"So long as a daughter of Arlan's blood bestrides the throne of Arctra, this land will neither fail nor fall, and shall be forever blessed."
So spaketh the Pythia, Oracle of Thalan, at the shrine of Hano, in the days of Arlan the Wise, first Queen of Arctra.
And thus did it remain, centuries uncounted, until madness blighted the bloodline of the queens, turning kindness to cruelty, wisdom to insanity, counsel to enemy, and leaving the way open for one without bloodline or claim to seize the throne and Sword for herself.
Those were dark times.
Talaera, Queen of Arctra, had fallen into madness as her years advanced, her mind and body poisoned by the influence of foolish advisors who thought to challenge the sanctity of the prophecy. Velasca, the child taken into the Queen's household to be companion and adopted sister to Talaera's own daughters, had seized the advantage, taking for herself the Sword of Arlan and with it, the throne of Arctra itself.
She cast the old queen from her seat of power, presiding over the execution of Talaera and all her female kin. Any who could claim the right of blood, the right of succession from Arlan the Wise, the first Queen of Arctra, were slaughtered on sight, their families torn apart, their homes defiled. Minor nobles fell to the blade for even a single drop of blood that might give them such a claim. Over the span of a single month, every princess of the blood fell into darkness, their place usurped by a woman who bore no claim but that of companionship.
All save one. Arian, third daughter of Talaera, was with child when the killings began, and not even the usurper would dare risk the gods' wrath by harming a woman blessed in such a way. Together with her husband, the noble Lord Farus, Arian fled the capital of Loscar, weighed down with the heaviness of her womb. It was known, even then, that she was to bear twins, and as all her line had done in the centuries before, we believed that she would bear one male, one female. A new Queen, and a Chosen Man to defend her claim when the time came.
Velasca, the usurper, knew this. She, who had been taken from the streets of Loscar and brought into Queen Talaera's household as companion to the child Arian; she knew better than any other the prophecy that stood against her, the purity of the princess' bloodline. She did not strike directly against Arian, but sent her army to harry their escape, to force them faster than was wise, through rougher country and wilder weather than any expectant mother should dare.
Yet it was not enough to force a miscarriage upon Arian, and within days, she and her noble husband, Farus, had found refuge in the northern city of Phalion, the traditional seat of power for the Queen's brother. Velasca laid siege to the city, killing many in her wish to have any rival destroyed before her violence could be used to blight her own reign of a land never bequeathed to her.
It was here, in this ancient keep at the heart of Phalion, that our story began, in blood and misery and the promise of light after the darkness had fallen ...
- an extract from the Book of Sight
So spaketh the Pythia, Oracle of Thalan, at the shrine of Hano, in the days of Arlan the Wise, first Queen of Arctra.
And thus did it remain, centuries uncounted, until madness blighted the bloodline of the queens, turning kindness to cruelty, wisdom to insanity, counsel to enemy, and leaving the way open for one without bloodline or claim to seize the throne and Sword for herself.
Those were dark times.
Talaera, Queen of Arctra, had fallen into madness as her years advanced, her mind and body poisoned by the influence of foolish advisors who thought to challenge the sanctity of the prophecy. Velasca, the child taken into the Queen's household to be companion and adopted sister to Talaera's own daughters, had seized the advantage, taking for herself the Sword of Arlan and with it, the throne of Arctra itself.
She cast the old queen from her seat of power, presiding over the execution of Talaera and all her female kin. Any who could claim the right of blood, the right of succession from Arlan the Wise, the first Queen of Arctra, were slaughtered on sight, their families torn apart, their homes defiled. Minor nobles fell to the blade for even a single drop of blood that might give them such a claim. Over the span of a single month, every princess of the blood fell into darkness, their place usurped by a woman who bore no claim but that of companionship.
All save one. Arian, third daughter of Talaera, was with child when the killings began, and not even the usurper would dare risk the gods' wrath by harming a woman blessed in such a way. Together with her husband, the noble Lord Farus, Arian fled the capital of Loscar, weighed down with the heaviness of her womb. It was known, even then, that she was to bear twins, and as all her line had done in the centuries before, we believed that she would bear one male, one female. A new Queen, and a Chosen Man to defend her claim when the time came.
Velasca, the usurper, knew this. She, who had been taken from the streets of Loscar and brought into Queen Talaera's household as companion to the child Arian; she knew better than any other the prophecy that stood against her, the purity of the princess' bloodline. She did not strike directly against Arian, but sent her army to harry their escape, to force them faster than was wise, through rougher country and wilder weather than any expectant mother should dare.
Yet it was not enough to force a miscarriage upon Arian, and within days, she and her noble husband, Farus, had found refuge in the northern city of Phalion, the traditional seat of power for the Queen's brother. Velasca laid siege to the city, killing many in her wish to have any rival destroyed before her violence could be used to blight her own reign of a land never bequeathed to her.
It was here, in this ancient keep at the heart of Phalion, that our story began, in blood and misery and the promise of light after the darkness had fallen ...
- an extract from the Book of Sight