The Luxian Succession [OPEN]

[Pharaoh]

42 Searing 125
The Palatium Furiarum
Palatine District, Luxium

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Week after week, month after month the electors of House Sol'Aværys gathered to deliberate on the matter of the next Luxian Sovereign. The complexities of this political moment weighed heavy upon the electors. This would be the first succession since the return of the Founders. The last time they had been active in the world, they had ruled in Solunarium themselves and there were some electors who believed Solunarium should wait for them to reclaim their rightful thrones. Others believed such would display a lack of ambition that opposed the principles set for in the Radiant Chronicle, and the former camp had long been favoured by this indecision. As time wore on and the Founders did not assert their claim, though, this ideology waned as another prevailing concern took the fore: The longer The Luxium stood without a sovereign, the greater the weight of the Umbrium's imperium and the more the shadow-kingdom's shadow grew over sunlit Solunarium. Even now, the Umbrium was suing to annex the Ecithian Commonwealth.

"Varvalla Princeps Legatus of the Unbroken Line of Astræon." The herald intoned, as the armoured sunborn princess general of the Golden Guard stepped into the chamber. Wife to the present Prince Regent of the Luxium and mother to one of the top contenders for the Radiant Throne, Varvalla wore a stoic expression as she stood behind her chair awaiting the procession of the electors to conclude.

"Everyl Princeps Prætor of the Unbroken Line of Naxos." At this pronouncement, the Prince Regent of the Luxium and Keeper of its Laws entered. The elder member of the council and husband to Varvalla, Everyl's steady hand had been manning the Luxium since the renunciation of Thalya Derelicta. Everyl was a Sanguinist stalwart who was widower to Thalya's imperial predecessor, Solar Sovereign Varvara X. He had been the obvious choice to supplant the wayward regency of Prince Arkænyn, and many in the Luxium were quite content with an elder statesman of such experience and esteem seated at the helm of state. He took his place beside his wife and waited for the others to enter.

"Lavella Princeps Camerarius of the Unbroken Line of Sorokyn." Next entered the glamorous princess charged as Keeper of the Fundamentals- She who oversaw the traditions and cultural exploits of the Luxium. Thus far her vote had wavered between candidates, and she seemed more than content to let Everyl's regency persist, rather than entrusting the throne to a younger, less predictable figure. She took her place at Everyl's side, nodding to her kinsman with a faint smile.

"Drævyn Princeps Consul of the Unbroken Line of Danann." Thus arrived the dashing Keeper of Coin, whose youngest child was in contention for the high seat in question at this conclave. Though there was no bounden law forcing the hands of the electors, tradition dictated that a Starborn elf, like his son Octavian, should succeed when such a rare blessing was accorded them. With Prince Arkænyn having renounced his claim to the Radiant Throne, that left Octavian as the sole Platinum option. A point which Drævyn had been pressing in prior sessions.

"Vrædyn Princeps Pontifex of the Unbroken Line of Vlahos." The willowy Keeper of the Faith was the lone Moonborn in the Conclave- a sole silver link in a chain forged of glistering gold. Himself a contender for the throne, he'd long been treated as Heir Presumptive to Thalya IV as she'd seemed to groom him thus, before revealing Arkænyn had been hidden away and seeming to turn her then capricious sights upon him to succeed her. It was not hers to decide, but prior to events of late, she had been a formidible force and highly respected by the Regnum Consilium, which was composed of the same figures as this very conclave. Vrædyn stood beside Drævyn, lips pursed as the herald announced the final elector.

"And Cithæra Princeps Sibylla of the Exalted Line of Phædryn." Diminutive and ostensibly unassuming, the Keeper of the Mysteries was garbed in simple robes of silver and black woven in intricate designs that reflected the chains of her house's patroness. Though some had balked at her right to stand as a member of the conclave, since her house had pledged fealty to Zalkyriax Imperator, the law was in her favour, which Everyl, as Prætor was obliged to confirm. Her vote had shifted with the winds throughout the process. Whenever it seemed a majority may take hold, her vote seemed to put them back at an impasse. Her hallowed task in the conclave was to use her formidable talents as a Grand Master of Semblance to gauge the magical abilities of each contender and highlight whose potential was greatest. She had found that Octavian had a bit of an edge on Vrædryn, though he was yet far from meeting his potential, where Vrædyn was a Grandmaster Mage of great prowess. Seværys, likely to the vexation of his two parents in the conclave, was slightly beneath the other two contenders.

