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Thread: Legacy

  1. #1
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    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
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    Legacy

    Pre-story to the killing of Lye Ulroke.
    "Protect that which is most precious to you. Protect those who you hold closest to your heart."


  2. #2
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    That day the wind was on fire. Some ill-fitting warm current, presumably from a foreign shore, swept high into the Jagged Peaks. As the sun born earnestly down with a cloudless sky there was little to do but sweat and moan. The pool that the army of the Gilded Lily had made just two months before was filled to the brim with cool water, stolen from the central fortress well. Several bodies dangled out of it in a myriad of poses, some fully naked, others dressed in limited clothing. They laughed and cheered, being not the ones currently surveying the mighty forest from the battlements of the cliff-borne castle.


    A sheer cliff above and below, the Lily Fortress was a monument to the guarded hearts of the feminists that lay within her walls. Accessible only via a steep winding cliff path it was well protected and well-maintained. Anyone on the gatehouse could see the entire path, and thus cry out if any unknown rider, messenger or army was making its way upwards. Of course, there was the risk that someone could attack from above, assailing down the sharp clifface from the peak above - but getting there was difficult. It was full of traps that the Lily members had purposefully set up, and in a forest full of wild animals. There was also a constant camp of four or five women atop that craggy peak, waiting for such an attack to happen.


    But guarding on such a day like today was nauseous. It was exhausting, terrible and full of perspiration. Chainmail was a compromise - wear it and you were stifling, take it off and you were vulnerable. It was the same with weapons - carry too many and you tired quickly, carry too few ... well.


    Philomel van der Aart, Matriarch of the Lily, proud faun and beloved of the goddess Drys, spared no expense. Draped in every weapon she possessed, especially the two white-bladed swords that acted as her main hands, she strode along the battlements taking her turn in duty. Though her position did not require her to, recently she had made it her mission to show the girls that she had rescued - often single-handedly and personally - from slavery, abusive partners and pimps, that she was one of them. That her own story was just like theirs, beginning in a brothel called the Crouching Tiger so long ago. With her mother, a rapist, a punishing pimp ...


    Now the Crouching Tiger lay in ashes, a testament to the beginning of what had now become a legacy. A name whispered on the lips of defeated whores across the land, a name murmured by many women underneath their controlling husbands. A name rumoured through the slavery streets of Salvar and the city-state of Hernsford, Keribas ... A name of hope.


    But that hope was beginning to dwindle in Philomel's own heart. For she had heard the talk. The talk that the Crimson Hand, the assassin's guild she had once been part of and where she had begun her assent to power, was recreated, and back under the control of Lichensith Ulroke. That snake. Even though the man himself had been under the influence of Maddison Freebird the Briarheart for a while - and that in itself had made the Crimson Hand at least tamer, and more bearable - he was still a monster. The ways he had manipulated the girl Amari, the lover of Philomel's close friend - and possibly dead - Shinsou, and had heartlessly once set the entire Crimson Hand against each other to fight, just for his own amusement - those were unforgivable things, in the faun's opinion. They were the actions of a mad man, a crazed power-hungry serpent, who longed for nothing more than to have power.


    Power. But not the freedom that Philomel promised. Instead bloody, thirsty power that made a throne out of corpses.


    Slowly, Philomel van der Aart breathed, tilting her face up to the sun. Her eyes blinked, rapidly, but she kept looking, let her eyes wander over the blue, blue skies. With her hair plaited down her neck she sighed into the warm wind, wishing it would rain like it had not for almost two weeks, and that the rain would bring better things. Her heart heavy, and her weapons baring her back down she let out a groan, wondering what she should do about this. For surely, soon, Lye would send out his assassin and shadowy army to claim her glory, to tear down everything she had built up.


    Now he was back, now he had his power again.


    "I need to protect my own," she whispered, suddenly, her eyes dropping back to the road. The empty road. "I need to protect her, before he finds out."


    And with that she signalled to the gatekeeper that she was ending her own watch early, and heading away. The gatekeeper nodded, letting her go, for no one argued with the Matriarch.


    And Philomel thundered down the stone steps, past the pool in the courtyard. She headed straight for the keep, where her and a few chosen others rooms were, all to head to the map. And the books. And the documents.


    Everything that mentioned her daughter.
    Last edited by Philomel; 08-11-2017 at 09:42 AM.

  3. #3
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    Her name was Celandine, of no surname. According to tradition she was the daughter of one of the brothel whores, attributed to the eccentric, flighty, ginger faun called Anthea Rose. A woman who spent little time with her supposed daughter, but had given the time to be her wet nurse. Anthea Rose had made no formal claim on the young girl, but it was generally accepted by the patrons of the Sleeping Wyrd that she was. There were other children within the confines of the large complex of buildings that made up the brothel and public house, but their parentages was certain, and well documented. Celandine was unfortunate. She had no birth records, or papers.


