Quest 264
As families go, I...suppose I'm really rather lucky, honestly. I've long since learned that families come in all different shapes and sizes and that some are far worse than others, but I think mine is...well. I suppose it's one of the nicest I've ever come across, and that does seem to be a rather rare thing. Which is a bit strange, really, since I'd always assumed that all families were like mine, or at least they were for the most part. I never really thought they might be...so different. At least, I didn't before.
My father is King Graham of Daventry. He wasn't always the king, though; when he was my age, or perhaps even a bit younger, he was a knight of the realm. And he in turn was the son of a knight, as well, a very great one named Sir Hereward. He's quite famous, my grandfather, if only because he had a habit of always telling my father some very good advice, and it's advice that's kept quite a few members of the family alive over the course of the years, and so we always think of him when we recall it. At least, I certainly always do. It's even been woven into a tapestry, the words of the saying, and it hangs on the wall in our throne room, and has for as long as I can remember.
My father was a knight under a king named Edward, who was a kind and just king, but not a very wise one. He and his wife, Queen Maylie, wanted very much to have a child, but they never could seem to have one. And so King Edward ended up losing the three magical treasures that have always safeguarded our kingdom, once for a spell that was supposed to give them a child, once for a spell that was meant to save Queen Maylie from death, and once by mistake, when it was stolen by a witch after Queen Maylie had died. That makes him sound like a rather terrible king, I know, but my father insists that his heart was always in the right place; he only made some bad choices, and wasn't the best at tempering his kindness with wisdom to match.
My father was nineteen when King Edward set him to recover those three treasures of Daventry, with the promise that if he was successful, then he would become the next king. And he did. He found one of the treasures at the bottom of a well, and bested a dragon to retrieve it; he found another with the king of the leprechauns, with the help of a condor to get him to the other side of the River Fools; and he found the third in the Land of the Clouds, guarded by a giant, and had to climb a beanstalk all the way up to get at it, though he luckily didn't have to go back down the same way. And then he returned, triumphant, and was just in time to tell King Edward of his success before the old king breathed his last. My father was his most trusted knight. I'd like to think he died happily, knowing that his kingdom would have that knight as its new king.
My mother is Queen Valanice of Daventry, but she was once Valanice of Kolyma. She's the daughter of a prince named Cedric and a miller's daughter named Coignice, and is quite renowned for her beauty. A witch named Hagatha captured her and locked her in a tower when she was a girl--I'm not sure how old, but I think she must've spent years there--and so she lived quite some time at the top of a quartz tower on an enchanted isle, locked away behind three magical doors that bridged the gap between her prison and the land of Kolyma. My father first saw her face in Merlin's Mirror when he was seeking to find a bride, and he fell in love with her at once and immediately set off to rescue her. And along the way he met King Neptune and slew a vampire by the name of Count Dracula and freed a pegasus from a spell that had turned it into a snake, and when he finally found my mother, he kissed her and took her home and they were married at once. And they've been so ever since.
For most of my life--all but a few days before I came here, really--I thought I was an only child. But it turns out I have a brother named Alexander, as well. He's my twin brother, so we're the same age--or at least, we will be when I go back to being seventeen upon my return home. I don't know much of what happened to him, but from what I understand of things, he was kidnapped by a wizard named Manannan when we were only babies, and he was stolen away to be a slave to that wizard until the day he turned eighteen, when he would be killed. But he managed to escape the wizard, and used magic to do it, and returned home just in time to save me from a three-headed dragon that had been ravaging the land and demanded a maiden as a sacrifice.
My father and mother were my tutors when I was growing up, and the one thing they always made sure to emphasize was the importance of a ruler putting his kingdom before himself. It was the lesson King Edward had neglected, and it had brought the kingdom to the verge of ruin because of it. It was my choice to go to the dragon, in place of another girl. I volunteered because I thought it was the right thing to do; I didn't realize my parents had already lost one child all those years ago, and my choice would force them to lose another.
It was my fault that my father fell ill when Alexander and I returned to the castle. He and Mother had locked themselves inside in despair, and the sudden shock of happiness at seeing the both of us alive proved to be too much for Daddy's heart. They gave him no more than a day to live, following his collapse, and I spent that day in a land called Tamir running errands for a witch and retrieving a magical fruit with the power to cure all ills. The day was nearly up by the time I made it back, but I did make it, and I remember seeing the color returning to his cheeks within moments of his very first bite. I think he said it tasted delicious, too, but I think that's more my father's sense of humor than anything else.
That's my family, the one I left behind in Daventry and haven't truly seen in more than two and a half years. They come to visit sometimes, a day here and there when they get the chance, but they've never come to join me here for good in all that time. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not; sometimes I think I'd like very much to see them, but other times I think it's for the best that I'm the only one enduring things here, while they're all safely at home.
I've had a family in the City, too, and we didn't have blood to tie us together, but we did have love to do it.
I wonder, sometimes, which of the two is really more important in defining a family.
