#𝑴𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑺 : imagined by 𝚰𝐒𝐋𝐀 for 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙸𝚃𝚈𝙵𝙼 . 𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐒 , black swan of the day court . 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐒 , shield to the nightcourt . 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐔 , white wolf of the winter court .
THE COLD STILL LINGERED ON HER SKIN — a blast of frigid air had filled the ballroom when the dream court heir appeared , a sense of dread swelling in her chest as she’d searched the room for vysena , shoving past lord and ladies , crashing into others who opted to flee . when the attack started , she’d dodged what she could , narrowly missing shards of ice and sharp icicles along the way . vysena , however , had found her first it seemed ; it’d been so quick and so sudden , cisne had hardly any time to react . a sword sunk , swift and final , yet , when her eyes opened she’d been staring at the face of her friend and confidant . with what little sense she had , she’d struggled to construct a barrier of light for the two of them , panic and adrenaline feeding her strength . with vysena hanging from one shoulder , she’d dragged them away from the battle and into one of the corridors , looking back only to find that a path of sharp icicles sealed the exit behind them , preventing anyone from following them .
it wouldn’t be until much later that cisne heard of the death of the high lord of meridian . even now , it sat at the back of her mind , a mere afterthought as her worry dominated any other thought . cisne sat perched at the foot of vysena’s bed , concern still weighing on her features . ❝ vysena , will you sit down ! you’re driving me mad with your pacing , ❞ she exclaimed , knowing that the spymaster was growing restless . leave it to vysena to want to get to get up a day after having a sword slice through her back — her stubbornness might be the death of cisne . ❝ the healer said that you needed to rest , ❞ she pointed out , arms crossing .
ICE STILL RAINED DOWN FROM THE CEILING ; in the aftermath of blood shed , troian looked to the ceiling to find that sharp icicles still remained , slow patters of cold water dripping along the ballroom floor . it was infuriating to think the ice could ever betray him , how it could ever be turned against him . he’d recalled those crucial moments leading up to the attack ; the ball , the chime of laughter and chatter , the nauseating pleasantries . with arias by his side , he’d faired quite well , curt in all his conversations , but polite enough to avoid commotion . when the heir descended on them , the shock of seeing his half dead soldiers had stunned him into momentary silence , eyes taking in what they could hardly understand . then screams , screams of terror as the winter guards attacked , ushering a blistering cold that troian could recognize so distinctly . fighting back proved futile ; how does one kill what is already dead ??
an icicle detached from the ceiling and shattered beside him . troian knew she was near without having to look . ❝ you should have astraea look over you to make sure that you are not hurt , ❞ troian said aloud , eyes finding his wife . he paused , studying her quietly as he weighed his next words . ❝ you shouldn’t have stayed arais , i asked you to leave and you did not listen . . . if it upsets you that i did what i had to in order to keep you safe , then so be it . ❞
after spending who knows how long within the confines of the bone prison , lilith had been blind to most of the on - goings in the world but this … the icy soldiers of the court she had now called home was not all that unfamiliar . she was old enough to know stories , to recall something similar but it should’ve been impossible and truthfully it was the last thing on her mind as she moved through people ignoring the irony smell of blood that lingered over the lost and injured . they certainly were not going to sit around like a duck , waiting for those things to return . “ i don’t suppose there is another place to go , preferably with more effective guards . “ truthfully , they simply wanted to leave but knew it was not an option not now .
