BLUMIU'S QUILL- WRITINGS AND POETRY

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Promise to a Princess Pt.II


Just before reaching the bottom steps, there was silence. No doubt she guessed the game. It was obvious what was coming though much sooner than I expected. Her head darted around the scroll with a shout and with that, the game was lost. Mila and I shrieked at being found out with little delay.

“Oh, boo on you!” I protested, having our fun spoiled.

“Boo on you!” Mila mimicked, dropping down at my side.

Miriam raised a brow and shook her head as if any less was expected. “Seeing as Mila went to answer the door and ends up playing on the desk, which she knows not to do, it’s not hard to guess who’d behind it—not to mention I can always tell when you’re near, Rema.”

Taking notice of her ensemble of a simple yet elaborately designed close-bodied gown of dark blue gracing her shapely figure, a silk mantle draped round her shoulders. In her hair were light-blue ribbons that began the particular fashion, her neck accented with a choker patterned after the dress. Her neckline fell temptuously to a small amount of cleavage, which would not have earned much attention if not for her gracious endowment. Her gold stomacher outlined with black lace before it all was completed by a petal skirt and petticoat.

“You know you could have used the side door, yes?” Miriam chided, “If you keep coming through the front when I’m closed, people will start thinking I’m catering to the soldiers.”

True, I considered. “Wait. I thought you were never given the key for it.”

Miriam quickly remembered as she thumbed her bottom lip. “Oh, right. Touché. Well, I removed the lock and just warded it. Now, why am I staring at this time of day, anyhow?”

“That doesn’t answer itself? Perfect welcome, anyhow.”

“To be honest, I’m relieved you didn’t forget what today was. Least I know your priorities were in order…” It was almost as quick a change as she had snuck up on us, her demeanor switching entirely soon as she set her sights on me.

I figured as much and for a moment was hoping I’d avoid the one thing sharper than her fangs; her piercing tongue. “That’s fine, but you’re going to have to take it back once you see what’s in store,” I assured Miriam. “It was more than for a good reason.”

“Reason is either the progress of the wise or muddle of fools.” Miriam remarked dismissively.
“I like the way you argue. Even when you do, you still smile at each other.” Mila said looking up at us approvingly.

“That’s how people that love each other argue, love. Now if you love me, you’ll finish getting ready so we aren’t late.”

“Oh, okay.” Mila submitted apologetically and scurried away. She turned to me just partway up the steps, likely remembering her gift and grinned before dashing on.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to make whatever you have planned. Why not just give it to me tonight, unless…”

“Not that kind of gift,” I finished, irritated with my poor timing. Being impulsive is something the military stamped out of me, but this was different. I haven’t forgotten that adventurous little girl that dreamed of this life, however different than imagined. “I’ve never asked you to change your plans before, not even for the smallest thing. This time, I have to show you before anyone else. You’ve wanted it a long time and it’s only fitting. We can still drop of Mila since mama is at my place.”

“She is?” Miriam was puzzled as to what I was hinting at, drumming her fingers on her hip. She studied the pendulum clock for a few seconds, then the floor, back to me. With a shrug she sighed, “Fine then. If you’re going to dress it up in such a way, it better be worth it.”

“Don’t seem the ungrateful sort,” I smirked, more than delighted. “Unless what you going out for is that important—”

“I mean…it’s really not. Likely another loss as before…” Miriam murmuring the last part.

Before I could ask further about it, Mila bounded down the stairs in her long feather-patterned shawl and parasol.

“All set then?” she asked Mila, to which she nodded.

“Yes, maerta.”

We met the waiting carriage by the bridge and dropped Mila by the commune gate. “Tell your gandmama we’ll be back before evening. Oh, since she familiar with it, tell her the milk, butter and cooking wine are in the pantry hatch.”

“I will!” she cheered.

“You remember which building it is, yes?” Miriam called after her.

