As Above, So Below

[Pharaoh]

As the fileted fish were replaced with new specimens, the knives got to work and Arkænyn sauntered toward Janus. Behind him, the cleavers began to slice ham steaks from the hog. He strolled past one of the ex-senator's slightly bleeding shoulders, leaning in to speak softly.

"My question for you is simple: In all of your family, who do you treasure the most?" He rounded his back, and came around the other side.

"Is it your wife? One of your children? Your oh-so-promising nephew, perhaps? Who is it?" Arkænyn shrugged, his expression as cavalier as could be. Under other circumstances his faint smile might have even seemed cordial.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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The devastated ex-senator only anticipated bad things to come, but given how markedly bizarre this audience had been from the presentation up until now, and given how frazzled his mind was now that he stood unguarded, he couldn't hope to predict what would come next. He looked at the knives as they chopped, his gaze fixated on them because they were stable, predictable in pattern, as they gutted fish and sliced meat. But then in his peripherals, he saw Arkænyn move.

Janus did not dare move himself. He stood stone still as the young princeps approached, and what words came from his lips combined into a question. A strange question, given the circumstances. His mind was aflutter with how to answer it. Part of him did want to say his wife. He loved her. He loved the immediate family he made with her; he loved all of his kin– his children, his siblings, cousins, nephews, nieces, so on. Truly, he did.

But here, he could only list one. And so he would close his eyes and take a breath, then upon reopening them, state one word: "Æros."

To Arkænyn, he would both look and sound dazed.

He'd started just wanting to prime the boy to be his successor, his attachment somewhat wary at first– but Æros proved mutable, willing to grow and listen, and as they spent more time together, he'd come to develop a familial love for the boy that he just didn't share with anyone else. Of course, he had not and likely would never admit this to Æros himself, nor had he ever planned to state this to anyone else, such as it was, but that didn't make it any sense not true.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Pharaoh]

Arkænyn eyed him with a fierce, probing intensity for a few moments, then broke into a light snigger.

"Would that my uncles were half so doting as you." He clapped his hands together, turned to face his meat counter and watched his hands-free handiwork for a moment.

"Very well. Æros will find a pretty body, as we planned, and then... Oh, wait! Here's a thought, why don't we just use another of your treasures for his vessel? I hear there's a thing in the desert about sacrificing firstborns, isn't there?" He would pause to cast another penetrating gaze toward Janus, who would feel his Symphony scoured, plumbed for clarification.

"Oh, I know such commands didn't work out so well for the Cælians, but colour me a risktaker. Your firstborn will play host to Æros as he assumes a coveted position in my court. Not the council, of course, he shall be ourrrr..." He spun around and pointed to the pig carcass, "Food taster!" The notion seemed to fill the Prince Regent with glee, judging from the broad grin he wore as he turned back round to regard the senator.

"Such an honour, no? Albeit not so great an honour as he might have enjoyed if you hadn't shamed me. I only hope that your family never embarrasses me again. I do have so many sly enemies, you know, and when the palace is in turmoil dealing with public relations scandals caused by ungrateful would-be subjects, oversights tend to occur... I would hate for you to lose your favourite nephew and your firstborn son in one fell swoop if something sinister slipped into my supper."

Concluding another pair of filets and slicing off a big chunk of the ham, he would release his hold upon all the blades and smile to Janus.

"Don't just stand around looking busy, cooks! Wrap up this meat and fish for our guest to take home with him." The servants would rush to comply,

"And tell me, Janus... who will supplant you as Paterfamilias once you are retired and your firstborn plays host to the halfbreed nephew you prefer over him? Does your family observe the draconic tradition of primogeniture, or do you tend to adopt successors based upon supposed merit?" He inquired, as he untied his apron and slid it over his head, then laying the bloody fabric over Janus' shoulder. He would feel the pig's blood dripping into his own open wound as Arkænyn paced away.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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Mercurial– yes, that was, certainly, the most apt term he'd heard with regards to Arkænyn princeps. And despite the apparent venom in his words and expressions at points, he was very reasonable, merciful, even, given the circumstances. But can one be both merciful and still cruel?