RED WALLS , RED FLOORS — had there not been brick there before ?? troian , for all his deceit and secrets , could not expect something so abrubt as what had just occurred . it seemingly changed everything he knew about the dream court ; how was it possible that an heir survived ?? and how was it that she could control those undead soldiers ?? those were the most pressing questions on his mind as he stalked down the hall of the castle , searching for the only person he hoped might have answers . eyes found the ancient one he called by one name ; lilith . lilith who was more friend then anyone else could be , lilith who was the sword and blade to his court . for the first time since the attack , troian paused , a small but present relief settling the anger that’s been shifting inside him . ❝ there is little time to add insult to injury , lady lilith ; meridian’s failure has cost them a high lord , ❞ he remarked , tone void of sympathy . ❝ i suppose that is a fitting price to pay for incompetence . for now , we shall stay and see what comes of this , i’d like to know more about this supposed heir . ❞
the high lord of the night court has never been gifted with a talent for politics, with their temper as dark as their domain and easily irked by the way others talk circles around their points. “ you ought to be more careful, lest someone misinterpret your words more severely, ” they say, complaint disguised as a warning as they gather shadows around them—a habit they picked up as a child, finding comfort in the feeling of the shadows under their control wrapping around them like a cloak. it is only this that allows them to brush off the winter lord’s slights and reply with practiced ease, “ the night court will, of course, do our utmost to combat threats to our shared security, if and when they arise. ” oh, how they wish to be back in lunis, with their loyal friends by their side, but they cannot jeopardise the court’s safety just to avoid the attitudes of their peers—and it’s not as if they’re any easier to get along with.
IT WAS FASCINATING how the shadows gathered , tendrils of black swirling and amassing all around the high lord ; he’d displeased the other , that much was clear. troian suppressed the urge to roll his eyes ; and here he thought he was dramatic . ❝ i am always careful , lord jaehwan . i would not say something i did not truly intend ; however , i’ll try to be more direct with my words , for your sake of course , ❞ he returned at the reprimand , shoulders rolling slowly . ❝ it pleases me to hear that you take these matters with great importance ; however , for now , the winter court will independently continue to consider the situation involving the missing soldiers . the rest , well , we shall have to wait and see i suppose . ❞
dark hues watch his every move — or lack thereof. having been trained extensively in reading others , the light manipulator found him incredibly difficult to gain insight into. he gave so little of himself away , it seemed. but the high lord won’t meet her eyes & his posture seems stiff … however , these are things that tell her what she already knows. that she is but an unwanted presence he must endure. does this bond truly not pull at him like it does her ? she is no fool ; this link between them isn’t favorable. troian is the married high lord of a rival court & seems to be as cold as his homeland. it strikes her that he may be entirely her polar opposite. despite this , the intrigue is still there. she knows little of mates ; having met so few who have had one … but at least knows enough to realize that this is something not easily brushed aside.
❝ so , you mean to make this difficult for both of us then ?very well. ❞ words are blunt. at least one of them may as well be honest here. any other , she may have let the indifference pass. she had yet to meet any man who was worth getting a rise out of her. although , truthfully , he had a right to be cross — she had been sent to spy on the winter court , after all. but these were special circumstances , were they not ? and she had attempted to be kind & was snubbed. so now , she will confront the true issue at hand. ❝ you have a right to your anger towards me , high lord baravau. but i shall make no apologies for what i do in service of my court & in the end … you elected to let me go. ❞ her eyes have not left him & there is a voice buried in the back of her mind desperately willing him to meet her head on. ❝ are we ever going to discuss why ? ❞
A MOMENTARY MERCY would surely never cease to torture him . in granting her that mercy , troian had expected never to see her again , hoping that his intention had been clear — yet , here she stood , making demands of him as if she merited anything more then a swift and deserving death . he didn’t know whether he should be impressed or irritated that she remained so adamant — whatever she sought , however , she would not find , for troian would not let a bond of all things meddle in his affairs .
troian’s cold expression soured , irritation flaring . ❝ the only person making things difficult is you , vysena , ❞ troian hissed , formalities seemingly forgotten as the high lord of winter took a step forward . ❝ i will not share with you my motives , nor offer any explanations for my actions . ❞ eyes now bore into hers with a frigid glare as he paused ; it’d been those very eyes that watched him now that’d swayed him that day in the winter court . how vexing they had been , drawing forth a vulnerability in him he hadn’t known he possessed ; troian’s icy disposition returned once more , face falling back into the same guarded expression he often donned . ❝ i’m going to say this once and never again , lady jawahir ; i want nothing to do with you . i did not grant you a small mercy for any reason beyond you being an absolute and utter waste of my resources . so tell , what about that in particular would you like to discuss ?? ❞
to think of the gates that held the most dangerous beasts of them all once again opened, it was both terrifying and thrilling. those were the things arais had a tendency to admire the most, just how nature would demand a balance after much bloodshed and change with even more bloodshed. the cycle was never ending, and it was something arais adored to be a part of. to be the executioner of balance, to see the fates tilt in favor of another’s. while she was far from an illyrian (or so she believed) and a believer in a god, she had a silent respect for the goddess that was worshipped in whispers back at her home court.
