stellafortunalogs | memshare catchall

item: piece of torn silk

(You pull back your curtain just barely and listen to the night guards outside your window gossip about how annoying it is to have extra duties because you’re back home.

You fail to notice the shadow moving from under your bed, slithering in the moonlight towards you until it’s almost too late. You spin around and notice the black shadow rise from the ground, it’s diamond shaped head flaring into a wide hood. You find yourself staring into its red eyes and you grip the curtain tightly. You know better than to make any sudden movements. You know what will happen. The viper will strike and you’ll fight for your life while your blood burns and your heart races and you’ll die in some anonymous guard’s arms before they can even summon a healer at this hour. You aren't even thirteen.

You refuse. You refuse. You refuse. You absolutely refuse to die.

The viper watches you, leveling its eyes with you and lets out a hiss. You pull at the curtain, pulling it from it’s rod and bringing everything tumbling in front of you. )

Edited 2021-03-01 07:44 (UTC)

item: vial of colorless liquid

(The nurse hurriedly shoves a cup to your lips, raising your head up so you have no choice but to swallow. A mix of salt, water, and something bitter makes you sputter and retch into a bowl held in front of you by another nurse.

“We need a healer!” A nurse yells frantically, trying to get you to drink more so you can expel whatever poison you’ve ingested, “Tell them it’s poison!”

“Do we know what kind?” One medic asks desperately, going through vials and powders in a box, trying to find the antidote to cure you.

“No.” The nurse replies, “It was in something he ate. The guards are looking now.”

Meanwhile, your body burns and your heart races. They place cool towels on your body and you toss them off of you. Why does it feel like there are needles on your skin? Like there are needles under your skin? The pain is so blinding, you can hardly tell which it is anymore and you twist as the medics try to restrain you. Despite the pain and discomfort, you never cry. One nurse notices and pries your jaw open, sticking a towel between your teeth to keep you from biting through your tongue.

A healer finally arrives, carrying a crescent moon staff for purification and sets to work. A calming light comes from the staff and you can feel the pain dull and your body cool. For the first time in what feels like forever, you can take a real breath of air. You lay back in your pillow and try to catch your breath. Your head still feels filled with cotton after the rush from the poison clears.

“Will he survive?” A woman asks from the doorway and you turn your head to see her. The nurse replies in the affirmative and says that you'll still need to rest.

You note how disappointed the woman appears.)

Edited 2021-03-01 07:32 (UTC)

item: deer pin

(“Mother…” You mumble, your cheeks growing warm as she reaches out to fuss at the clasp on your cloak.

“I know,” She muses as she moves to push the hair out of your face. She looks at you fondly, in that proud way only a mother can look. “But it’s been so long since you’ve been home..” She teases and pinches at your cheek. You brush her hand away.

Some of the men laugh, the women behind her giggle, and you sigh that frustrated sigh all children reserve for their parents. It’s not your fault you haven’t visited. After all, they were the ones who sent you away to train with the other boys your age.

“Relax, Tiana,” A man teases from atop his horse. Among everyone present, he is probably the grandest of them all, dressed in extravagant robes and a fine cloak. If this is how he dresses for a simple hunting trip, one has to wonder how he might dress if he was in the court. There’s an air to him that seems larger than life itself and if one had to describe him, it would be like the sun-- bright, radiant, and warm but also dangerous, like if one got too close or tried him, he would burn everything in his path. “It’s a leisurely hunt.” Nothing competitive, nothing dangerous.

She gives him an exasperated look.

“I’ve heard the young prince is quite the accomplished rider,” A weasel faced man muses. Though he compliments you, there’s something sickening about how sweetly he speaks, like his words are empty or ironic in some sort of way.

“Just like his old man,” The grand man exclaims proudly, “Hurry up, we’ll have to make good time if we want to get to the grounds.”

You get onto your horse and you can feel your mother’s eyes watch your back. You’ve always been sensitive to this feeling. You’re always aware of how people watch you.

“What are you hunting anyway?” Your mother asks casually.

“Only deer,” The weasel faced man assures and you note the way some of the men smile to themselves in the group, as if enjoying some quiet, private joke amongst themselves.

The gold deer pin on your cloak feels like a target on your chest.)

item: a dagger

(Your brother and his friends pull you into an alleyway, away from the evening light and throw you against the wall. Your brother insults you and you snap back at him because as usual, he has no idea what he’s talking about. Your brother begins to say something about your mother. You punch him before he can finish.