    The Matron of the Sleeping Wyrd was a human by the name of Etna. Her brother Ennis ran the pub side of things, and together they made a formidable team. Between them they had two children already, Jakob and Suzy - nobody could remember which sibling had parented which, and it was likely that they were a product of incest - and it had not taken long for Etna to take Celandine under her wing also. Thus, the young faun grew up with protection, and with love, and by the time she was four and a half years (to the day, for such things are important) this born-to-be heroine was happy, strong-willed and displaying genius-level intelligence.


    Though her world was that of the Sleeping Wyrd courtyard, and connected surrounding buildings, Celandine was by no means lacking for adventure. With Jakob and Suzy as playmates, she learnt how to be independent, at times offbeat and surprisingly vocal. The patrons of the pub and brothel came to know her as 'The Sprite' for her apparent ability to be able to appear from nowhere, make some off-hand - and often-times rude - comment, then disappear just as suddenly. They did not listen to the courtesans who tried to explain that the buildings were old, and thus filled with small servants stairs, secret tunnels and hiding places for which to spy through. They simply imagined that she was a fairy child, placed in the Sleeping Wyrd to bring joy and mischief.


    Joy and mischief. Two elements so often related to one another, yet so dissimilar in context.


    "Darling," Etna said warmly, coming over to the young faun.


    Currently Celandine was standing at the edge of the West Tower, a small upper floor in the north-east corner of the Sleeping Wyrd from which one could see the entire courtyard of the building complex. It was a single room, accessed by a spiral staircase, which had a usefully placed balcony. The room was often used for particularly opulent guests who enjoyed scenery and also appreciated privacy. A canopied bed was the only furniture, with the floors draped with cushions, rugs and blankets. When the room was not in use, Etna knew she could find Celandine here, quietly biding her time and keeping to her own thoughts.


    "See," the young girl said, extending a hand and pointing down to a rather rowdy trio of men, joyfully wolf-whistling two courtesans near the courtyard's fountain. It was shaped like a goose. "They are Jerry, Huber and Malister, three men who are happy because Jerry got engaged today. Huber is from Salvar, and is happy to be here, because he doesn't like the cold of his country, and Malister is happy because he is from Fallien, where he finds it too hot. So they are all happy because of different reasons."


    Etna, a large woman with darker skin and hailing originally from the island nation of Fallien herself smiled as she saw where Celandine was pointing. Indeed, one of the men had the exceptionally pale skin of a man from Salvar, and the one that the faun hailed as 'Malister' had the tanned skin. Though the men clearly were not celebrating an engagement, Etna delighted in the imaginations of the child, and found herself stroking the long blonde hair that was streaming from Celandine's head.


    "I do see, darling," she replied, in the same gentle tone, "I see that they are full of happiness."


    Celandine dropped her hand as she nodded. "Jerry is going to be married in the spring. His future wife thinks it is a good time to be married because of all the flowers." A couple of times she blinked, then she tilted her head upwards to Etna, a huge beam on her face. "I like flowers, did you know that?"


    "I know you do," Etna said, slowly bending down to come to Celandine's level. "Because you are named after one." On 'you' she pressed over the young girl's hair, making some of the locks of her fringe fall over her shoulder, and cause Celandine to giggle.


    "Aunty Etna," she giggled, "That's my hair!"


    The Matron smiled warmly, sliding her hand down to the girl's arm. "I know, darling," she said, "And it is beautiful hair."


    Celandine nodded, pausing and then extending her arms. She knew that Etna had come here to look for her with a purpose. And that was for dinner.


    "Just like mama's," Celandine said, with determination. Causing Etna to smile.


    "Just like your mama's, indeed," the Matron said quietly, picking the child gently up. Placing her near her shoulder she supported the young faun, then stood up straight. Celandine rested against Etna's side, happily smiling. "Just like your mama's."


    Just as Celandine dreamed her mother's was like.
    Last edited by Philomel; 08-11-2017 at 09:39 AM.

  4. #4
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    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
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    Philomel van der Aart had not been born with purple hair.


    Rather, her natural colouring was a chocolate chestnut, the exact tones and hues of the fur on her legs. Instead, after her own initial declaration of independence, before the times she had been called 'Matriarch,' Philomel had begun to dye it. At first the mixture had been the natural brown and a light lavender combination, professionally twisted into dreadlocks. Then, time had passed, and with the need to hide her identity after being blamed for some weirdo's death in Alerar, Philomel had changed it. The dreadlocks had gone, old alliances were broken, and eventually the full head had become what it was now - a deep, dark violet that was infamous in the many countries she had influence.


    Her mother, Lacey van der Aart - goddess rest her soul - had been a woman of fair composition, with the same grey, focused eyes, but with a head and legs of a fawn and sandy connection. Now she lay in ashes, burnt on the pyre as per Drys' tradition, then her remains scattered amongst the vegetable patches of the fortress. Drys, after all, taught about the cycle of life, and how that which was born from the earth must return to it. And all those who chose the life of a warrior in the Gilded Lily army, or the life of a pirate and sailor on its ship, the mighty Feisty Fox, chose in part to honour the worship of the tree goddess. Chose to be taught Drys' values and remembrances, even though a belief in her was not forced, and other religions were allowed. In this way, Philomel van der Aart, as Drys' blessed faun, had spread the word about her love and truth, making the name a murmur on many more lips than what had been previously.


