The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
UPDATES
05.26.2023
2 month character creation hold for all existing members begins 6/5/2023. Ended 8/5/2023.
10.29.2023
Change in how times flows. Was 4 IC seasons, now only 2 IC seasons per 1 OOC year.
5 whole years of Heir Apparent goodness! When I started the site, I knew I was hunkering down for the long haul, but I never could have predicted the numerous twists and turns this roleplay site has seen. Hundreds of plots, characters, and members have come and gone, all leaving marks on the site. I am so very thankful for those who have invested. Because you keep coming back, keep getting on, and keep writing, Heir Apparent has the legacy it does today. Three cheers to us!
Miriel hummed as she cooked over the fire, hips swaying to the music in her head. She often used the singing to dampen her enhanced hearing. Like when Izen was with Ayla, or when she just wanted to drown out the noise of Gjodfest. Sometimes it helped, like hearing her son crying out for her easier, or when she wanted to know when her husband or sister wife was returning home. So she could return to the posed woman that her mother had created. The perfect wife certainly wasn't happy alone or dote on a daughter that wasn't even hers.
No she was supposed to stay focused, but she was cooking what she thought was her husbands favorite, and Kell had taken a couple of steps on his own earlier that day. Sure he had fallen down after two steps, but she was proud. Her son was on her hip, as she swayed, bouncing up and down, wanting to get down. The thought of him wandering towards the fire kept him up where he was though, and he was happy enough anyways. Especially as she spun around with him, laughing.
The crackles of the fire kept her company as she did her job. She had news, and thus she needed to pay attention, make sure everything was perfect. That she was perfect, because how else was she ever going to be the woman her mother expected her to be. A sound of footsteps made her pause and she went back to focusing, not having fun with her son. The food was almost done, she had to make it perfect. Perfect was the only option.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 6, 2022 13:03:12 GMT -5
Izen approached his home with a hand on the back of his head, scratching it slowly. The eldest son of his brother, their Chieftain--the man Nevermere called Governor--had been killed by Eldouir only days before. Kaalim was not taking it well. Ever the faithful brother, Izen had been babysitting him for the last few days and it was taking a toll. He was tired, both physically and emotionally, and could do with some rest in the comfort of his own house. He'd been relieved of his duty, and thus made his way.
The smell of what Miriel was cooking met his nose long before his house was in sight. He had a way of honing what he could smell, and knew it was coming from her hut.
Upon arriving at his compound, he went there instead of to his own space to sleep. Filling his stomach with good food was sure to help replenish him, and Miriel's cooking was his favorite. She would surely hear him approach, his gait likely familiar to her by now, and before long he appeared in the doorway.
A small smile crossed Miriel's face as she heard the familiar footsteps head towards her hut. Her mother had always said that cooking was an important skill, and she hadn't quite understood that until marriage. It was an easy way to gain Izen's attention, well when he was home anyways. And despite still flinching on occasion, she wanted that attention.
Her hips moved again as she hummed, kissing Kell on the top of his head. "Your father is home Kell." She kept her eyes trained on the food, still careful to make sure it came out perfect. And it was so close, would have been ready if she had started at a better time. She needed to be better than that.
Looking up as he appeared in the doorway she smiled softly. "Welcome home Izen." She understood why he was so busy, although she would never share those thoughts. He was important, and his brother had needed him. His wives came farther down the list, but Miriel was just glad she was somewhere on there.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 8, 2022 13:43:58 GMT -5
Izen's gaze fell on Miriel's swinging hips for a beat before she turned, and he had thoughts like any man would. But then she turned, and though her face was beautiful, it was not Dara's face. Whatever moment of joy he had at coming home was fleeting, leaving as quickly as it had come; in fact, with more haste. He was intent on never being happy with another woman again, as if it might dishonor the memory of his most beloved wife. She had been perfect for him. She had cooked the best meals, had the prettiest smile, and made the sweetest love. He didn't put her in a place she shouldn't be--she was only a wife, after all--but he cherished her for what she was. Though both Ayla and Miriel were accomplished and satisfying, they were just that: satisfying. Not a delight to Izen. They were his obligation to his people. Though he had never told them, he pitied them because of him.
"The food smells good." He said mildly, exchanging polite words because he was in a good enough mood to not simply ignore her. He moved to her and would reach to take Kell from her. He would not be surprised if the boy tried to cling to his mother, but he would not let him. All kids preferred the mother in the beginning, but Coheed sons were trained to want their fathers eventually, even if that meant cutting them off from their mothers. To prevent this, many mothers did their absolute best to train their sons to love their fathers.
"You, boy, are growing!" He beamed at the little guy and raised him up over his head.
Miriel was used to the disappointment in Izen's eyes. And that was okay, that was his right to be, and it clearly meant she only had more to work on. She was used to that, and although she wished it otherwise, that was the way it was. Besides he didn't beat her so clearly she couldn't be that bad, that had to mean she was improving considering her previous lessons from her mother.
Her smile was soft, happy for the compliment despite it's delivery. "Thank you." The words poured out like honey, well taught by her mother. Everything she had was from that woman. Including this marriage, and the son who reached for his father. She had taught him that, as she had been instructed. It would make the sons more favorable, and that was important.
"He's been walking, only a couple of steps, but he'll be strong like his father." Kell squealed with excitement as he was lifted in the air, a happy smile. Miriel took advantage of the time to finish cooking and start to get everything ready in the small hut.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 15, 2022 13:57:54 GMT -5
Izen heard her words, but he did not respond to him. He was typically a joyful man, quick to smile and quick to laugh, delighting in the joys of life without shame. These second and third wife, however, and this new family, were really doing a number on him. If he grew to love them, it would hurt to lose them. He couldn't bear to see the bodies of those he had loved and invested in broken on the ground. Not again. So he kept them distant. He kept himself safe. The only ones he still loved without reserve were his brothers.
