#codex manonae

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believe it or not

love will save us not

i am all i got

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DRAMATIS PERSONAE: vol. i-iii

notes for the editor: by no means the full cast of characters, as you will come to know when you read further, but a thorough enough survey of the most important ones. –m.

MATHILDE: THE BELOVED SISTER CONRAD: THE ABSENT FATHER IOANNA: THE WICKED STEPMOTHER MISCHA: THE RIVAL

EDELMIR: THE BEAST ISABELA: THE WITCH

NICOLO: THE PHANTOM PRINCE AURELE: THE MENTOR MARY: THE SERPENT

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He'll say to me, "I see who you truly are, A girl on whom I can rely," And that's how we'll begin The wizard and I 🜚

(next)

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i'd like to walk around in your mind someday

Codex Manonae vol. xviii: The Emperor

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Alright, enough, so be it, so be it then Let all Oz be agreed I'm Wicked through and through Since I can not succeed, Fiyero, saving you I promise no good deed will I attempt to do again, ever again No good deed will I do again 🜚

(prev)

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codex manonae volume i: death rattle [prologue]

notes for the editor: covers early childhood, fall of the empire esp. the great fire, family history, mathilde's marriage, meeting mischa, journey eastward as transition into vol. ii. length can be sacrificed if needed but intro to mischa and mathilde must remain. –m.

no, this is not me hinting a revival of my earlier codex manonae project. some good things should just be allowed to die. but for a while i've been brainstorming chapter titles for each of her little narrative arcs, and i got inspired to create a poster/book cover for chapter one. no promises about sharing more of this caliber, but i will probably at least be doing some dress up for each arc so keep an eye out for that. unedited version below the cut.

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1,2 and 4 for Manon :3

I put 1 under a cut bc it turned out LONG!! Thank u for the ask and please enjoy my yapping :3

2- a letter written by your OC’s family member

Excerpt from Codex Manonae vol. xvii, 'Le Chateau Deguise.'

Maman, I wish to see you one more time before it is too late, and I must depart from your life entirely. I know you blame yourself for who I am, who I have become, but you must know that this was within me all along, even before you came into my life. I hope our final visit will not be another argument about my choices, and your choices, and whose these were. I wish to say goodbye, and to spend a day with my mother whom I love. Your son, Santo

4- a letter from your OC to their love interest

Excerpt from Codex Manonae vol. v, 'Family Values.'

Mon fantôme, Will be setting off to Wytchwood for the season to avoid Aunt P. & company. (Give G. my best, by the way.) Join me? I'm sure Eliza won't mind, she usually expects both of us anyway. Bring A. if you can so we can continue our lessons, and tell him to read my letters. I know he reads yours. M. P.S. No, I'm not doing your homework again. P.P.S. I left my best cloak in your room, and the Princess won't let me get near it. Bring it with you?

1- an overheard conversation about your OC

Excerpt from Codex Manonae vol. ii, 'The Beast of Padalovsk.' (Below the cut)

Voices drew closer, and footsteps with them, and I found myself holding my breath - though I knew my favored corner of the library was private, tucked away, and this was indeed why I adored it so, it was only then that I realized I could hide myself entirely, and become privy to the conversations held in the library without anyone's knowledge. This was a thrilling discovery, and to keep from spewing my glee aloud, I bit down on my scabbed knuckles. My doll laid beside me, peering blankly at the wall, though I knew she listened just as I did. The voices I soon identified as belonging to King Carlo and his sister, Princess Elisabetta, and they were uniquely hushed - I heard only small portions of their conversation:

"The queen and I spoke of Lady Mathilde's handmaiden, the quiet one with the white hair, do you remember her?" Carlo said, and then there was a rustling of paper.

"I don't think so," Said Elisabetta, though I knew she was lying, for she had showed me the way out of the forest, and helped Mathilde in her tending of me on that fateful night.

"We have received a letter from Lady Mathilde's father–"

"Odious man," Elisabetta interrupted, though I think she was mostly speaking to herself, as her voice was quiet.

"Wealthy man." Carlo moved further away - or, I think it was him, as I heard the sound of velvet brushing against itself, but none of the chimes of bracelets and bells that tended to accompany Elisabetta's steps. "Regardless, he has demanded that we remove the handmaiden from Lady Mathilde's service. He believes she will lead the Lady to wickedness."

There was a pause, and then Carlo spoke again, approaching Elisabetta, but he whispered this time; I could not hear him speak. Elisabetta was silent for a moment, and then she too moved, shifting so she stood in front of the slightly angled shelf that led to my hiding-place. I saw the bottom edge of her silver shoes from the corner of light that seeped into my shadowy hiding-place. I wondered if she knew I was there, and if she moved closer for my own benefit, or if it was simply happenstance. Though I can not now say whether it was accidental or by design, when she whispered to Carlo, I heard her words clearly:

"Bastard she may be, I can not help Conrad destroy a child of his own blood."

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14 for manon?

[14. your OC talking about your favorite quest]

Excerpt from Codex Manonae vol. viii, 'Honeymooning.'

It was, I believe only a year or two into our marriage, and I was pregnant with our first child. Together, alongside Donny and Wolfgang, (though I think he resented Donny's presence,) We traveled to the north to see some snow for the winter - festive holidays, and all - and while we were tucked into Wolfgang's winter keep, I came upon a strange cave tucked into a mountainside.

Within was, I think, a narrow hole in the Veil - for inside I found what must have been a primordial spirit, some sort of otherworldly creature, taking the form of a jellyfish. It floated in mid-air, and filled the cave with an eerie purple-green light, not dissimilar to the patterns of fluorescence that sometimes streaked overhead in those northern reaches. It drew me toward it with an inexplicable force, and I found myself pressing a hand to its gelatinous side before I had time to fully observe the situation. No sooner had I touched it than I was struck by a vivid hallucination - or, more precisely, a vision, though it was one I would not see come to pass for another century.

Varangrad, and with it all of Lacua, imprisoned under the purple velvet slipper of a man I did not then recognize - but I do now. The Pontiff-Emperor, whose name those reading this will certainly know. Then, however, I was ignorant - I saw only a crown, and a sword, and a violet cloak. Varangrad did not burn, as it had in my visions of the Great Siege, and it did not kneel before this oppressive force - it simply crumbled away, until nothing remained but dust.