But none of this was news to the conclave at this point. They had been deliberating for more than a year, but now that it seemed to be unanimously agreed that they should wait no longer for the Founders to claim their rightful thrones or make their preferences explicitly known. They had to acknowledge the proof that was already before them.

"Let us be seated." Everyl said, and the electors claimed their chairs.

"Long have we deliberated and as of our last session I believe there has been a shift toward consensus. I hereby call for a vote on the matter of the succession." The regent continued. "Varvalla Princeps, what says House Astræon?"

"I stand firm, as I have from the outset. The candidate I choose knows his duty, cares deeply for his people, and will lead the Luxium into another Golden Age. House Astræon declares for Seværys Princeps."

"Your vote is so recorded. As House Naxos is next in the order, I will say my piece. I love my son Seværys and believe he would be a splendid Solar Sovereign... however, in my heart I seek to sate the Hunger of Aværys and I am given to believe that He has made His choice plain. Only one of our three contenders has been marked with the sacred Emblem of Majesty and that is our Princeps Pontifex. House Naxos declares for Prince Vrædyn."

Varvalla's jaw visibly set at this, but she nodded in firm acknowledgement, as Everyl turned his gaze next to his opposing side.

"Lavella, what says the House of Sorokyn?"

"I believe my grandson Prince Primus owes his life to Prince Octavian. I will forever be grateful to your son, Drævyn, for helping to bring him back to us. However, I must agree with our regent. The favour of Aværys is writ upon the flesh of but one of our number. In all of the Unbroken Line, it is Vrædyn alone who knows his favour explicitly. Sorokyn declares for Vrædyn."

"So noted. Prince Drævyn, what says House Danann?"

"I defy the assumption that an Emblem is the only way for the Founders to articulate their preferences. The love of both of our Gods is woven into the very fibres that compose the Platinum flesh of my son Octavian, a hero in the Zonam Mysteriam and he who holds the greatest magical potential of all contenders. Danann declares for Octavian Princeps."

"Acknowledged. Prince Vrædyn- What says House Vlahos?"

"Thus far I have demurred out of modesty. Abstaining, or voting with my mind, but not my heart. Today I acknowledge that I hold the Ambition, Hunger and Power to reign. Vlahos declares for Vrædyn."

"Thus recorded. And, finally, what says the Exalted House of Phædryn, Princess Cithæra?"

"When I first gauged the magical potential of our candidates, I was accounting for ætheric magic alone, as is customary. However, when one takes into consideration the formidable Divine magic at the beck of one candidate, all others fall by the wayside. The House of Phædryn formally declares for Prince Vrædyn."

"Then, with one vote for Prince Seværys, one vote for Prince Octavian and four votes for Prince Vrædyn, we reach consensus and, for the first time in ten generations, we will be ruled by a Silver Sovereign. I will prepare a formal announcement and Lavella, please begin preparations for a formal coronation but as of this moment, I yield up my sceptre to Your Argent Luminescence, Vrædyn I Imperator. All hail!" Everyl rose from his seat, and the others followed suit, turning to take a knee to their new Silver Sovereign, who smiled faintly as he addressed them.

