
Long brown extremely well kept hair, vivid brownish-green eyes full of life and wit and a slender physique; always has spotless pose and grace, except when she's arguing with her father.
"July please, do your assignments and then you can go have fun"
Tries to reason the man.
"Come on dad, every year is the same story. You're always worried that I won't pass Rumio's summer exams, but at the end of the day I always make top scores, even the old man is surprised! I know how to deal with my stuff! Please can I go now?"
After a moment of intense gazes from both sides, following a deep sigh, the man is forced to concede.
"...Fine, but first pick up the books and stuff you threw off the table, and your allowance is 2 goldies"
"Only 200 sol? That's barely enough to buy a nice dress! Come one dad!"
Tries to argue Julyiva while picking up a book from the ground, looking for approval in the person standing behind his father, slightly leaning on the doorframe and accomplice in crimes.
"Erynth dear, don't be too harsh on July; she is a good girl after all"
Says Marya, with a bright but dim smile. His husband, finding himself outnumbered, is once again defeated.
"2 golds and 5 silvers, take or leave it. Weiss, go with her and make sure she does not get in trouble and especially that she does not spend more than that!"
"Yes, my lord"
Readily replies a lightly but elegantly armored knight, standing in attention outside the room. He doesn't even have the time to finish his sentence that the girl has already left the room and is running down the stairs. With the widest possible smile on her face she yells from the ground floor:
"Yay, thanks dad you are always the best! Don't worry I won't let you down"
Her parents look from the window and follow her with their sight as her carriage leaves the gates and disappears behind the tree line.
"Let's hope so"
Tiredly mutters the jaded count as he leaves the room and heads for his studio where much work is yet to be done.
The day goes uneventfully, Erynth compiles paperwork, Marya handles the servants and Julyiva happily studies in the evening after buying a new fancy hat. After dinner, late at night, the Count of Hilde is about to wrap up the day when an unexpected knock comes from the door.
"A letter for you, my lord"
Says Weiss, slowly walking up to the desk, not to disturb his lord.
"Leave it there. I am almost done"
Hastily replies the man, too distracted to notice the faint smell of sea snails.
"It's from Insolum. It has the star seal."
Having heard those words Erynth freezes immediately, before him is presented a letter with a ten-point star, a majestic golden decagram over purple wax. Now with his focus diverted from the paperwork, the distinctive smell seems to him so strong to almost be nauseating.
"So, we are going to war then"
But in a nearby county, away from golden coins and great mansions, stranger to riches and wealth, a boy is staring at the Night's skies, lying alone in the middle of a fertile wheat field.
Lost in his thoughts he wonders if there's more for him in life than his little village, if he will ever taste the refined food of the east, if he will hear the ballads of Braux, if he will ever see the magic lands of Vertam.
All his life an unquenchable urge has been contaminating all his thoughts, an unknown and unexplainable unsettling feeling of discomfort and insecurity; as if his soul knows that this is not what he's supposed to strive for, not what his destiny is supposed to lead to.
He keeps dreaming of a day when he would fight monsters to save a princess or slaughter villains to avenge a friend. A day when he would not need to wake up early in the morning to gain enough coins just to eat in the evening. A day when he would feel alive for once.
Lost in his thoughts he keeps wondering.
"Drale! Drale where are you?"
A woman's voice disrupts the late night daydreams of the young man.
"Drale! Come home it's late, tomorrow you need to help your father with the harvest. Come get some sleep"
Yells out his mother to the empty field, looking for his son, hidden by the high stems of the crops. Drale waits for his mother to go back inside, he waits for the creaks of the old wooden porch to sit up right, still concealed by the wheats. Only as he hears the door being shut he then finally gets up on his feet.
Slowly the melancholic boy heads towards a small wooden house, on the outskirts of a small rural village, on the periphery of a small insignificant county.
As he walks down the field he touches with the palm of his hands the crops he will be yilding tomorrow. As a light gust of wind gently blows past him he looks back at the sky, the moon illuminating his young yet weary face.
The blue sad looking eyes seem to illuminate on their own as the light from the moon casts an ivory glare on his weak and worn out lips: his hair, the same colour as the wheat that surrounds him, can be seen dancing as the soft breeze running down in the valley waves the shabby tunic revealing a sturdy and muscular body forged after years of hardships.
As he reaches the door of his humble house his thoughts come back to the reality of earthly things.
He wonders why would Lord Siga, count of Freim, order the immediate gathering of all the wheat, even if they barely planted the first seeds in march. He wonders what happened to force the use of magic fertilizers. Surely they would allow for an instant harvest but the product's quality would greatly suffer; to the point that corn products from those harvests would be hardly edible.
Another mystery he can't seem to understand is why much of the village's livestocks are being moved more inland, closer to the count's castle. Not only in his village, but also in many others, rumors say that in the settlements closer to the border with the Hilde county all farm animals and provisions are being moved away. Yet he still doesn't understand why.
Before shutting the door Drale takes one last good look at the vastness of the night's sky and wonders if he will ever be able to see a different sky, if he will ever see different stars.
Maybe, one day.
Maybe; one night.