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!
Given his inexperience with fighting witches, Ber would later attribute his successful interpretation of her hand movements to luck rather than to any particular skill. In the moment, however, he thought nothing of it, nor could he have explained what instinct had given him the feeling that she wouldn’t aim for his torso twice. Regardless, as she sent the blade of unseen energy toward his legs, he managed to change direction and leap up and to the side in time to dodge it. Undeterred, he would still try to advance on her.
A smile that could only been seen as competitive crossed Mei's lips as Ber jumped to avoid the blade of energy. It wasn't often people read that one quickly enough to avoid it, so she was impressed. He moved closer, having now closed about half the distance. She could probably throw one more incantation at him before he got close enough to swing his sword, so she wanted to make this one count.
This time she spread her hands and fingers, palm out, as wide as she could. They started close, by her shoulders, and as she recited her incantation, her hands shot out in front of her. What it created was a thin wall of air, like a pane of glass, which shot out toward him with the same amount of force as the others had. Because it wasn't a pinpointed spot, it wouldn't hurt any specific point of his body. Instead, if he didn't avoid it, it would hit him like a wall of force spread over the entirety of his body. If he wasn't prepared, it could knock him back and and off of his feet by at least a couple of feet, and could possibly knock the air out of him if not from the force alone, then from slamming him to the ground.
For the relative ease with which he dodged the blade of energy to his legs, Ber could see that she had sent something toward him but only recognized where it would hit when it hit him. Given the general direction of her hands toward him, he had raised the shield in front of him as a precaution but hadn’t braced properly by the time he felt the wall of air’s impact everywhere on his body.
Flung a few feet away, Ber landed heavily on his back with a grunt and blinked up at the cloudy sky for a heartbeat. Though his breath hadn’t been knocked out of him, he would undoubtedly be sporting a nice bruise across his shoulders in a few hours. Move, Stormcrest. With a silent complaint about the unfairness of witch magic, he did so, rolling to the side and turning to face Meng. Ready to leap to the side as needed to dodge another incantation, he scrambled back to his feet.
One out of three wasn't bad in a situation like this. One on one, it was much easier to read ones moves. In a larger battle, opponents would be too busy with other things to see any of her attacks coming. But more than anything, back then, her focus had been on controlling her partner, not throwing out incantations.
She missed that feeling. Not the control, but the familiarity. The togetherness. While she knew her role was important and essential, it was one that rested in individualism.
The spar reminded her of why she'd given up the military in the first place. So she let the boy get up without throwing anything else at him. "Come on," she said, ushering him forward with a hand on the whip at her hip. "Let's see what you've got, Stormcrest."
She let him climb to his feet unhindered, which was probably fair given that this was a spar and not an actual fight, but had their positions been swapped, Ber would have shamelessly pushed his advantage. As it was, however, he appreciated the respite and brief chance to recover – and found himself all the more driven to claim victory when she beckoned him forward. Alright then, Meng. Challenge accepted.
Though she seemed to have ceased flinging incantations at him, at least for the time being, he knew that the whip would still give her a longer reach than his sword would grant him. He kept an eye on the weapon as he darted forward again, racing toward her in the hopes that he could close the distance between them that made the long strip of leather so effective. As he did so, he kept in mind the evasive rolls that Terach had shown him, and should Meng look like she was about to use the whip, he would try to dodge the blow before continuing his approach.
It was common for people to be confused by Meiying's weapon of choice. Curled at her hip, it looked quite like your average whip might. The nagaika was much shorter though, and thicker. It would not flash out with unseen quickness, but she could make it sound as if it did. She often used that to her advantage.
Made of flexible leather all the same, grabbing the ends of the whip and snapping them together made that classic whip noise. She merely did it a jerking movement to make it seem as if the whip had struck out. As she did, he dodged it. As he moved in close, a whip would be less effective. Her nagaika was not.
As soon as he was close enough, thrusting his sword toward her, she'd use her nagaika to wrap around his hand and jerk the weapon from his grip, tossing it away. With a spin, she moved behind him and wrapped the leather around his neck, pressing her chest to his back to keep him close, and locking it in place so that one hand was free. It would be tight around his throat, but she hadn't pulled it so tight that it had begun to choke him yet. She did had control of his motion, though. With one hand out, she spun them both in a circle and created a ring of fire around them. As soon as it was done, she let him go, used another incantation to make her way out, and came to stand just outside of the circle, with Ber still inside of it.
She smiled widely, sweating a little but otherwise okay. The movements had been fluid, as if she'd practiced them a hundred times. Disarm. Create an opening. Trap. It was admittedly easier to do on someone ignorant of her nagaika's reach. Now that Ber knew, he wouldn't make the same mistake again. But in a real fight, she only needed one try.
