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osckins · 9 months ago

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⤷❝ A Knight's Tale — Prologue ❞ˎˊ-

summary: King Aldric II of Solarnelle and Queen Elara’s wedding was the grandest celebration in the kingdom, with festivities that included the ringing of church bells and a kingdom-wide feast. Their three children—Prince Alastor, Princess Sunniva, and Princess Arabella—were well-known throughout the land, each facing the pressure of high expectations. Over time, Princess Sunniva, overshadowed by her siblings, quietly slipped away from royal life, finding solace in helping an elderly shopkeeper and eventually mourning her loss, all while remaining unnoticed by the kingdom until a fateful encounter with a knight.

warnings: middle child, sibling angst, vulgar / harsh language.

author's note: This is my own original work, story and all. This is also not finished, and I am unsure of when I'll finish it. :)

The ton’s greatest celebration was that of the wedding ceremony of His Majesty, King Aldric II, King of Solarnelle, and of Her Majesty, the now Queen of Solarnelle, Queen Elara of the Ashborne Family. Church bells rang for hours, as the news of the newlyweds was met with great celebration from the ton. Champagne flowed freely through the sumptuous castle that the royal family called home, and the entire Kingdom of Solarnelle quit work for a mere day to partake of the feast and holiday ordered by the former king, King Leopold. His Majesty was blessed with 3 additions to their family soon after.

Met with as great of celebration like His Majesty’s wedding day, the names of the three children were known throughout the land.

From oldest to youngest, Prince Alastor, Princess Sunniva, and Princess Arabella, these three would be constantly showered with praise yet constant ridicule from such high expectations at such a young age. As to be a royal, you must meet every expectation of you to perfection. For Sunniva Ashbourne Elarion, she would not spend her life as the Princess of Solarnelle. That was a mere courtesy title. Sunniva Ashbourne Elarion, overshadowed by the substantial accomplishments of her older brother, and forgotten for her younger sister’s astounding refinement and grace, she was quite the odd one out of her siblings, the town mostly focusing on her brother or sister over her.

As she walked the great halls of the royal family’s lodgings, hands fidgeting with one another as she walked by the many, many guards and knights who’d slit their own throats at just a simple moment’s notice from her, her thoughts grew anxious as she neared the castle’s gateway. Hiding behind one of the palace’s pillars, she slipped on her hooded cloak, and left the palace, assumingly, without a bat of an eye.

Princess Sunniva, God bless her, knew she, under no circumstances, would ever be given a chance at the throne, and took to her own likings to occupy her time. Rather than her siblings, who strived for the attention and perfection from the ton, His Majesty was overjoyed at 2 possible successors.

Five months later, Princess Sunniva, born from the Ashborne Family into the great Elarion royal bloodline, was forgotten from the ton, as they only acknowledged her siblings, Prince Alastor and Princess Arabella. Her presence unnoticed at many, and any, grand ceremonies. This did not displease Princess Sunniva in the slightest— in fact, it brought her great peace. Princess Sunniva had become a wallflower. The princess was no longer confined to palace grounds the moment she “left” society. She visited a herb stall every day from the moment she snuck out from the palace walls 7 months ago, as the shopkeeper there had caught her eye.

The shopkeeper, they said gently, was too old to keep up with the demands all by herself. Princess Sunniva would take the opportunity, granted to her every sunrise, to help this woman as long as she lived. This routine of hers, remained that way for 7 months consecutively.

And then finally, the shopkeeper, one day, did not appear before the princess. In her place, and to her dismay, a letter and a notebook stood before the young woman. Shaky hands reached out and lifted the letter from its confinements.

Dearest Princess Sunniva,

I am afraid to say I cannot be graced with your presence any longer. As

My Lady knows, I have been experiencing pains every sunrise to sundown. Herbs

have ailed with dealing with such an inconvenience, but I can no longer bear the

unbearing agony, no more than till the end of this lunar cycle. If you have received

this letter, please know all is well, and I am now at peace. Please overtake our shop,

everything I have taught you and more is written within the ledger to your right.

Please take care, Your Grace.

Yours truly,

Grandma'am.

Princess Sunniva, had leaned forward, her weight held up by the jagged makeshift desk. She clutched the letter and ledger to her chest as she mourned the sweet old shopkeeper, whom she once saw as family. The slight chill of the early September air only embraced the child in a cold embrace, as in slow motion, she slipped into unconsciousness. Right before hitting the floor with a thud, two arms adorned with the distinguished attire of that of a knight, laid hold of her. Towheaded tresses tickling her pale skin.

