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Post by Arylina Sparrowbower on Jul 22, 2020 19:13:57 GMT
MORE THAN A CROWN
A streak of light raced through the night sky, moving at a speed she could still perceive before finally flickering away. The girl gave a sigh, looking out the window of her bedroom as her golden amber eyes watched the telltale signs of another departing train from the Galaxy Railways station leave Avo and fly at unimaginable speeds through the stars to other worlds.
It was madness to think that this wasn't at all what one saw just a few years ago, before those men and women arrived from the stars and proposed a series of train stations on their world, and the metal people with them. Of course, it had been three decades ago, before she had been born, that the strange flying ship had crashed into Brightwood, full of odd people and things not human that had been fleeing some world ending disaster. Her mother, the Hero Queen Sparrow, had been kind enough to grant those refugees asylum within Albion, though it had been adamantly insisted that Bowerstone be allowed to study the damaged vessel. A paragon, the Hero Queen was, but she was also one to seize an opportunity when she saw it.
"Your Majesty, we still are trying to make headway with the Outsiders that your mother granted the Brightwood to in negotiating trade and economic standards. There is also the matter of their contribution to the rapid progression of -"
"I understand that as Minister of the newly appointed Industrial Development committee, you are eager to lay claim to resources and the salvage that we were promised by the Toril. But this will have to wait until morning, Lord Reaver."
Her brother, the king. Once again debating and combating the aspirations of that odious baron Reaver, a man who had been around since her mother's youth, and hadn't seemed to have aged a day if any of those portraits he was so fond of had any truth to them. Even Walter had commented on the man's seemingly uninterrupted youth, and Walter was older than her mother would have been if she were still alive.
"But, Majesty, the longer we delay in addressing these matters -"
"It is late, and I need my rest, as does my sister who's room we argue near, Lord Reaver. This will wait until the throne sees matters of state in the 'morrow." The aggravation in Logan's voice was far more noticeable now, making Arylina smirk before sneaking herself back into bed. It was the perfect timing as her door clicked and Logan peeked in to check on her.
"Sleep well, sister," the young King whispered before closing the door. A click again as the latch closed, and Arylina smiled to herself. She wasn't very fond of Reaver, and to hear Logan put him in his place was more amusing than it should have been.
Post by Arylina Sparrowbower on Aug 11, 2020 19:30:21 GMT
MORE THAN A CROWN
"This is a bit trickier than the simple flintlocks you've practiced with before, but I have faith that it will all come natural."
Walter had been adamant on firearms training this day. Logan had just left for one of his regular journeys to the corners of Avo. He would likely be gone for a few weeks, but thankfully the regents and advisory council remained to handle more serious matters in his absence. Which suited her fine so long as that detestable Reaver didn't try to assume the 'command of the industry' as he had the last time that Arylina had been left to learn and observe the daily judgments of the throne. It was also one of those times she wished Reaver would board a Galaxy Railways train and leave the planet until her brother returned.
The clockwork firearm Walter had given her was a basic pistol with a three bullet rotary chamber. The revolving cylinder would flip out on a hinge to one side, allowing her to reload the weapon and lock it shut again before taking aim at the target set up a few dozen feet away.
"Feels differ't." Aralina adjusted her grip, noting that she couldn't hold the weapon in the same fashion as a flintlock. "Mair weight, less frail. Lik' ah kin fire a dozen roonds 'n' nae worry aboot misfire or th' bullet jammin' in th' barrel."
A nod from the old soldier. It was then he held out a highly customized pistol that bore a sparrow detailing along the wide barrel. "That gun was made for your mother by Professor Faraday when she was still journeying about Albion and bringing order to the land after she defeated Lord Lucien and restored those who died building his Spire."
A pause as Walter observed the careful motions that Arylina took in examining the well kept and polished silver and black firearm now in her hands. After a moment, the pistol swung open at a lower hinge, like a spring loaded latch, and extended out a catch spoke that was clearly designed for a special type of loader. "It has an ejection mechanic and could use a special caliber type of ammunition that she kept locked up in the armory vault."
She was silent, and as Arylina looked over the firearm, she gave her wrist a quick upsnap to bring the sections of the pistol closing back and locking together. "Ah figure that ye'r showing me this sae ah hae some encouragement tae keep oan thin's 'n' git guid enough tae deserve usin' that."
A nod as Sir Walter accepted the masterwork pistol back. "Aye, though that could be sooner than later, depending on matters."