    Thus it was that Philomel came to the vegetable garden, which was situated in a tiny area that was an offshoot from the main courtyard. It led directly to the door of the kitchens, which was constantly billowing with steam, even at night and run now by a large, boney ex-whore by the name of Buchamp. A woman who fought with her kitchen knives as weapons. Buchamp gave Philomel a formal nod from the kitchen window as the Matriarch stepped into the garden, and Philomel raised her hand back. Then she lowered it, carefully, remembering why she had come here.


    Remembering the ashes scattered here. The carefully folded papers in her hand.


    Softly letting out a sigh, she gazed at the twisted vines and leaves and began to whisper.


    "Hello mother," she said. "I have decided, after a long time, to tell you about my daughter."


    Her eyes dropped down at the papers in her hand, which formally registered the birthplace, time and father of the child, all under the courts of Radasanth, as well as all the receipts of payments to a particular brothel and pub there.


    "Her name is Celandine, and I have hidden her from the world, for four and a half years now," she swallowed strongly. "Mother, I kept her from you, but that was only because I knew you. You were sick in your later years, so distant from life, and between strengths and weaknesses that I did not trust your sanity. Sometimes you were my mother, other times you were a stranger, and so I am sorry for never telling you. But now I am."


    Looking back up to the window Philomel smiled slightly as she watched Buchamp madly hacking at a row of carrots.


    "Mother, I have built so much here - we did it together. And now I want to share this with my daughter. Right now she is protected, and loved, and I hid her for fear of what our enemies might do to her, but I know right now it is time to begin raising her as my own. To keep her here, where no man can get to her, and be proud of what I have made."


    Tears began to fall, and roughly the Matriarch wiped at them.


    "I have been a coward over her, mother, like you were a coward with father. But he is gone now, so long gone, and so are you. So I must stop my fear and protect that which is closest to me. I honestly fear that the path I am going down may lead to my death, but mother -"


    She sucked in her breath, swallowing against the lump in her throat.


    "Mother ... almighty Drys, I ask you this. Watch over my child as I wage war against a tyrant. Keep her safe and let her know about her past, who she was and where she comes from. Let her know the history of her ancestors, of Pan and of me ... and if I die, then help her father to be strong. To be able to support her in every decision, like you have done to me."


    "Let her be a legacy."
    Last edited by Philomel; 08-11-2017 at 09:38 AM.

  5. #5
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
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    Philomel's Avatar

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    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
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    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
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    Female (+ Male)
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    Corone

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    Returning to Radasanth was like returning to an old lover who is always pleased to meet you.


    The Gilded Lily, and Philomel's legacy had begun there, after all. From the ashes of the Couching Tiger to the high West Tower of the Sleeping Wyrd the city had been hers, at least in part, for a long time. Ever since the slow dissolution of the Ixian Knights, who had once been Philomel's greatest enemy and were now fading into myth, the city had been reborn in terms of power. Oh yes there had been the political coo, sending various men pitted against each other in heated debates, and the barons of Corone had been at each others' throats for a very long time. However, the underworld still thrived, the brothels and the pubs were still run, and through them the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily had her power, all under the guise of a union.


    For on the surface that was what the Gilded Lily was, that was what it had always been. A union of various brothels who happened to all have gotten rid of their corrupts pimps and placed women back in charge. Who cared if they happened to also gather secrets, run assassinations if asked, and do all sorts of other favours if the morals were right and money crossed a palm? All as long as the corrupt governments were being worked against, and the impoverished were being raised from the gutter.


    Everyone who was anyone recognised the lowing bovine beast as it lumbered through the streets. Up in the colds of Salvar, where the tera'k was more at home, the beast was less recognised, for a few people rode them up there and 'Philomel van der Aart' was nothing more than a cold memory of a once lone assassin. Down here, however, in the hometown where she had begun, people heard her being talked about with rumours. As her beast passed, with faun on its back and a rusty red fox in tow, whores peered out of windows and gang members ground their axe edges. Followers and enemies lay in wait, some having risked battle in the past, much to their disappointment. And death. Others simply smiled and got on with their work, knowing who exactly walked in their path, and others still only seeing a cow with a goat-bitch riding it.


    It's quiet today, Veridian yawned as he pattered beside the tera'k. Claws retracted he was a silent ghost beside the lumbering hooves of the animal.


    "It is a little," Philomel nodded, her voice quiet. "But then this is not a market day."


    What day is it? he asked her, in her mind as usual.


    The faun shrugged a little, her hands wound into the fur at the base of the tera'k's neck. The reigns, too, where in her fists, but still she gripped onto the hair like it was another lifeline to hold her sanity in check.


    I think it is Saturday, she replied, now in the same method of communication. And early morning too.