“Yes, come back soon!” She waved goodbye as she bounced away with her parasol dancing overhead.
A break in the heavy gray clouds downcast the ember sunlight over the city, while darker ones linger still a ways in the distance. Rain ran down the roofing while those tacking shelter underneath carried on their conversations and hurried their business before the heavier rains came. I could see the round dome of St. Petro’s Cathedral enshrined at the base with small spire cones and cross affixed copula sitting atop the main dome.

North Saggio was situated below Esparasa Mountains, a long chain of ridges separating southern Catheel from the north, a natural defense only accessible through Carogne Desert, three passes guarded by forts and the more vulnerable western side bordered by Rayne. South Saggio is connected by the Edige river two hundred breadths down and a port extension of the capitol. Besides the political split, North Saggio combines Isalmian and Dalomos, in aesthetic and domestic culture.

I remembered to ask if she was going back to one of the theatres to audition even after all she went through.

“Are you asking that now after whisking me elsewhere?” she asked rhetorically.

“You know why I’m asking, Miriam. I know that’s the one thing you’ve wanted more than anything, but really? It’s only been five moons.”

If the world were a different place, there are four definite professions that Miriam could secure without fail, though I could say that of many things she shows expertise. None is exaggeration and if simply swayed by my affection for her, I’d agree to a point; her cooking. I’ve had the opportunity to eat the finest cooking within the palace walls, abroad and at my mother’s table. It’d be fair to say you can’t compare someone with a hundred plus years developing their culinary skills handed down…but I will anyhow.

What has been understood as second nature for Penumbra and one of their primary fears. Their innate prowess with magic. Unlike cooking, this I was able to understand, but have reached my mental limit. Even though as an umbra it exceeds normal huema, it is still dwarfed by what I sense from Miriam and even her mother, those many years ago. Naturally they would be the leading scholars in the arte, but there would sooner be hunts than ever that be the case.

Being of a royal bloodline and woman of Arcturus, mastery of the palette was an essential skill a mother graced her family and guests. I remember Cachusa telling me how she hated it until she married and Miriam picked up her father’s love for food. Descending from the man that harnessed the element of the abyss, magik was the Arcturus inheritance, birthright and obligation. However, seaming was uniquely passed down from mother to daughter.

Uncommon for a Penumbran noble to pick up a skill primary among the heritage of artisans in their culture, it was something Miriam’s mother taught herself. Again, I am far from boasting when I say I’ve never known the quality she can weave even with the poorest materials. My uniform was designed by the best Isalme has to offer, but even when the eye of Princess Aosta notices the difference, it says something. Aside from Miriam’s business, she does receive commission requests from not only the highness herself, but other noblewoman and men I’ve promoted her work to.

With all that said, singing is the one thing that truly is her own. She would tell me it was just something she did playing by herself, repeating the nursery and children songs Cachusa sang to her. I’d imagine it was more than just a tune if her parents took notice young as six, thenceforth encouraged. Opportunities at home gatherings presented themselves, yet she was never old enough to perform onstage. She said she was promised a part in a play for when she was at least twelve, but that never came.

It would seem that experience has haunted her ever since, forming Viktoria in her mind to harbor those memories. I knew them both and grew to understand their distinctions. Part of me wished the same, to escape what Miriam herself was innocent of. We had only but recently made up the lost time since we parted ways and less Miriam regained her whole self, but with her past as a prominent courtesan…The irony of it was the same men she auditioned happened to be former clientele, but she refused to blackmail her way onto the stage.

I would rectify this, too...
Over Moon


Goodbye comes abruptly
“I feel nothing” were your words of parting
“No pain” I echoed, but left me empty
As I sift through the stardust from your eyes
If over you, I could see this through
In the light, becoming brand new
Farewell goes unheeded
Knowing this futile pursuit’s ending
But keep chasing the fleeting memories
If for you, I would not let go
In the end, vanishing over moon
Your sanguine kiss complete with a wish
Never again to be alone
Together we’ll roam
Till night breaks into day
I can think of nothing more than this
Never again on your own
For the loneliness we are prone
Will scatter into day
Goodbye comes abruptly
“I love you” were our words of parting
“Let’s go” I whispered, leaving the world empty
As I brush aside the stardust from your eyes
If with you, I can see this through
In the light, we become brand new
For the words gone unwritten
On your heart I etch this ending
As we keep chasing childhood memories
If with you, I won’t let go
In the end, vanishing over moon
"Penumbra have no poor class in their society"

How is this viewed? Unless you have no classes there is always someone at either end of the set. With no classes you still can say who is doing better or is higher.
I guess Penumbra simply do not categorize and what you have is what you have and even a poor person (by our definition/observation) has the right to gain as much as they need to live a comfortable life.
However, you said poor only so I think other classes exist. Middle and rich only?

