Scardrac
Felsummer
The Crown Prince
———————————Der Kronprinz, Sigmund von Hallon, is the only son of the
absent Kaiser and Kaiserine, Audwine I and Josephine I. Before he was born, there
was a heavy burden of expectancy thrust upon him, as it had been thrust upon all
heirs of the Empire. To fall in line and uphold your duty, guide the Gottland much
like the sun that graced it upon each passing day. To give unto your people a bounty
of brightness, warmth, and safety, but to retire with blinding ignorance of the darkness
left behind. Such is the way of the Kaiser, and cursed be the deviant who breaks this
cycle.
———————————A life of faux opulence was gifted unto him in at the grace of
the serfs that called the north home far before he was born. His parents lacked land
of their own, and so his second family gifted him the life he could. It was a warm and
humble life, but not without hardships, as he would soon come to find. At only ten
summers old, a harrowing blight of rot, disease, and death swept and swallowed the
continent. Sigmund watched as couriers came with worry spread over their features,
but were cast away with nary a concern from the Kaiser. Each passing fortnight, a new
courier would come, and never the last. Each more and more sunken-cheeked and
frail of limb than the last. Only when no courier came to warn the Kaiser, and only
when Oren's crops and livestock fell ill, did he find it fit to abandon his people, his
son, and all he had overseen since the taking of his crown. Only a passing remark
was given to his only loyalist knight, Maubray D'Evereaux, was given. "Protect the heir.
Guide him in our ways. Do not sow deviance in the boy, lest this blight follow you."
———————————And thus Sigmund and Maubray rode from the only place
he has ever known. To find their home in one township to another, leaving at the
first whiff of rot. Most times, they camped in the forests, or far off the roadside, only
to leave once all sign of wildlife ceased to be, or when lawless refugees sought their
belongings. Time was the greatest bounty they had, and Maubray saw fit that it would
not be put to waste. When not fleeing or fighting for survival, Maubray upheld the
wishes of the absent Kaiser, teaching Sigmund in the ways of a man, in the ways of
a Kaiser. To fight, to read, to speak, to write, and to lead. But these were not the only
lessons taught. A life without belonging, a life without purpose, was not a life to love,
but one that must be endured. To hunt, to fish, to shoot, to survive. Maubray made this
Sigmund's way, but was always a shine of hope for the distraught boy. Whenever the
young Prince fell to his sadness, the words of his mentor always graced his ear. "Civility
shall return, and you shall be prince. Take with you all I have taught you, and have faith that God
has a plan for you. May you be a rising sun for this dying world."
The Fall from Grace
The parting words of Sigmund's mentor seeded a powerful
confidence within the boy, one so grand that it would lead him to hold no quarter
to earn the favor of God. He would soon consider himself a saint on the horizon. A
raging wildfire warrior, God's very own prince. He was indeed dubbed prince by
the grave of Synnove, but he was not without sin, not without flaw. Wrath, control,
and vengeance, each a singing side of darkness the accompanied his blessing from
God. But such a gift was not given without payment, he should soon find. Each
step taken, each word spoken, each thought had. Every avenue of his life was no
longer his to control. He was destined to burn himself with his brash nature,
and thus God deemed it necessary to burn him herself. A painful mark upon his
palm, a dark red sun. "This mark shall be your penance, so all may know that even
my most devout are not without sin."———————————————————
His scorning, he told himself was deserved. For what could
come of him if he were to question the word of God? Surely, she is ever wise, and
ever loving, he thought to himself.
The parting words of Sigmund's mentor seeded a powerful
confidence within the boy, one so grand that it would lead him to hold no quarter
to earn the favor of God. He would soon consider himself a saint on the horizon. A
raging wildfire warrior, God's very own prince. He was indeed dubbed prince by
the grave of Synnove, but he was not without sin, not without flaw. Wrath, control,
and vengeance, each a singing side of darkness the accompanied his blessing from
God. But such a gift was not given without payment, he should soon find. Each
step taken, each word spoken, each thought had. Every avenue of his life was no
longer his to control. He was destined to burn himself with his brash nature,
and thus God deemed it necessary to burn him herself. A painful mark upon his
palm, a dark red sun. "This mark shall be your penance, so all may know that even
my most devout are not without sin."———————————————————
His scorning, he told himself was deserved. For what could
come of him if he were to question the word of God? Surely, she is ever wise, and
ever loving, he thought to himself.
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