With the fight more or less determined, she lifted her hand and with one last incantation, put out the flames. Then she picked up his sword and offered it to him. "Good spar, Mr. Stormcrest."
One moment, Ber had his sword in his hand. In the next, his weapon had gone flying, he felt leather wrapped tightly around his neck, and his opponent stood pressed against his back. Ber had only just managed to hook a finger beneath the whip when Meng started turning, dragging him with her, and surrounded them with a ring of fire. Then she stepped beyond the flaming barrier and left him inside his fiery prison to blink out at her while silently wonder how the tables had turned so quickly and seamlessly. Could he leap the flames to get at her? He couldn’t find any obvious breaks or weak points in the circle.
Meng didn’t give him long to debate the question, for after a moment, she extinguished the fire and returned his sword to him. “Thank you, ma’am.” As he accepted her compliment with a nod, Ber took the weapon back but gestured to the whip - or was it not a whip? - coiled in her hand. “What is that? You’re clearly very skilled with it.”
When he asked, Meiying held the weapon out for him to take so that he could look it over. "It's called a nagaika. It's similar to a crop used for animal training. The loop at the end of the handle is used to slip over the length of the whip. The fatter braid at the end of the whip catches it, so it doesn't simply slide off the end. That way it can be tightened or loosened at the users discretion. And it's a rather blunt end, should you simply want to hit someone with it."
She crossed her arms as he examined it, standing with her weight shifted to one foot. She hadn't been able to actively spar with anyone in some time and it had felt good to challenge herself. "It's not a very popular weapon, but I was very small as a girl and it was lighter and quicker than swords, so I took to it more quickly."
Then she frowned, lifting a quick finger. "And not ma'am, Mr. Stormcrest. My lady is more appropriate. Ma'am makes me feel older than I am." She smiled. "You did well against my incantations. I can see you're quick on your feet and good at adapting to things thrown at you. Those are valuable traits in a soldier."
“A nagaika,” Ber repeated the word quietly to himself as he took the weapon, turning it over in his hands. Accustomed as the soldier was to the sword, this whip-like tool felt as foreign to him as its name did rolling off his tongue. While she explained how it worked, he took a step back and, turning away from her, cracked it as one might an actual whip. Whether the end result of the motion was anything like it was supposed to be, Ber had no idea, but the noise was satisfying at least. With one more look at the nagaika, he handed it back to her accompanied by an honest, “I’ve never heard of it, but it’s pretty cool.”
Meng’s correction of his form of address had him faltering somewhat as he tried to follow the non sequitur. The noblewoman might be a civilian now, but she carried herself with enough military bearing that he had addressed her as he might an officer without even thinking. Still, he nodded. “Yes, ma— my lady.” Her praise, however, had him straightening somewhat with his lips turning upward in a small, pleased smile. “Thank you.” With one hand, he lightly scratched the back of his neck, and his shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Dodging your incantations is tricky. You can do a lot with them.”
Meiying watched Ber with curiosity as he stepped back, cracked the weapon, and then offered to return it to her. She took it and hooked the strap back to the belt on her hip. "That is precisely why I like it so much. Most kingdoms know how to defend themselves against a sword, daggers, arrows...common weapons that are known by everyone. It is harder to defend oneself against something they know little about." She tapped the weapon on her hip. "It takes time to make those adaptations to style based on your opponents weapon, and usually by then, the fight is over."
She nodded approvingly as he corrected himself, glad that he hadn't taken offense. Some commoners hated it when they were corrected, but she'd meant nothing unkind by it. She'd never minded while she was in the military, but now she had to ensure that she received a certain level of respect, no matter if no one or everyone was watching. "I fear that many witches feel incredibly boxed in. They throw fireball after fireball, and it can be effective and damaging, but after a while, it's easy to read. Our incantations are limited only by our ability to think creatively. I like to try new things and it has helped me form them into other shapes."
"Excuse me, my lady," the young man who had come out with her approached, bowing and looking apologetically. "I believe we should be heading back now."
Meiying sighed, turned to glance at him, and nodded. "Yes, thank you Lord Bellamy," she returned her attention to Ber. "It seems I must go. I enjoyed our spar. I hope you'll practice and better yourself so that you can best me during our next one?"
Huh. Ber tilted his head slightly as he considered her observations. Though he hadn’t thought of weaponry or witchcraft like that before, she made some good points, and he set them aside for later perusal - not that the magic one was particularly relevant to him. Extra creativity with fighting, however, couldn’t hurt, and how many different weapons were there? Perhaps something to look into…
Bellamy returned and called Meng away, and Ber fully expected her to politely excuse herself and leave. Instead, she invited him to spar again at some future time. A smile ghosting across his lips, he nodded his agreement. “I can do that, my lady.” When she walked away, Ber would offer her a polite bow - he supposed she was more noblewoman than officer now, even if she still carried herself like one - and return to his own training.