“Please rest easy, Your Grace,” a gentle discerning voice rang in the princess’s ears, as she finally slipped away. “I’ve got you.”

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

Warmed sunlit beams graced the princess’s skin, birds chirping their morning tune, indicating the work day has begun. The princess stirred awake, her eyes slowly fluttering open as she glanced at the room surrounding her. Soon realizing she was not in her bed chambers, the ones whom she had grown quite fond of, she jerked up, wide awake, not before hitting her head on the dark deep stoned tiled roof, gaining a twinge on her head in the process. She was panicked, her whole body tense as her ears soon picked up the sound of footsteps approaching her.

Grabbing whatever was closest to her at the time, which so happened to be a blade, she quickly wielded it to her defense.

There wasn’t much she could do with the blade, she had no experience in swordsmanship unlike her brother, as of course it was mainly a sport for men, and reserved privileges for knights of any sex. Princess Sunniva was too absorbed in plants and books to care for lectures of responsibilities and what a princess must be like, it’s not like her parents paid any mind to her reluctance in the first place.

The princess often heard of the substantial amount of accomplishments that her older brother, Prince Alastor, had achieved. From being the best swordsman this kingdom has known to date, to leading and planning out intricate battles against rival kingdoms at such a young age, he was surely to succeed the throne, no doubt about it.

And her younger sister, Princess Arabella, the ton would never let up her hypnotic and enchanting elegance. She was the perfected definition of a princess to a tee. To her natural, soft and feminine like features, to the way she carried herself through a conversation and a room, she caught most of the young suitors’ eyes when she first stepped out into society. She was everything Princess Sunniva was not.

As Princess Arabella and Prince Alastor loved the limelight, Princess Sunniva preferred to stay in the shadows, unnoticed and never glanced at twice. The moment she stepped out into society, she immediately tried her best to leave it. She preferred it that way, and she wouldn’t change a thing.

A voice soon snapped her from her thoughts, back to reality.

“My Lady, it is a relief to see you up and healthy,” the voice belonged to none other than that of Eira Beaumont.

Eira Beaumont was a Class I ranking knight, this can be told by the insignia adorning their attire. An insignia, an enameled badge on a ribbon, is typically worn from a sash in the case of senior ranks, around the neck for middle ranks, and on the left chest for the lower grades. Many orders and kingdoms use the insignia in the form of a cross, but may also take the form of stars.

Eira adorned a Daystar insignia, indicating her rank and role within the kingdom, signifying her role as a personal guard for a royal, yet her ash-blond tresses covered up most of the insignia.

Princess Sunniva was bestowed upon a personal guard the moment she turned 11, that guard being Eira, who was 12 at the time, indicating that the two have grown together. They’d been friends in an oddly distant sort of way, neither of them expected anything more from one another, and in that regard, left them as an inseparable duo.

“Eira! You’ve nearly brought me to an end with how petrified I was.”

Eira took a knee, taking a small curtsy towards the princess, never looking up at the princess’s face directly.

“My deepest regards, My Lady, for I did not mean to startle you. I was merely checking up on you after I heard quite a thud, and was worried for your safety,” amber-coloured eyes met Princess Sunniva’s fuchsin iris’s.

In the royal family, mauvish-crimson and fuchsin colored eyes were prominent in their bloodline, with the current monarch always having what’s known as “eyes of Sol,” the name created by the townspeople long ago. This meant that the pupils of the current monarch take a sun-like shape, and tend to glow, complimenting their already unique iris color. This unfortunately means that any current monarch of the Elarion Family is an enormous target for their eyes. Their eyes go for quite a substantial amount of seven figures on the market, which leads to frequent assassination attempts on the monarch.

With Eira’s knee still bent, she gently laid her right hand on her own heart, eyes still fixated on Princess Sunniva’s eyes, “please forgive me, Your Grace.”

“Of course, all is well Eira, you were merely doing your sworn duty.”

“Please, let me assist you this morning, Your Grace,” Eira stood up from the ground, moving to the side, offering the way, and her hand. “I have already gotten your morning meal ready downstairs awaiting your arrival, My Lady.”

Princess Sunniva takes her hand as Eira guides her through the unfamiliar yet comforting premise.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

The building, which she now knows is the kingdom’s tavern, was filled with the aroma one would situate to break fast.

“So…” the princess said hesitantly, “how has work been for you Eira? I do hope His Royal Highness hasn’t been overworking you again.”

Eira made a mental note of the lack of the use of, “father,” when referring to His Majesty.

“You should know this by now, My Lady,” Eira paused. “There is no such thing as ‘overworking’ to me. I enjoy what I do, and take great pride in it, Your Grace.”