He blinked at the princeling's first comment– he knew nothing of the interpersonal relations of royalty, but given the bitter way the boy seemed to comment about his mother and now his uncles, he got the impression that Arkænyn was not shown a lot of love in his upbringing for much else aside from his blood. A shame, that, because such upbringings can result in…rebellious, unstable children as they grow older. Æros was similar with his mother prior to the point Janus gave up his silent truce to not intervene with his sister's affairs.

But then as the boy continued, the stoic ex-senator would visibly cringe– both from the princeps' words and the intrusion to his Symphony, one which he brooked without resistance. He knew Æros and Palæmon were close at this point, but they were both independent men with very different lives. Palæmon, in particular, wanted nothing to do with politics whereas at this point, Æros was the opposite. And now, they'd have to share bodies, with Palæmon being made to play second fiddle to another in his own flesh. This could end in absolute disaster if the two didn't find a way to achieve some sort of harmony– Æros was sentimental. Even if he gained the skill enough to fully suppress his cousin, would he ever do it? And in truth, Janus hoped that he would not.

And Janus did love his son. It's just that…Palæmon lacked the sort of galvanized ambition that he was able to stoke in Æros. Where one was content to live happily in the company of only the flora in his gardens, the other now wanted far more– more for himself, more for his kin, more of Solunarium. He loved them both, but that difference drew him more to Æros.

The veiled threat about poisoning did not go unheard, and was met with a soft exhalation, but no resistance.

Janus' body would tense as Arkænyn stalked by him, placing the apron over his shoulder, but he dared not move– he wouldn't, not until he was told to do so.

"The position of Paterfamilias has traditionally been passed by merit in Gens Sælyan," he'd reply to the princeps' pointed question.

"My kin are oft split between the political and more whimsical pursuits. Primogeniture alone could easily result in somebody both unwilling and wholly incompetent taking the position," he'd clarify. "It has, for generations, been a decision made by the current Paterfamilias who it is that will supplant him-- or her, I suppose. There have been women as Materfamilias in the past." His answer was given with as much stability as he could muster, but so used was he with using Mesmer to stabilize himself that doing so with nothing was unpleasant.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Pharaoh]

"Well, it seems your attempts at meritocracy haven't exactly culled the family leadership of incompetence, have they? Sentiment is such a dangerous thing, that way. Founders fuck me, am I really giving advice to a man who's lived ten of my lifetimes? And needs it?" Arkænyn chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, obviously don't make any big announcements without running things by me. I have half a mind to choose your successor myself, but that just seems tedious, so there'll be none of that." He glanced over to the counter, making sure the cooks were wrapping the meat as he'd ordered. He smiled, noticing the chef's expression of surprise at the quality of the prince's technique.

"This conversation never happened, understood? Nothing I have said... whether whimsical or legally binding is yours to declare to another soul outside of those it impacts. And the same goes for them. Every word of mine you share will be a burden upon them that hear it. I make my own proclamations, yours is to obey. Now then... take your fish, take your pork, and be on your way." He paused, frowning, and throwing up his hands in incredulity.

"Bloody hell, now I'm the imbecile." He gestured back to the remaining pig carcass, "All this time I've been butchering a pig for a bold-faced metaphor, when the saying is scape-GOAT!" He laughed heartily at that. "This is the most embarrassed I've been all day!" His laughter halted and his expression turned very hard, very abruptly, "Almost."

He glared for a pregnant moment, before looking at his bloody hands, and using his Kinetics to cast off all the gore and gristle from his skin and garments, sending it splattering in all directions and leaving a bloody pinwheel pattern on the floor around him. With that he turned his back on Janus, clasped his hands together and smiled to the kitchen staff, as one of the younger cooks delivered paper wrapped meat into Janus' arms.

"Now then. What are we thinking for dinner? Would you believe, after all that, I think I just fancy a salad?"

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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The man's pointed jab did not go unnoticed– this was thus far the lowest point in a long career, so while he would not cast himself as entirely incompetent as Arkænyn implied, this was certainly a mistake that would likely not be forgotten for a very long time by his kin and those around them. He'd simply close his eyes and take a breath, ignoring the comment and returning his gaze when the princeps stated he was not to make any decisions on the subject without running them by him. This was…fair. More than, really.