yet, despite her own personal fascination, the very thing she wished to see with her own eyes was the very thing that dared to attack THEIR men. it was a slight against troian, against herself. no beast would do such a thing without paying with their own lives. she would make a demonstration of said beast and ensure all that followed suit would find themselves whining for mercy at her feet. “ perhaps, “ her quiet voice crept in like a whisper, fingers dancing their way from his arm to his shoulder before squeezing them ever so slightly. “ you shouldn’t consider them as old tales long forgotten but the inevitable prophecies and a cautionary story regard the repetition of history. though, this time we might be able to yield different results than our ancestors before us. “ her voice was teasing, though her sentiment was true at her last statement. she had let him go, only a couple of fingers slithering their way from one shoulder to another before she found herself further from him, her back to him as she looked towards the fountain he had been admiring moments before. “ thankfully i found you and not some noble, they might have beguiled you with tales of that fountain, and speak of the weather differences between kings court and lunis.” she remarked, teasing troian as she looked at him with a wide smile. “it would be a sight to behold, you having to entertain polite conversations.”
A WELCOME REPRIEVE ; no need to keep the facade of indifference , not around arais . few would ever be worthy of his endearment ; his wife , however , was the one person who held his affection in a way no one ever had . he’d seen in her something he often saw in himself and knew that together , they could be something even greater — theirs would be a song of graceful brutality , their natures destined to compliment one another . he could think of no better high lady for the winter court .
❝ you know how i feel about prophecies , ❞ troian answered , eyes instinctively shutting as her hands brushed against his shoulders . he wondered if she truly believed their fate could be any different if the blights returned — he had yet to decide if he believed the same . ❝ though i would like to believe that this time things will be different , for now i’ll worry about getting through these blighted diplomatic sessions . ❞ eyes re-opened , lips now donning a half grin at her jest . that would be a sight to behold indeed . ❝ do you mean to imply that i cannot be civil ?? and here i thought i was doing exceedingly well at entertaining these prattling idiots , ❞ he quipped , an arm reaching out to bring her forward once more . ❝ you , i’m sure , have faired much better than i . though if you do tire of it , i’ll be more than happy to take our leave . ❞
oh , he is seeing red the moment his gaze falls on her. but for all his impulsiveness , he is a patient man. the long con was preferred. made revenge all the more sweeter as a perfectly laid out plan came together. he knows wulf may wish him to drop it ; to forget all about cisne villalobos & cut his losses … but he just wasn’t built that way. and what he knew of her , she would not allow him peace when he knew too much of her personal ambitions , having aided her in them in the past. so , while he will not approach her , that does not mean she has the same reservations.
❝ what ? no witty remark ? nothing clever to say ? ❞
a shrugs. for all the action expresses impassiveness , there is no hiding his anger. eyes narrowed , lips pursed. ❝ why waste words on being clever ?blunt suits me better. but i’m sure you are well aware of what a heinous bitch you are. don’t need me to remind you , love. ❞ ╱ @mvertes
WHEN SHE’D LEARNED OF the escaped prisoner , she’d known without having to be told who it had been . her first mistake had been underestimating him — the second had been assuming he’d never show his face in the courts . wishful thinking , she now realized , but what more had she expected ?? cisne , for all her composure and all her grace , could not keep her tongue from spitting out the question ; a fraudulently polite grin graced her features as she faced the other . ❝ i quite enjoy it when you get straight to the point calon , i’ve always admired that about you , ❞ she returned with a slight tilt of her head . ❝ though i could do without the brutish vulgarity . have we truly lost all formalities between us , pirate ?? ❞ she is smart enough to know that she mustn’t prod an already angry adversary for she risked unearthing her secrets ; yet she had no intention of feigning niceties to a man she fully intended to let rot in a prison cell .