“Let us take a few days to inform the other candidates and begin our preparations. Everyl, please continue to conduct the duties of regent until I am in readiness. In five days time, the bells shall sound at twilight and, under the light of the blessed silver moon, the announcement of accession shall be rendered"

47 Searing 125
Templum Solis Radians
Palatine District, Luxium

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As the moon hung in a clear sky painted in twilit tones, bells rang out from the great, holy temple of Aværys that loomed over much of the Luxian cityscape. The coordinated effort of some hundred Mesmer Mages, amplifying the formidable grandmastery of Vrædyn himself and sending a wave of near euphoric relief washing over the city. It sought not to force its way past the wards weak enough to be overpowered by such mighty magic, but all those in the capital who were not guarded against it would feel a sense of wonder and intrigue, knowing that the last piece had finally been placed in some mysterious puzzle. Throughout both Luxium and Umbrium, many Solunarians would drop what they were doing and begin to make their way up toward the Palatine District of the Luxium.

The bells proclaimed it and the magic piercing the Symphonies of so many Solunarians fortified it: A new Sovereign had acceded to rule the Luxium. Guards who kept gates that typically denied lesser castes stood aside, allowing all comers entry to the foreground of the Palatium Furarium. As the crowd grew, the a thunderous rumble churned forth from Mount Sorokyn that quaked the very foundations of the Luxium, as the five Royal Platinum Dragons burst forth from the mouth of the Volcano and took to the air, circling the Radiant Palace.

The members of the Conclave of Electors stepped forth and stood at the summit of the great flight of stairs that led up to the main entrance of the Palatium Furiarum, flanked by various members of each branch of the Divine House of Sol’Aværys. In full view, stood each of the candidates that were publicly known to be in contention for the Radiant Throne, as well as the Prince Regent of the Umbrium with his elven siblings, though his maritus and winged brother were known to be abroad in the Commonwealth.

“Populi Solunarii!” Everyl bellowed, “Under the Argent Eye of Midnight’s Mother and with the blessings of the Rex Regnum, I hereby yield the reins of imperium to the duly elected prince who shall henceforth rule in the Luxium. I give you your undoubted emperor: Thalyus Vrædyn Princeps Imperator, your Silver Sovereign and Pater Imperialis! All Hail Vrædyn, First of that Name, righteous be his reign!”

Cheers erupted through the massive mob at this joyous news, only settling when Vrædyn himself stepped forth, which brought the crowd to their knees.

“My people! As Princeps Pontifex, I have come to know the heart of the Solunarian people. I have heard your confessions, soothed your Symphonies, and learnt what vexes and what delights ye. What I have learnt from my time as your shepherd and the living bridge between the Founders and the people, is that we are strong! We are resilient! We are the happiest nation in all of Ransera, and that is because our ways are the most sound in all the world. Where we struggle most is where we get lost in the labyrinth of life, and where we most excel is where we allow the Founders to be the light that guides us through this maze of existence.” Vrædyn’s eyes began to glow as an æthereal crown formed, rotating above his brow- resplendent and sending a surge of awe through all onlookers, warded and otherwise. As he spoke on, his voice was a chorus that resounded through the city and into the empty desert beyond.

“I will rule you in love, for love is what I most feel for you all and for the ways that make us the greatest of civilisations to ever rise on Ransera! I love you as I hate all that opposes our ways, for that which defies us spreads suffering where we sow content! My love for you abounds and shall guide the sceptre I but borrow from the King of Kings for as long as he condescends to allow me to wield it! In the holy names of Varvara Divina and Aværys Deus Imperator, I rise to serve you and to better all of the world with the spreading of Their Holy Word! Pro Deus et Domina, let a Nova Solunarium stand salient against the forces of misery and disorder as we continue the ideological crusade our Founders commenced!” He lifted his hand into the air and a sceptre of blazing gold formed in his grasp, casting a burst of blinding light throughout the city as the newly mantled Vrædyn I Imperator stood to bask in the elation of his people, taking in the music of their supportive Symphonies as they welcomed him to his new place on the pyramid.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Post dinner and dessert, Hilana had been tucked into Kor's side on the couch while she was reading one of her books that Sivan had recommended to her. His arm rested over her shoulders, and the cats were also sprawled out around them. Etzalal had settled on one of the snake perches while Sviras rested over Kor's shoulders, looking at the book with Hilana. Lia was in a seat, busy with her embroidery. Kalor had given her a new thread colour to work into the design, and it was now being worked in. The little spirit decided he wanted Kor's attention, too, and clambered over to the couch to get it. Kor lifted him gently, and let him sit beside him, pleased with the man's presence and attention, while at once on his best behaviour. If Lia's thread wore down again, then he would likely come help her choose a new colour. Until then, he sat quietly and happily.