    No, its early, is it?
    drawled the fox-form earth-spirit sarcastically. He had been growing snarkier throughout their two days of travel. I didn't notice because of the lack of light when you cruelly woke me. Early.


    Philomel sighed. Last night they had camped at the edge of Concordia forest, about a mile from the Radasanth wall. It was safe there, and though Philomel had a million safe places to stay within Radasanth itself she had wanted one last moment alone, to gather her thoughts. To tell herself this was the right idea. And then, she had hardly slept the entire night, grown agitated, and so told Veridian that they were going then and there. Without breakfast. Veridian had gotten so annoyed that he decided to walk.


    Which had added more time to their journey, for he had much smaller paws than the giant bovine creature. And that more time meant more mulling by Philomel.


    Are you sure-


    Yes, I am sure this is the right decision! Veridian said, not for the first time. Yes, you are making the right choice, and yes, I support you. Honestly, Philomel, it is as if you have asked me this a thousand times already.


    You are uncommonly sarcastic and moody today, she frowned.


    Well someone woke me up early and still has not apologised.


    That almost made Philomel forget her worries and burst into laughter. Almost. As they turned the corner a large wooden, painted sign came into view, right outside a gateway. The Sleeping Wyrd it said, Public House and Services. With the sight of it, the beginnings of any smile faded from Philomel's face and mind and she pulled the tera'k to a gentle stop, eyes focused on the sign.


    "Sorry," she murmured, as Veridian came to a stop by the gateway also.


    He huffed, and accepted it, even though he knew the truth.


    He knew the apology was not just for him.
    Last edited by Philomel; 08-11-2017 at 09:36 AM.

  6. #6
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,350


    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

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    Wrapped in a cloak of shimmering pattern, of purple-blue, glistening colour, Philomel stepped in through the gateway of the Sleeping Wyrd. Hand wrapped around the reigns of her tera'k, and the russet coloured fox running on paws as agile as an alpin goat, the Matriarch carefully walked into a region of her empire. With swords hidden neatly behind the cloak, and the rest of her weapons stashed away in the bags on the tera'k's back, she looked warm and comforting, humble yet glorious. Today she had chosen not to wear her chestguard, or her gauntlets, or any other item of armour. Just her swords, a blouse and her cloak. It was all that she felt she needed as she entered this, the next stage of her life.


    Silence fell upon the occupants of the courtyard. For the whores at least, they knew exactly who they were looking at, as soon as her hooves touched the hallowed ground. For the men who were stumbling from well-paid beds and heading either to the Sleeping Wyrd's tavern or their homes, she simply was another woman. Probably another Etna, a visiting Matron, proud and well-dressed. Philomel watched as one elf man stumbled from doorway to the fountain. He gave her a wry smile as she passed, then sloshed his head face-first into the cold water of the shell-shaped basin. Her tera'k lowed back in response, and Philomel gave him a curt nod, knowing that he likely did not know that it was her who had ultimate say over this establishment. After the nod, she turned around, continuing her way into the courtyard proper, to a shelter where temporary visitors could tie their horses - just outside the stable.


    Philomel watched as a young human woman she did not recognise, but sure recognised her, parted quickly from the side of another courtesan, and then ran right inside. Good, she thought, knowing that the human woman was going likely straight to find Matron Etna, The more smooth this goes the better.


    So this is the plan? Get her and go? Veridian said, swishing his long white-tipped tail. His golden eyes flicked around the courtyard, watching all of the faces in the windows, and the hurrying wenches. Be here only for ten minutes?


    His beloved companion sighed, making a slightly strained face, If we are to protect her before the battle begins, it has to be fast. Another day means another possible time that Lye is building up another army, another way to destroy Amari's sanity. We have to protect Celandine, find out if Shinsou is alive and-


    Oh so you're bringing him into this now?


    She sighed deeply, tying off the tera'k's reigns and making sure he had enough hay and water. Coming back over to her darling, she folded her arms and stood there, watching him and also waiting for someone to come and tend to them.


    He has every right to come with us, she said, It is his lover that Lye is hurting. If he is alive ... well. He has a right.


    So you are saying that you don't care now, about those two being an item? Veridian's top lip peeled back from his teeth in a jeering smile.


    Irritated, Philomel kicked dust and stone at him with a small movement of her hoof. He chittered, bouncing on his back legs.


    They are what they are. My history with Shinsou is what it is. If he wants to be with Mari, so be it. If he is not alive then at least in his memory I will go myself to the Seventh Sanctum and complete his last wish. She straightened her back and watched as a hurried and surprised Etna rushed from the brothel door, her brother in her wake. I will destroy Lichensith Ulroke.


    "My lady Matriarch!"


    Philomel looked up.


    Curtseying deeply, Matron Etna greeted Philomel with all the respect due to an empress. Beside her her brother, Ennis who ran the pub, also bowed. Even though, by technicality, he did not fall under Philomel's leadership, he still had a deep-seated respect for her. By being Etna's brother, and full time lover - oh yes, Philomel knew - he had been allowed to take part in the management of the place. Philomel had allowed it for the sake of Etna's happiness, and the fact he was a friendly and hard-working bar-tender when it came to it.