Maybe like a tribe sort of thing. Leaders and anyone else. Everyone contributing in some way. Collectively.

Probably overthinking it but not sure how should I view this :D
author=MadJak91
"Penumbra have no poor class in their society"

How is this viewed? Unless you have no classes there is always someone at either end of the set. With no classes you still can say who is doing better or is higher.
I guess Penumbra simply do not categorize and what you have is what you have and even a poor person (by our definition/observation) has the right to gain as much as they need to live a comfortable life.
However, you said poor only so I think other classes exist. Middle and rich only?

Maybe like a tribe sort of thing. Leaders and anyone else. Everyone contributing in some way. Collectively.

Probably overthinking it but not sure how should I view this :D


I haven't gone into the bare bones of building every society/kingdom/race fully, but they do have what is considered a middle and upper; I do have to add that there is a divide starting to form in Kolonia in which a poor citizenship can develop, but that's because the system Lithavania was based upon is being abandoned.
They have an elder system in which experience and wisdom is honored, no matter their social standing; a commoner elder may not have the wealth and connections of nobility, but they are respected the same outside those respects. No noble child can disrespect the farmer of 400 years.

They also implement wages increase for those of certain years, so there is equal earnings in the artisan crafts and a set among aristocracy. There is a way to earn more income through the laurel system; if your contribution to their occupation and society as a whole goes beyond the standard, they are awarded based upon it; that is determined by associations, customers, peers and employers. However, it can't be based on one consideration alone, but multiple accounts. That promotes not only growth, but also a fellowship among the people.
That could be abused easily, but the mentality of Penumbra is't the same in wanting riches. They live very long lifespans, so they seek more than materialsism and luxury is looked at from an artistic perspective in surrounding themselves with the skill and knowledge afforded them. Vanity or greed doesn't have rewards or acceptance collectively, so it may exist, but has no merit. Shows a lack of wisdom.

There is also the Crimson Rule, which are the laws they are governed upon that enforces certain civil responsibilities, but that's another matter. Really it is a sheltered society that works within itself and has to be carefully managed with outside interaction (during Lithavania's time). It wasn't the easiest to maintain since all creatures on Nis are carnal by nature, but I suppose generations of living a certain way made it easier than for others. They aren't exactly unique in this either, since some other races live long periods too, just not as long.

Once those walls started to come down with the Gravuzie plague and nobility fortifying themselves behind more self-serving tactics and favors to Red Council, and people begin leaving Kolonia, that is when new experiences bring out what they had been protected from.

You're not overthinking since its close, but a lot does go into it lol! Mentality, morality of the whole plays a big role in how civilizations develop, so I'm keeping that in mind while figuring out mechanics of governments to; related but have differences in execution.
Promise to a Princess Pt.III


“It’s not that. I heard a rumor that the Royal Hall was putting together an adaption of Degula pes Mara.”

“Wasn’t that…?”

Miriam gave an affirming nod. “It is, without a single Penumbra, of course. I was going down there to ask there how exactly they acquired the rights if true.”

“What do you plan on doing if so?”

“Have you connect me to someone that can do something about it, my dear~” Miriam smirked, “Still, perhaps it is a good thing you delayed my going down there. The production isn’t even until Orewoll, so I shouldn’t be too hasty.”

Normal circumstances only would require a public emissary to handle this. However, this was not normal with Nisrian involved. “I can ask for documents saying they purchased the rights. Either that or all you may need is a chronicler; Penumbran and Huema, of course.” She seemed to acknowledge yet stayed quiet, “Or we could sneak in and sabotage the performance!”