Despite wards from Lia and Rickter, she felt something pulling at her, and she paused mid-question about the subject matter. "Did you feel that?" Hilana paused, looking up at Kor. He lifted his head, looking on, and nodded.

"It is Mesmer. Shall we go and look?" he smiled down at her. It was unlikely to be dangerous, considering the sensations that were there. Hilana smiled back up at him, and closed the book, slipping a ribbon between the pages to mark her spot, and gently dislodged Risdra from her lap. The two green cats had to be moved from Kor's lap, and while they were on this side of offended, they would surely aim to reclaim it once they returned. Lia put her embroidery in the satchel where the cats could not get it, and took Kalor from Kor, and the cluster of Vastii and spirits, one in a golem and two serpentine ones, left Hilana's apartment to make their way with the throngs of people leaving the Aurecine district to head north to the Palatium.

With the pronouncement made and rendered, they joined in the cheering. They may have been sworn citizens to the Umbrian crown, but both lived and worked in the Luxium. Neither sister could say they were surprised - Hilana's only quiet question had been if his closeness with his late grandmother would have weighed against him - and believed the Conclave had come to the right decision. Overhead, Etzalal spouted little sparks, caught up in the mood, until Hilana coaxed him back down, clapping. Sviras made himself incorporeal upon her shoulders, wary of the crowds around them. There was little doubt with this display that it would be known that he possessed Majesty, and the revelation, Hilana rather thought, was quite carefully timed.

[Barakael]

The Luxian Succession

47th of Searing, Year 125, A.o.S

ϟ The warmth of Searing and the Atraxian sun was well received by the Vishan mixed breed. This morning, Barakael was hard at work within the training grounds of the estate, the gladiator putting his martial skills through a gauntlet. This day, he had his fellow gladiators helping him, sizing him up, and making sure he remained in top shape. Together with his comrades, he put himself through as much physical exercise as possible to build and maintain peak fighting form. In combat, it's crucial to assess reaction time, coordination, and attack patterns, and he knew it would become useful in the long run.

It was not an easy task, as the senior gladiator didnt hold back on him, using the full breadth of their skills. After fighting for his life, he called for a break as his body couldn't take much more abuse, calling them off, which caused them all to laugh. As he enjoyed his respite, he felt it, a sensation of ephuric bliss. It was...pleasant, and he found his eyes closing, sighing happily from the feeling. It was like a warm embrace from his father, or a tender hug, and the source of it was, he wanted to go to it, he wanted to be as close as he could to the source of such a wonderful feeling. It stirred something in his soul, and he couldnt deny or fight it.

He melted in it, allowing it to wrap around his very being, allowing what hold it had on him to take full control until he found himself moving towards the inner city, the sound of the bells letting him and everyone else who felt it know one thing: a new solar sovereign had been chosen. Moving through the crowd, he could hardly contain his excitement. After long last, a new sovereign would be placed upon the throne of the Luxium. He couldnt believe it, but he was glad to be alive to witness it, to see his new sovereign with his own eyes. He had come on his own, as he wanted to get as close as he possibly could to see the proclamation and witness the new sovereign.

That's when he saw a familiar face, as she had become unmistakable to him, you just couldnt miss her. Wading his way through the crowd to her, he waved, calling out to the Vastina woman. "Salve Hilana!!!" he said as he got closer. "This has to be one of the greatest days of my life, to see a new sovereign sit on the throne." he added, listening to the words of the Luxium's new ruler.

Barakael, like most of the masses gathered, was mesmerized, tears of joy and happiness flowing, wetting his cheeks. To bask in the splendor of one chosen by the King of Kings, the Radiant One, Barakael couldnt have been happier. ϟ

"Vastian Speech"
"Tallenese Speech"
"Vallenor Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Eitan Angevin]

“for he said, ‘I have been a stranger in a strange land.’”