    "Please, nothing of that," Philomel quietly said, coming forwards and taking Etna's hand. Gently, she pulled the woman back up, seeing out of the corner of her eye that everyone - even the patrons, even the man at the fountain - were now staring. She fixed Etna with a stare. "Etna, I have come here for the purpose I always said I would."


    As Etna's head perked up, a line of worry furrowed into the woman's forehead.


    "My lady, are you sure? Celandine is happy here, she has a life, and friends. She gets on very well with my little Jakob and Suzy ..." Behind her, her blue-eyed brother nodded profusely.


    Letting out a slow sigh Philomel shook her head. "Etna, it has taken a lot of hard decisioning to come here. But the time has come." She let go of her hand. "A man from my past has returned, and is threatening the livelihood of some great people. I have to-" she paused, realising they were still out in the open. "Can we please go somewhere less public? These things need to be said in private."


    Nodding her head in another bow-like manner, Etna moved, gesturing. Her brother remained by her side, as if he were joined at the hip to her (sometimes they very much were) but continued to not say anything. Philomel looked down at Veridian, who skipped ahead, waving his tail in the air. A slow count took her to herself and him, for she knew that Delath was still back under the mountain at the Lily Fortress, and her rabbit Mao was somewhere snoozing in the keep. Under the constant watchful eye of Philomel's secretary, Gosling. And potentially Celandine's father.
    Last edited by Philomel; 08-11-2017 at 09:34 AM.

  7. #7
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,350


    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

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    They were shown into the brothel entrance hall, then from there down a short flight of stairs into a small mess. This was a private room for the whores themselves, away from where the patrons could go. It had a good fireplace, and various tables and comfy armchairs. It was towards these that Matron Etna gestured to head.


    Veridian leapt and took a seat for himself, curling up right away at the comforting warmth of the fire. Seeing the looks of consternation over the Matron's face and her brother's Philomel smiled slightly and opted for the footstool that matched the armchair. She crossed her legs beneath her and tucked her hooves under the legs. It took a moment for Etna to recover, find a seat for herself. Her brother blinked for a moment, not sure what to do.


    So Philomel spoke to him. "If you could please fetch Celandine, and pack anything she has."


    Ennis dropped his eyes to Etna, looking alarmed. But Etna nodded, a sigh forming on her lips. As the confused man bumbled out, Etna looked back up to her Matriarch.


    "My lady, please reconsider-"


    "If it is money that you worry about, Etna, it will still continue," Philomel said, her hands coming to rest on her lap. Her voice was calm and collected, the result of so many days' decisioning, worries and stresses. "I intend to pay you until what would be Celandine's eighteenth birthday, as I said I would."


    The Matron shook her head. "It is not that, it is because I think she is happy here. She has friends, she has access to so much here."


    "Yet she is being raised in a brothel," Philomel fixed her with a strong, determined look. "For the first few years of her life, it was always going to be fine, the rumour of her being Anthea Rose's daughter can still exist. But Celandine will get to the age - is at the age, I daresay, when she will begin to ask questions. And those questions will be passed onto others. In a brothel, in the middle of a busy city, anyone can seek her out, anyone can come here. She is not hidden. Therefore, before the rumours begin, and whilst I can now, it has come to the time when she must come out of the darkness and into the light."


    Etna was shaking her head. "My lady, I can protect her here-"


    "Not as well as the fortress can," Philomel replied, sitting up even straighter. Because the authority was with her, this was her time, and it was her daughter. "As I said there is a man come back, who has already threatened the well-being of so many. For the sake of the memory of a friend-"


    If Shinsou is dead.



    "Yes, thank you, darling, if he is dead," the faun inclined her head at Veridian, who had not moved and still had his eyes closed. Etna flinched with the idea of having him in her head, which of course she knew all about. Philomel went on. "For the sake of his memory, and if not his safety, for if he is alive he will do this himself. For the sake of ... a lot of things, I must go and find this man. Darkness is growing, and I have to protect those closest to me. Which includes Celandine."


    The Matron swallowed. "Madam, you are speaking as if you expect to die."


    Philomel nodded, still as collected. "I very well may do. And if I do, then Celandine will need help in running the Gilded Lily. I already have that all in place. Even her father-"


    "Her father!" Etna exclaimed. "You mean you do know who it is?!"


    The Matriarch rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. I have always known. Now, even he knows what to do. She will be well cared for, given choices, and if she decides that this whole project is not to her liking ... well. She has that choice too." She shrugged, "Either way, there will be many looking to her."


    Not to mention she'll be rich, Veridian chuckled.


    Shush you, Philomel hissed, You cannot say I have been generous in what I have given away.


    Yes, but you have too much to be able to give it all. So this kid will be rich.


    Philomel sighed, and stared hard at Etna. "No, I have made up my mind, and it is going to be this. Today I will take Celandine with me."