And to that, he would nod, but Arkænyn did bid to continue, warning to not speak of these arrangements beyond those who were directly involved; the princeps preferred to make his own announcements. "...understood, Your Serene Starlit Highness," a statement offered to underscore obeisance.

The princeling's next outburst might have drawn a smile to his lips in slight amusement at the wordplay were circumstances not quite as grim, but as it stood, he didn't really react much other than blinking a few additional times. Although, he did wear remorse after the second 'almost' was stated.

Janus had moved to take the meat he'd been 'gifted' once Arkænyn had given him leave to and was in the process of receiving it when the princeps did deign clean himself off– some of the splatter flecked both him and the servus giving him the meat and fish, but neither of them did dare react. Carrying these parcels was somewhat painful, too; they were not too heavy for him, but the graze had cut a muscle that worked his shoulder, and thus every time he moved that arm, the wound was aggravated.

- - -

Parcel in hand, he would take his leave back to Gens Sælyan's Luxian State. He was not looking forward to returning home with this news, but alas, this was the fate he had wrought.

His leave was certainly an odd sight as he made his way out of the palace and back home, the first thing he did being to drop off the parcel he carried to the first of the servii he saw, much to their bewilderment. Nobody had ever seen Janus flecked with blood like that– and was he injured?– not even any of the older servii who’d worked in the estate for most of their lives had, and why he was carrying groceries was an even bigger mystery– but that was not for any of them to ask after.

The ex-senator’s next destination was to see his wife; she could stitch him up and offer him some degree of succor even though he would not breathe a single word of what had just happened to her. She didn’t need to know, she wasn’t supposed to know, and it brought him such immense shame that even having re-established his magic he didn’t at all think himself capable of bringing voice to it. Thessia was immediately worried, concern writ upon soft features, and such concern only grew when her questions were only met with words of refusal and him burying his head in his hands while she worked. He’d actually refused anything to numb it, too, wanting her to rush, claiming he needed it closed and cleaned up as fast as she could; he needed to speak with both Æros and Palæmon as soon as possible.

Thessia wasn’t stupid– she could tell that whatever news he bore wasn’t good at all, and it pained her deeply that her husband was either unable or unwilling to share whatever weighed so heavily on his heart with her. Unfortunately, though, that’s just how it was sometimes…it’s just that usually, matters that concerned her first son directly weren’t clandestine, given how deliberately Palæmon had avoided involving himself in politics or anything remotely surreptitious in nature. In actuality, though, this part she’d certainly find out about; with Æros to be hosted by Palæmon, this wasn’t exactly something that could be hidden. It was more that he wanted to tell those most directly affected first.

With the wound closed, Janus immediately stood, redressing himself in clothing that hadn’t been soiled by that unfortunate outing. He gave his wife a somewhat forlorn look, sighed, and then said he’d be back after speaking to the boys. Her lips flattened into a hard line before she forced a smile, saying that whatever this was, it couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it? At least nobody else was damned to die.

Having asked after both of them, Janus escorted his son and Æros from where they had each been and into his office. When not in possession of any of his kin, Æros still preferred to be around his family rather than playing passive observer to Hilana’s life, much as they were still friends. So instead, he’d overtake the body of an elven servus just to linger ‘round his home. For now, he was in the body of a pretty golden elf.

He pulled chairs such that the three of them were sitting in a triangle, and looking at them both, “...I went and spoke to Arkænyn princeps as soon as I realized my mistake and I’ve news from him.”

Palæmon’s expression was one of complete confusion– exactly how did this involve him? He’d steered clear as he could from his father and cousin’s affairs in this regard.

Æros looked briefly terrified, eyes widening, body tense; but then cleared it, calming himself. Uncomfortably, he braced himself for poor news– he hadn’t been deaf to the affairs of the day.

“Our house is still maintaining our vow to pledge fealty to Gen Sol’Aværys and the promised senate seat within the Luxian Curia, but it is going directly to Cicæro,” he began, and this was by far the most tame of his little batch of news.

