|The Coronation Game|
This thread is rated M, for all of the usual reasons. Potential readers beware!
Twenty years may sound like a long time to most, but it is nothing more than a drop in the proverbial bucket when speaking of monarchies. Kings and conquerors alike seek to forge nations – and legacies – that will span generations. Centuries. Eternities, even. To this date, none have been successful. Not truly. That little fact, however, has never stopped any would-be immortals from trying.
The nation of Cydonia is still young, as far as kingdoms go. Only one man has ever sat the throne, and for but a part of his life. The early years were a sordid and bloody affair, but in more recent years, his citizens have enjoyed a period of relative peace and stability. The warring factions that once existed within Cydonia’s eventual borders have been brought to heel, and taught that cooperation is the only path to true prosperity. The memories of the common folk proved short when they were blessed with such good fortune. Old grudges were set aside, and former enemies began to look towards the future together.
Alas, Cydonia’s hard-won respite was not to last. Sensing weakness, or perhaps opportunity, a neighbouring kingdom by the name of Altim was quick to shatter their fragile peace. They began a war of conquest against those they had once called allies, staggering in both its scale and its ferocity. Cydonia’s king tried to stem the tide of foreign invaders, of course, but to no avail. The man might as well have tried to stop a storm by blowing, for all his success. In the space of just a few months, he found his armies smashed, his villages burning, and his land – and throne - quickly slipping away.
With Altim’s armies marching on his capital, Cydonia’s king was forced to recognise an uncomfortable truth. As enemy soldiers knocked down his walls and forced open his gates, the king knew that his own life would soon be forfeit. That of his heir, however…perhaps there was hope for her yet. An idea began to form in his mind. It was a slim hope. A desperate gamble. Wishful thinking, dressed up and framed as a plan. A messenger was sent out, and this, dear reader, is where our story
really begins...
Paging @Alura
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