    Etna opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment Ennis walked back through the door. He held the hand of a young faun, not looking older than four, with tiny nubs for horns and fair fur on her bottom half. Her blonde hair was in two plaits that drifted down her shoulders, and she was dressed in a light yellow, pretty blouse. As she entered, her silvery eyes gazed around with all the innocence of childhood, and they came to settle on Philomel. As they did they began to grow, and her lips parted, her hoofsteps suddenly becoming nervous.


    Philomel's heart thumped. She moved slowly from the stool, matching the steady gaze of the young girl and knelt on the floor. Beside her Veridian slid open one gold eye and without blinking he watched.


    Ennis gave one last, 'do I have to' look at his lover-sister, but Etna nodded, looking away with her own tang of sadness. As for the girl, however, she seemed to suddenly gain in energy, her tiny hooves trotting past the stools and tables to come stand in front of Philomel, their heads now the same size, her eyes huge. Nibbling on her lip she let go of Ennis' hand and stood there, blinking and staring.


    Slowly, Philomel smiled finally, for the first time in a long time, and forced herself to relax. She held the look steady. And she breathed.


    "Do you know who I am?" she said quietly to the girl.


    And Celandine van der Aart nodded. "You are my mama," she mumbled.


    Philomel let out a slow, happy gasp, and she nodded. "I am, my sweet. I am. And I have finally come to take you home."

  8. #8
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,350


    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

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    "This is my best friend," Philomel smiled, as she picked her daughter up, with strong, warrior arms. Slowly Veridian opened his other eye and uncurled himself to look directly at the blonde-haired girl. "His name is Veridian, and he talks to me in my mind."


    Celandine blinked a little and waved shyly to the earth-spirit. "Hello fox," she whispered.


    Finding herself laughing, Philomel moved onto her hooves. "You can call him that for now," she replied to her daughter. "He doesn't like it, but you can call him it."


    "Fox, fox, fox," Celandine hummed in a tiny voice, pushing her arms around Philomel's neck.


    "Exactly," Philomel nodded, and looked around at Etna and Ennis.


    They were holding each other's hand. Tightly. Both of them were stiff down to the very bone marrow, holding back a thousand years of tears. Practically, they had raised this sweet girl, and now they were seeing her give her attention, her love to someone else. To the someone who was to carry her away. Possibly forever. For Celandine this was everything she had ever dreamed of - for her real mother to finally come and take her away to a castle. Young as she was, bright as she was, the little faun was fixed on Philomel, and held on as naturally as if she was a newborn baby.


    "She is my daughter," Philomel reminded them quietly.


    Swallowing hard, Etna nodded, and held out a small bundle, wrapped in a blanket. "She likes a glass of milk before bed time."


    The Matriarch fixed a look, then gave a nod before taking the blanket package and popping it under her arm. She twisted around to look at Veridian.


    Ready to go?


    Ready when you are,
    he stretched and skipped down from the chair, onto the floor. Swinging his tail he looked up to Celandine, and gave her a firm wink, before he proudly pattered away to the door.


    "Right," Philomel nodded, watching him disappear. Then she extended her arm holding Celandine slightly, wincing as her cloak became snagged. "Say goodbye to Etna and Ennis, Celandine. And say thank you."


    Celandine chewed her lip but waved. "Bye, bye aunty Etna and uncle Ennis."


    With a tight smile, Etna reached out and took her hand. "Goodbye, my darling," she whispered, in a strangled voice. And she stared at Celandine. And kept holding her hand.


    Kept holding.


    Philomel?


    "I am sorry," Philomel said, purposefully stepping away.


    Etna's hand was forced away from Celandine. The young faun put her arm back around Philomel's neck and rested her head against her shoulder. Her tiny eyes peered over, watching the face of the woman and man who had raised her from birth, watching them sink into despair. As she was carried on the shoulder of a princess. Away to her castle.


    Without so much as another word, Philomel headed straight for the tera'k. She nodded to a couple of the whores she recognised, as well as connecting eyes for a long time with the face of the ginger faun staring as she walked in. A moment of recognition, then acceptance passed wordlessly between the two fauns, before Philomel heaved up the bundle onto the tera'k's back.


    "This is my tera'k," she said to Celandine, as she hoisted the child up, "He is an animal that we as fauns ride. Very soon we'll get you your own, but for now you have to learn to hold on tight." She settled her at the front of the long saddle, and fixed her with a firm look. "Can you do that for me?"


    Nodding a couple of times Celandine showed her, by wrapping her hands into the fur in front. Warmly, Philomel nodded in reply.


    "Well done," she said, as she tied the bundle of her things onto the back of the saddle. "Because we'll be running fast to get back to my home."


    "To your castle?" Celandine whispered, eyes large.


    Philomel found herself, laughing, knowing what must the girl have been dreaming about all these years. She waited as Veridian pattered his feet, paused, then took the lithe leap to bounce up onto the back of the saddle. Where he usually sat, and where he could dig his claws into the leather.