“But the main change is your fate, Æros– and yours as well, Palæmon,” the man looked…sad.

It was rare for any expression to draw itself upon Janus’ features, so for that to be something he let surface? Truly, an omen of ill portent, that.

“Remember when you told me Arkænyn would pick whose flesh you’d wear, nepos?” He’d ask, looking to Æros.

Æros would look at his uncle, and then his cousin, and then his uncle again, “...yes? Wait, no– no! You don’t mean…?” Looking back to Palæmon’s equally bewildered face at the end of the question. Æros looked disgusted at the idea, his upper lip curling into something akin to snarling anger.

The moonborn was frozen, looking to Janus for answers, hoping it wasn’t what he was thinking.

But it was, “...it is as you’re no doubt assuming. He made his decision: you, Æros, are to be hosted within my first born; a jab against me, and unfortunately, you’ve been caught in the crossfire…" and then he'd glance to Palæmon, "...I’m so, so sorry little fawn– to you both.” He shook his head, for once easing up on the suppression of his emotions.

In so intimate a setting and with news so dramatic, it felt cruel to them to so meticulously mask his feelings as he normally did. Both of his kin were briefly shocked into silence, Palæmon’s lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words, Æros taken completely aback. The two of them would look at each other, staring wordlessly.

“You two will make that transfer after this; Thessia will ease the transition out of the servus and into you, Palæ…again, I…” he heaved a breath, “...there is no protest I could’ve offered to his command.”

“And Æros, one more thing; the role you will take has been changed,” and it was here where Æros’ shocked sadness and disgust showed another visible spike in anger, “...rather than serving on the Regium Consilium, Arkænyn princeps did deign that you, instead, serve as his 'food taster,’” the title was said bitterly, like it was poison on the tongue, because he knew this would infuriate Æros to learn.

And oh, it certainly did. In the body of the servus he inhabited, he was seething. For all of Janus’ career, he’d never blundered to this degree, and really, hadn’t made many mistakes at all, so for the first time this happens be when the collateral was on him? And Janus himself may be deeply embarrassed by his actions, but still, to Æros, he saw a man who was, ostensibly, getting what he wanted– retirement– whilst that shining spark of brilliance in the dismal darkness of death, the one thing that’d given him much hope for himself, had thusly been dashed, and for once, it wasn’t actually his own fault that something went wrong.

At first, his hands gripped both of his knees until the knuckles turned white, nails digging into flesh as his head hung and eyes remained cast downwards. He was so overwhelmed with apoplectic anger that he wasn’t even thinking about manipulating it with aether. His hands would ball into fists, every muscle in his body tensing like a serpent ready to strike, and as he leveled his devastated gaze to his uncle, he looked as if he might actually hit him. His breathing was heavy, unstable, and in a few moments, he found himself blinking away tears– and thoroughly embarrassed by that, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

Æros refused to look at either other person in the room when next he spoke. “...we’ll do that later. I…I…need to get a hold of myself,” he hissed.

In the immediate moments thereafter, he’d abruptly stand, knocking the chair he was sitting in over, nigh throwing it, and as he stormed out of the room, both who remained would notice that the fine piece of furniture had both of its armrests scorched beyond repair and that it had caught fire. The fire had just whiffed Janus, too, and neither he nor Palæmon could quite tell if he'd hoped to hit him or not. In his anger, the ghost had lost control of his most recently acquired Craft, but his cousin, the one who’d given it to him, was quick to snuff it out, almost as if by reflex. Æros was so very reckless with his fire…

Palæmon just turned a heartbroken gaze to his father, “...I’ve nothing left to say to you,” he said in a weak voice, sounding defeated. He would walk out far calmer but no less broken, leaving Janus alone with his thoughts.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Pharaoh]

11 Sundered Rise, 123 Annus Ferro

Part III: The Curia Lucis

The Sælyan petitioners would find the foreground of the Luxian Curia mobbed with people when they arrived. A path was cleared for the distinguished senators to file toward the steps, all dressed in ostentatious finery befitting a ballroom perhaps more than a senate staircase. Some were literally aglow, while others relied on their natural beauty and the mundane crafts of their tailors and make-up artists. This was nothing like the Umbrian Senate, nor much like the united senate had been prior to the split.

