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Paragon

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Joined: 29 Nov 2013
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re: The Chronicles of Nova-Part 1

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Book I Aeonia

Part I: The Child

     She awoke in her bed, a cool sweat glistening over her pale skin, under the moonlight that shone in through the small window above her bed. Her breathing came heavy as she began to realize that it had all been a dream, and she was laying in her bed once again. As it was many nights for the past month, she had been plagued by nightmares, forced from sleep only to be unable to remember much beyond blood and gore. She observed the room around her until she found the worried eyes of Taral, her pet mooka, at the foot of her bed. She patted the bed beside her motioning for Taral to come to her, and he did so eager to see her better.

     Aeonia ran her fingers through Taral's feathers gently, as she pondered her nightmares. She decided to let it go, knowing that it would only serve to unsettle her. She glanced around her darkened room, at the expensive bits and bobbles, unimpressed by all her father "provided" for her. Even being of the young age of four, Aeonia was smart well beyond her years. Her father and mother both had spent fortunes on the best tutors and trainers. Like the perfect daughter she excelled well beyond any expectations set for her. Her father the accomplished warrior and noble, now retired to assist her mother in her work seeking ancient relics, and dark sciences for the emperor himself. Aeonia was the heiress to it all. She would take all the history lessons, practice the sword everyday. Put on the fancy dresses and nod to lords at parties. She would become her parents because that is what she was born for.

    A tear begins to pool along her eyelid before sliding gently down her face. "I hate it..." she says in a shaky voice, the words sounding louder than they were as they cracked the silence of the room. She hugs Taral tightly as she lays down once more. "I hate all of it....". After a few minutes her tears coax her into sleep again.

...

    As per usual, Aeonia woke to the sound of her mother's foot steps as they approached her room, but remained still, wanting to cling tightly to this place away from the cares of her parent's world. As she knew would happen, her mother entered the room not bothering to knock. "Aeonia, it's time to wake up, we have a long day ahead of us." Aeonia rose from her bed without showing disdain, knowing that fighting the coming tide of duties would be useless. She neatly made her bed and began to dress under her mother's close scrutiny. After her mother's inspection they left the room to begin her day.

    Aeonia walked silently pretending to listen with interest as her mother continued to drone on. "We have an important visitor coming tomorrow, as you well know. The hands are all about fixing the place up. You will be skipping your history lessons and stratagems lessons today, and we will be going over your proper etiquette once more before we present you to our special guest. Having already memorized her small role in this mysterious person's visit she knew today would be a long and boring one. Still her mother had not indicated that her sparring would be halted so she had something to look forward to.

    As she performed her already well practiced manners with mechanical precision she allowed her mind to wander to far off places. In between the different tasks her mother had her perform she would play with Taral. She had found the mooka abandoned and had brought it home. After some convincing it was decided she could keep it. Taral had become her only source of childhood left. In truth he was her only friend. 

   As the day drew to a close she donned her sparring gear and made her way to the practice room. "You're late." The dark chilling voice could be heard deep in the sparring room, large and strangely devoid of light. Usually the room was well lit so Aeonia found herself confused at the new development. "Mother, she wanted me to make sure I remembered my manners for tomorrow..." she answered. "I do not want to hear excuses, do not let it happen again!"her father said firmly. She made her way into the room and kneeled in the usual place in front of the sparring sword on the floor. The only light in the room was the from the door behind her, which was quickly snuffed out when the door slid to a close. She heard her father's voice, calm, but dark"Your training begins, you will not always have your sight to fight by. Should something claw out your eyes it still needs to die. Since we cannot remove your eyes for this training fighting in the dark will have to do." She tensed at his words knowing full well what he was capable of. "On your guard" he said, before his first blow landed without him making a single sound. 

     Aeonia took up a defensive stance, attempting to listen for her father's movements. Silence answered back, and then, another blow. She doubled over as the practice blade slammed into her abdomen, lifting her off her feet an inch or so. "I have to stand up.." she thought. She got to her feet readying her practice blade just in time to deflect a blow. Her victory was short lived as another blow met across her shoulders and she fell forward on the ground. She leaped to her feet in a rage and lashed out with her blade, connecting with something, most likely her father's blade. She was swiftly met with another blow to her knee, and finally the tip of the blade rested gently on her throat. She was clearly beaten many times over. "We do this again the day after tomorrow. I feel like I am getting nowhere with you." he said as the door slid open and he exited.

    She laid on the floor, fighting back tears as she tried to catch her breath. As much as she hated being made into something she did not want to be, she wanted to succeed. She felt that she was a model student in all areas, except the sword. Each day, her father left disappointed in her. Each time she rose to his challenge another stood in her path, and each time he left feeling she would never improve to become the warrior he was. She brought herself to her feet, and made her way to her room, changing out of her sparring clothes and collapsing on her bed, face down. She felt a familiar beak pushing against her neck, and she reached up to run her fingers through the fur and feathers of Taral. She allowed her tears to flow now as she held her dear friend close to her. "I hate it all Taral...". When sleep called, she let it take her. She had to meet an important guest tomorrow.

...

    She awoke the same as usual the next morning, or almost. The only change was the bustle from all the assistants making sure everything was perfect. After the morning meal, her father's men lined up just a way from the landing pad. She stood next to her mother, who had dressed Aeonia in a fine red dress. Her pale skin shone in the light of the two suns of her home world, and her bright blue eyes were actually alight with eagerness to see this person who called for such ceremony. The ship which landed was armed with guns, a gunmetal gray, large and intimidating. Guard after guard exited the ship in rank and file lining up to guard their master's decent from the ramp. The man stepped from the ship, dressed head to toe in black robes, and yet the man under the hood bore no distinguishable features. Aeonia let her gaze find her father's, whose was locked on the dark man, a look of slight disappointment barely visible on his face.

    As the man stopped in front of them, her father bowed low, "My lord forgive me, I thought...." he said before the dark man raised a hand to stop his words. The man looked around before answering"This is my Voice, it will have to suffice." Aeonia's father bowed his head"Of course." Aeonia stood star struck, unable to comprehend what it was that made her father bow so low. Two months she had practiced etiquette. Two months of making sure to only speak when spoken too. Two months of preparing...and it all went out the window, when she found herself saying allowed in her soft young voice,"...isn't what I thought he'd be...". Both her parent's and the man turned to stare at her, a look of rage embedded in her father's face.

    Her father began to speak, but again the man's hand came up to halt him, as he approached young Aeonia. "And who are you, hmm? You do not seem all that impressive either." She hesitated, but knew that she was already past the point of no return and answered unafraid "My name is Aeonia Adasan." The man stared looking her up and down, and Aeonia began to feel his importance. After what felt like forever she felt she might shatter under the pressure and finally he walked back to her father without saying a word more to her. "You will tell me everything you have found on the ritual. I have little time and will be leaving by the days end." 

...

    That night she was scolded for hours. Her father's rage knew no bounds, and her mother's disappointment felt equal to that. It was made clear that she would be punished for her mistake the next day. She was to go to sleep and await punishment in the morning. She could not know that punishment would not be at the hand of her parents. She could not know what was coming. 

...The Harrowing

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