Of the Princes and Aestas
maximillian
Civilised Sheep
- Location
- Ranch
The Bishop stroked his beard as he pondered your questions, the cackling of the fireplace flames and the muted melody of chanting monks the only sound to be heard.
You tentatively awaited a response, fearing that your questions were ill-chosen or badly spoken until your self Inquisition was interrupted by the bishop's voice.
"God's creations have ever been ones to make a curse of their blessings. Those gifted with skill, aptitude or status that puts them far above their peers and lessers, they often fall to their own hubris."
That is wisdom you are familiar with, for the wise and holy men of the church often preach the dangers of pride, and you nod along as the Bishop continues. His hands moved to the cross hanging from his neck caressing its gem-encrusted surface as he continued his speech:
"Since ancient times men had made Gods of themselves and their creations, arrogantly defying the Lord and placing the created above the creator, the imperfect above the perfect."
These last words he spoke with a flaming passion and vigour, a tone that you grew familiar with when His Excellency took the preacher's stand. And as is his way, you are gripped by the fire in his voice.
"Some were but mortals and the work of their hands, some were immortal but all the lesser for it, others had power and knew the mysteries that bent the world to their will."
His arms moved as he spoke pointing towards places far and unseen, the candle flickering candlelight reflecting off his eyes and ornaments, letting your minds imagine the ancient and mythical places of the earth, and of the olden entities that ruled it.
"From the Prince-Priests of Akhduiad, they of pillars. The Fire Lords of Kisra who built the tower, the Immortals of Palykos who shaped mountains, the God-Kings of Phakos and the throne everlasting, to the Sidhe courts of Terresoria who made nature their servant. All were blinded by their own gifts, such was their arrogance that the devil need not tempt them, for they damned themselves willingly."
"The Princes of Aternum were the latest and most successful of these blasphemies. Whence they came from and how I do not know, but their origin, like much in this earth, is Isarceal."
"The histories say that the first of their brood, the Eternal Emperor, left that land for Etruvia, where he became Lord of a small settlement by the name of Aternum, a town that a millennium later, would be the center of the greatest empire to have ever existed. His spawn were the Princes of the blood, alongside them where his favoured, those he elevated to the same prominence. Each claimed divinity and would bestow blessings to their chosen. Theirs was mastery of many great and terrible things.
"The court of Iovita knew not the touch of death, the favoured of Aristophanes where artisans without peer, Mars gave his ilk Lordship of battle, Saccularius was the ultimate thief, Foecundus the father of monsters, to Marinae was given sight of the heavens and the fate of nations, Janus wielded the laws of man and nature like one would a quill."
The awe such descriptions would inspire was severely cut but the potent contempt and disdain inflicted with each word the Bishop spoke, even so, you burned with curiosity and dread alike, for while this knowledge is most fascinating, its implications are horrid.
The Bishop, if he noticed your change of expression, paid it no heed, and continued his answer, albeit in a more subdued tone.
"And these are but some of that accursed line, for they were numerous, and little was left that sheds light on them.
Their end you know already, the Lord smote down the master of Aternum, and the Princes fell to their own machinations and those of their enemies. Those that still live are but a pale shadow of the lineages of old."
Your mind goes to that awful scene in the villa, and the one who dwelt within it, and you suppress a shiver. Pale shadows indeed.
Your liege took a sip from his cup, the cider having long cooled down, before continuing, his tone bearing more worry than hatred this time around.
"As for Aestas, she is the Gilded queen, the Lady of Rot and mistress of Voconia. Her's is the blood of Foecundus and Ndar, and Pulchir is her mate. Her fame was made when she conquered Voconia in the war of emperors and then moved to capture the heartland of Aternum. She failed, her armies crushed and husband dead, she retreated to her residence in the thickets of Valensole, where she remained ever since."
"Her court, however, remained active despite the indisposed nature of its mistress, and its scions have had dealings and encounters with men high and low, their purpose unknown but worrisome nevertheless. For little good can come of the cursed broods of Aternum."
This confuses you, for why would one choose to serve such a creature, more so one that hadn't left its lair?
Sir Marce did not seem evil in the least, is it his loyalty to Voconia and its master? Or is there more to this tale than you understand?
