#mystreetia

[razzle-zazzle]

A Perfect Day - Mystreetia Part 1 Chapter 1

1293 Words

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It was a perfect day for a walk.

The sun was shining, not a cloud in sight, and a refreshing breeze wove its way through the alleyways and roads of Solaria, just enough to cool the bustling plaza without scattering merchants’ wares to the wind. Like a brilliant shining jewel atop a dragon’s hoard, the royal castle of Phoenix Drop shimmered in the light cast upon it as it towered over the horizon. Walls and towers of gleaming amethyst and quartz stood watch over the bustling city below, their majesty and grandeur reminding the citizens of the glory of the kingdom of Phoenix Drop, small as it was.

However, while its outside appearance spoke of riches and beauty, the goings on inside crafted a different story. For within one of these ivory towers, the queen and her daughter were causing quite the ruckus, while the Court Alchemist and Head Scribe watched on, unfazed. Normally, the Scribe would be recording the interactions of the royal family for future generations, but it was determined that this argument—which was quickly becoming all-too common of an occurrence—was not exceptionally noteworthy.

“Young Lady, if I catch you attempting to sneak out again this kingdom will need a new heir!” The Alchemist nonchalantly dodged the chair that was thrown, while the small group of servants present in the room scrambled to catch the high-speed furniture before it could shatter against the walls.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so overbearing I wouldn’t feel the need to leave every now and again! It’s always so boring here!” The Princess stamped her foot indignantly, her tiara lying discarded on the floor where she had tossed it. She was still so much like a child, her face contorted into a pout as she ranted and raved about how suffocating her life was, occasionally tossing some trinket or another from her nightstand at her mother, who replied in turn while lecturing her daughter about the responsibility of a royal heir. The room was beginning to look like a warzone, and it was all the servants could do to keep things in one piece while their superiors raged.

“I mean, I can’t even trust you to go out on your own—you couldn’t even remember your way to the banquet hall yesterday!”

“We never use the banquet hall! Of course I couldn’t find it!”

“You get lost going down a one-way street! You’re not capable—”

“Because you never let me try—”

“And if I can’t trust you not to get in trouble within your own home, how can I know you’d be safe going out?”

“YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING!”

“BECAUSE YOU NEVER WANT TO DO WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO! You don’t pay attention to your lessons, you run off at a moment’s notice, you’ve chased off more than half of your tutors, and if any of the staff take their eyes off of you for even a moment, you’re trying to sneak outside the walls!” The Queen punctuated her argument by straightening her crown and fixing her hair, before she continued. “Aphmau, sweetie, you need to understand. You are the only heir this tiny kingdom has, and—”

“The only heir this kingdom will ever have, because Dad isn’t around anymore.” Aphmau joined in, having heard the speech before. “I know that. But it gets so stifling here sometimes. I’ve never even—”

“Been outside the castle walls. I know.” Sylvanna’s expression softened, and she pursed her lips before continuing. “But you’re still so young, and if anything were to happen to you…” Sighing, Sylvanna schooled her expression. “You are to return to your studies until further notice. We can go on a walk later.” And with that, she left the room, the servants hurrying after her.

The Alchemist turned to glance at the sulking princess one last time, before turning to follow the Queen. With any luck, the princess would return to her studies after sulking for a few hours, and things would once again return to the usual quiet.

Aphmau watched as her mother left, trying not to cry. Wiping away her tears, she reached down and grabbed her tiara; she moved to place it in its usual perch, but thought better of it.

With a sinister grin, Aphmau moved to grab her traveling cloak from the closet, as well as some of her less extravagant clothes. If she waited for her mother to finish holding court, then it’d be dark by the time they were ready for a walk. Which meant one thing.

Aphmau would have to take matters into her own hands.

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“Your Majesty, if I may?” The Alchemist entered the room slowly, respectfully. Sylvanna looked up from her paperwork as one of her closest friends and advisor stepped in the room.