heart skips a beat at the sight of the many candles lit through the halls, steps coming to a halt. it is a strange feeling, to have an element so closely tied to you and yet bringing with it the worst of memories. a constant battle of what is nyssa has to wonder just how much time humans spend making sure no part of their walls ever knows darkness, lighting a way that she’s sure many know by heart. meridian has never been a place she’s found herself hoping to visit but, as proven before, life surprises even those that expect nothing from it. before, autumn was replaced by spring and now gone dreams make way for many a people, coming from all over the courts ( some that daenyssa knows, others that she thinks she will never have a reason to visit ) to talk about something that seemed but the premise of a book filled with legends from a time far away.
footsteps echoing around her makes her suddenly all too aware of the way she’s standing, of the way the flame dances and no doubt reflects its flame on the golden line around her eyes. hypnotising and terrifying, fire is both a friend and a foe. for the sake of her own comfort, daenyssa lets out a small and sharp sigh before speaking. “do you believe the rumours?” voice is soft yet loud enough to be heard, she hopes. daenyssa knows not who she speaks to. truth be told, part of her does not want to take her eyes off of the flame to find out. a beat later, lithe fingers are raised, slowly reaching for the small flame before her. “do you believe the blight has returned ———” the fae adds, tips of fingers coming to meet the flame and staying where they are. no burning, no pain. “——— and already claimed the lives of those winter soldiers?”
SOMETHING STIRRED IN VESSIR ; veros , for all his years , could never truly grow fond of that feeling that told him it was only a matter of time . well versed in war , it might be easy to presume that the illyrian understood what it might look like , what one might expect leading up to it . but it was not so —— there was hardly any way to predict the temper of high lords and ladies , and their motives were even further beyond his ability to comprehend . now , he found himself in meridian , a place that did in fact incite a sense of dread in him ; it was as if he could feel the bones of the past shifting underneath him and around him . this land it seemed , was a history of rot and bones . veros kept these thoughts repressed as he ventured back towards the guards quarters . days of travel had worn down the illyrian , eddying away at the passive composure that he often carried .
it was in the orange glow of the candle light that veros would find her — he’d never quite seen anything like it ; the beauty of that moment was one he’d had loved to admire had it not been for the immediate ache in his chest . time , it seemed , had not dulled any wound ; it was delusion to think a bond so far beyond their understanding could be so easily shed . in spite of it , veros remained where he stood , neither approaching nor retreating . ❝ i . . . i do not know what i believe , lady agonne , ❞ he answered quietly , almost absentmindedly . his eyes traced her finger , watching carefully as it drew closer to the flame . ❝ lady agonne , you mustn’t — ❞ words died on his lips in the absence of any reaction . now closer in proximity , veros could see the glow of the candles reflected in her eyes — a ring of fire encircled those dark pupils . ❝ you have a resistance to fire , ❞ he mused aloud , understanding dawning on his features . ❝ i had not known . ❞
jaehwan remembers the stories, the aftermath of the blighted war — soldiers filing into the court with various injuries; their parents spending days on end in meetings, trying to solve the endless problems the war caused and also investigating rumours of escaped blighted creatures. they remember a childhood full of tutors reassuring them that their parents would be back soon enough, of training with the few soldiers still left in the capital such that they would be able to protect their court when they took over from their parents.
they understand where the other high lord is coming from, understand why it might seem like an overreaction, but— “ those old tales of the past you speak of aren’t quite as prehistoric as you seem to think, ” jaehwan replies tacitly. “ and in any case, it is better to be overly prepared for the worst than underprepared because of a foolish assumption that everything would be fine. ”
ONE MIGHT THINK the differences between night and winter might be so stark , or rather , so dissimilar as to ever draw a likeness . but in the eyes of the winter lord , their likeness seemed so evident . distant , cold , solitary —— winter and night , so similar in nature . troian bowed his head in acknowledgment of the other high lord , features remaining passive as they spoke . ❝ perhaps they are not so distant , ❞ he agreed , angling towards the other with a practiced smile . ❝ but i have made no such assertions , lord of night . i can assure you that the winter court is ready to resolve whatever may come our way . ❞ frigid words in an ultimately frigid exchange ; troian would expect nothing less from the other . ❝ i do sincerely hope the night court can share this sentiment — or would that be foolish of me to assume ?? ❞
there are heavy topics weighing on her mind. far more important & vital than the man who stands before her. her dearest friend’s ambitions that aligned with her own , an escaped criminal of her court’s prison , the possibility of a blight ? the list could go on. the master of spies was a busy woman after all. staying away would be the best course of action in the end ; out of sight , out of mind — logic told her so. and yet , curiosity tugs at her so. her fatal flaw perhaps ? it was a thing she had trouble fighting & soon found herself giving into to the intrigue as she steps beside the winter high lord.
