[attr="class","appbody"]
[attr="class","appcat"]bio
mother's eyes were blue-green and glowing. she looked like a ghost. light and pale skin, she gave off a radiant light. something special. your father was a smart man with ambition. at the time of your birth your grandfather was on his last legs. father knew it was almost his time. you were a "celebration," if you will.
they didn't need you. brother made sure to tell you that a lot. he was a firebrand, albeit a clever one. he was charismatic. strong. intelligent.
trained. in the beginning he resented you. he was a boy with such ambition that the very thought of a sibling to overshadow him made him despise you.
but not for long. he learned eventually, that the throne was his. you were a mere trophy along the way to collect. a loyal sister.
(loyal because you loved him, not because you believed in him...)
it was a role to play and you did not mind playing it. brother made it easy. he was kind. he
wanted you to feel involved, he wanted you to feel welcome. you were an unofficial "advisor" of sorts-- you spoke to him when he needed it. you listened to him when he needed it.
you did not give your opinion. you did not weigh in on things. it wasn't your job. of course, you had them. you had your "what if"s and your "i would"s, but you kept them to yourself. you don't want to play the roulette of life. you're afraid of losing-- but of winning too. success means that people will expect things of you.
you, althea, are not like him, you are not ambitious.
(only when necessary does the good warrior fight. only when necessary does the good general strike.)
many speak about a "hollowness" that comes with privilege. the feeling that there is something missing from your life. the feeling of overcoming an obstacle. getting through a struggle. you do not believe so. why suffer, when you do not have to? (you do desire a purpose, althea, but that does not mean you desire a fight.)
brother seems to understand this. he does not want war. he tells you, in those exact words abruptly one day. you think nothing of it at first, but your mind often wanders back to the memory. the way he said it. crestfallen but stoic. indecisive. that is not the man you know. you return to him the next day and give him a piece of parchment.
(
to fight is not a purpose. a purpose is not to fight. -althea)
they want to be independent. you hear it from brother during tea. it doesn't worry you too much. 'irkalla' was your own father's creation. an outpost on a cliff. that's all it was, that's all it is, that is all it will be. you are not fazed until he tells you that is he worried-- and then it worries you too. he's always had a knack for things like this. you swear, he can tell the future.
but tea ends and you return to your home as you do every day.
you do not think much of his words until nightfall, when dreams of your father get to your head. his face and voice fills your mind's every corner. all you can hear is "irkalla." and a dizzying fade to black.
("will this be the end of you, brother?")
'independence.' they want it. you don't understand it. what has he not given them? what has the emperor not offered? the answer: he has offered them everything they need. wealth, culture, equality, fairness.
safety?(sometimes you forget when behind the palace gates: there are monsters in your world.)
(you do trust that he will do the right thing here. the "right thing." you've convinced yourself that there is one solution to the problem, but that's a lie. there are many. some, not as good as others. you can think of answers but they always end up hurting someone. your worst answer: hurts irkalla. your best...it hurts your brother, because this is his decision to make and you can't do it better. that wouldn't be wise.)
he gets angry at you when you speak to him, now. he says he still cares for you, "you're my sister," he claims. you only wished to help him. you only wished to give him a second opinion. after so many years, aren't you good enough to give a second opinion?
you give him his space now. it's easier this way. you think he's just concerned. sad. it's a cry for help, you decide, but someone else is going to have to come to the rescue, it won't be you.
(he doesn't value you as much as you value him, does he?)
paint a picture of a woman. does she walk with confidence, does she walk with power? (answer: yes.)
is she ambitious? does she seek glory? does she want attention? does this woman wish to fight? (answer: no.)
will she do it? will she fight, if needed? will she win, if needed? can she lead? (answer: yes.)
(she will protect what she loves above all else. she will
become the city, the people, her father, her mother,
her brother-- to protect them. she will weave the love and bundles and bury it deep into the beloved's bloodstream and she will walk with her beloved, hand in hand.)
(fight until death for her beloved-- it's her value.)
midnight. full moon.
he's dead. you can feel it. the tremble beneath your feet, the smoke in the air.
you can feel him dying. (why don't you cry? why don't you insist on seeing his mangled and lifeless body? why don't you
command them?) you can feel the people around you dying. it all fades from white to black and flares up in red. fire, blood, malice, determination, wine--
irkalla.you growl.
(the answer is, it doesn't feel real. he's still here.)
you have demons and you have monsters, but shara comes first. its monsters are tougher and harder to slay, but you will do it. its demons are harder to conquer, but you will do it. you do not promise that his death will be avenged, and you don't promise anything at all. not to them. because you know, empty promises are worse than none at all. it's a failure.
(the answer is, you're already deciding what to do next. not as a sister, but as an
empress.)
the citizens of shara shall not taste failure, you decide.
your promises are secret. you promise yourself you will rid the earth of the scum that planned his death. you tell yourself that you will lead shara's people and you will do it well. you will protect shara. you will fight for shara. he was a stern and strong father-- you will play the role plus one. you will protect and care like a mother, and you will raise and guide and fight like a father.althea-- "to heal."
( I. THE MAGICIAN. )
TL;DR--born into the current emperor at the time (her father)'s family.
their second child. normal childhood, although her brother made sure she knew that the throne was his.
she was a consultant of sorts for many years, silently dreaming up strategy and her own style of rule.
does not enjoy fighting-- she will not, if there is no purpose in fighting.
however, if there IS a purpose, she is brutal.
had a minor falling out with her brother (the emperor) when irkalla was delcaring independence.
he dies. she becomes the empress. no, rather-- she becomes the shield and sword.
[attr="class","appcat"]lore & abilities
her father arranged lessons behind mother's back. she can fight with her hands and with a sword. it was classical training, but she has her own flair. she is quite nimble on her feet. she can accept defeat, however bitter it may taste. she has been taught respect-- she respects her opponent. she will always fight to her best capability. althea feels a carnal need to not only best her opponent- but to defeat them. she must bring them down-- that is the only 'victory' there is. her father was a strong man, with strong ideas about combat. he has influenced everything she knows.
her combat abilities are a widely unknown secret, however. much of the royal family and royal guards are oblivious to her competence in defending herself. she was convinced long ago that letting them protect her "was a much better idea in the long run." father was a strong man-- he taught her to fight, yes. but to fight is not her purpose.