“but a stranger in a strange land, he is no one;
men know him not—and to know not is to care not for.”

While they had been afforded every courtesy and many a luxury, it was a strange thing to be a foreign dignitary in Solunarium. All attention was paid his needs, and yet he might have walked stark naked down the street and the only people who would have noticed were his compatriots from Zaichaer.

Perhaps on the edge of this throng, only those nearby didn't look his way. The presence of the Silver Sentinels dissuaded undue attention, and perhaps the common man did not want to know what the Sentinels were up to, lest they end up embroiled in matters beyond their ken. This was probably wisdom, but he did not imagine that Solunarian peasants had such a monopoly upon wisdom.

Kenofer took them to place where they could look on with some comfort, which Angevin appreciated, of course. He understood the theater of politics now, though the scale of it was different here. Stoic, he observed, and he had briefed his men to remain aloof from their feelings and simply record; they would discuss later in privacy.

Since he felt the wave of Mesmer crash against his wards when the bells began to toll, he had become even more concerned with privacy. It hadn't attempted to break them, but he had redoubled the wards all the same, even if that proved unnecessary given the Negation sewn into their uniforms. Their showmanship was impressive enough that it hardly seemed to require arcane support, but he supposed his own fail safes were in a similar vein.

As the hierophant-king exhorted his faithful, Angevin looked on coolly. He didn't know whether he would treat with Thalyus Vrædyn Princeps Imperator before returning to Zaichaer; no doubt his schedule would be full to overflowing as he acceded to his traitorous grandmother's throne.

There was nary a twitch of an eyelid as he all but declared a holy war upon the rest of Ransera; he could only hope his men maintained their aplomb.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

"Dragons..." Reiner knew better than to utter the word, but he couldn't help mouthing it as the five Platinums burst forth from the mouth of the volcano and took to the skies orbiting the spectacle below. The Vastian proclamation didn't initially garner his attention and he paid little attention to the translator the Sentinels had provided for their comprehension. He lacked much in the way of context. They'd already been told a decision had been rendered and he didn't know enough about any of the princely contenders to take any great interest in the Luxian Succession. They were all just elves cast in different hues and it seemed they'd gone for the dark-haired one, which he'd come to understand was a 'Moonborn'. When the new sovereign himself stepped forward to speak, the musical voice of Vrædyn did succeed in tearing Reiner's gaze from the skies and bringing it down to earth.

Handsome, slender and tall, but not obscenely so, the new Silver Sovereign was the sort of elf who might have passed for human if not for the ears. He was striking to be sure and seemed comfortable before a crowd as he spoke in what Reiner inferred to be the universal language of politicians. They had the Crown as Zaichaer had the State, but the general gist was similar, albeit laced in this instance with a great deal of piety that the New Atheistic Zaichaer tended to eschew. The end of the speech did raise his eyebrow a bit, but the spectacle of it all did somewhat distract from the fighting words.

By and by, when speech and spectacle concluded and the translator begged off, leaving the Zaichaeri to their own devices, Reiner looked to Eitan.

"I wonder what it was like in Old Zaichaer when one of your ancestors took the throne." Reiner didn't know much about that period in their history. That sort of trivia wasn't part of his education, which had been geared more toward the practical than the ancient or the aspirational.

"Do you ever wish we still had Angevin kings in Zaichaer? I sort of see the appeal."

[Eitan Angevin]

"Some were more popular than others," he said after thanking the translator for their efforts on the Zaichaeri delegation's behalf.

"And certainly there was an amount of pomp and circumstance. Nothing like this, I imagine. In scale or underlined with Mesmer. But even Stefan has to control the narrative sometimes to ensure the people work together rather than fall apart and work against Progress."

After a moment of true introspection, "I can see the appeal of being king, and I suppose I could have made a play for it between the ZADC and Order, but the checks and balances we have will, I hope, prevent a Minister or a Marshal or a Sentinel from becoming a tyrant. But Melchior and my father made a path to leadership easier for Stefan and me than it would have been otherwise, and no doubt our own children—and yours—will have easy paths to leadership and the education to see it as their duty.