❝ what would you have us do instead ? ❞ the question is genuine & spoken kindly. vysena knows her presence will not be welcomed , not after the way they had parted prior. and she is pushing it by approaching him at all. will he lash out ? perhaps demand to know if she has spoken a word of what she knows. or maybe simply tell her to fuck off & turn heel ? she should not care , but there is this desire held within her. that link between them , tugging her in his direction & instilling this need to merely know more. ❝ i am sorry to hear of the soldiers you lost. their families must be deeply worried about what happened to them. hopefully we shall get to the bottom of what occurred , but first one ought to explore all the … possibilities. ❞
IT WAS MISTAKE ; when the day court spy had been brought forth by his own spies , he felt it then . with a mere look he understood what she was to him —— a weakness . she was a weakness that troian had never expected to have , and despite his own nature , he could not deny it even then . not only had she infiltrated his ranks , she also ventured too close to a truth that could be detrimental to him and his court . it should have been an easy decision ; let the wolves deal with her . yet troian had hesitated , and ever since that moment , he’d mulled over that brief instant where he could not , would not , condemn her . so he banished her , promised her that if she ever set foot in the winter palace again , she would not live to see another day . that had been a mistake ; in letting her leave , he had all but assured his unravelling .
he tensed upon sensing her , their bond so foreign yet familiar ; it unsettled him . eyes narrowed as he regarded the other with a guarded expression —— why was she here ?? could his fortune truly be so ill ?? ❝ what i want , ❞ he answered stiffly , averting his gaze away from those eyes which watched him . ❝ is irrelevant , lady jawahir . the courts will do as they please . ❞ a diplomatic answer for a prying question —— or what he could presume was a prying question . despite their bond , troian could not pretend to know what her motives were ; approaching him at all , however , was a bold choice . ❝ keep your sympathies my lady , i seek no favors nor intent from the day court . less of all , from you . ❞
valyra was never a believer in fate , it was rather cruel and malicious to believe that she was simply a patron suffering from the universe will to fuck her sideways — garbage conspiracy . it did not seem accidental that out of all things , not only was the blight — something of absolute legend within her own generation — sparking back up but did it seemingly have a little target on the ice court’s shiny little back ? if it had , if there was someone controlling it all again she wanted to know . if anything , despite her annoyance within the unrest , val was aching to get more information . the spy life suited her and lingering within the shadows of meridian’s most beautiful halls only gained so much access . so , to any prying eye it might’ve seemed like another foolish act of fate something so simple that the master of spies of the night court and her trailing shadows would settle upon the familiar face that adorned the fame and chill of the winter court .
“ oh , don’t tell me you believe in all of that . “ was it confirmed ? that she desired to know a little more about though — she could hold out . it was always too enjoyable to pry information out of troian like a playful cat . “ or are you old enough to remember when they supposedly existed at all ? “
A WOLF AND A VIPER —— what could the two possibly have in common , troian wondered . occasional bedmates sure , but beyond that , hardly anything else . he knew to tread with caution around the other , keeping his secrets tucked away from her allure , a feature of hers which he’d gotten to known rather intimately . troian regarded the other with a raised brow , expression unamused . ❝ i may be arrogant , lady valyra , but to deny history would be an arrogance even i couldn’t fathom , ❞ he returned dully , hoping to keep their conversation pleasant enough to abstain from anything more . . . personal . ❝ the blight were a terrible curse on these lands , but i believe with great certainty that we have no reason presently to believe they have returned . ❞ what seemed liked a genuine reply was mere fodder in the mouth of the high lord ; what he believed had yet to be conceived .
troian turned to look at the spy , eyes gleaning what they could of her expression . ❝ what do you believe , lady valyra ?? surely you must have your own predictions . if not the blights , then what ?? ❞ this time , he spoke with genuine interest , keeping his gaze focused on her features .