After raising Kell into the air he brought the boy down to his face, then with an "up" sound he tossed the boy into the air, large hands catching him before doing it again.
"First you walk, then you run, then you're given a weapon." He told the boy. How could he not love that face, that smile?
Miriel continued to set things up. Her words often went nowhere, but that didn't mean she would stop saying them. She was optimistic, at least she was trained to be, and she wasn't going to stop because Izen was busy. Because that made sense to her, that was the only thing that would make sense.
As Kell squealed with excitement, it seemed like that smile might last forever. It wouldn't, it never did, he was a child. But for now he was giggling and happy.
Miriel finished getting the food ready and stood waiting for Izen to be ready. Silent and waiting, as any good wife would be. Not interrupting the important time with his son, it wasn't her place, despite wanting to join in the fun. She unconsciously took a step forward, but flicked her eyes down as she realized.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Jul 28, 2022 13:39:06 GMT -5
Izen smiled up at his son on the outside, but inwardly his heart was breaking. He should not have had to see the broken bodies of his children. He should not have had to burn. He wanted to die first and have his sons carry his form to be burned. Why had he had to set fire to them, those small bodies? His eyes filled with tears he had not let himself shed before, but they did not make it past his eyelids. They would not. He was a man of Coheed and he was strong. He was resilient. He had faced the greatest loss a man could know--that of his father, his brothers, and his sons, all in one day--and he had persevered. He would continue to persevere.
Smile fading, the man brought the boy down and stepped to his mother to hand him back. His happiness had fallen away and it was the somber expression that Miriel was more accustomed to that rest on his face now. It didn't look sad, but reserved. He would sit to eat.
Miriel always watched her husband closely whenever they were together. She never commented on it, and her hair fell over her face before he turned around to notice. But she paid attention, seeing the light flicker against his eyes, knowing what it meant. She didn't speak on it though, taking Kell back and putting him down in his basinet.
Pulling at the hem of her skirt, Miriel sucked up the courage to speak again, her eyes darting over and hair curtain lifting slightly. "I have some news. I- I'm pregnant again." She bit her lip, hair once again covering her face. But she was sure of it, and Izen needed to know, she wanted him to know. Maybe it would be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Aug 5, 2022 20:17:54 GMT -5
Izen dug into the food. It was warm and hearty and hit just the right spot. No one else's wife made food like this, he was confident of it, and even proud. Though he'd never admit it aloud much less think it, Miriel cooked better than Dara had. He basked in the food and didn't look up when she spoke. Not until she told him that she was with child. Then his eyes jumped up, first to her stomach, then to her face.
The onslaught of two opposing emotions was so violent that he swallowed the bite he was holding in his mouth down his trachea and immediately began coughing violently.
She had been expecting a variety or responses. A grunt of acknowledgement for fulfilling her duty. Maybe a smile with Kell a shining example of what she could produce. Anger that this wasn't a time to celebrate. But she didn't expect the coughing fit, her hair brushed aside to look at Izen.
The excitement that Miriel had been feeling was gone in an instant, quickly moving to her husbands side, a worried hand on his shoulder. "Izen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." This had been her fault, and she looked at him, concern flickering in her eyes like the flame she had cooked over. She shouldn't have said anything, or before there was food.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Aug 15, 2022 12:38:27 GMT -5
He wasn't choking. It wasn't a big deal. He and Dara probably would have laughed in the aftermath. But as the coughing began to die down he heard apology instead. It served to drive a wedge of guilt into his heart that made him bitter.
"It's fine, Miriel," he said, a little more harshly than was usual for him, and his hand moved to swipe her touch from his shoulder as one would swipe away a spider's web. He would not be caught by her. No gentle touch or kind words would make him love her. He didn't want to love this woman. No matter what she did for him. He gave her a home, children, and a respectable position among the other women. She dare not ask more of him.
Regaining himself, he began to eat his food again, mind drifting back to what she had disclosed.
His harsh tone made her flinch back, his hand moving towards hers feeling like a threat. Her hair fell over her face, tense and ready for something she had grown used to expecting. But as usual it didn't. He just went back to eating, his silent disappointment hanging in the air between them.
Taking a shaky breath she wanted to just curl in a ball in her bed, instead curling into her chair, and although her appetite was gone, she ate a few bites. Not wanting the growing child to suffer for her inadequacies, of which she knew there were many. She didn't deserve the man she was feeding, the man she had married, but it was nice of him to accept her, no matter how begrudgingly.
Post by Izen Cyrilson on Aug 24, 2022 13:00:09 GMT -5
Izen ate his food quickly. So quickly that he spilled some on his pants and the floor. He pretended not to notice. Setting the empty bowl down, he rose to leave. He didn't thank her for the meal--he hardly ever did--and he didn't say anything more.
As he ate, Miriel shifted around in her seat. Occasionally she would get close to reaching over to wipe off the mess on his pants, but she stayed were she was, afraid she had pushed too far. So she waited for him to stand, to leave her, somehow more annoyed than when he had arrived.
Standing with him she smiled, well-practiced and soft. "Thank you for coming." She didn't deserve any thanks, he had graced her with his presence and all she had done was spoil everything. Maybe her mother had in fact failed as she so often said she did. Miriel's foot traced a circle on the floor, sure that like most of the past few nights she would be sleeping alone.