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!
Magda called it an opportunity, yet the noise he made still sounded skeptical. This all sounded like a ruse to see if he would slip… yet the way she spoke next had his grip tightening on her. “Don’t say that.” He didn’t understand that she actually meant it. “You can’t know that.” Could she? Had the little thoughts and dreams of a son with her really just that? A dream. One that would never come to reality?
The more she went on… he was practically crushing her to him. Wives, in Coheed, were had in the multiples because the moment they were married, the husband would be (or should be) the only one to bed them, to ensure their bloodline continued. If Magda couldn’t… his jaw flexed at the thought. He already heard it before “Nevermeran bitch” or “Nevermere’s whore”, but Rian had slammed those who dared breathe such things around him. Yet now… he could hear worse. Barren. Useless.
If anyone dared say those things, he’d turn Magda on them himself. Show them exactly how wrong they were.
“Magda… do you know if you cannot bear my children?” His voice low, whispering to her in the privacy of their home.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Feb 21, 2024 9:59:04 GMT -5
Magda was without fear. The shame of her past that had haunted her like an unwelcome ghost had been exorcised by the darkness that had filled her after Izen’s murder. Magda held Rian’s gaze, nose brushing against his their faces were so close to one another. It wasn’t intimacy—not love, or at least in the way that Magda had come to understand it. It was something far more raw, more violent, more powerful than that.
“I know,” Magda whispered, “I can’t explain it, but ever since Izen, I can feel it. And even if I’m wrong, I can’t have you holding out hope for a child that will never come.” She put a hand against his face, though it was not gentle. It was desperate.
So simple to say those two words but how they had felt like a stone to the side of the head. His breath loosened from him and yet she was holding him for dear life. He’d never know what they might have produced together. What features of his would win over hers. What magic would dance in their veins.
“If it’s a boy,” his voice deep in the small space, “they’d hand him over. If it’s a girl… we’d only know if they wanted to tell me.” Women of Cambria were… temperamental. He knew that all too well.
Post by Magda Ivanova on Feb 29, 2024 17:59:41 GMT -5
“I have no interest in a girl,” Magda said callously, “A son is what we need. A warrior. An heir. And if the Cambrians can’t give you to you,” Magda shrugged a little, “Perhaps another Coheedian wife. For us.” Us. A woman to bear a child, a vessel for their use. It was foul, evil perhaps, but Magda didn’t care. She’d tasted power, and there was only one way to keep it. Rian’s children were not her own, but to have one to raise anew, under her influence…
“Think of it…” Magda said, opting to take a playful turn to diffuse the tension, twisting his curls in her fingers, “We could enjoy her. Together.” Surely a man who’d had many wives was not ignorant to the possibility. Perhaps it was her appealing to his baser instincts, but shew as willing to do so. After all, how could he deny the woman whose very touch was magic?
Last Edit: Feb 29, 2024 17:59:49 GMT -5 by Magda Ivanova
There was no stopping the surprise in his face as Magda effectively shut down the thought of a daughter. Well then. He didn’t want to point out to her that he had an heir, and that any that he had wouldn’t be her heir… so he found himself lifting a brow in question. “I thought you witches were proud to have daughters. Carrying the magic on and all. Since your men seem to only be cursed.” Living in Nevermere for years had shown him a few glimpses of the beasts under their skin.
But the deep primal chord she stroked at another wife? He had had multiple wives before… multiple children. The Eldouir had killed all but two of his offspring. Which made him a bit more protective over the two he did have. Even his daughter. A low chuckle left him, “Well if it is your idea…” he gave her a smile before pulling her close. “Then let this be a productive trip to Cambria.”
Post by Magda Ivanova on Mar 8, 2024 13:40:27 GMT -5
Magda chucked, not answering the point on daughters and instead kissing Rian as he pulled her close. She had her reasons, she always did, this particular one being the way that she had an interest in an heir for Rian—only that. Not a child to steal his attention away from her that did hot have the utility she sought. If there was another Coheedian wife to care for the thing, that was one thing, but if it were to come from Cambria? No, a boy was all she wanted for herself.
Her movements grew more heated as she started to tug at her clothes. Since Izen, she and Rian hadn’t laid together. But now, the dark magic that had flooded her seemed to urge her on. To drag him to her like in its snare.
There was no objection, and Rian felt that magnetic pull… it was always like that with her for him. Even back when he wanted nothing more than to stuff every paper she forced him to read back in Nevermere down her throat. When he wanted to burn all the fancy clothing and spit at the feet of those who scoffed at him for trying. That had been the bigger issue. It wasn’t the Nevermere traditions or the merging of their two kingdoms… well not as much. But it was that Nevermere… thought themselves better. With a conquerer King wielding them.
Magda shifted, clothing starting to fall away, and all thoughts left him except those for her. Greedy hands reached for her, pulled her over him as he fused his mouth to hers. His wife. All his. And let Izen be the example of what happens when someone tries to hurt and take what’s his. Sorrow hit his heart for a moment… but then he was quickly swept away in the curling, dark seduction of Magda.