ADRIA ARJONA, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER / according to local gossip , cisne villalbos has been seen wandering the day court for one hundred and seventy years . i believe they are from the day court but those are only rumors aren’t they ? i’ve been told from court spies that the one hundred-seventy nine year old is rather conniving but also adaptive. the member of the villalobos noble family is the talk of the town and has often been associated with the delicate sweep of satin skirts on cobbled streets, rigid features hardened by irritation, grin like sharpened daggers . let’s hope they can survive this impending war .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴
name : cisne villalobos .
nicknames : lady villalobos , swan of the day court .
𝒊. 𝒏𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒄 . the old elden gods died not only when they imprisoned forever , but also the day all of vessir spoke no more of them , leaving behind empty relics of gods who , to them , no longer existed . in the day court , the people remembered the twin goddesses nayarin and nunec , not night and day as most tend to liken them , but instead sky and sun . when cisne was just a child , she remembered how her mother used to guide her to the balcony at dawn ; she’d say in that long forgotten language of eedrah , “ thank the sun and thank the skies for another day of daylight “ . it was a ritual , a remembering , a departing .
𝒊𝒊. 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 . for most of her childhood , cisne was the shadow of her brother –— even though she was the second in line , none seemed to regard her the way they did her brother . she was an afterthought , a child who acted out of greed and jealousy . it was easy to assume that she was a nuisance to the high lady and lord , but the high lady seemed to hold some special tenderness for her middle daughter . in her she saw potential , perhaps the potential to fulfill a greater destiny then just potential high lady . if cisne was to be a shadow , then make it her weapon .
𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 . in adulthood , the black swan of the day court grew calm , reclusive , and quiet . no longer a shadow , cisne spent most of her days in eedrah’s library , but it was not fairy tales or stories she sought ; instead she learned secrets , gleaned history that’d been long forgotten by the courts . it was not power or even strength that would rule vessir —— it was knowledge . in this cisne believed , and her greatest novelty was in her ability to learn , to take knowledge at the expense of others . while her brother ruled , cisne plotted , gaining favor among nobles not through charitability or grace , but through extortion and cunning . her network of trusted spies and companions carried out what she could not , bringing to her secrets and artifacts . it was a game , yes , but one that she’d become well versed in .
𝒊𝒗. 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 . its not personal , really . cisne’s contrived idea of power is not a vendetta against her brother , nor her kingdom —— it’s a machination of the game , the vehicle to ensure the greatness of the day court . to the people , cisne is simply another noblewoman with superficial interests — the candid smiles , the elegant dresses , the soft titter of her laughs . but they know only what she allows , and none could know that her grace is but a sheathed blade waiting to sink .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁
𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 . after years of reading about ancient vessir , cisne has come to worship the deities of the past , most notably the twins of the day court nayerin and nunec . cisne wears a pendant of the sun that has the name of the twin goddesses engraved on the back . additionally , she keeps an alter in her quarters of the twins .
𝒊𝒊. 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 . as most day court fae do , cisne has the ability to bend and manipulate light . cisne is not particularly good at using her abilities in combat , and her powers are virtually harmless ; however , she does have the ability to heal herself , but fatal fae wounds cannot be healed by her powers .
