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!
Taz was too caught up in her own maniacal revelry to note Hiram’s question. It was Xanthe’s words that caught her ear. She stopped, turning slowly. The little wench wouldn’t stop talking. Even now, qualified her request with words, words, so many words. As her dyr lay on the ground, still struggling, Taz growled.
Post by Hiram Eldouir on Mar 10, 2023 6:19:21 GMT -5
Hiram had heard all he needed to. He extended the bloodied hatchet in his hand to the Dresmondi and her desire. If it was what she wanted, then he would see to it that she got it.
Tazmin launch at about this time, and with only a glance she would at once find all the blood in her body working against her, refusing to move even as her muscles urged her limbs forward. The result? Pain. Pain and immobility. Only when she stopped resisting it would the pain ebb, but still she would find that she could not move.
Hiram stepped behind Xanthe, assuming she took the weapon, and would reach around her to close her fist at the exact place that she should be holding the hatchet. His chest was against her back, his groin at her backside—unless she moved—and his lips just to the side of her head.
It hadn't been some test. It had been a question as simple as the answer had been, and just like that, he'd offered his weapon to her. She looked down at the hatchet, reaching out toward it with somewhat shaky hands. She glanced to the side, to Embric, just as Taz shouted something.
Instinctively she had lifted the hatchet, choked all the way up on the handle so that her knuckles were touching the blade itself, but the way she lifted it in front of herself wouldn't have helped if Taz had been able to tackle her like she seemed to want. In that split second, Savi had lurched forward, toward Tazmin's dyr. The still suffering hyena would have found the maned wolf's teeth bared toward his neck, but it hadn't been necessary.
Instead, the woman came to an abrupt stop, like she were frozen in time. But her face wasn't frozen. She was alive, he was just...stopping her, somehow. Then he moved behind her, and her hand slid down the handle, gripping it tightly where he'd guided her to. She didn't like the way he'd said first, as if there was more to do afterward. But she'd told him she would do it and she couldn't go back on it now, even if she was second guessing herself.
Savi stood over the hyena with his eyes on his human as Xanthe stepped forward just enough to close whatever distance there was between she and Tazmin, looking the woman in the eyes. If that distance was still within Hiram's reach, she wouldn't pull away from him. Then, if there was nothing to prevent her from doing it, she would lift the hatchet to the womans throat and pull it across with a sharp yank. If the hyena attempted to use his element to attack Xanthe, Savi was prepared to let Rikki join his master in the same fate.
The pain rocketed through her body and, via Taz, to Rikki. The dyr whimpered and whined. Rikki did not protest: he knew the end had come, and so when the maned wolf barred his teeth he accepted it as a confirmation of what he already knew.
“I’m sorry, Tazzy,” He said, even now, despite all she’d done to break him (or perhaps because of it). Tazmin didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her eyes were wide, anger and fear crashing against one another. The pain subsided, but she still couldn’t move. All Taz could do is await her fate with as much grace as she’d lived with: none.
Rikki continued to whimper as if crying like a human child. Taz’s last look was one of anger. One of spite and acidic, venomous hatred. She’d meet Xanthe’s eyes if she could; still not understanding, still without an ounce of remorse for what she’d done. Tazmin believed she had been wronged: wronged by Xanthe, by Hiram, by the whole damn world and the fuckwads in it.
But life, it turns out, wasn’t fair. Not for Emrir, who was nothing more than a bloody puddle, and not for Tazmin, who deserved a death far worse than that Xanthe was about to deliver.
Her axe reached its mark unhindered. Blood gushed from Taz’s throat in a ghastly spray. With so little strength left in his body, Rikki would breathe his last. With her dyr gone, Tazmin was nothing more than a flesh-sack of a human.
When Tazmin launched herself at Xan, Embric had instinctively started to move to intercept, but he had only had time to lurch in her direction from the ground before she suddenly froze in place. Staring, he fell back into his seated position, gaze drifting from the frozen brute to the redheaded monster looming over Xan, who held the hatchet that had killed Ermir. That she was about to use to kill Tazmin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Embric made note of Hiram’s displays of power so that he could share them with— with— His mind, already struggling to process what had happened and was currently happening, stuttered to a halt as Xan stepped forward and drew the axe across Tazmin’s throat. While blood spurted from the dying Dresmondi, Embric could feel himself silently hemorrhaging hope as the realization washed over him again. Luka was undercover among the Eldouir. Zevran had disappeared. Ermir was gone. There was no one left.
Post by Hiram Eldouir on Mar 11, 2023 0:20:40 GMT -5
Nah, she wasn’t dead. Sorry, folks.
Xanthe’s cut was all wrong. Hiram saw it before she even brought the blade to the flesh. Too slow for the likes of a hatchet. Not deep enough. Taz would bleed, but minimally, and then her bleeding would stop. Her dyr was surely within an inch of his life, but they both still lived. Hiram made sure of it.
