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What Comes Next?

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[x] The Autarch

The past is the past and cannot be simply repeated. If we restore the Empire, it must be in a way that lets it change with the times. Stability and trade relations over mere conquest of land.

Also permanent enchantment on objects and temporary enchantments on people.

Everything changes.


[x] Relief
 
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Rossum said:
The past is the past and cannot be simply repeated. If we restore the Empire, it must be in a way that lets it change with the times. Stability and trade relations over mere conquest of land.

Also permanent enchantment on objects and temporary enchantments on people.

Everything changes.
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Keep in mind all the paths are from an IC perspective. All of them took the action that Lucy felt best helped the Empire in the long term. And permanent/temporary enchantments are not going to be any more world changing than the other paths.
 
[x] The Sovereign
[x] Confusion

Well, back in the real world, the ability to control emotions to your favor is good
 
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    • [X] The Sovereign
    [X] Confusion

    Yet again you'd been pulled away from everything without even an explanation. It was all gone; the kingdom you had spent thirteen years rebuilding and reuniting, the wars you had fought, the friends and enemies you had made. Come morning Lilith would be distraught when she found out you were missing. She'd get the entire palace staff looking for you. Panic, pandemonium, what if the border states broke away again? And Gareth, oh gods Gareth would be besides himself with worry and fear.

    But that had been Max just outside the door, just as bratty as you remembered him. And Dad had to be downstairs, making breakfast and getting ready for work. Sweet gods when was the last time you had actually thought you'd be able to see them again? This couldn't be real, could it?

    Peace, a ghostly hand touched your shoulder, and you forced out an uneven breath. Things are as they are, Lucy. You smiled at the familiar words, turning to the apparition hanging at your side. He was indistinct, a pale shade that was little more than a torso with arms and a head, outlined by wisps of blue light flickering like candle flames. You took comfort in his presence all the same. "At least one friend is still with me."

    Indeed I am, Draschal said, responding to her thoughts. Why you have been returned can be addressed later, but for now you should see to your family. You've missed them for a long time, after all.

    You nodded, sitting up straight and squaring your shoulders. You had no idea what was going on, but your family was right there, just down the stairs, and you wanted to see them. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you stepped out of your bedroom and walked down to the first floor. The plush carpet sunk underneath your bare feet, soft and yielding and achingly familiar. The walls were painted a soft grey, and the sound of a skillet shifting on top of a gas stove filled the air.

    "...get her again? It's not my fault she's always so slow," Max rounded the door to the kitchen just as you hit the first floor, coming face to face with you. You looked the fourteen year old over, taking in features you hadn't seen in what felt like forever. Blue eyes and brown hair, pinchable cheeks that still had baby fat... Had he always been as tall as he was? You remember him being shorter.

    "Oh, you came down already," Max turned around towards the kitchen. "Nevermind Dad, she's he-ack!" He cut off as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could. "Ack! Dad help, help! Lucy's trying to crush my chest!" You don't pay attention to his words, instead focusing on the fact that your little brother was right here in front of you. This is what you do with siblings you haven't seen in a long time, right? You hug them with all you strength. You tried to lift him up off the ground, but your arms were weaker than you remembered and it didn't last.

    "Well, this isn't something you see every day," a deep voice said. You looked up and saw your father standing at the door. The tall, well muscled firefighter looked way too domestic with his white t-shirt and pink cooking smock. "If you're feeling that lively this morning, maybe you can let your brother go so we can eat breakfast?"

    "Uh, yeah, sure," you say, smiling. Max pulled away from your arms and ducked back into the kitchen, with you following after him. The kitchen table was familiar, old and battered and stained just like you remembered. None of the chairs matched, but that was okay because only your family used them. Yours was the wooden armchair, the creaky one with a short leg that had to be propped up with an old dictionary.

    This is how things went for you back then, right? Before you were summoned to Dolinar and got a crash course in politics, your mornings were you sitting at the breakfast table and eating with your family.

    "So Max," Dad said, pulling the skillet from the stove and doling out the servings. "Anything big happening at school today?" He slid two rashers of bacon and a sunny-side up egg onto your plate as Max answered. You pick up the masterwork fork (made by mass production, you remind yourself) and begin to eat your food. The egg is still warm and runny, the edges are burnt, and it's been liberally coated in salt. This was so different from the meals you've had for the past thirteen years. At the palace you'd either be in your small hall discussing strategy with your advisors or in the feasting hall being briefed on whatever the latest emergency was. If you were on campaign it would be much the same only in a cramped tent full of too many people. In both cases servants would be running every which way bearing trays of food and jugs of water.

    Dad said something, and you're shaken from your thoughts. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?"

    "The test later today," he said. "You feeling up for it?"

    "Yeah, I am," you say. You do remember studying for it, the night before you were summoned to Dolinar. But you don't even remember what subject it was for, let alone the material. You look down at your almost empty plate, there's only half a rasher left. You don't even remember eating what was there. Were you that lost in thought?

    "Um, I'm gonna go shower," you say, shoving the last bit of bacon into your mouth as you flee the table. You almost missed the look Max and Dad trade with each other, but caught it as you fled up the stairs to the bathroom.