“Ha!” she burst out, catching herself before drawing attention of those passing by the carriage, “Was that from one of the first books I had you read?”

Winning that crescent smile of those rouge lips for the remainder of the ride, our conversation journeyed back to my childhood and the one she was able to relive. The sun was swallowed again by a long blanket of clouds pushing in from the north as our couch made down the hills and bends of North Saggio’s streets. An acquaintance of the driver called out to him, giving him no more time than a short salute as we passed over Salamone River Bridge, the channel waters flowing tranquilly for the moment.

“We’re taking the main road?” inquired Miriam, peering out from her window.

“My manteen’s by the gate.” I pointed out to where feisty Romerso stood, awaiting proudly.

As the wheels ground to a halt, I looked out the window to see the grandeur of the Teurullian Gate. The sunbaked walls were dressed with the Isalmian Korbo, raised on its hinds and black mane in the wind, crossed by sword and staff set over the Martyrtrix signet. Standing at over 25 qesa , the outer-wall encompassing North Saggio had to two gates, the other being the Vertichlia Gate on the eastern end. All along the barbican to the sentry towers there was housed a prototype ballista, a siege-bow per manned tower, infantry and mages along the ramparts, leaving the 10 qesa tall iron lattice portcullis at center.

Paying the fair as the coach saluted me off, Delios attempted the same, slipping down the stairs. Jostled, but still on his feet, he maintained his composure, save for hearing Miriam snickering from behind.

“Lady Demos Rema! A good after noon to you. Departing now?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “We’ll be back before dark.”

His eyes diverted behind me to see the company joining me. Delios gandered in fixation before snapping him back to reality.

“Are you going to open the gate, or stare like a lecher all day?” I said flatly, to which Delios cleared his throat and signaled a man in the barbican hole above.

“Opening the gate!” he shouted as the locks and heavy but seamless operation began the parting of the gate, the bars receding crosswise with the uniform grinding of large chains within the walls. While it raised, Miriam and I retrieved Romerso from the stable hold.

I stroked the slick mane and coat that earned a gentle nuzzle. “’Told you I’d be back soon, boy,” I lifted myself onto Romerso’s saddle and patted his thick neck again affectionately. Then I noticed he and Miriam were locked in a stare down. I couldn’t help but laugh. “You two can’t be serious?”

“…He’s not going to throw me off like before?” Miriam murmured between tensed lips.

“Come now! That was before. Last time he let you ride well enough, right?” though Miriam didn’t look the least bit convinced.

“Only because you were there.” she reminded me.

“And I’m here now, now stop making him nervous.”

“He’s the one eyeing me.” She eased herself aside him cautiously and hissed, “Remember what I told you last time. You toss me off in this dress, and you’ll be the third manteen I’ve had for supper; balls and all!”

Once on our way, the mountains were at our back as we strode into the open valley. Green sloping hills continued through the misty day and hid the greater knolls beyond. The short rainy season was underway and Isalme’s citizens were beginning their transition for the cold moving its way in. I had asked mama if she could hunt a red crown for the coholli mushrooms I had bought at market, both of which are available around this time.

The pitter-patter of rain falling on Miriam’s umbrella amplified the melody playing on the petrichor earth around us. That was very much in the spirit of something Miriam would say, reminding me of a song she played on another drizzly afternoon.

“Think you could write a song about this? The smell of the rain and earth mingling together, galloping along the quiet roads?” I peered ‘round my shoulder as she leaned forward.

“A song?” Miriam considered, gazing out over the crescent mounds. “I don’t see why not.” she hummed, pressing close.

She hummed a tune as we passing through the small village of Tino. I pointed out the similarities it had to Notte in its hard run, but pleasant people. The unmistakable scent of wet dung and hay took me back to that small plot of land. Part of me thought I’d forgotten those days in favor of the dream I chased. Cordial waves and a few salutes met us along the way while the village preoccupied itself with preparing for the nourishing of the land.