"Not so very different from royal dynasties."

He considered the crowds. They were apart for now, but he could feel the call to revelry lapping against his wards.

"Perhaps we ought to return to our temporary embassy, hey? This crowd looks to be in high spirits. Oh, did you want me to ask Kenofer if we can have a go at riding wyverns?"

Eitan couldn't give Reiner a dragon, but a dragonling might make him smile.

[Reiner Dornkirk]

"Dunno much about history." Reiner replied, sounding disappointed with his own ignorance. It was hard not to be jealous of the advantages with which his cousins had grown up. His self-made uncle had, in one generation- in his own lifetime in fact, made his sons like princes of Zaichaer with their stately home and world class education. Eitan came from generational wealth that originated much further back, when some warlord claimed a particularly valuable plot of land or some well-heeled bachelor rendered the right marriage match to consolidate land holdings or something else that had nothing to do with the man who stood before him now. Nothing but a droplet of blood passed down. Such things were starker here. He didn't imagine someone like him would have been able to rise even to his modest station in a place like this.

"I think I like our ways better, even if theirs are shinier." Reiner concluded, knitting his brow nevertheless. The notion of wyvern riding flattened out those wrinkles, though, as his eyes went wide.

"Um, yes, let's head back but I do want to revisit this wyvern riding thing tomorrow morning..." He replied rather emphatically, as he straightened out his uniform and waited for Eitan to situate himself before making his way to the door at his side.

"Cousin?" He paused his gait, looking at Eitan rather intensely. That he called him cousin rather than admiral or sir was a conscious distinction to indicate he was speaking not as a soldier of Zaichaer, but as an individual.

"This place has raised strange questions in my mind. I was wondering- Which do you think is more important? Liberty or happiness?"

[Hilana Chenzira]

"Salve, Barakael, how are you doing?" Hilana returned with a smile. She could see that he, like many of the others around them, was much more affected by the constant and consistent waves. Kor was looking on, the sturdy Vastian man with the longer hair standing slightly behind Hilana to prevent anyone from jostling her while she looked on. The winged snake continued to fly around and above them, as Lia gave the gladiator a smile and a nod of greeting.

"It's quite exciting, isn't it?" the taller of the sisters agreed. Thalya had been all that most of them had ever known, and certainly all Hilana ever expected to know - the old battleaxe had definitely seemed unlikely to abdicate from the throne of Sovereign in her lifetime, though circumstances had changed quite some time ago. "Our new Silver Sovereign. I do wonder what will happen down below." What with the House of Sol'Zalkyrion claiming the Umbrian court, chances were Vraedyn would stay in the Luxium and rule from there, if she had to guess.

Some part of her wondered just how responsible for all of this Cithaera Princeps was, her slain father avenged in a rather roundabout way. If Hilana had to guess from what she knew, Arvaelyn's reveal as being the son of Cithaera and the Crownwyrm had been the trigger that had set the Sunborn queen into her death spiral. She didn't know how much the monarch had spent studying the ancient craft of Aeternus, and how much of that was responsible for the crumbling of a rather steadfast if steady reign. Perhaps she was already starting to crack and Arvaelyn had just been the hammer that had really got that wedge in there.

But that was all speculation, and there was little point in thinking about it. As far as she was concerned, Vraedyn was arguably the best choice for their new Silver Sovereign. The oldest, the most experienced, and arguably the one whom His Divine Radiance had seen fit to bless him in the Phaedryn's quiet quest behind the scenes to return the Founders to their Home, and that was certainly good enough for Hilana.

[Eitan Angevin]

"As do I," he said, lips barely moving and a ward protecting them from eavesdroppers. "As do I."

There were Sentinels seeing to their safety, but he figured they were doing them a favor by getting out of the throng once the announcement was made. Angevin had no intention of being out and about in a foreign land during a time of even positive upheaval.