    "It is like a castle, yes, sweetheart," Philomel answered, climbing up in between them, settling her hooves into the specially made stirrups. Slipping one arm around Celandine's waist she held her steady, whilst her other searched out the reigns. Looking around to check that Veridian was comfortable, she tightened her grip. "Though we call it a fortress, and it's a very safe place."


    "And you are a princess?"


    "Not quite, but you are." And for the second time in her life, Philomel kissed her daughter's head. The first time being just after birth, when she had gone through the hours of labour in a private, country infirmary. Nobody had been there, but for Veridian. Not even Celandine's father. It had been deliberately hidden, away from the world ... secret.


    "Wait ... WAIT!" came a scream, "You can't-"


    But Philomel was already turning the tera'k around. Away from Etna who was finally running from the brothel, her hands in the air, tears streaming down her face.


    "Wait, she's my daughter, SHE'S MY-"


    "My daughter," Philomel murmured, holding Celandine to her breast.


    And she jabbed her heels in, and flicked the reigns. Jumping forwards, the tera'k bellowed, then began to charge, running into the streets. Behind her, in the courtyard, it was Anthea Rose who ran down the stairs, reaching out to hold onto Etna. Saying loudly, "No she is not. She was never yours, Etna, she was always hers."

    Drys bless the fauns.


    The fauns who ran away through the streets of Radasanth, climbing out of it to the walls. The faun pair of mother and daughter gasping at her first tera'k ride, giggling at the people scattering. The faun family, gaining out of the city and into the countryside, heading straight for the forest, and all its secrets beyond.


    The fauns - Philomel van der Aart and her daughter, now truly hers.


    Now, openly. She had declared it.


    Soon the word would spread.
    Last edited by Philomel; 09-06-2017 at 08:55 AM.

  9. #9
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,350


    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    RAMESES VAERON
    He had never intended on being a father.


    But five years ago and three months, Vaeron Rameses had been drunk. And he had just begun his voyages and adventures with Philomel van der Aart, the faun who had originally been his prisoner, when he himself had been under the privateer Captain Tanglebeard. Yet, that had been another time, and another day, when things had been mightily different for both of them. Philomel had had only the beginnings of a Gilded Lily, and Vaeron had had no power, apart from his kooky friend Lavishingham. Over those few days Vaeron had joined the exotic faun, joined her in taking over Tanglebeard's vessel. From then on the Feisty Fish had been the Feisty Fox and for five and a half years now the Gilded Lily had a ship, had ties with the pirate King Malachi, and had been a force to be reckoned with on the seas.


    "You'm know," Vaeron had hiccupped as he balanced haphazardly next to Philomel on the poop deck of her boat. "I-huh think you'eh gonna be something big-eh!"


    He had swigged on his bottle. Apparently it was called 'grog' and was a sailor's favourite. Philomel had stuck to the wine. Yet she was also drunk, for they were celebrating their first proper full month of having the Feisty Fox open on the Scara Brae and Corone harbours as a successful portable brothel. Very successful. One month and they had become rich.


    "Vae," Philomel had replied, using the shortened version of his name that she did only when on the influence. "Vae, I know I am going to be something big."


    Unlike him, and most others, she was able to keep her language whilst drunk.


    Vaeron had laughed. "I can-an buh-lieve that, Philo-shmell. Which ish why I am th'thinkingsh."


    He had burped. And leant on her shoulder. She had twisted around, and looked at him through half-closed eyes. "Hmmm?"


    He grinned. "You shhhould have ah babeh."


    And that was how it had begun. How it had ended was Vaeron kissing her, and then him making a face. "You'reh notsh what I li-keh!" he had cried, and Philomel had sadly nodded. She had apologised for not being a man, but they had ended up in her cabin anyway. Another attempt from him at kissing, another declaration that she should prepare for the future ... and. Well.


    Philomel had gotten big. In more ways than one.


    After the initial four months or so, when a loose blouse could no longer hide it, Philomel had gone away 'on a mission'. At that time a man called Marmaduke had offered them some land on a Scara Brae island, near the town of Erstfort, on which to build a Gilded Lily house. A boat shed of sorts, it was planned. So Philomel had gone to oversee that, with the pretense it would take her some time. Only her secretary Gosling had accompanied her, as well as Veridian of course. They had been away for months, and though the actual project had since been abandoned in favour for the Lily Fortress, the cover had worked.


    In a small private infirmary, cast in the light of twilight, Celandine van der Aart had been born to a homosexual father and a Matriarch whore-assassin-pirate-spy mother. Now Philomel was simply just Matriarch - her own whoring days were far behind her, but it had not stopped her from taking Celandine from Erstfort to Radasanth. And there entrusted her into the Sleeping Wyrd, where the up and coming sibling couple Ennis and Etna Green were promising great things and a ginger-haired faun promised that she would have the child be rumoured as hers.


    And Vaeron had kept silent, never once sharing the secret that he and Philomel had kept together. They continued as friends, him becoming her second in command after the death of her mother. Closer and closer they had grown, learning to trust one another, until Philomel had revealed her plan to him - to bring Celandine home one day and raise her as was right. Vaeron had given his part to say, but Celandine had always been Philomel's daughter and not much his. Whatever Philomel wanted, he knew would happen, and so he had resigned himself to the fact that the little faun he gave life to, but not much of race, would one day look at him in the eyes.