“Yet, there is no such thing as not being able to overwork someone Eira,” the princess picked up a slice of bread before spreading butter on it. “You are not invincible. You are human after all, you need rest. I do not understand why you mustn't take my advice. You could be doing far better things with the time granted to you, like music. Do not think that I have not taken note of your passions.”

“So do you m’lady,” —quickly looking up from her meal to meet the princess’s gaze once again, quickly ending, as Princess Sunniva focused on her meal— “You are the one who does not heed my warnings, Your Grace! Every morning before you leave for town, I remind you of the dangers beyond the walls. Now look what has happened!” Eira exclaimed. “What if I was not the one to find you? What if I was out on an assignment! What would have happened to you then, Your Grace?”

Sunniva whipped her head up to face her, her lower lip quivering, standing up from her seat immediately. “You knew she was old! She needed assistance, yet no one offered her help! Every rise of the sun, I went, every moment the sun hid behind the mountains, I left! No one for 7 months offered to help her, Eira! I was the only one able to give her some sort of comfort in her last moments!” Princess Sunniva roared.

Thankfully, taverns aren’t that busy in the morning, only one or two people, not including the tavern keeper, were alarmed by the breakout of Princess Sunniva and her royal guard.

“My lady— Princess— Where are you going!?” Eira exclaimed, getting up from her seat, alarmed at the sudden actions of Princess Sunniva.

“I am going out for some fresh air. You are to stay here until I return. That’s an order.” Sunniva muttered, just loud enough for Eira to hear.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

Shutting the tavern door behind her, she was met with the scent of grass adorned with morning dew, cattle and horses alike, moving through the waking town. The princess was not thinking rationally, she did not stop to think about where she would go, and insisted to herself to just keep going forward. As people started leaving their homes to start their day of work, the streets grew unyielding to anyone passing through.

As the princess, who was shielded of her identity due to her coverings, she pushed through the crowd recklessly. She failed to recognize the figure ahead, causing the young princess to pummel into the figure with such force, knocking her straight onto her bottom. The figure, unmoving, took notice of the young lady behind them.

“Hey— Watch where you’re going—” their voice hitched. The princess’s cloak had fallen, revealing the identity of young Princess Sunniva. The princess raised, facing up at the person before her. Unlike her, their viridescent cloak still remained, covering their identity. The figure, to her, was quite tall in comparison to most individuals she had met. They were dressed in the attire, assumingly, that of a palace guard, cerulean iris meeting hers as they slowly cast off their hood.

“Pardon me, my lady,” the gent gruffed. A hand reaching out to help out the fallen princess. “For I did not know I was in the presence of Her Royal Highness.”

The princess paused, before taking the man’s hand before her. Now upright, she wanted to speak, opening her mouth yet no words rolled off her tongue. A sly smile appeared on the man before her.

“Forgive myself, how ill-mannered of me to not introduce myself,” he stooped, bending a knee, his back straightened, his head lowered, his right hand lay resting on his heart. “My name is Eclion. Eclion D’Argonne from the Beauvau-Craon Family. Pleased to be of service, My Lady.”

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

Knight Eira proved true to her word. While the princess removed herself to take a fresh breath of air, Knight Eira stayed at the tavern, awaiting the princess’s return. Every waking minute that passed by felt like an eternity, free will was very much a thing, and Knight Eira, the First Class Commander, was very tempted to exert that will. Yet, an order was an order, especially when that order comes directly from that of Princess Sunniva. She herself does not commonly command anyone, even with status of a wallflower among the ton, it does not mean that she does not still have rule over the lower class.

Time passed slowly, by the time the clock ticked six, Knight Eira was displeased beyond endurance. Just before opening the tavern door, it swung open within seconds, finding herself staring back at the princess’s face before her.

“Princess— I was just about to head out for you,” Eira immediately took a knee as swiftly as she could. “I shall rest easy, now knowing you are unharmed, My Lady.”

“You need not to worry as often, Eira.”

“Pardon me— My Lady?” Eira uttered. “For I do not understand what your words mean,” Eira was immediately bewildered at the princess’s statement, and rose to her feet.

“Ahem.”

A tall figure emerged from behind Princess Sunniva, golden kinked tresses framed the cerulean irises that gleamed from the tavern’s warm light, just how the sun reflects onto an ice frosted lake.

“My deepest regards Princess Sunniva, but I must retire for the night. I have much work to attend to once the sun breaks from dawn.”

Princess Sunniva turned to face the tall brunette.

“It is far too late for you to head all your way to the palace Eclion! Please, rest with me and Eira for the night,” the princess said, unaware of the growing restlessness residing behind her.