THERE IS UNREST in the cursed high lord — eyes , pensive yet distant , focus in on the fountain of the castle’s gardens , hands neatly folded behind his back . its true that the high lord hardly had any desire to be here —— in any other circumstance , the news of the missing soldiers would never have been uttered beyond the borders of the winter court . however —— the blights , those cursed blights , had every reason to alarm the high lord of winter , rumor or not . he had no desire to see vessir fall victim to another century of blights , and he surely had much to lose if they began once more ; it simply was an inconvenience , a great and utter inconvenience .
lips twitched slightly , aggravation palpable in the slight shake of his head . for now , that was the least of his worries for there was no greater blight than the diplomacy he’d inevitably have to feign in dealing with the other courts . ❝ blights , ❞ he sighed aloud , sensing that he was being joined by another presence . ❝ truly there must be some other ways to entertain ourselves besides dabbling in old tales of the past . ❞
FABIEN FRANKEL, CIS MAN, HE/HIM / according to local gossip , veros artiegalos has been seen wandering the night court for one hundred and twenty years . i believe they are from the night court but those are only rumors aren’t they ? i’ve been told from court spies that the one hundred-fifty year old is rather oblivious but also compassionate. the captain in the illyrian army is the talk of the town and has often been associated with dirt and grit grating against tender skin, raised skin and open wounds leaving echoes of war, kind eyes weighted by tragedy . let’s hope they can survive this impending war .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴
name : veros artiegalos .
nicknames : none .
age : one hundred and twenty years .
court : the night court .
gender : cis man .
pronouns : he / him .
abilities : flight .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾
family : lady cyenna alquabari ( mother ) , unknown artiegalos ( father ♱ ) , thalodian alquabari ( half brother ♱ )
allegiances : none .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴
𝒊. 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 . there was a tale among the illyrian warriors thats often told time and time again , usually before a battle . before meridian came to be , there existed the dream court , a kingdom of great beauty and allure ; none more alluring , however , then the young noble woman persefoni . its was said that persofoni fell in love with an illyrian soldier , so much so that she dreamt of running away with him . but no such dream would see the light of day ; persefoni’s illyrian soldier would die in battle the morn they’d planned to run away together . a tragic love story told among brothers and sisters ; or perhaps a cautionary tale told to keep the illyrians from dreaming of greater destines .
𝒊𝒊. 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒕 . born to a night court noblewoman and soldier of the autumn court , the bastard born son was , from the start , a tragic misfortune to the alquabari family . veros who , at a young age , was quiet and unassuming , received the brunt of his family’s anger –– when thalodian was born , however , what seemed like misery turned into purpose . veros and thalodian were liken to the elden twins of the day court , unseparable and opposite in nature . veros knew , however , that their bond must be severed the more they grew as his family’s resentment grew more bitter and cruel . leaving at a young age to the illyrian army , veros grew distant from his half brother , hoping that distance would sever their brotherhood for good ; this , not out of cruelty , but out of mercy .
𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒏𝒊 . the illyrian army was a band of siblings who’d shared similar tragedies , cast out by their families , seeking glory in their battles . there was a mutual bond that kept them together ; veros finally felt at ease in a place of being accepted . it wasn’t until thalodian joined the ranks that the ease turned into outright fear and confusion ; what could his noble brother possibly seek in this place of violence and death ?? were the warcamps not a unfulfilled destiny , were the pyres not a palpable promise ?? veros and thalodian fought alongside each other , true brothers in battle ; it was true that veros was the shield and thalodian the sword . however , as all stories usually go , one could not remain . veros lost thalodian to battle , fullfilling a destiny that veros had hoped to carry .
𝒊𝒗. 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 . if there were ties left to his family , those ties were now gone . veros had no family outside of the illyrian army , and he certainly held no hope beyond duty and discipline . veros rose through the ranks of the illyrian army , gaining notoriety that he could care to use . as it was his birthright , veros too grew resentful of the nobles , hating their high society and frivolous worries . whatever sympathy he had died with his brother .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁
𝒊. 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 . veros has several scars from his time in the illyrian army . the most notable are a jagged slit running along his ear and down to his collar . his wings , at some point , were damaged by a blade , and though they were healed , his ability to fly has been limited due having to restructure the bones in his wings .
𝒊. 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 . veros carries a coin with his family’s crescent . although veros does not believe his is in any way a part of his family , he still carries the coin because it was previously his brothers . it is truly the only thing he was able to keep to memorialize his brother as his brother’s sword and armor was taken back by the alquabari family .