There were always bystanders and curiosity-seekers, to be sure, particularly when a royal was due to attend, but this looked like a national holiday with peasants clambering over one another for a glimpse of the elite.

► Show Spoiler

All at once the entire plaza came alive with a majestic, orchestral fanfare as the Sceptre in the Sky was eclipsed. Eyes would turn skyward to glimpse a golden palanquin mounting the firmament, slowly descending toward the curia. As it came closer and the backlighting allowed one to see more than a silhouette, the crowd would cheer, recognising their new golden- or rather platinum- boy, His Serene Starlit Highness Hyperion Vlahos-Sol'Aværys Arkænyn Princeps Platinum seated on the throne atop the litter.

To his right stood the stony-faced, sunborn Prince Drævyn and, to his left, the moonborn Prince Vrædyn. Arkænyn responded to the chanting of his name with a faint smile and a wave, that only increased its volume. There was an overweening fervour humming through the crowd and, though there was no paucity of zealotry in Solunarium, there was something indistinguishably unnatural about this. The palanquin would descend and enter the curia and, by and by, the crowd without would calm down as the session commenced.

It was several hours into the session, Janus would know this to be standard practise, before petitioners were heard. First Ex-Re'ha, then Patrician, Plebeian, and finally Peregrini, at which point the Sælyans were invited into the curia, where they would find both chambers of the senate. It felt full, and yet a master of Masquerade would recognise that this was illusion. The senate was occupied by roughly one third the amount of senators who currently sat the Umbrian counterpart. But it was difficult to focus on the surrounding stands, when before them sat the beautiful Platinum Prince aglow in starlit glory upon the throne of his palanquin, which had been reconfigured to serve as a daïs.

"We understand that Gens Sælyan has an announcement to render unto this august body." Arkænyn would intone, his face a mask of stoic tranquility and his voice smooth and measured. "Please, proceed." A pale hand emblazoned with witchmarks gestured for them to step forward.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

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Days prior…

The crash of furniture when Æros had left the room was heard through the walls, to a degree, allowing those in close proximity to hear it. Æros storming out, too, was a novel sight. He'd been morose, depressed, melancholic, perhaps particularly irritable, even, since his death, but outright anger was actually rarer for him to express since the incident. It was as if his grief weighed so heavily that rage would fail to burn hot enough to boil over…and yet whatever it was he'd just discussed with his uncle had managed to do so.

Though the servii would avoid spreading such information, they weren't the only ones to witness this. Sabina, Janus' only daughter and youngest child, watched as Æros in a servus' shape absconded from the room and, shortly thereafter, he was followed by Palæmon. Her brother's face perplexed her even more than Æros, who was, at least, known for fits of emotion. Palæmon was always regarded as nigh universally optimistic and high-spirited. She barely even remembered the last time she'd seen him so grim.

She bit her lip, brows knitting together in thought, wondering just what it was they'd been told. She and Æros weren't particularly close…and on the rare occasions where Palæmon was upset, she knew he liked to be left alone. She did not, however, see Janus leave, as she had walked away from the scene before he was able to gather himself. Perhaps it was the guilt, but he felt…unable, like it would be inappropriate, to simply whisk away the weight of his shame after both men had left him; he ended up sitting by himself for quite some time.

Sabina went to peck at Lunara, Æros' sister, who she knew was close to him. The slightly older woman, as expected, was equally as confused as her cousin, but told her she'd try to talk to Æros. Sometimes, he'd be willing to see her, speak to her, even when he was incredibly upset, but she said it was hit or miss– and this time, it was a miss. She'd gone to his room and knocked, to which there was no response, at first. Persistent, however, she knocked again and called to him, to which Æros told her to go. He sounded angry, choler in his voice; that single word held strong indications of the indignation which roiled just beneath the surface– and unfortunately, Æros in enmity was not an Æros that one could speak with productively.

