{Sione} For friends, for Concordia
She sat at her desk, reviewing the letter's contents one last time before she sent them to the House. She had trepidations about how it would be taken, but she knew the times were coming when they must stand as one or fall.
Cousins,
I am not sure how many of you saw Baron Valois' missive cross the public channels, so I am sending a recording of it here at the end of this missive.
The Kingdom of Grass is under assault. All of Concordia, and other Empires beyond have been victims of the same for some time. More and more, every day there are individuals, fae and otherwise who are out there dying in a war that has been waging for lifetimes. All for temporary solutions, temporary ends that rehabilitate only a theme of supremacy, each by a different means.
Yet, here in Concordia, there is so very little holding them back. So little fighting against the plagues that are spreading across our lands, claiming us one by one. Since Ihsan's abdication, since Meilge's disappearance, I have been trying to pull together the Imperial armies to fight against what has been happening everywhere, but to no avail. There have been no responses, no attempts of coordination on that front. Certainly, individual Kingdoms have stood their ground admirably. We have simply to look at such places as White Sands or Apples to know this. Yet still, though we are an Empire, we are divided.
It is a time of Winter, a time of change, and we have seen that in the passing of High King David into Meilge's hands. It would seem in such hands, however, that the Empire has been given into the hands of a man who is more in love with the idea of ruling then he is actually of ruling and governing as he should. Which is an issue which can be dealt with once he is returned to us, but for now, we are Gwydions, and we have always lead by example. Such was David's time. There were flaws to his dream, as there is to any dream, but in this Winter, in this time we can see that dream change and become our own, adapted to the needs of a people slowly coming under the heel of creatures from the Dreaming's antiquity.
And perhaps it is as Sir Huffin has said, and this particular threat to Grass is not the White Court but something entirely different. It does not change that it is a threat, nor that that land's people have asked for aid. This is where it can begin in earnest, Cousins. Not for glory, not for the rise of our House to the fore once more, but for our lands, this place which has sheltered us now and in the past. A mother to children who were not her's to begin with, but which she took in and nurtured as if we were her own. For Concordia we should do this, we owe her as much. For Concordia and each other. For without each dream, each nightmare, where would we be?
I know that come time for this battle, three Gwydions will stand the field; Sir Huffin, Baron Valois, and I. I ask now to this House, will you join us? Will you stand in this battle and those that will come after? Will you stand with us?
No more can be asked than this. As I have said, it is not only Grass that has this enemy, these situations. I know it all to clearly myself. Our homes are at stake here, perhaps already your own home is at stake and you can not join us for this battle. To you I say hold your ground, keep high your people's morale, and let us know where we may come to help affront the threats to your heartlands. Grass is only the beginning.
I await your words.
Yours ever,
Countess Sione Tearenal
Voice of House Gwydion
She sighed and rose to feed the vellum into the interociter, the soft sigh of her black skirts moving along the golden sandstone of her study, watching as the words dissolved and fed back across the intended channels. There was a lot more riding on this than simple lands and titles.
She could still swear she scented the Dragon's tea on the air or the soft hush of his whispered thanks on her cheek. There was still a long way to go.
Cousins,
I am not sure how many of you saw Baron Valois' missive cross the public channels, so I am sending a recording of it here at the end of this missive.
The Kingdom of Grass is under assault. All of Concordia, and other Empires beyond have been victims of the same for some time. More and more, every day there are individuals, fae and otherwise who are out there dying in a war that has been waging for lifetimes. All for temporary solutions, temporary ends that rehabilitate only a theme of supremacy, each by a different means.
Yet, here in Concordia, there is so very little holding them back. So little fighting against the plagues that are spreading across our lands, claiming us one by one. Since Ihsan's abdication, since Meilge's disappearance, I have been trying to pull together the Imperial armies to fight against what has been happening everywhere, but to no avail. There have been no responses, no attempts of coordination on that front. Certainly, individual Kingdoms have stood their ground admirably. We have simply to look at such places as White Sands or Apples to know this. Yet still, though we are an Empire, we are divided.
It is a time of Winter, a time of change, and we have seen that in the passing of High King David into Meilge's hands. It would seem in such hands, however, that the Empire has been given into the hands of a man who is more in love with the idea of ruling then he is actually of ruling and governing as he should. Which is an issue which can be dealt with once he is returned to us, but for now, we are Gwydions, and we have always lead by example. Such was David's time. There were flaws to his dream, as there is to any dream, but in this Winter, in this time we can see that dream change and become our own, adapted to the needs of a people slowly coming under the heel of creatures from the Dreaming's antiquity.
And perhaps it is as Sir Huffin has said, and this particular threat to Grass is not the White Court but something entirely different. It does not change that it is a threat, nor that that land's people have asked for aid. This is where it can begin in earnest, Cousins. Not for glory, not for the rise of our House to the fore once more, but for our lands, this place which has sheltered us now and in the past. A mother to children who were not her's to begin with, but which she took in and nurtured as if we were her own. For Concordia we should do this, we owe her as much. For Concordia and each other. For without each dream, each nightmare, where would we be?
I know that come time for this battle, three Gwydions will stand the field; Sir Huffin, Baron Valois, and I. I ask now to this House, will you join us? Will you stand in this battle and those that will come after? Will you stand with us?
No more can be asked than this. As I have said, it is not only Grass that has this enemy, these situations. I know it all to clearly myself. Our homes are at stake here, perhaps already your own home is at stake and you can not join us for this battle. To you I say hold your ground, keep high your people's morale, and let us know where we may come to help affront the threats to your heartlands. Grass is only the beginning.
I await your words.
Yours ever,
Countess Sione Tearenal
Voice of House Gwydion
She sighed and rose to feed the vellum into the interociter, the soft sigh of her black skirts moving along the golden sandstone of her study, watching as the words dissolved and fed back across the intended channels. There was a lot more riding on this than simple lands and titles.
She could still swear she scented the Dragon's tea on the air or the soft hush of his whispered thanks on her cheek. There was still a long way to go.