Sonata
Trickling away
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- Seen Feb 17, 2025
Spoiler:
The 22 is a prequel to Dreams of a peasant. It takes place somewhere around one thousand years before the events of doap thought I've not made a legitimate timeline yet to nail everything down on (I mean, I did have one at one point but it's disappeared somewhere along the way along with the first few entries that I had to post for this story). I've decided to rethink the progression of doap and will rewrite it in time. It started off with the intro being not what I wanted it to be, and then I decided to just go with it and then I just kept going with it and now I just don't want to look at it so yeah. Not really a good sign I guess. So as of right now I'm putting all that off and my main focus will be on the 22 and their adventures through Gyrah. Then there should be less distractions in doap like when I would go into detail on different things' histories in the middle of something else. So yeah, here goes.
Spoiler:
Character list - listed as introduced
Alessa Dyrian
Sen Dyrian
Jorman Ilinia
Markus Verston
Old man
Young Girl
Elenora Por
Bulging biceps guy
Aaliyah Eriel
Mip Quiston
Odal Vigel
Sailla Mipal
Alessa Dyrian
Sen Dyrian
Jorman Ilinia
Markus Verston
Old man
Young Girl
Elenora Por
Bulging biceps guy
Aaliyah Eriel
Mip Quiston
Odal Vigel
Sailla Mipal
P1. P1.
"My father, how are you feeling this day?" The man's daughter sat at his bedside. She held her hand against his wrinkle-less face. There was warmth, but nothing to be alarmed at. She looked into his light blue eyes, peering past the visage of youth that was his exterior and looking deeper into his mind to gauge his true feelings.
The man smiled at his daughter and brushed his hand against her cheek. "I have been better my dear. These past hundred years have been harder on me as the feather's light wanes. Unfortunately, the phoenix has not reached out to me since our first encounter. It seems that she has lost whatever interest she once held in me."
Alessa frowned. "Don't think such things. Surely she must just be busy in her own dominion or some other such thing. She is a goddess, she most likely has many other mortals to watch over."
The man chuckled lightly. "Don't worry Alessa. There are still many things left that we can do even without her help. However, I doubt the common knight could survive the journey that such a thing necessitates..."
"Don't worry father. Even if you have to send one-hundred knights out, I will go with them and return successful. Have faith in your own daughter. Remember, you and Jorman have both taught me swordsmanship since I was young, and recently I've even become able to best you in battle!"
"Yes, I know my girl. But you must not be naive. Even if you are capable of besting both me and the general in one-on-one combat, the real world does not play so fair. In war there is no honor. Only the living and the dead. And those that live will do whatever it takes to continue on doing so. Regardless of whatever consequences or shame it may bring upon them."
The girl leaned back and laughed. "I am sorry, but if you do have so little faith in me then perhaps we should have a real battle once you get well again? I'll even take on you and Jorman at the same time."
The man sighed and shook his head. "It's that kind of attitude that is the exact reason for my worry. If you always hold your head so far up in the stars then one day someone with real skill will simply walk by and take it off for you. You have much to learn... but know that I am not completely against the thought of you going off on this expedition. Though I do stand by my decision of not allowing you to go alone. Hmm. Yes, perhaps... Alessa, would you go and get Markus? I must seek his advice on this thought."
Alessa cocked her head to the side and looked to her father quizatively. "What is your thought father? Perhaps I could help you without bothering my teacher?"
The man rose up from his laying position and stroked the stubble on his chin. "Perhaps what would be best, is to host a competition. A tournament of sorts, to decide on the members for an expeditionary force strong enough to fend off most of the troubles you might stumble upon. Yes, yes a tournament should be perfect for this. We will put all of our knights in as participants with promise of promotion, and then allow any travelers or townspeople to join in and participate as well. Then whoever I find strong enough to hold their own against the champions which I will select shall be named members of this force."
"But father, if it is your life at stake then why not simply ask whoever signs up for the tournament to join in the ranks of the force? Of course the majority of them might die within the first month, but what good is it to waste our time weeding out the weak when we could already be off on our journey and train them in our spare time along the way?"
The man smiled and locked his gaze in with his daughter's. "Alessa... are you so afraid that you won't be able to hold your own against a common villager that you would sooner see them all perish before the might of a dragon? Your sword and armor will protect you from their mighty spells, but what of the commoners who cannot afford such luxuries? What if the only thing to hold them back from surpassing you is their lack of access to Sen Dyrian's armory? Such is the reason for this tournament. All participants will be equipped with training equipment of equal caliber so as to even the battlefield as much as possible. Which means you won't be able to rely on my relics to carry you through battle, but instead you'll find yourself having to rely on your own abilities for a start. But if you are really so worried that you will fail... I will not force you to join."
Alessa shot up out of her chair, knocking it back as she rose. She glared at the king and furrowed her brow. "I will lose to no one. I will join the tournament and play by your rules. And then when I win every battle without a single bead of sweat on my forehead I will force you to acknowledge me father. Until then, I will be borrowing a set of training gear from your all-mighty armory and set to training myself to my limit. I will force you to see..." the girl kicked the chair, sending it crashing against the wall as she stormed out of the room in disgust. She could not believe the words which her father had been speaking about her. She would show him. She would make him recognize her.
As his daughter stormed out of his room, Sen Dyrian moved to get out of bed. He dangled his legs over the side of the mattress and stifled a laugh. "Still just a child I suppose," he whispered as he thought over the recent conversation he'd had with his daughter. He stood up off of the bed and shuffled over to his wardrobe. He pulled out of it a rather plain-looking robe. It was a dirty gray color and lacked anything that might give off the sense that it belonged to royalty. It was however, the king's most favorite robe and he wore it often when there were to be no visitors. It fell to just slightly above his knees, and was flared open at the chest to show off the radiant feather embedded into his chest.
Sen Dyrian picked up the chair which Alessa had knocked over and put it back in it's place next to his bed. He leaned on it and twisted from side to side popping his back. He straightened back out and let out a deep yawn as a knocking came from the door to his room.
"Who is it?"
"Markus. Alessa told me you wished to see me about promoting a tournament I hear?" A honey-sweet voice came from behind the door.
"Yes, come on in Markus. I believe we've much to discuss before we really get on with the planning of the event."
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