And so Lunara returned to Sabina, who'd tried to speak to Palæmon, and was completely ignored. The Elementalist wasn't in his chambers like Æros, but he had very quickly erected walls of earth 'round a section of his gardens, entrapping himself within, and was equally unwilling to speak. Both men were soaked in bile, and neither of their concerned siblings had a single clue why. Nor did anyone, really, except for Janus.

Some time passed like this, all three men being rather reclusive and when seen, were silent and emanated heavy waves of unrelenting tension. Janus had, some time later, told Cicæro of his role, though the tone of this meeting alarmed the young would-be politician. Was this not good news? Janus was usually a stoic fellow, but this was…something else entirely. He was frigid; not even a hint of softness.

And then, Æros-as-servus and Palæmon had, at some point the next day, visited Thessia along with an invited in Hilana. The servus was rendered stable but exhausted from the aether sickness of depossession, and given some time to rest before resuming his duties. Palæmon's affect was even darker after this, cold as ice and completely silent; continuing to spend his time alone. Thessia's was, too, for that matter, and when seen together, the warmth once shared between herself and her husband was gone.

Nobody knew why. Nobody quite knew where Æros was, either, but conjecture spread quickly as hours passed.

…where is Æros? Has he been sealed somewhere? Banished away like his father?...

…maybe they destroyed him? The undead wear out their welcome quickly…

…why has Janus not said anything?...

….what's wrong with Palæmon? He's not been himself…

…has Palæmon been shackled with the wayward soul?...

A lot of these questions would not normally be so paranoidly asked so quickly, but with the family having to swear fealty to the Sol'Aværyn Crown soon, his absence was concerning.

Even despite these growing whispers, Palæros refused any indication of what had occurred, and his parents stonewalled per force as well– they'd designated it Æros' choice when to reveal, that is, if he even wanted to before any official roles were played, and it appeared the boy had zero desire to do so.

11 sundered rise

But there was no time for anyone within Gens Sælyan to lick their wounds or dwell in sorrow, for the wheel of time kept on turning, and they were going to have to swear their oath of fealty to the Sol'Aværyn Crown in haste.

The pageantry that surrounded the event made every single one of them uncomfortable, more so regarding those members of Sælyan ilk who lacked their own Mesmer to self-regulate. But still, they'd all done their best when it came to presentation, each dressing a degree to their personal tastes but all taking more of a gilded, golden color scheme or for those who preferred darker colors, golden accoutrements. Still, they were a stubborn sort of family, and refused to do anything other than stand tall in the face of what was, ostensibly, embarrassment for all of them.

The prelude to the session, that being the prince's arrival at the Luxian Curia, felt more like a parade than a simple attendance. Æros would try to read the faces of the accompanying princes, but with everything else going on, it was hard to get a good look at a decent distance. He, as well as Lunara, Sabina, Hespæros and a few choice others would also see through many of the illusions, seeing tell-tale bits of shimmering magic that gave them away.

The fanfare might have been fun for the more free spirited souls within Gens Sælyan were circumstances different, but being as they are, it all felt like mockery, and the negative perception was only skewed further by the bits of jagged enmity members of the house now leveled at one another. Now, however, was not the time for that, and as the family awaited their turn, they would all appear perfectly patient and placid– some of them had even feigned enthusiasm and excitement when Arkænyn had first arrived.

And when it came time for Janus to speak for them, the eyes of his kin and the gaze of the princeps felt as if they were boring into him. The rest, be they illusion or person, meant so very little; they might as well have not existed at all– but that didn't make it better.

Janus would deliver his announcement hitting each point of it dutifully, and at the end he would announce the one to take on the senate seat, Cicæro.

For his resignation and apology, however, he would say the following:

"Gens Sælyan thanks His Serene Starlit Highness for the honor of addressing the Curia. I shall endeavor to waste none of this storied house’s time.

"Those here who know of me know that I have a reputation for few words. There is a reason for that. Some may have heard that I recently renounced Gens Sælyan’s service in the Umbrian Curia. This my Gens did for myriad reasons, but foremost among them reverence for the Unbroken Line and the incomparable lineage of the Founders.