“You needn’t be so formal with me, Terry. We’re friends.” Terrance raised an eyebrow at the remark, and Sylvanna countered his expression with one of her own.

“Of course. Well, you see, I came to tell you that perhaps you need to loosen the boundaries you have set on your daughter.”

“Oh?” The Queen asked, in a tone that implied she would not like to be having this conversation. But Terrance pushed on.

“Now, I understand why you’d have trouble letting go. Believe me, I feel the same about my son. But you have to realize that Aphmau’s not a little girl anymore, and that at this age it’s only natural for her to be curious about her kingdom.”

“It’s not just that.” Sylvanna interjected. “She gets in so much trouble, and she never knows how to handle herself.”

“Yes, because she’s never gotten the chance to even try. You have to let her grow on her own, Sylvanna. At least let her meet other children. She’s going to go crazy if she stays locked up in this castle. Travis and Lucinda are much the same way. All children are.”

“I… I suppose I have been a little overbearing. I… yes. I will organize a meeting between Aphmau and your son. Tomorrow. Your son does have free time tomorrow, right? Hyria won’t be keeping him long?”

Terrance nodded, answering her query. “Yes, I believe Travis will be free tomorrow. But even if he wasn’t, you still have the final say.”

Sylvanna nodded, suddenly looking as old as she was. “Yes, that’s… that’s good. I’ll send one of the staff to let Hyria know. You can go on your way now, Terry.” She waved her hand, looking back down at the documents she had been reading as Terrance left, a soft smile on his face.

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Okay, so maybe leaving the castle to explore the town unsupervised was a mistake.

Aphmau was beginning to regret her split-second decision after being pushed aside by some rushing passerby for the fifth time; this one was a dark-haired boy who gave her a dirty look when he bumped into her. “Watch it.” He muttered, before continuing on. Aphmau huffed, returning the dirty look in full force as she watched his retreating back. Some people!

Things began to wear on Aphmau as she continued to wander aimlessly, desperately trying to ignore that she was horribly, horribly lost. To someone used to the high halls and extensively decorated corridors of the castle, all the dusty streets and narrow alleyways looked the same to Aphmau.

Stumbling into an alcove, Aphmau pulled her hood up as she struggled to hold back her tears. She was lost, and nobody would notice she was missing for hours…

A bell rang out, and suddenly the street beyond the little alley was full of people jostling to get to the square. Aphmau, startled by the crowd, hunched her shoulders and curled up further. She just wanted to go home.

“Hey, are you okay?”

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This was going to be longer, but I had hit the perfect spot to cut the chapter in half, so I did. I tried something new with the dialogue in Aphmau and Sylvana's argument, but I'm not sure if it worked as well as I'd hoped.

I was planning to do an illustration or two, but finals came up and all of the scenes I wanted to illustrate are in the next half, which is actually still unfinished. I did say progress would be slow, so at least I'm not setting everyone up with false expectations!

Next time: A griffon, three irresponsible teenagers, and a flight around the kingdom that ends poorly (also Sylvana rides a pegasus)

[razzle-zazzle]

What’s the newest AU you have? Then your oldest?

Ahaha, you never specified fandom!

Oldest: Mystreetia. Came up with the basic idea in eighth grade, long before the docs. If there are any older I don't remember so they don't count.

Newest (that I've talked about on here): Ficus Green. It was a close contest between that and Birdbrain, but after looking through the discord I found that I came up with the base idea of Birdbrain on November 30th, which makes Ficus Green, which originated on December 3rd, the baby of the AU group.

[razzle-zazzle]

Funeral

Prologue - 4 yrs before PDH

703 words

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It was a clear, bright winter day, and a woman was crying.

A cold wind blew through the church as the woman sobbed, her mascara running and her black veil stained with tears. Beside her, a blonde man--her husband--solemnly put his hand on her shoulder, sharing her pain. In the pew next to them sat another man and woman, both wearing grim expressions. Behind the crying woman, a boy scowled as the priest gave his sermon, his hands balling into fists. The pink-haired girl and the smaller brunette sitting next to the boy glanced at him, worried. The brunette in the next pew over shifted uncomfortably.

