Circa 274 n.t.
Disaeylah, Chairgo
Dysis sat idly on a wooden bench that had been built into the arched entryway that allowed access into the farm behind her. She stared out at the rolling hills beyond their walls. The scene was almost hypnotic... Not a tree was to be seen, just a dusty road winding its way through the tall grasses of this open land she was now to call home. A gentle wind sent ripples, like waves, through the expanse of grass blades. A few thin clouds floated in the sky, seemingly enjoying the warmth as much as she.
The sound of her aunt's voice interrupted her trance. Dysis turned her head in the direction of the villa to see if she was needed. Enora, her aunt, stood just outside the atrium underneath a marble archway, calling to someone other than Dysis. Her view was cut off by the entryway she sat in, so couldn't see who. It didn't seem terribly important, though, so she allowed herself to relax again. She pulled her legs up so that she could rest her chin on her knees.
Despite being several miles from any towns, the Villa Gregoria was luxurious. It was technically a farm, and signs of this fact were still apparent, but it had been owned by House Hirdalio for many generations. It was now a very lucrative business, and beyond the walls of the estate it operated on a relatively large scale. Dysis knew, without having to see them, that several servants on the other side of the villa were at that very moment hustling about amongst the stables and pig pens performing their various duties. And then perhaps a hundred more servants were currently beyond the walls working the fields, mostly harvesting wheat this time of year.
Dysis admired her aunt for managing everything so effectively. Enora was a precise and decisive woman, and she never shied away from hard work. Though, one might not believe it if they saw her. She maintained an elegance that was worthy of the Emperor's court. Dysis thought the woman was gorgeous. And it wasn't just because of her outward appearance. Her Aunt Enora was a gracious Lady, a pleasant hostess, and an attentive mother. Dysis liked to think that if her own mother were still alive that she would be just like Enora.
Concerning her uncle, the Tribune Feryx, Dysis had not yet had an opportunity to get to know him very well. He was frequently traveling away from the estate on imperial business and she had only been there for a month. In fact, it was only a few days ago that Dysis had met him for the first time. During her entire stay thus far he had been gone... fighting in a war that Dysis knew only a little about... a war that had taken her father from her and left her truly alone...
She pushed the feelings of loss and loneliness back down to where she hoped to eventually imprison them. She distracted her thoughts by watching her aunt. By this time Sefrono, Feryx and Enora's son, entered the scene. It was apparently to him that she had been calling. After a few words that Dysis could not hear, Sefrono left his mother and headed in her direction.
He waved at her as he approached, and called to her, "I have to go 'fetch' my father. Care to join?"
Dysis twisted in her seat and lowered her feet back to the ground. "Do you know where he is?"
Sefrono shrugged. "No...not exactly. But I have a guess that I am fairly confident in."
He was now near enough to her to extend his hand toward her and help her stand up. Dysis impulsively brushed herself off and straightened the fabric of her stola. Her cousin waited patiently beside her.
Even though they were not brother and sister, Sefrono and Dysis could have passed as such. They were both nearly sixteen years of age, had typical L'disian blonde hair (despite their Dessane heritage) with blue eyes, and very tan complexions (their more Dessane-dominant characteristic).
"And where will this guess be taking us?" Dysis asked her cousin.
"Oh, don't worry. I think you will like it."
-----
A half hour later Sefrono reigned in his horse and Dysis followed suite. Ahead of them was the remains of an old fortress. The ground around its base was flat with relatively little vegetation, which contrasted greatly with the tall grass of the rolling hills around the area. Rocks and rubble were scattered around the area and patches of moss covered their surfaces.
Dysis assumed that the ruins must have been an important location during its time because it was a large structure. None of the towers' roofs remained, and nearly the entire west wing had completely collapsed. But other than a few more signs of degeneration, the fortress still stood intact.
Dysis did not have to ask to know that a battle took place here. It still surprised her, though, when she looked down at the ground and saw the skeletal remains of a man. A large, oval shield covered most of the skeleton, but the rusted armor was still easily identifiable - he had been a Yuaelan soldier. Other boney remains lay scattered on the ground to the west.
"What is this site?" Dysis asked.
Sefrono responded, "Khriselon."
Dysis pulled on the reigns to stop her mare. "Khriselon? I had no idea that you lived so close."
Sefrono nodded and then said, "I frequently find father here."
They made their way to a portion of the ruins where they could enter with their horses. Dysis looked about her and decided that they were in what must have been a dining room. The ceiling had caved in at the far end of the room, revealing a soldier's quarters above. Sefrono nudged his stallion back into a walk and they left the room to follow a dim corridor toward the center of the fortress. They passed through occasional rays of light that streamed down through cracks in the ceiling above them.