Post by Arylina Sparrowbower on Aug 16, 2020 1:10:14 GMT
MORE THAN A CROWN
It was strange that Logan had still not yet returned from his journey. Even on those that had taken him longer than usual, word still was sent ahead to let his little sister and the reagents know that he was safe and on his way back to Bowerstone. Even Walter had heard nothing yet of the young king's travels to distant Aurora.
That was what bothered the Princess more than anything else. It was most unlike Logan to be so silent. Ever since his very early rise to the throne with their parents' death, Logan had been more than responsible in keeping the castle apprised of his condition on these journeys.
And then the heralds cried out that he had returned. Lessons with the tutors or no, the Princess would leave the library without even an apology and race at full sprint down the hallway for one of the balconies. Not that the governess could hold her in contempt.
She could see him approaching, just outside the castle gates. But where was his entourage? His horse? And, why did he look as if he were beaten and battered? What had happened in Aurora?
Those questions could wait until later. For now, the auburn tresses swirled as the princess spun on her heel, sprinting from the balcony and down the hallway toward the nearest stairwell. Logan had already crossed under the raised portcullis and was stepping into the main courtyard from way of the Bowerstone market road.
"Logan, wha' happened-"
"Cawl Lord Reaver." His attentions were not on his sister, but the guards who had swarmed to give him coverage. His attire was torn and stained, dirt and sand caked into seams while the gashes on his face and smears of red revealed that whatever had happened to his entourage had been only narrowly avoided by him. "Cawl the war council, I wan' Sir Beck here at once, I wan' the cass'l on full lockdeun unti' furth'ah notice from me, aur from Sir Beck."
He didn't even look to her as he was escorted inside by the castle guards. It took her a long minute to catch her breath after seeing what had come home from what normally was just another journey to their neighbor countries. His face bore several cuts that were no doubt going to scar, his eyes had been full of panic and fear. Yet his voice had been harsh and ice cold. And Logan hadn't even addressed her presence once.
"I do fear, highness, that the expectations of state are not compatible with your predilection for sneaking out and getting into late night street fights with backyard bullies."
Once again, she had been caught after a night of trying to see what was going on in Bowerstone and the rumors of a kingdom in unrest. Gossip had been making its way ever since Logan had returned, of a harsher presence to the Crown ever since his trip to Aurora. She didn't want to believe that he had changed, but it was undeniable that something was different. His behaviors, the way he spoke to people...
He was different...something had happened. And at fifteen years of age, it was to hell with anyone who told her to stay put and not involve herself. Even when all she was doing was dealing with the adolescent rabble of the city.
"Sti' felt guid," came the Princess' retort, in reply to both Jasper and her own internal musings. An auburn strand of hair was brushed aside from over her eyes as she watched Jasper give her a resigned sigh before leaving. "Mah mum used tae deu far worse, Jasper." A turn to huff and look out her bedroom window. "Na need tae be lecturing me."
"It is not my lectures that should concern you, highness," said Jasper as he departed down the stairs. The delay in the sound of her chamber doors made her ponder what the man had been insinuating...and then they slammed shut.
"It's mine."
Her eyes widened as she heard the firm baritone voice, one that was all too familiar to her from many a lesson in tactics, combat, and moral ethics. Arylina winced a moment later as she heard that deep sigh of disappointment.
"This was also one of your mother's less than proper habits as well." Sound disapproval was in the old soldier's voice as he strode across the room to stand now by the fireplace. "But when the people come to expect a front line warrior from their queen, I suppose the old town streets never quite leave the blood."
She afforded herself a quick smirk before turning to face the stern visage of Walter Beck, head of security in Bowerstone, one of her brother's advisors, and the man who taught her everything she knew about defending herself and others.
And not just with a blade.
"Gen 'n' nashgab spread fast, Walter." Even as the elder soldier raised a brow at her, Arylina wasn't about to back down. "Ah' 'now mah brother. Somethin' spooked him fur sure in Aurora, but he is nae a tyrant, nor a mad loon tryin' tae grip control."
No immediate reply, though Walter was clearly hesitating to answer aside from respect for both the King he had known before Logan's return from Aurora, and for the young woman who was adamantly defending her brother.
"Ye'v 'neun him sin mah mahther pushed him aut hollering as a bairn. Ye 'neu that thae gossip ain' him at aw'l. Logan haes bin keeping Albion safe 'n' prospering sin' he had tae tak' th' crown, he wou'nae jist caw 'roond 'n' slam down an iron fist."