[OOC: Roots Day! Because let's be honest, Rosella's got one of the least dysfunctional families in this whole place--which is saying something, considering they climb beanstalks and kill vampires and slay dragons. >>]
My father is King Graham of Daventry. He wasn't always the king, though; when he was my age, or perhaps even a bit younger, he was a knight of the realm. And he in turn was the son of a knight, as well, a very great one named Sir Hereward. He's quite famous, my grandfather, if only because he had a habit of always telling my father some very good advice, and it's advice that's kept quite a few members of the family alive over the course of the years, and so we always think of him when we recall it. At least, I certainly always do. It's even been woven into a tapestry, the words of the saying, and it hangs on the wall in our throne room, and has for as long as I can remember.
My father was a knight under a king named Edward, who was a kind and just king, but not a very wise one. He and his wife, Queen Maylie, wanted very much to have a child, but they never could seem to have one. And so King Edward ended up losing the three magical treasures that have always safeguarded our kingdom, once for a spell that was supposed to give them a child, once for a spell that was meant to save Queen Maylie from death, and once by mistake, when it was stolen by a witch after Queen Maylie had died. That makes him sound like a rather terrible king, I know, but my father insists that his heart was always in the right place; he only made some bad choices, and wasn't the best at tempering his kindness with wisdom to match.
My father was nineteen when King Edward set him to recover those three treasures of Daventry, with the promise that if he was successful, then he would become the next king. And he did. He found one of the treasures at the bottom of a well, and bested a dragon to retrieve it; he found another with the king of the leprechauns, with the help of a condor to get him to the other side of the River Fools; and he found the third in the Land of the Clouds, guarded by a giant, and had to climb a beanstalk all the way up to get at it, though he luckily didn't have to go back down the same way. And then he returned, triumphant, and was just in time to tell King Edward of his success before the old king breathed his last. My father was his most trusted knight. I'd like to think he died happily, knowing that his kingdom would have that knight as its new king.
My mother is Queen Valanice of Daventry, but she was once Valanice of Kolyma. She's the daughter of a prince named Cedric and a miller's daughter named Coignice, and is quite renowned for her beauty. A witch named Hagatha captured her and locked her in a tower when she was a girl--I'm not sure how old, but I think she must've spent years there--and so she lived quite some time at the top of a quartz tower on an enchanted isle, locked away behind three magical doors that bridged the gap between her prison and the land of Kolyma. My father first saw her face in Merlin's Mirror when he was seeking to find a bride, and he fell in love with her at once and immediately set off to rescue her. And along the way he met King Neptune and slew a vampire by the name of Count Dracula and freed a pegasus from a spell that had turned it into a snake, and when he finally found my mother, he kissed her and took her home and they were married at once. And they've been so ever since.
For most of my life--all but a few days before I came here, really--I thought I was an only child. But it turns out I have a brother named Alexander, as well. He's my twin brother, so we're the same age--or at least, we will be when I go back to being seventeen upon my return home. I don't know much of what happened to him, but from what I understand of things, he was kidnapped by a wizard named Manannan when we were only babies, and he was stolen away to be a slave to that wizard until the day he turned eighteen, when he would be killed. But he managed to escape the wizard, and used magic to do it, and returned home just in time to save me from a three-headed dragon that had been ravaging the land and demanded a maiden as a sacrifice.
My father and mother were my tutors when I was growing up, and the one thing they always made sure to emphasize was the importance of a ruler putting his kingdom before himself. It was the lesson King Edward had neglected, and it had brought the kingdom to the verge of ruin because of it. It was my choice to go to the dragon, in place of another girl. I volunteered because I thought it was the right thing to do; I didn't realize my parents had already lost one child all those years ago, and my choice would force them to lose another.
It was my fault that my father fell ill when Alexander and I returned to the castle. He and Mother had locked themselves inside in despair, and the sudden shock of happiness at seeing the both of us alive proved to be too much for Daddy's heart. They gave him no more than a day to live, following his collapse, and I spent that day in a land called Tamir running errands for a witch and retrieving a magical fruit with the power to cure all ills. The day was nearly up by the time I made it back, but I did make it, and I remember seeing the color returning to his cheeks within moments of his very first bite. I think he said it tasted delicious, too, but I think that's more my father's sense of humor than anything else.
That's my family, the one I left behind in Daventry and haven't truly seen in more than two and a half years. They come to visit sometimes, a day here and there when they get the chance, but they've never come to join me here for good in all that time. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not; sometimes I think I'd like very much to see them, but other times I think it's for the best that I'm the only one enduring things here, while they're all safely at home.
I've had a family in the City, too, and we didn't have blood to tie us together, but we did have love to do it.
I wonder, sometimes, which of the two is really more important in defining a family.
[OOC: Roots Day! Because let's be honest, Rosella's got one of the least dysfunctional families in this whole place--which is saying something, considering they climb beanstalks and kill vampires and slay dragons. >>]