“M-my Lady—” clearing her throat. “Princess Sunniva,” Eira spoke, bitterness and a slight authoritative tone evident in her voice. “May I speak with you,” she paused, looking back at Eclion, her eyes narrowed. “Your Grace, alone?”

“Very well, then. Eclion, please, await here,” a smile evident towards the knight. “It will only be a moment.”

The moment they were a meaningful distance away from the knight, Eira spoke.

“I do not trust whomever was before you just now, your grace.”

“What— Eira? Whatever are you on about,” she intoned, her confusion evident across her face.

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osckins · 9 months ago

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⤷❝ Life is Strange — CaElla ❞ˎˊ-

Caden x Viella

summary: "Just take it." Caden and Viella's first interaction with one another is... memorable to say the least.

warnings: "I know who you pretend I am," caden being a confused cutie, viella being an absolute queen, remininscence from previous games, & blood.

author's note: this is unfinished, will work to finish this whenever I have the time! <3

The arena for the 75th Hunger Games' Quarter Quell was a very complex and intricate arena. Caden's heartbeat was racing as he ran through the section of the arena he was in, poison fog following close behind. His breathing ragged, pressing down on the side of his stomach that had been gushing blood, a deep laceration from a fight with another tribute a couple seconds beforehand.

Shit.

His head was spinning, the combination of blood loss and the lack of oxygen he was recieving worsened his condition. His face was littered with cuts, his usual poised appearance replaced with a ragged state. Yet, Caden couldn't help but enjoy himself — mentally scolding himself for enjoying such a horrific event. The adrenaline rush he was getting felt divine — all at the cost of potentially losing everything.

As Caden ran through the humid, dense, and rough terrain of the jungle-like forest, his eyes caught the split second of blonde hair rushing through the wind. Immediately hiding behind a tree, he stilled his movements, catching his breath.

The fog met a "barrier" of sorts, Caden had barely made it out. As Caden focused on his breathing, he glances over to where he last saw the blonde hair from earlier.

It's.. A girl?

The girl was on all fours, gasping for air. Blisters from the poison fog was evident on her skin, she crawled over to the small patch of water, dipping her hand in. She cried in pain, yet slowly into relief as the blisters soon disappeared from her hand.

Caden quietly observed her from where he was, leaning back onto the tree as he slowly slumped down.

The girl had quickly submerged her whole body in the water, crying in agony. Caden grimaced as he watched her do this until the blisters soon disappeared from her body, leaving her breathless.

Slowly Caden got up from where he was resting, grimacing as his laceration was still pooling into his attire, staining it a dark red. A deep groan escaped his lips involuntarily, he instantly froze in place. The girl immediately snapping her attention to him.

Neither of them dared to move. Whether it was from the writhing pain they were going through or out of fear, no one will know.

The girl infront of him was none other than Viella Omen, winner of the 72nd Hunger Games. She was from District 7. Caden had watched her games, winning 5 years prior in the 67th Hunger Games.

Caden took the opportunity to take in her features. Short blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, warm amber honey colored eyes meeting his soft pale blues. A large burn scar covering the majority of the right side of her pale face.

"What do you want?"

An irritated voice broke Caden out of his trance. For once in his life, he was unsure of what to say, choosing to stay quiet.

The girl's eyes flickered to Caden's wound, eyes slightly widening.

"You're injured."

The girl weirdly reminded him from someone he knew. The girl trugged over, handing him some bandages. His eyes widened at the gesture.

"Just take them, you need them more."

He could've sworn it was like he was thrown back in the 67th Hunger Games. The girl infront of him was no longer Viella, but his district girl whom had gotten reaped with him. Unlike Caden, the girl did not willingly volunteer for the games. Dark long brown hair flowing in the wind, a scent of tea faintly in the air, a distant memory, fuzzy and light.

His heart ached at the thought. He couldn't even remember her name.

I wonder what happened to her.

He was snapped back into reality as Viella had grabbed his wrist, putting the bandages in his hands, his eyes widening.

"No— It's uh.. It's fine—" He tried shoving the bandages back into her calloused hands.

"Just take it Caden, seriously," she put the bandages back in his hands, clasping his hands together over the cloth.

He stayed quiet, observing her. Viella cocked her head to the side, raising a brow.

"Sorry— Just, intruiged on why you decided to help me missy."

"Don't call me missy," Viella's hand that was wielding an axe quickly flew up, the axe barely pricking into Caden's skin below his chin. His hand went up lightly in defense.

"Alright, alright, if that's what you want," a smug smile reflected off of Caden, an eyebrow slightly raised.

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