Another boy punches you in the face and your hand instinctively reaches to hold your mouth. You can taste blood from your lip and you decide there’s no point in talking anymore. There never is. They never listen. It’s the same thing every time and you know if you don’t fight back now, they’ll just get a head start on you.

The two of you roll around on the ground, exchanging punches and kicks, pulling hair and cursing each other. Your brother suddenly draws a knife and his friends back off, holding their hands in the air, “H-hey…” One tries to mediate, “He’s still…”

“He’s not my brother!” Your brother spits, trying to bring his hunter’s knife at you. You manage to stop it but at the cost of grabbing the blade with your hand. You wince as the blade cuts into your palm and fingers but you don’t dare let go. If you do, that knife will end up in your stomach and you’ll be left in the alley.. Even if your brother was caught, he wouldn’t get in trouble. You know this. Such is the privilege of being your father’s sons.

“Let go!” Your brother yells and when you yell back, a flash of light appears in front of you. In the air, a crescent moon shines and startles the others in the alleyway including your brother who suddenly drops his knife and backs away.

“What was that?” One of the boys whisper and they begin to question if it was magic. One yells that he didn’t come to pick a fight with a mage and they run away and leave you behind. You let go of the knife and look down at your hand. Though your hand is covered in blood, there’s not a single cut or scratch. You raise a hand to your lip and feel the cut on your lip is also healed. You can still taste the iron on your tongue.

What was that? You wonder, looking around you. The light is gone and the sun had begun to set on the city. Had that light... Healed you? Had that power come from you…? As you focus on your hand, a crescent moon appears and you jump back from surprise. The light disappears.

You clench your fist. Though you don’t understand this power, you know it’s yours. )

Edited 2021-03-01 07:48 (UTC)

item: backgammon set

(You look at the papers that will guarantee your passage across the border. You unfold it to look over the information and raise a brow, “Claude Guiderius?”

“It’s just a fake name,” The man replies shortly, “We can’t exactly go about calling you Riegan just yet.”

“Claude Guiderius?”

“Claude’s a common name.”

“I know that but Gui--”

“We’re going now.”

You make your way down the path, towards the great wall ahead. You’ve read about it in books, studied about it in your classes, and have seen it from afar during your training but this is the closest you’ve ever been. Your handler signals to the guard at the top of the wall to let you in and your little group enters the fortress.

You stick close to your handler, or rather, your handler keeps you close. You show your papers to the guard who looks you up and down carefully. Your handler shows off his goods-- tea, spices, silk, and other goods procured from Almyran traders. Of course, you know these things aren’t for sale. At least, not all of them. A significant portion belong to you-- a last gift from your parents so you don’t miss home too much.

“What’s this?” A guard asks, turning over the black and white stones of a board game.

“A strategy game,” You explain, covering for your ignorant handler, “They use it to practice--”

“I didn’t know Almyrans studied strategy,” The guard observes and before you can so much as raise a brow he continues, “I never knew a beast to bother with thinking.”

Another guard laughs, “Right! Those Almyrans are only good for attacking like the wild dogs they are. They’re all bark these days… Guess they finally learned not to mess with Holst.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and your ears ring and yet… you aren’t surprised. This feeling isn’t a surprise. No. Disappointment settles on you like a heavy blanket and like a piece from one of your puzzles, something falls into place in your mind. You suddenly feel aware of the stone walls around you and this grand fortress seems ugly and dark.

When you cross the border into a new land, you look at it with disappointed eyes. The country and people might be different but your situation is exactly the same.)

item: alliance banner

(Sunlight fills a grand chamber and people begin to fill in, gathering for some sort of ceremony. On the walls, tapestries lined in gold with images of deer and a certain emblem.

The people wear their best clothes-- only the finest silks and latest designs for the event at hand. The women wear their best jewels and the men wear all of their outstanding medals. It's a formal affair and it's clear that every person in this chamber possesses some status in society. As they filter in, some of their conversations can be heard.

"I didn't know the Duke had a grandson."

"Neither did I. Sir Godfrey didn't have any children so it must be Lady Tiana's...?"

"Impossible. She disappeared. No one's heard from her in nearly two decades."

"So where on earth did they find this boy?"

"Perhaps from another branch of the family?"