“...and though he is no longer of this world, the young Ro’Meave will always live on in our hearts. Why, he is likely looking down on us all now, wishing for us all to move on and be happy.” The priest concluded, his expression thoughtfully blank. The boy in the back growled under his breath, his little brother looking at him nervously.

They never even found the body, yet they claim his death. Bastards.

The boy looked up as those attending the funeral--his parents, Zianna and Garte Ro’Meave; his little brother, Vylad; the Zvahls; Nana; and the priest--stood up to carry the coffin out to the graveyard.

The boy joined in on the funeral procession, silently fuming all the way. His friend, Laurance Zvahl, stood next to him and Nana as they lowered the coffin into the ground, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He’s alive, I can feel it.

Zane has to be alive. He can’t be dead, he just can’t.

“Today would've been his tenth birthday.” Remarked Nana, her cat ears drooping. As an indentured servant of the Ro'Meaves and a friend of Zane's, Nana had attended the funeral, only for the event to make her feel worse. But she had to smile. For Garroth and Vylad. For Zane, who wouldn't have wanted his end to make everyone sad. She'd be strong for everyone, like her idol, Kawaii Cookie.

Laurance hadn't known Zane all that well--the raven-haired boy mostly kept to himself while Garroth trained with Laurance. But Zane was Garroth’s brother, so Laurance would bear this pain with Garroth. It was the best he could do for now.

After the casket was lowered into the ground, the priest gave his closing sentiments before asking for a moment of silence.

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After the funeral, the Zvahls took their leave, and eventually, after drying her tears, Zianna and her family left as well.

The house never seemed so quiet before, even though Zane had been missing for over a month. The Ro'Meaves ate their dinner in silence, the oppressive feeling of hurt and loss hanging over them like a storm cloud. It was apparent that the funeral had only intensified the feelings of despair and worry, and now it seemed as though nobody could smile.

Garroth set his fork on his plate, unable to eat. “I’m going to my room.” He stood up to leave, only for Garte to glare.

“Your mother is in tears, and you want to go hide in your room? Garroth, you will stay at this table and eat.”

Garroth glared back defiantly, his hands balling into trembling fists. “I’m going to my room.” he reiterated angrily.

    “Garroth.” Vylad said through clenched teeth, grabbing Garroth’s hand. “Think about this. Zane wouldn’t have wanted you to--”

    “Stop talking about Zane like that. Like he’s dead.” Garroth muttered, pulling his hand away. Zianna cringed, putting a hand to her mouth. Garte steamed.

    “Garroth, Zane is dead.” Vylad said pointedly.

    “NO HE’S NOT!” Garroth yelled, slamming his fists on the table. The silverware rattled.

    Everything seemed to freeze, and for a moment regret flashed across Garroth’s face. Garte seemed dumbfounded, Zianna was pale as a sheet, and Vylad began to cry, his two fox tails popping out in surprise. Garroth looked remorseful before his expression hardened.

    “I’m going to my room.” Garroth said as he stormed off.

    “They never even found the body.”

    Zianna broke into tears as her son left the room, her sobs ringing out across the house. Garte put his hand on her shoulder, his expression harsh. Vylad sniffled, his ears drooping. If Zane were still here, Vylad thought, then everyone wouldn’t be so unhappy.

    The Ro’Meaves skipped dinner that night.

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Ohoho what's this? A prologue for a project that I probably won't update consistently? Angst? My favorite character supposedly dead and not in the story? But probably not?

And that's the prologue for Mystreetia! I was listening to "Hymn for the Missing" by RED while writing this and oof that made me feel so angsty. But what's happened to Zane? That question won't be answered until this AU gets past PDH and into MS season 1ne so buckle in, buddy. It's gonna be a wild ride.

Next time: Kicking off the series proper four years later with Princess Aphmau getting lost in her own hometown.