“That’s how you’d do it with a sharp knife.” Hiram said quietly in Xanthe’s ear, having moved so he remained close behind her. “A hatchet is a cruder weapon. Unmercifully blunt.” Blood came from him then, not from his hand because it was already healed, but from his mouth. His blood, not the blood of the dyr that he had already consumed. It sped to Tazmin’s throat, healing the bad work, creating a clean slate for a new attempt.
“Again. Faster. Don’t be afraid to catch bone.” He’d guide Xanthe’s hand through the air, showing her the exact, aggressive attack that he wanted to see.
There is no glory in battle if no blood is lost.
Last Edit: Mar 11, 2023 0:23:59 GMT -5 by Hiram Eldouir
Xanthe had been holding her breath, waiting for Taz to die. Ready for it, but the release of that breath didn't come for the reason she'd meant it to. Instead, it was forced out of her when he closed the distance between them again. She clenched her teeth to keep her lips from trembling.
She turned her head slightly toward him as the stream of blood left his mouth and moved toward Tazmin to heal her. Suddenly it was as if she hadn't made the cut at all, and now she understood what he meant by first.
Everything in her body fought against the idea of such brutality, but it wasn't as if Taz didn't deserve it. She'd been flaunting her power as a soldier for much longer than tribute. She'd probably caused problems for, maybe even killed, many other Dresmondi. It wasn't just Xanthe she had hurt, or Embric, or Ermir. It was everyone, everyone except the right people.
Justifying this felt wrong, but she had to do it. She had to remember what Taz had done to her that night, during tribute. The hatchet felt heavy in her hand, even as he helped her, but the faster she followed his directions, the faster they could get this over with.
So she lifted the hatchet into the air just as he'd shown her, and swung it hard into Tazmin's throat, grunting with the effort. When she felt the blade hit bone, her stomach lurched and she had to fight to keep the vomit down.
Tazmin didn’t bleed and die like he had expected her to. Her throat was barely cut. Then, after a stream of blood, it wasn’t cut at all. Embric hadn’t thought this night could get any more horrifying, yet as he thought of the amount of damage the Hiram’s blood could heal and the sheer joy he took in spilling the blood of everyone around him… Like a patient teacher, the Eldouir guided Xan’s hand through the air to show her the proper motion before the hatchet swung again, without his guidance, and met flesh and bone with a sickening sound. Torn between keeping his attention on Xanthe and wanting to turn away, Embric flinched at the noise and the knowledge of who caused it.
Would this be the blow that ended Tazmin’s life? For Xan’s sake, he hoped so.
Taz wasn’t aware enough of what was happening to feel anger. Or fear. Or…well, anything. She certainly wasn’t dead but didn’t have two feet in the land of the living either. Taz just waited—eyes glazed as a cow being led to slaughter. There wasn’t anything she could do, after all, to change her fate. Hiram’s magic held her in place.
Post by Hiram Eldouir on Mar 17, 2023 13:05:36 GMT -5
"Good." Hiram murmured in Xanthe's ear. This time, he'd release Tazmin, allowing her body to slump to the ground. She wasn't dead yet. She'd bleed out soon enough now that the but was deeper. Hiram's hand would reach for Xanthe's wrist, a motion that caressed her skin as he sought to reclaim his hatchet.
"Now stand here and watch." He said it with a little more aggression in his voice. If she tried to turn away he would reach to hold her head in his hands and force her to observe Tazmin's death. If she obeyed, he would stand beside her and do the same.
"You did this. You killed her." His voice was quiet but still charged. "Whatever your reason, whatever your justification, none of it matters. You've taken life. You're a killer. You're a murderer." The words would no doubt bring shame and condemnation upon a sensitive conscience.
"You are not good." Hiram would turn to look at her then, keeping his eyes on her face whether she looked back or not. "But you are alive. You have survived. You are strong."
Xanthe's skin crawled as he spoke in her ear. Praise for the damage she'd caused. He took the hatchet with little effort and Xanthe's hand fell to her side. She didn't try to turn away, or to wipe away the blood that had likely splattered against her. As Taz fell to the ground, she watched as he commanded her to. Tazmin's death brought her no joy, but she had at least expect to feel some sense of relief. Instead she just felt sick.
Even as he spoke, her eyes remained on Taz. Xanthe had been a killer before. She and Savi had ended the lives of some of the Coheedsmen during one of the attacks, but that was from a distance. With a bow and arrows. With heat. This was different. He was right. There was no room for justification, only the knowledge that she had just lost the last part of herself that was still Kushti.
No, she wasn't good. Every decision she had made tonight had been selfish, had cost someone something. Now she had to pay that cost. Blue-green eyes finally turned to him only after Taz took her final breath, or at least, what Xanthe thought was her final breath. "And now?" She asked, her voice a whisper.