    You close the bathroom door behind you a breath out an uneasy sigh. Definitely acted strange back there. But what were you supposed to do? You haven't interacted with them in forever, and you have all these tangled up thoughts inside eating away at you. You can be forgiven for not instantly adjusting back to the way things were, right? A ragged sigh escaped your lips as you stripped out of your pink pajamas (why were you so obsessed with the color?) and stepped into the shower, turning the knob all the way. At the very least the palace had had pipes of running water, so that was one thing you were still used too. Then the water turned scalding and you let out a panicked squeak.

    Hot! Hot hot hot! You fumbled for the handle even as you tried to get out of the stream of HOT water. You grabbed the knob and turned it back down to a more sane temperature, and leaned against the wall, your breath easing.

    Although, you supposed, there was a difference between a wood burning stove meant to provide for an entire palace and a dedicated water boiler.

    The shower was relaxing. The warm water pounded away at the crown of your head as you kneaded shampoo into short brown hair and rubbed soap on to unblemished skin. You had forgotten what it was like to not have long hair or scars running across your sides. In battled you kept it in a tight bun beneath your helmet, but otherwise the long flowing braid played to the image the court had of you. It was another new thing to get accustomed to, but it gave you a place to start.

    You couldn't go to school today, that was out of the question. Not only was there the test you had absolutely no memory of, there was the fact that you wouldn't be able to keep up a front for long. You needed time to remember the social customs and forms of address to your teachers and classmates. If you were lucky you'd get away with it, but Amanda and Jen would definitely realize something was wrong. And they were your friends, so it isn't like they'd accept being brushed off either.

    There was a gentle knock at the door. "Lucy," Dad said, his voice muffled by the wood. "If you don't feel up to taking the test today and want to study some more, I can call the school and tell them that you are sick today. I don't mind, and the school should let you make up for it later."

    "N-," You bite off the instinctive refusal that rose to your lips and breathed out a breath. He thought you just needed more time to study. Play to that, a bit of shame and hesitance would go a ways to convincing him. "Y-yeah, that would be nice. Thanks, Dad."

    "It's what I'm here for, sweetie," Dad said. "Me and Max are going to be heading out in a bit. If there's anything you want to talk about when get back, let me know."

    And that was the question, wasn't it? What do you tell, and to whom. You could go back to the way things were before, pretend nothing had happened and just let the memories and experience wash away like water under a bridge. Draschal would always be by your side, but you wouldn't part from his presence even if you could. A part of you rebelled at the idea of locking it all away, of forgetting. What had happened in Dolinar was real, and none of it should be lost. But if you told anyone about it, your life would be different from then onwards. The life you had before would be gone. And if went public with your magic and performed it in front of people, you would get sucked right back into the mire of intrigue that is politics. You were good at the game, no question, but you didn't want to spend the rest of your life as a celebrity and object of interest, dancing around reporters and government agents. That would be you life if you went public.

    You shook your head, splattering water against the curtain. You could think about whether or not you'd go public with anything. The current problem is what are you going to tell your family. Because what you do and don't tell them is certainly going to change your relationship with them.

    What to explain right away to Dad and Max? Note that just because you don't tell them now doesn't mean you can't tell them more in the future.
    [] Nothing. What happened in Dolinar is over with. It's done, there's nothing more to talk about.
    [] Minimal. They deserve some explanation, so you'll tell them that magic is real and give an overview of what happened to you, but no details.
    [] Details. They're your family, so they deserve to know. You'll tell them about Draschal, about the people you met, and about how you rebuilt Dolinar. But the big things are private, personal. They don't need to know about the friends who died. Or about Gareth. Or Lishtha.
     
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    • [X] Nothing. What happened in Dolinar is over with. It's done, there's nothing more to talk about.
     
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    [X] Details. They're your family, so they deserve to know. You'll tell them about Draschal, about the people you met, and about how you rebuilt Dolinar. But the big things are private, personal. They don't need to know about the friends who died. Or about Gareth. Or Lishtha.

    They're going to assume we're chuunibyou
     
    [X] Nothing. What happened in Dolinar is over with. It's done, there's nothing more to talk about.
    Lets get our bearings first before we make ourselves look crazy hm?
     
    [x] Nothing. What happened in Dolinar is over with. It's done, there's nothing more to talk about.
     
    [X] Minimal. They deserve some explanation, so you'll tell them that magic is real and give an overview of what happened to you, but no details.

    Make sure they are somewhat informed, but we don't want to overload them with information. Small chunks, with a clearer picture coming with time
     
    [x] Minimal. They deserve some explanation, so you'll tell them that magic is real and give an overview ofwhat happened to you, but no details.

    No hiding things from our family, but no need to overwhelm them right away.
     
    [x] Minimal. They deserve some explanation, so you'll tell them that magic is real and give an overview of what happened to you, but no details.

    How... interactive is our ghost-friend, anyway? Can he act independently from us, or is he tied to our perception, what we personally see and hear?
     
    Nevill said:
    How... interactive is our ghost-friend, anyway? Can he act independently from us, or is he tied to our perception, what we personally see and hear?
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    As far as research into the subject has gone, He technically is you, but with a separate set of memories that you can access, his own feelings, etc. He can choose to act on these without your own conscious direction, but it is always something you subconsciously want. It's all very messy.

    In practice, the only times when Draschal will act against you is when you are acting against yourself, such as being mind controlled or trapped in a depressive spiral. He interacts normally with any being that has a soul, is completely intangible and incorporeal to things without souls, and falls somewhere in between with magical stuff. A sword wont hurt him unless it's a) a ghost's sword, b) a magic sword, or c) the wielder themself is potently magical.
     
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