Corpirum wood smoke wafted from the village elder’s chimney and dissipated into the capricious sky. They would commune there for warmth and supper to wait out the weather. I caught the nostalgic scent of vegetable stew from the latched open window of the kitchen. There was also a canid’s mangy odor within I picked up before it sensed us and began yapping desperately.

“Damnable things.” Miriam hissed. Certain animals were sensitive to presence of those with strong abyssal aura, canids being one. Miriam had a particular hatred of them for other reasons.

Coming to patchwork farmland the sky grew dark and heavy as if the clouds would soon break, the wind picking up with a chill. Miriam faced her parasol to the wind to keep it steady, but left us exposed to the cold drizzle.

“Are we almost there?” moaned Miriam. It was all she could do to keep her hair from flailing back in her face. Making use of her mantle, she tied it about her head.

I steered Romerso at the edge of a grove where the trees provided us shelter. It was not far from a basin irrigating the fields. She eased back down behind me, to which I could tell she was confused as to why that direction. All that had been there was a ridge overlooking the lagoon.

“Since we’re almost there, I need you to close your eyes until I say,” Miriam hummed to herself curiously as I turned to see if she had peeked. “What is it?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” She tilted her head about, her shut eyes still looking as if searching about the hillside.

Spurring Romerso upward the incline. By luck the winds died down and the sky held itself together a bit longer. I felt a tingling in my fingers gripping the slick reigns once the silhouette came into view. Proudly it stood against the streak of pale light of the horizon and unwavering against the looming clouds above. Rows of vanga trees ushered us down the one steep slope and up the final stretch of fresh trodden path...
Promise to a Princess Pt.IV


Taking a long drag of air, Miriam caught wind of something suddenly. “Why do I smell cordelians and roses? Smells like a garden,” She prodded my hips playfully. “Don’t tell me you planted one all the way out here?” she laughed.

“Should’ve guessed you’d be able to smell them from here.” I replied cheerily.

Romerso slowed to a trot alongside the wall drapping with fragrant permissfa and winter cordelians, the same Miriam picked up downwind. I took Miriam’s hand as I dismounted, passing on the reign as I opened the iron-gate. Straightaway Miriam opened her eyes in what appeared to be shock, fixated on me intensely.

“Don’t open them yet, Miriam,” I clamored, hoping she wouldn’t turn back to glance over the wall.

She only stared without a word for nearly a minute. Finally the soft skin of her throat constricting as she swallowed down hard and dismounted. I hardly noticed the weather pick up again until Miriam placed her umbrella over me. Untying her mantle and leading me by the hand, she near dragged me up the path to the manor. Miriam stopped once we were in the court of the villa, hedged about by walls of green, line about by rows of rose bushes.

Romerso followed behind until heading for the stalls on his own. This was the first time I’d seen Miriam in such awe, feeling a tingling sensation coursing from her into me. A warmth replaced the moist, shivering air. Before her was the entranceway she imagined centuries ago, brought to life. The stone path was patterned after relics found at ancient Lithavanian sites I dug up with some research.

I followed her gaze to the three peaks of the ternary roofing, tipped with verdes spires, customary for even homes in the underworld. Constructed with height imposing and striking to those minded in beauty, a threatening sign a future marring the landscape with such architecture if “the demons” were allowed to flourish. To me and to Miriam, this would be a monument that such dreaded times had come with devotion as its cornerstone. We came round the main path, the pointed arch doorway also magnified in height.

Engraved with detailed engravings of blossoming vinery, suns, moons and unfamiliar patterns. One procured chunk of marbut, a slab I bartered from Dormwell Falls right at the border between Isalme and Rayne was all of the black rock I could add to the villa. Only a king’s coffer could afford to transport such material primarily found to the north. This made the door to the villa, all other entrances of polished timber. Miriam’s original design was pure marbut where I had the choice between sharl stone like most noble abodes or white berram, which was advised by the architect, Josen Vlaven.