BEN BARNES , CIS MAN , HE/HIM / according to local gossip , troian baravau has been seen wandering the winter court for three hundred and seventy nine years. i believe they are from the winter court but those are only rumors aren’t they ? i’ve been told from court spies that the three hundred and seventy nine year old is rather indifferent but also ambitious . the high lord of the winter court is the talk of the town and has often been associated with the unforgiving breathe of a winter’s day, cold and relentless; white fur coat cascading down spine, more wolf then man underneath; stark black eyes pitched against the white snow, harsh like winter’s frosted kiss . let’s hope they can survive this impending war .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴
name : troian baravau .
nicknames : high lord , white wolf of winter .
age : three hundred seventy nine .
court : the winter court .
gender : cis man .
pronouns : he / him .
abilities : shape shifting ( dire wolf ) , ice manipulation
𝒊. 𝒋𝒆𝒛𝒊𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒂 . deep in the medved forrest , a singular brick hut sat at a clearing , serene and inviting in nature . but misfortune loomed behind those bricks , something old , something ancient trapped within it . the forrest whispered her name like an ancient curse ‘ jezibaba ‘ it frothed in all its tongues , beware the carver it pleaded . many had succumbed to that ancient creature , bones lost to time — none were so ignorant , none were so brave as to venture into the medved . pride on the other hand , none the wisest .
𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 . the story goes that the former high lord , varkon baravau , sought power in the hands of the elden jezibaba , offering the name of his first child in exchange for power . jezibaba , with her spindly white hair and hollow eyes , offered him a necklace of teeth ; a curse , a curse , a kingdom for a curse . the elden one kept her promise , giving the power to varkon he so sought , but not without a price ; madness trickled in like the first flakes of winter . while king varkon grew mad with power , the first baravau pup was delivered . troian the wind whispered on the day of his birth ; somewhere in the medved forrest , a hut began to crawl .
𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 . a mad king and a court shrouded in secrets , the echoes of the curse reverberated throughout the walls of winter’s palace . a charitable mother raised the two heirs of the winter court while the high lord grew more and more mad , often neglecting his heirs in their youth . hope began to swelter in the winter court as the young lord grew without an impediment to his health or mind ; slowly the curse began to fade from the people’s minds , simply a tale told to kids who did not know better . the day the young lord received his powers marked the first day of winter’s eternal torment .
𝒊𝒗. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 . it’s said that the high lady died with a great sorrow ; a husband lost to paranoia , and a son lost to wolves . the queen passed in a death unforeseen by anyone , not even her heirs who mourned the loss of their mother . the young high lord , the soon to be high lord , sought remedies for his curse , seeking out the very creature who’d spoke the fateful words that’d imbued in him a wolf . but no such creature to be found , just the wind and its terrified whispers . with no remedies to remove the curse from the young high lord , the doors to winter’s palace closed , becoming shrouded once more in a veil of uncertainty and secrets . none outside the winter palace spoke of curse , they could not know that inside the walls of the palace , a half man , half monster prowled .
𝒗. 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 . the winter court is perhaps one of the most solitary of the courts , infamously hard to infiltrate and harsh in doling out punishments to anyone who tries . since becoming high lord , troian baravau is sparse in his public appearances , having been seen by few and known by virtually none outside of winter’s palace . the winter court remains as an outsider among the courts , being hard to negotiate with and certainly being notoriously difficult in any diplomacy . what remains to be true and evident to everyone is that the winter courts ambitions is far reaching and a possible danger to any potential alliance the high lords and ladies of vessir hope to keep .
𝙸. 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙵𝙾𝚄𝚁
𝒊. 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒚 . troian’s curse is not in fact an ability , it’s not within the winter court’s set of abilities to shapeshift , which set an unprecedented question ; can the curse be removed ? those closest to the court know that the high lord has sought every avenue to remove the curse , even so much as recruiting a child of the elden one to aid . currently , there has been no true remedy , however , a temporary suppression of magic potion has been created , which is usually only taken during diplomatic trips and in absolute necessity as it renders his abilities and strength completely null .
𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 . the mevded woods are known to be protected by a large white wolf — at night , its stricken howls can be heard , striking fear and even sadness in all who hear its song . its forbidden to venture into the medved forrest at night , and those who have tried either don’t return , or come out missing a few chunks of flesh .
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