Whatever it is, you do not get the chance to ask his Excellency for elaboration, for he dismisses you shortly after, telling you to rest and prepare for the journey to come, and pray for the Lord and the saints to keep you.
You tentatively awaited a response, fearing that your questions were ill-chosen or badly spoken until your self Inquisition was interrupted by the bishop's voice.
"God's creations have ever been ones to make a curse of their blessings. Those gifted with skill, aptitude or status that puts them far above their peers and lessers, they often fall to their own hubris."
That is wisdom you are familiar with, for the wise and holy men of the church often preach the dangers of pride, and you nod along as the Bishop continues. His hands moved to the cross hanging from his neck caressing its gem-encrusted surface as he continued his speech:
"Since ancient times men had made Gods of themselves and their creations, arrogantly defying the Lord and placing the created above the creator, the imperfect above the perfect."
These last words he spoke with a flaming passion and vigour, a tone that you grew familiar with when His Excellency took the preacher's stand. And as is his way, you are gripped by the fire in his voice.
"Some were but mortals and the work of their hands, some were immortal but all the lesser for it, others had power and knew the mysteries that bent the world to their will."
His arms moved as he spoke pointing towards places far and unseen, the candle flickering candlelight reflecting off his eyes and ornaments, letting your minds imagine the ancient and mythical places of the earth, and of the olden entities that ruled it.
"From the Prince-Priests of Akhduiad, they of pillars. The Fire Lords of Kisra who built the tower, the Immortals of Palykos who shaped mountains, the God-Kings of Phakos and the throne everlasting, to the Sidhe courts of Terresoria who made nature their servant. All were blinded by their own gifts, such was their arrogance that the devil need not tempt them, for they damned themselves willingly."
"The Princes of Aternum were the latest and most successful of these blasphemies. Whence they came from and how I do not know, but their origin, like much in this earth, is Isarceal."
"The histories say that the first of their brood, the Eternal Emperor, left that land for Etruvia, where he became Lord of a small settlement by the name of Aternum, a town that a millennium later, would be the center of the greatest empire to have ever existed. His spawn were the Princes of the blood, alongside them where his favoured, those he elevated to the same prominence. Each claimed divinity and would bestow blessings to their chosen. Theirs was mastery of many great and terrible things.
"The court of Iovita knew not the touch of death, the favoured of Aristophanes where artisans without peer, Mars gave his ilk Lordship of battle, Saccularius was the ultimate thief, Foecundus the father of monsters, to Marinae was given sight of the heavens and the fate of nations, Janus wielded the laws of man and nature like one would a quill."
The awe such descriptions would inspire was severely cut but the potent contempt and disdain inflicted with each word the Bishop spoke, even so, you burned with curiosity and dread alike, for while this knowledge is most fascinating, its implications are horrid.
The Bishop, if he noticed your change of expression, paid it no heed, and continued his answer, albeit in a more subdued tone.
"And these are but some of that accursed line, for they were numerous, and little was left that sheds light on them.
Their end you know already, the Lord smote down the master of Aternum, and the Princes fell to their own machinations and those of their enemies. Those that still live are but a pale shadow of the lineages of old."
Your mind goes to that awful scene in the villa, and the one who dwelt within it, and you suppress a shiver. Pale shadows indeed.
Your liege took a sip from his cup, the cider having long cooled down, before continuing, his tone bearing more worry than hatred this time around.
"As for Aestas, she is the Gilded queen, the Lady of Rot and mistress of Voconia. Her's is the blood of Foecundus and Ndar, and Pulchir is her mate. Her fame was made when she conquered Voconia in the war of emperors and then moved to capture the heartland of Aternum. She failed, her armies crushed and husband dead, she retreated to her residence in the thickets of Valensole, where she remained ever since."
"Her court, however, remained active despite the indisposed nature of its mistress, and its scions have had dealings and encounters with men high and low, their purpose unknown but worrisome nevertheless. For little good can come of the cursed broods of Aternum."
This confuses you, for why would one choose to serve such a creature, more so one that hadn't left its lair?
Sir Marce did not seem evil in the least, is it his loyalty to Voconia and its master? Or is there more to this tale than you understand?
Whatever it is, you do not get the chance to ask his Excellency for elaboration, for he dismisses you shortly after, telling you to rest and prepare for the journey to come, and pray for the Lord and the saints to keep you.