|After a turbulent end to the century and the dawning of a new era, the years to come seemed to shine light upon the theory of a prosperous and relatively peaceful period of time. However, as we all should know, history is bound to repeat itself if one does not choose to consider the factors from the past. To old Hyperion Lionheart of Zephyr, ruler of the mightiest power in all of Verus, this is a complete misconception. Rumors are just rumors, correct? They infect a population through word of mouth at the tables of wealthy nobility, or around the campfire of a bandit's camp, spreading faster than any disease. The believability in the story told, almost always altered from whence it originally came from, solely relies on personal opinions of the receiver. To some, rumors may be labelled as propaganda and slander. To some, they may be considered the hidden truth from the corrupt order that refuses to facilitate the lives of its so-called "minions." In the end, the choice is simply ours to dictate our own beliefs and view upon the growing dilemma before us.|
|Year 622, the 354th Day - just two more fateful days before the beginning of the New Year. The Penumbra, the name of the deadliest conflict in the history of Verus where hundreds of thousands combined lost their lives, has been lost in the echo since its aftermath. Though survivors have emphasized the catastrophic effect that it dealt on the six powers, the governments have not released an official statement on the matter while they continue their efforts in the reconstruction of their countries. Excluding the raging civil war happening in Magna Carte between the two major Takeda clans, the Sabers and the Blades, all seemed bright for the future of Verus; until a rumor from an unknown source explodes. Tensions begin to steep between Zephyr and Narcissus, former rivals turned allies, with representatives from both trying to pacify the public and reconcile any differences between the two countries. Of one of these representatives, comes the Crown Prince of Narcissus, the only true son of the past Corrupt Emperor Tyndareus Shadowthorn.|
(If you have two characters, I'd recommend splitting them into one of the two arcs (Ren and Milos). Otherwise, choose where you'd like to begin)
Valios "Milos" Shadowthorn was practically trembling in mixed emotions of fear and worry for his uncle. From the raised pillar-like balcony that he sat in, he could feel the intensity in the air of the court meeting already settle. A devious smile formed around the mouth of Tyndareus, flanked by the ten members of the Wyn Council serving as jurors. Azrael, formerly known as the Fourth Archangel, Angel of Death, and his mentor five years ago, loitered against a magically-sealed cell which was bound to the wall by a plethora of locks and chains. Azrael had been imprisoned and revoked of his Archangel title after speaking out against his father when he had been resurrected, which was the reason why they were here again. For a year, he and his uncle had tried to convince Tyndareus and the Wyn Council to free Azrael, but to no avail. The Seven Archangels - Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Selaphiel, Jegudiel, and Barachiel, surrounded the cell with their one-of-a-kind weapons a heartbeat close in case something were to happen. Milos always kept his experimental arquebus, a prototype of a future enhancement in the technology involved in the mechanics of the deadly weapon, near him when he was in the Royal Palace. Anything could happen at any moment, and he would be ready if something did. It had also been one of the few suggestions that he was given by Solerin, the head of the Wyn Council, and it was said that any information from a Wyn was to be listened to. Milos was skeptical on the entire ring of Wyn serving as his father's advisers, he had only seen them and his father few times. It may have been from the fact that Milos traveled out of Narcissus frequently, but they were still quite sinister to him. Silently observing the beauty of a weapon that he was given, he also listened closely as the elderly senator began to speak, seeing a look of content from his father. Today, the air in the palace had felt different than normal. It seemed more constricted and hallow compared to previous times, which raised more questions from him.
"Azrael has clearly done nothing to defame or desecrate the laws of Narcissus, lest we are prosecuting our own people for expressing their own beliefs." And again, a shudder went down Milos' spine. Ever since his father had been brought back alive, anybody who spoke out against him was either imprisoned or even executed privately. Jai had to make sure that what he was saying didn't fit that category, because his life-
Milos bolted upright to the sudden firing of an arquebus, looking all around the court room. Screams from the minor nobles that consisted of lords, high-ranked officers, and senators filled the air as smoke dramatically swept around him. Through it he watched his uncle fall back from the podium, blood erupting from the right side of his neck. It took him a moment to register what had happened - somebody just killed Senator Jai Yair. From what Milos could see, however, was that nobody else in the court room held an arquebus except for him. His weapon had been unloaded the entire time, though, but all of the evidence went directly to him. The smoke billowing around his general area, the angle of which Jai had been hit by the shot, and from the stunned stares of the people below. Milos looked Tyndareus right in the black of his eyes, watching his mouth open to say the words he'd never expect.
"My son, Prince Valios Shadowthorn..." Tyndareus paused, pointing at Milos and warning the crowd. "...committed this act of murder! You shall be put to death!"
Milos did the first thing that his mind enacted: run away from the scene. Jetting down the upper hallway of the palace and into his bedroom, he locked the grand doors behind him. He knew that it wouldn't last long because a Wyn's magic could easily plow through typical locks, but it would save him some time from the guards. Milos quickly scrambled to his balcony, looking out into Atrum and the night sky that loomed above it. With a deep breath, he carefully jumped off of the side and began to climb down the palace walls.
Climbing down the walls wasn't too difficult nor easy, mainly because of the training that he had received from Azrael five years ago to pass the Trial. It relied on most aspects of physical condition, specifically agility and strength. Once Milos reached ground level, he instantly ducked into the shadows. As he had expected, a convoy of guards emerged from the gates of Atrum Castle. A familiar voice, no doubt belonging to an Archangel, chanted out:
"Find the Exiled Prince, bring him to me dead or alive!" He crept behind the walls of a house, keeping to the darkness. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't think about what had just happened; he had to leave Atrum - alive.
Ren Kyu Orcus gazed up at the starry sky, resting atop of the roof to his house. Although he'd lived in the village of Astra, Zephyr, for twelve years, not once had he grown old of its beauty. Winter was finally coming to an end, and so was Year 622; a whole 356 Days, gone with the wind just like that. He would be twenty years old when the 213th Day came by, but he knew very well that he wouldn't leave the village. His best friend, Luther Invalesco, would turn nineteen; but retain his mentality of a four year old having a tantrum over nothing. Ren yawned, fully relaxed and tired from the long day of working the farm. Every day was almost the same routine: wake up, eat, train, work, hunt, work, eat, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Without Luther, he didn't know how boring it could get. Things were normal for Ren, sometimes, too normal for him to handle.