    She was chewing her lip. And blinking with huge, circular eyes. They were silvery grey, very much like Philomel's, and her hair was the same tone as Lacey's - Philomel's mother.


    Vaeron raised a single brow, and stared the kid in the face. Leaning against the table in the fortress' keep's dining hall, that which was reserved for the officers, he had his arms folded. Uplit by the intense fire he would be seen as a pale ghost in her eyes. An unsmiling, shirtless human who seemed to radiate in magic.


    "Hello child," he grunted.


    Philomel rolled her eyes, unhooking her cloak from her neck, and sending shimmers across the room. "Vaeron, at least call her by her name."


    "You mean that silly, ridiculous title that you-"


    "Oh for Drys' sake," Philomel stomped over, coming into Celandine's view. "Sweetheart, though he will not admit it, this man is your father. He is a human, so you get a hell of a lot more from me and him, but this ... well. His name is Rameses Vaeron, and he is my ... my very good friend. That is all."


    Vaeron scowled. "Princess, you did not have to put it like that. You could have let the fact that - oooph."


    Looking down, he saw the small, waist-high thing hugging his legs tightly. He made a twisted face, but unwrapped his arms enough to pet the girl on the hread.


    "Hello, small faun," he said with a sigh. "I guess your mother has introduced me. Please do not call me 'dad'."

  10. #10
    Legend

    EXP: 127,650, Level: 15
    Level completed: 55%, EXP required for next Level: 7,350
    Level completed: 55%,
    EXP required for next Level: 7,350


    Philomel's Avatar

    GP
    14,025

    Name
    Philomel van der Aart (+ Veridian)
    Age
    30 (+10)
    Race
    Faun (+ Fox/Earth Spirit)
    Gender
    Female (+ Male)
    Location
    Corone

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    "Dear Shinsou, if you are alive," she wrote.


    "I have news. I have a daughter. No, I am not pregnant, but four and a half years ago now I gave birth to a young female faun. Her name is Celandine, and she is everything I ever hoped for her to be. It will surprise you, I know, for I have never mentioned her, and deliberately so. She was the idea of mine and Vaeron, so that if my legacy ever became something, which it has now, I suppose, then I would have someone to pass it onto.


    Anyway. I have decided, finally, to make her mine. She was being kept in a brothel in Radasanth, under the guise that she was another whore's daughter. But now the day has come when I have claimed her as mine, and I know the rumours will begin. Very soon word will reach to my enemies that I have a child.


    For now I have taken her to my fortress in the forest, the very same fortress which one of your men found all that time ago. Before we had the fight upon the shores of the endless staircase, before Beinost, before Amari. I have taken her there, Shinsou for the very reason that I fear that things are in motion. I have begun to hear rumours that the Crimson Hand is on the move in search of power, spreading its scarlet fingers in order to smite every enemy before they smite her. Thus, I made the decision to take Celdandine into my care, move her to the place I know she will be safe. Move her so that if I die, there will be someone to inherit everything I have worked so hard for.


    Shinsou, I beg that you are alive. For I know the Crimson Hand will be seeking my death. Lye Ulroke has grown mad in his years of being a prisoner and then a wanderer. I have made my peace with Maddison Freebird, but Ulroke will not rest, this I know. I know you have your qualms with him, for he is the one who has poisoned Amari's mind and made her ... whatever she is now. I know she was once good, I know you once loved her. And I know you hate Ulroke. Thus, it is my intention to go straight for him, to kill him before he can get to me. To my daughter, to any of us. I am not taking my army, but I can take friends. And so it is I ask this.


    I ask that you are still alive, Shinsou van Osiris, and I ask that you come with me to cut the head off the snake before it can strike. I ask that you and I did as we promised once to each other and end the life of Lye Ulroke for once and for all.


    For I know where he likely is to be found. I was once part of their world, their secrets. You want revenge, and I can help you get it.


    Please be alive, my dear friend.


    Yours, Philomel van der Aart, Matriarch of the Gilded Lily


    And PS: Vaeron is Celandine's father. Yes he still prefers people unlike myself, and yes he is human. But a child of a faun and any other race will either adopt the full genes of one or the other, it is written into our bodies."



    The letter was given to a messenger raven. A raven used only in certain times, who was the Gilded Lily's direct contact with the Brotherhood. Their only contact, to be sure, but the bird was one of such a common variety that it would not be noticed very easily. It would head straight to the Brotherhood's home, and if there was a smart man reading the seal outside, they would know it was of high importance, and for the most confident eyes only. Philomel hoped it would find Shinsou van Osiris, well and true, but if not she hoped it would find its way into the hands of his trusted ally, Storm Veritas. At least with Veritas she was likely to get a reply, telling her if Shinsou was alive and well, once and for all.


    But for the sake of her daughter's future, she hoped he was alive.

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