They exited the corridor and stepped out into an open courtyard. The inner walls of the structure rose up around them, except to their left, where the rubble of the west wing began. To their right, a grey stallion grazed on the short layer of grass that covered the ground. It was Sefrono's father's horse, but the Tribune was not in sight.
They dismounted and Sefrono pointed toward some stairs directly ahead of them. "This way."
After going up two flights of stairs Dysis followed Sefrono out into the open air again. They were now on the ramparts. The Tribune Feryx stood before them, facing the green hills beyond.
When he heard them coming he turned and greeted them with a smile. Dysis felt the pang of sadness that she always felt when she saw her uncle. He resembled her own father so closely that she could barely tell him apart from the man in her memories.
"What brings the two of you to this solemn place?" the Tribune asked softly.
"Mother sent us." Sefrono answered.
His father nodded and looked up at the sun. "The afternoon is nearly gone. I suppose I should have headed back long ago."
Sefrono stepped over to the waist-high wall of the ramparts and leaned over to drop a pebble over the edge. "That is alright," he said, "I wanted a chance to bring Dysis here anyway."
Feryx looked at Dysis. "Have you not visited this site as yet?"
Dysis shook her head.
"Well then, let me welcome you to Khriselon." He indicated that he wanted her to stand beside him, and then turned back around to continue staring out across the land of Disaeylah.
Dysis commented as she stood next to him, "A great victory was won here. Why the ruins?"
Feryx leaned forward, placing his forearms on the stone of the short wall. "History calls it a great victory..."
"Was it not?"
Feryx looked over at her, and for a moment he gazed at her thoughtfully. She could not interpret the expression, but it hinted at sorrow. At last he responded quietly, "Victory is an ideal."
Sefrono walked over to where they were and leaned onto the wall, copying his father. "Mother says that we just had another victory. That is why you got to come home."
Feryx conceded, "We prevailed in our attempt to stop the Nasalics, and in so doing ended the Daran War." He was quiet for a moment. "I guess that is victory."
"Hundreds of lives have been saved," Sefrono added.
Feryx looked again at Dysis. "Yes, but hundreds of lives had already lost."
Dysis clenched her fists. "We should not have stopped at Cathgily! We should be marching through Nasalia even now, making them pay for those lives!"
"I understand why you feel that way," Feryx said gently. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You do not grieve alone, dear niece... I lost a brother when you lost a father."
Dysis glanced up into his sympathetic gaze. "...But?"
"But you cannot replace the loneliness in your heart with hatred."
Sefrono stated, "The Nasalics are worthy of our disdain. They-"
He didn't get a chance to finish. His father spun around and took hold of his Sefrono's arm sternly. "Where did you get such a notion? It shames me to hear such a remark out of you. The Nasalics are an ancient and noble people. I cannot express to you in words the pain that I felt inside," he released his son and placed his clenched fist against his chest, "every time I had to raise my sword against them."
"They were going to invade Moriant, our ally."
Feryx shook his head. "Son, do not make assumptions based on ignorance." He softened the tone of his voice. "We will talk more about this, but not now. Just trust my word," he turned back around to face Dysis as he finished talking, "and know that our conflict with the Knights of Nasalia is over. They should not be considered 'enemies' anymore."
"Yes, father," Sefrono responded humbly.
But Dysis remained quiet for a moment. She looked out at the waves of grass bending to the power of the invisible wind. Finally she asked, "Is it true that the battlefield, the Field of Cathgily, will soon be covered with flowers?"
Feryx nodded. "A rare Saerith Rose was planted in the place of every man that fell that day. A blue rose for every Nasalic, and a white rose for every L'disian."
"Where will my father's rose grow?"
Feryx hesitated, and for a moment he considered not answering. But then he said, "Underneath a lone Piri Tree at the center of the field."
Sefrono quietly dismissed himself. "I will be waiting with the horses," he said.
Feryx then reached into his tunic and withdrew a necklace with a dangling silver pendant. "He wanted me to give this to you."
Dysis accepted it and stared down at the pendant in her palm. Delicate carvings of an unfamiliar style adorned its surface. She lifted it closer to her face, and then noticed the small clasp on its side.
She opened it, and inside was a note...
Six years later, two peasants stand at the head of an army. Vadik Stanslov and Rurik Peytr do not know if the true heir of Zarognia still lives, but they will overthrow the cruel Grulgar... or die trying. With luck, they will free the Archduke and learn of the heir's whereabouts. Zarognia will be free again, and peace will be restored.
o defend yourself."