Later, perhaps, he would ask Reiner if he wanted to know more about history. There was a bit of a tightrope he was walking with his cousin-in-law, trying to be supportive as a family member, trying to be a good professional mentor, and also wanting to give himself enough agency in his own life that he wasn't forcing Reiner into some mold he decided was best for him.

His opinions were clear, he thought, though he didn't often opine personally unless Reiner asked for it.

"Well, I certainly want to try wyvern-riding," he said with a chuckle, glad that his wards meant they didn't have to shout. The din around them was dulled by the aetheric boundaries he set.

At cousin, his ears perked (though they remained round).

"It has me reexamining things as well," he admitted. "I think... hm, ignorance might be bliss, but I would rather have liberty than happiness. Life punches you in the gut sometimes. Rakes you over the coals sometimes. But how do you know when you are happy if you have never been unhappy? The seed of Progress is an awareness that something is wrong or could be improved... If one is happy all the time, how would one know that Progress was possible?

"Sometimes I would do something just so and my father would show an inkling of approval, and that made me happy. But... hm, perhaps happiness is an umbrella for a great number of things... In any case, that sort of happiness was so dependent upon his whims, and I never cracked the code that would have made him happy forever and, thus, me happy forever. I had to suffer, and take that suffering to galvanize me to make things better for myself and for other people.

"I want my friends, my family, my people to be happy... I can shield them from some things, but if I take away their will, the chance to learn from their choices, the good and the bad, then I'm not doing them any favors, and I'm cheapening whatever happiness they do find."

He paused.

"And that is just my opinion, Reiner. Take it or leave it." He offered a more relaxed smile than he normally did in his role as Admiral.

[Barakael]

The Luxian Succession

47th of Searing, Year 125, A.o.S

ϟ Barakael as most others in the crowd was caught up in the rapture of patriotism and happiness as the merryment of the moment swelled. Looking at Hilana and her sister, he smiled and picked them both up in his arms, spinning around before setting them down as gently as possible. "Forgive my brashness, you two, I just can't contain my happiness or excitement. For so long I wished to see a new sovereign sit on the throne, and now it has come to pass."

He was still crying tears of joy as he looked towards where the Silver Sovereign stood. His desire, his hunger to reach a pinnacle just as great and beyond, burned ever more fervently now. They had a ruler who could usher in a new age for the Luxium at long last. He wanted nothing more than to be a part of that and to be pleasing in the eyes of the Deus Imperator. When she brought up how the Umbrium would respond, he pondered the thought as well and smiled at the woman. "Only the Deus Imperator & Midnight’s Mother know that, and I pray they favor the Luxium." he noted.

"We should enjoy the evening with such news. No doubt there will be celebrations all around the realm because of the proclamation. You two could see how we Luxians have fun." he invited, though he would understand if they declined, wanting to spend their revelries in the Umbrium instead. It was at that moment that Lady Aya appeared, her left and right sides flanked by her pet lions as usual. Placing a hand on Barakael's arm, he knelt down, kissing her hand as a sign of respect to the Senatrix, her gaze fixed on the Vastian sisters.

"And just who might these beauties be, my little lion prince?" she inquired, her gaze fierce and appraising, looking both women over. Standing, he bowed "This Hilana and her sister Lia, the ones I met at the Magma Flow Fields." he introduced, to which she smiled, giving both women a polite curtsey. Approaching Hilana, she took her by the hand. "You are the one I owe gratitude to for saving my silly little lion from a deadly snake bite. If you are ever in need of anything, know the Golden Lioness owes you a favor, and I always repay my debts." she thanked, her pet lions coming to nuzzle the sisters for a moment, then returning to the side of their mistress.

Barakael wasnt expecting her to be here, but then again, why wouldn't she be? She was a noble, after all, and it only made sense. Looking back to Hilana, he fought back the blush that wanted to be seen on his face. "So about that invitation to celebrate this occasion together, are you up for it? I'll understand if not." ϟ

"Vastian Speech"
"Tallenese Speech"
"Vallenor Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"