"But in the Umbrian Curia, I spake ineptly and delivered a misleading message to my fellows. Such shame is not unknown to me; for my reputation, I care naught. But my clumsy words have been taken to asperse the reputation of this Curia and of His Highness himself. The shame of that deed I cannot abide.

"My words were my own, born of my laxity and misunderstanding of His Highness’ words. Let it be known that I am culpable of this confusion my announcement created, and I have never for an instant intended to convey anything but my Gens’ profoundest respect for this Curia’s legitimacy and the Prince-Reagent’s rule.

"Worst of all the implications that some may take from my statement is that service to the Crown and to the realm is a treasure to be awarded rather than a grave duty. To prove now that I have never believed such, I do hereby renounce such office and position as I once enjoyed. If the cost of my personal privilege is the besmirchment of the realm, I would soonest humble myself to correct that palpable error.

"To you, my Serene Starlight Highness, I offer apology on behalf of myself and my Gens. As words were the cause of my sin, I pray you accept instead the extinguishment of my office and honors as proof of my sincerity."

There was subtle reverence that could be heard projected in the solemnity of his voice, but it would be difficult to discern why. Perhaps the public nature of the event, perhaps it was shame or guilt or remorse, perhaps it was apologetic, perhaps he wanted to simply represent his kin well, or perhaps he truly felt that way? Warded once more, one would be hard pressed to read him truly.

And when all had been said, each member of Gens Sælyan awaited what would come next with bated breath.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Pharaoh]

A very different Arkænyn sat this throne. Stone-faced, straight-backed and statuesque, his often expressive face was flat and bereft of the electric energy that exploded from him in private. As Janus stepped forth, he leaned forward, wrists resting just above his knees as he peered down with the same stoic expression his mother had worn from the same position for the past century. As Janus' oratory concluded, all eyes turned to the Prince Regent, who cleared his throat.

Slowly he straightened his back, sliding his hands back to lay over the curve of the armrest- his painted nails glinting as they reflected the glow he cast.

"It was a bold claim, sirrah, that I should break with ancient tradition to install one of your kin in a place long held strictly by members of the Unbroken Line. It is little wonder such an assertion was met with incredulity. Another prince might ply his Craft to mine your mind for motivations that might have stirred you toward such rubbish, but I shall take you at your word. For the oath you swear to me and mine is more important than any apology, and I do hereby accept your vassalage and, in my mother's name, assume my rightful role as your dread liege." He paused, inspiring a deep breath as he looked out over the curia, and lifted his voice to fill the high-ceilinged hall.

"You have heard today that an old family returns to our sunlit fold and a new senator shall rise from their ranks to supplant the weathered veteran. As their patriarch retires from public life and abdicates his position, we look forward to seeing who shall rise as head of the family in the coming days." He looked Janus in the eye now and offered a nod that may have been interpreted as approving, then his eyes roamed across the family pausing briefly at Cicæro, before continuing on to Palæmon.

"Although I shall certainly accord your family no place in the Regium Consilium," He said with a chuckle, that incurred a few bold chortles from the more sycophantic senators, "I shall grant a place in my court to one... or perhaps two of your number. I am given to understand that the corpus of your eldest son now houses the soul of your nephew. United, they shall serve at the Solar Court amongst my royal food tasters. Let this coveted honour show that the House of Sol'Aværys welcomes the Sælyans home." He lifted his violet gaze to regard the greater curia,

"And I encourage all of you to do the same." And with that, he would smile faintly and begin to clap, which cued the senate to follow suit, until soon the curia was resounding in applause, cheers and chanting of the Sælyan name.

[Pharaoh]

R E V I E W

Æros

Experience Points: 10 (May be used for Possession)

Injuries/Ailments: Mental trauma for Æros and Palæmon for being mandated to share a body.

Loot: A tenuous position at The Radiant Palace.

Notes: This was an unconventional thread. It was primarily an interaction with Janus, who I would consider to be a Level 3 Influence NPC, then it gets tagged with a lengthy section pertinent to Æros. As a loophole so I can give Æros XP, I will treat the final PC post as an Æros solo. Since I responded thereafter, I will treat that as a mod-bomb for the additional 2 XP rounding things out to the 10xp you see above.