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!
He had known Ber would have an averse reaction to the admittance as soon as he'd said it, but the strength of it still caught Zevran a bit off guard. Alys had been taken aback by the same information he had shared with her, but Ber seemed... worried?
He raised an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at his friend, "Well it's not like a plan to run through the streets proclaiming it for everyone to hear. I was only sharing it with you. Alys had warned me before about how Nevermere perceived such things."
He came to a stop in front of the door, opening it a bit to allow Rune to slip inside before turning to Ber and leaning against the frame. "I wasn't trying to upset you or anything. I think I just... forget the differences between us, sometimes." Because Ber had quickly become a close friend and he had already shared far more with him than anyone else he knew.
He tipped his head toward the open doorway. "I'll be alright on my own if you want to call it a day." He could still see some of the color sitting on Ber's cheeks from the conversation and was offering him a way out if he was feeling a bit too awkward.
Though Ber thought it was a good thing Alys had warned Zevran, he turned the implications of that information over in his mind. If the Dresmondi knew how Nevermereans felt about these things but had told Ber anyway, what did that say about Ber? Did that mean he seemed like someone who thought differently than most people, someone who would condone such acts, or perhaps even partake? And was that how other people saw him, too? It was never good to stand out, least of all like that - as someone to be ridiculed and ostracized for behaving in such a shameful and unnatural way.
They reached Zevran’s room and his friend turned to face him with words that had Ber waving a hand. “No, no,” He said, hastening to reassure him. “It’s fine. I didn’t think you were. I’m not— I’m just… surprised, I guess.” Taken aback. A little aghast. Also mildly troubled. And rather disconcerted. But not upset, not really. Probably. Despite the mess of conflicting feelings toward that particular revelation, Ber recognized the offer of escape for what it was and shook his head. He appreciated it, but he wasn’t about to run away from his best friend because the conversation took an unexpected turn.
“I’ll stick around,” He replied, taking a breath. “It’s just… like what you said. I forget how different we are, too.” Rune, of course, was a constant reminder of their differing origins as was every conversation about why Zevran was here to begin with, but they got along so well that it had started to seem inconsequential. What did it really matter where Zev came from when Ber was always happy to see him? It wasn’t like the way his people had no leader or traveled around in caravans had an impact on their friendship, and before now, it had never crossed Ber’s mind that perhaps one of the differences between their kingdoms would.
No, it wouldn’t. Men who slept with other men were unnatural and strange, but he knew Zevran was a good man and definitely more normal than some of the soldiers he trained with. And even if no Nevermerean in their right mind would ever freely admit to sleeping with someone of the same sex, the stigma attached to the act clearly just didn’t apply to the Dresmondi because he was different… or something. Ber also didn’t like thinking poorly about his friends, and grouping Zevran in with the others was nothing less than insulting. Chasing away the confusing mixture of emotions with a smile, the soldier decided to save working through these headache-inducing pondering for later. “I’m still good to hang out if you want to,” He reiterated, growing more comfortable as the conversation turned back to safer ground. “Besides, someone needs to make sure you remember how your outfit all goes together anyway. It’s got so many layers. Have you figured out how to tie a tie yet?”
Zevran continued to lean against the door, his arms crossed, assessing his friend before him, attempting to read the emotions on the soldier's face. Alys had warned him, sure, but he hadn't thought of how another man here might react to the revelation that he would almost certainly sleep with them if given the opportunity. He narrowed his eyes slightly, partially wanting to push Ber on just why he'd had such a strong, negative reaction to that bit of info. But decided against it in the end.
"Come on in then," he said, pushing ahead through the door. Unbeknownst to the Dresmondi, he had been given exceedingly nice accommodations in the castle. Of course, he had nothing to compare it to so he had figured this was just how all of the rooms looked in this place. "And no, I haven't figured out the stupid tie, but I was thinking Alys would help me with it when the time came."
He sat in one of the chairs in the living area, crossing his arms in mock hurt, "I'm not a simpleton, I can figure out how the different pieces all go together." He was pretty sure, anyway. Though he may have forgotten which colors were meant to go in which order.
Letting the door close quietly behind him, Ber blinked as he took in the room, lingering for a moment by the entrance before walking further in. He let out a low whistle, eyes trailing across the space and the furniture before finding his friend once more. “The king must like you.” The observation was mildly impressed, though soldier grinned as he nodded, pleased that Zevran had at least been comfortable during his time here. Far more than comfortable, really. There were even some decorations, albeit the impersonal ones intended to give the impression of familiarity. “This is pretty nice, and you’ve got it all to yourself, too.” As far as accommodations in the castle went, Ber had, of course, only the barracks for reference - and while they were free and functional, luxurious they were not.
Having meandered along the wall, he tucked his hands behind his back lest he give into the urge to run a finger along a strip of fabric. Instead, he made his way over toward the chairs and sank into a seat opposite Zevran, leaning back and offering a grin in response to the mock offense. “Alright, I believe you,” Ber placated him, tone just as lighthearted before the grin turned into a smirk. “But don’t think I didn’t see your face in that shop.” Amused, he shook his head at the memory of that entire experience, though the smirk faded into a small, content smile.
Never had he ever expected to have walked into one of those stores to buy a suit, let alone to have done so with a Dresmondi at his side and a witch fussing over both of them. He could never have foreseen how important to him both of them would become in a matter of months, both fixtures in his life that felt so natural it was almost as if they’d always been there. Before they could stray to the natural, morose conclusion of that path - the fact that Zevran, at least, wouldn’t always be there in the future - Ber shoved those thoughts aside in favor of something else. “There are probably nobles who dress up all fancy every day.” He looked over at Zevran, shaking his head. “Can you imagine having to put on a suit and tie every morning? It would take half the day to get ready.” If he didn’t simply give up and go without after the first few minutes of struggling.
Zevran's gaze jumped around his living space before he shrugged, "I just assumed this is what all of the rooms looked like here." He refrained from explaining that all he wanted was his bed in his wagon back, that these rooms felt too sheltered and stuffy to him, even with how large they were. He didn't want to sound ungrateful.
But he had to chuckle at the memory of the shopping experience, "Look, there's just some things about this place that I don't think I could ever get used to. Like how much clothing you all wear." His nose crinkled with disgust at the prospect of wearing the clothing every day, and he shook his head a bit.
Zevran relaxed back into the chair more as their banter carried back and forth and he was almost able to forget his anguish from earlier in the day.