"No way! The Riegans produce dukes and duchesses that lead the whole alliance! Any child born with a Crest would be accepted immediately into the main family but no one knew this boy even existed until last year."

There's a trumpet, heralding the beginning of a ceremony and from a pair of grand doors and you finally arrive, pacing yourself perfectly as you walk down the carpet towards the altar at the front of the hall. (Persephone might notice that Claude is only a year or two younger than she knows him as.) As you walk--

"Honestly, I would have preferred the Count over some strange boy..."

"Does he even have a Crest? I haven't heard anything about him having one!"

You hold your head up high, eyes facing straight ahead as you approach an elderly man who looks down at you, regarding him with warm but serious eyes that match your own.

You repeat the words you’ve been told to. You announce yourself. You introduce himself. You proclaim yourself to be Claude von Riegan, the grandson of Duke Oswald von Riegan. The descendent of the Elite Hero, Riegan and when the old duke calls on you to prove yourself...

The hall goes completely silent. This is the moment they've been waiting for, the moment that would confirm everything once and for all. You turn towards the rest of the hall and hold out your hand. A golden light appears from your palm and in the air a crescent moon appears.

No one can doubt you now.)

item: leather line (broken)

(You’re thirteen; almost fourteen. It’s another day of training and this time, you’re put on top of a wyvern for the first time by yourself. Your teacher reaches up to check the harness and make sure you’re properly saddled in. He checks to make sure the leather cord around your waist is tied and asks you how you feel.

You’re fine, really, and it’s the most excited you’ve been all year. You’ve been waiting for this day for almost as long as you can remember. Learning to ride a wyvern is a rite of passage and though you’re still young, you’ve managed to sneak in some lessons. As insignificant as you might be, being your father’s son has some perks.

You start off easy at first, learning to take off and land and then you move on to hovering low over the ground. The wyvern you’ve been assigned is an older one with a mild personality, the type that is perfect for beginners. As the lesson begins to draw to an end, your teacher instructs you to fly higher. Not too high, he warns you, but just enough to get a real taste of the air.

You mimic the way you’ve seen your teacher and the other soldiers guide their wyvern and smile as you start to reach a higher altitude. Everything is well until you hear something cutting through the air and an arrow strikes your wyvern in the side. It lets out a shriek and kicks off higher into the air. You yelp as you try to bring it back down.

A second arrow zips by, just barely missing you but by now, you’ve lost control of your wyvern. It takes off higher into the air and then begins to thrash. You hear your teacher yelling for the guards to find out who shot at you and he yells at you to hold on and try to regain control.

But you can’t and before you know it, the wyvern throws you off. The line meant to keep you safe snaps at your waist and you crash to the ground.)

item: silver gauntlets

(Your mother brushes your hair back from your face and frowns.

You nurse a sprained ankle, bruised ribs, and a bandage wrapped around your head after your latest “training accident.” Without warning, your wyvern had suddenly thrown you off and the safety line snapped. You don’t really remember much of what happened after you fell but you know it had been serious enough to send you back home for rest and healing.

“Nader…” Your mother says, her voice low.

“Tiana…” Your teacher replies nervously, holding up his hands and taking two steps back.

Your mother lunges at your teacher and grabs him by the collar. She might be smaller than him but she yanks him down to her height and gives him a shake. She punches him, striking him with a surprising amount of force, “You were supposed to keep an eye on him!”

“I did! I was!”

“Not well enough, apparently!” She roars and launches another punch at him.

“Tiana!” He yelps, “Stop! Yeowch! Not the beard!” He pulls away from her and tries to defend himself but she breaks through, kicking him in the shin and punching him again in the face.

“He’s too young to ride a wyvern!” She shrieks.

You’ve seen your mother angry before but never like this. You knew she was a warrior. You’ve heard she’s a skilled archer and you always suspected that heavy, silver sword in her drawing-room was more than just for show. Never in your life would you have imagined your mother to be a brawler though. You watch as she manages to bring your teacher, the Undefeated General, onto the ground. She pummels him relentlessly.

You take three steps back towards the door and begin to make your retreat. Nothing can save your teacher now.)

Rose, (cw: attempted murder, off screen animal death)

Ochako, (cw: attempted murder, light emeto)

Lutha,

Jun, (cw: bullying, violence)

seonho, (cw: racism)

persephone,

kashuu, (cw: animal injury, attempted murder)

felix, (cw: attempted murder mention, some violence)