Last Edit: Mar 17, 2023 15:32:29 GMT -5 by Deleted
Without further fanfare, Tazmin fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Embric’s gaze rested on her a moment before he turned his attention to the bloodied woman still standing. Even if Hiram’s words might have been too quiet for him to hear, Aine heard them perfectly - and they sparked a quiet, righteous fury that he felt deep in his bones. Hiram Eldouir did nothing but break and destroy the world around him, and Embric would not let the poison he whispered into Xanthe’s ear go unchallenged. He had been able to do little else tonight, but he would do this.
“No,” Aine told Savi, to tell Xan when he thought the time is right. “Don’t listen to him, Xanthe. He is wrong. He might know a hundred different ways to kill someone, but that’s all he knows. Nothing but violence and bloodshed.“ Her tone held no trace of hesitation or doubt. How many times had Embric justified the harm he committed, the violence he did not stop, to himself in the silent hours of the night? She knew from experience - experience from which they would have protected Xanthe and Savi - that people in their positions could not afford to question themselves.
“When there is blood on your hands, the reason matters more than anything in the world. He kills for the wrong reasons, and that makes him a monster.” Embric desperately wished he could pull her aside and tell her these words himself, but one wrong breath with the monster could easily negate everything Xan and Ermir had done for him. Just one more horror added to a lifetime of horrors that he couldn’t stop. “He will never understand what happened tonight, but you do. And you know why. Hold onto that why, and you will never lose yourself.”
One day, Embric resolved, he would face Hiram Eldouir on his feet. “You have always been strong.” He would look the monster in the eye as he cut him down, and he would feel no remorse. “And Elderkeep has made you a survivor.” Though he didn’t know how and he didn’t know when, he knew that it would happen. For Xanthe. For Ermir.
“But Xan, no matter what happens, you are also good. Remember that.”
Blood leaked from Tazmin’s body, pooling below her, crawling ever closer to the smear on the ground that used to be Ermir. Rikki died first. A last crackle of warmth flashed in his eyes before the light went out forever.
Tazmin didn’t last much longer. As she went, there was no remorse. No rage. No bitterness or sorrow. There was just…nothing.
Post by Hiram Eldouir on Mar 24, 2023 15:29:25 GMT -5
Hiram looked down at @xanthe.
“Now,” he said, surely drawing her attention from the string of communication flowing from human to dyr to dyr to human, “you say goodbye.”
Surely he didn’t have to specify to who. He didn’t gesture or anything of that nature. He simply looked at her, eyes locked, set on determining whether she would do as she had told him she would. Surely at this point she knew what kind of consequence might be waiting should she go back on her word.
There were two, no three, voices in Xanthe's head now. It felt like Embric and Hiram were fighting for land and Xanthe was sat right in the middle, unsure herself of who would win. If she were strong, like Hiram had said, this would have been easy. She could have ended Taz and been sure of her own motivations and justifications. If she were strong, Hiram wouldn't be able to sway her, and Embric wouldn't have to assure her. But she didn't feel strong. Instead she felt numb, and that numbness brought with it an unnatural sense of calmness.
Savi didn't care for it. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel like Xanthe. It wasn't that she didn't care, he knew that. Embric's and Aine's message meant everything to him, and he knew it meant everything to Xanthe, too. He would remind her of those words. Over and over, for as long as she needed, when the time came. But now was not the time. She wasn't hearing any of it. She didn't even seem to be hearing him.
Only the last word drew her attention back up, searching Hiram's golden eyes for understanding for a quick second, before she nodded in simple acceptance and turned away from him.
She walked over to Embric with Savi on her heels, the maned wolf keeping an eye on the Eldouir now that Xanthe's back was turned to him. She offered Embric her hand to help pull him to his feet with a grunt. I'm sorry about Ermir, Embric. I'm sorry about all of this, but don't worry about me. I'll do what I have to. I'll be okay. Just take care of Kasni, and Ermir's children. And yourself. The thoughts would move through Savi, to Aine, and eventually Embric. The maned wolf had relayed them with more emotion than Xanthe could manage to muster, even if she meant it all.
Normally she would have embraced him. Embric was her only family left. Her only comfort. But they were both splattered with Ermir's blood, with Taz's blood. Hiram was standing there, presumably watching, and she didn't want to give him any further reason to think on Embric's existence. We'll come see you when we can. She'd meet his eyes and take a deep breath, her own resolve reignited just by seeing him alive. Standing. Breathing. At least she had that. At least she had kept alive the one person she needed most.
It was harder for her to walk away than she would have liked to admit, but without fail her feet carried her back to Hiram. She wouldn't say anything to him, she would only nod once again.
Last Edit: Mar 24, 2023 16:48:58 GMT -5 by Deleted