By the doors were two winged figures (one with a scepter, the other with what looked like a glaive, their faces hidden beneath ornate masks more resembling helms. According to Miriam’s notes, they represented the male and female lineage of nobility. Sitting above the door was a blind-arcade with insets housing small **** initials for each of us.

More arches for the tracery windows elaborately designed with what’s called rozen burtz or “rose bursts”. Inside, two floors made up living space while outside it could be seen to be three, not including the cellar/storage area. There was so much to Miriam’s sketches that I didn’t understand, but the masons seemed to put them to fashion with ease. I’d suspect there was a relish in not just fair wages, but pleasure in what they knew.

“Oh, Rema Merloci. What have you done?” her breath seemed short as the words escaped just as easily under the chorus of rain.

“Just what I said I would, Good Lady Gavrielle.”

“Can we go in?” she asked, her eyes eager while body trembling ever so.

Smiling, I took her arm in mine and took her to the doors.

“Why did you stop?”

“Well, isn’t there some customary thing you do for your home?”

Miriam’s expression returned to a familiar, sarcastic one as she grabbed hold the handle. “We open the door.” her smirk breaking into a brimming grin as she did so.

“Miriam,” I interjected, pausing her. “Before anything else, there is something you need to see. Just follow me.”

Before she could become immersed in anything, I took Miriam through the entrance hall and behind the u-shaped staircase. “No, keep up.” I repeated as she stopped several times to examine her designs actuated. Down a few steps led to an elaborately designed hall, much different from the rest of the manor. The way was lit by parallel placed lamps, the walls hung with replicated Lithavanian and Kolonian paintings while the barreled ceiling was covered in the same.

“I don’t remember this.” she said.

“That’s because you didn’t include it.” I smiled.

At the end of this hall the stairs flared down to a pair of engraved mahogany doors where drama masks rested either side. It was then Miriam began to panic.

“Oh! Oh no! I’m going to puke. My stomach, Rema! Oooh, my stomach!” she whined, beginning to pace back and forth.

“Miriam, just open it.” I chuckled. This was more along the lines of what I was expecting.
She actually did appear faint and required a little support to keep her upright.

“I can’t believe you…I can’t believe you did this. I hate you, I hate so much, Rema.” Miriam continued to rant, attempting to fan the tears back as they pooled at the brims.

I kissed her then pushed open the doors; there before her was the modestly sized theatre. Seven rows of fine leather seats, three balcony seats complete with binoculars and complementary wine. The dome in the center of the ceiling continued the mural of tales while dotted with prism lights. I thought up something unique for it as well, but that would come for a clear night sky. Then there was the main attraction, the stage.

“It’s empty.” I said, turning to Miriam.

The dams had finally broken, but her countenance was brimming in the soft golden light. She probed her parasol by the corner and stepped forward into the room slowly. A deep exhale escaped her as her eyes fixated on the heavy satin curtain on the stage.

“A lavation…”

“What?” I asked, unclear as to what she whispered.

“This place needs a lavation. In fact, so does the master chambers and whatever else room happened to pass through.” she purred, biting her lip as she stared intently at me.

Part of me should have seen that coming, another part was taken off-guard. “Oh,” was about the only thing I could muster as she pressed close. “Well then, happy birth-day.”

I am dumb. I can subscribe to topics... Good to know.

Good lord. Did she get her home reconstructed as a birthday present? Or "just" the theater extra? Or her home AND the extra? :D
Best present ever! She should get a space station next :D
author=MadJak91
I am dumb. I can subscribe to topics... Good to know.

Good lord. Did she get her home reconstructed as a birthday present? Or "just" the theater extra? Or her home AND the extra? :D
Best present ever! She should get a space station next :D


Don't worry. I forget that little detail all the time.

Haha, it was technically her ideal home and Rema had it built with slight additions; the theatre room being one ^^ Considering how long it might have taken from past birthdays, speed the masons worked at, its likely the best gift she could give...ever lol! Theatre was one, training room/armory is two, stable is three, with of course number of rooms and accommodations like that being part of it also.

Lol! There might not be any space stations for a very long time in that world, so the farthest that could go is an observatory.
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