About Itevica
Chapter 1: The Queen || Chapter 2: Flames Gutter
Chapter 3: Open Waters || Chapter 4: The Fall
Chapter 5: Resurrecting Ghosts
~Epilogue~

About Itevica

Itevica is a kingdom of old.
Born of a pact to relieve the land from Meridell some few hundred years ago, it was once a land of great forestry and lakes. It is most unfortunate that, since then, it has fallen into disrepair.
But this story is not a story of it's fall, not yet. Now it is a story of it's life, and how Queen Lenaise, the candle-lit queen, bought it into an age of prosperity and wonder. It was a land she loved in her time as queen, and her treatment of such reflected it.
From the illustrious silver and copper mines in the eastern mountains, to the sprawling castle on the cliff, Itevica was wreathed in beauty. Her reign was the peak of it's wondrous era...

Some quick facts:

• Land Area : Approximately sixty two twenty miles long, and seventeen wide.
  
• Topography : Mountainous and rocky.
  
• Imports : Wool, cereal grains, meats.
  
• Exports : Silvers, copper, gems, wood.
  
• Capital : Leuince ; Makers of Mirrors.
  
• Populace : Approx. 12,000 in the capital, and 179,600 or so outwardly during it's peak years.
  
  Of course, that was before it crumbled.
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1 : The Queen
  She was born into the world on a rainy, cold day. The moment she opened her eyes, the glint of a candle caught her attention: As she reached from her mother's arms, Lenaise Fantine Maerten II, daughter of Lenaise Fantine Maerten-Greggors, smiled. She wept as she was wrapped in the white cloth- And her mother smiled after her.
  Such a small little thing, to inherit the kingdom.
  
  It was through vigorous schooling that Lenaise became a model, enlightened young woman. Ignoring her off-kilter manner of speaking-- She always seemed to address everyone as on her own level of intellect, including the servants --and that she had a habit of slurping her tea, and that she was not all that balanced in poise, or good at delicate social situations, she was an ideal monarch.
  She was a jem in her mother's eyes--But this story isn't to be told from an outsiders perspective. After all, to know the Queen, you must be the people, and to know the people, one must be a Queen...
  The following correspondences occur some years after her birth, and lead into an insight into the princess' world.
  

  ---

  
  FROM THE LETTERS OF PRINCESS LENAISE TO HER FRIEND NICKOLAIS; AGED 7
  Nickolais- This week has been a delight! I assure you, we were glad to have you at the ball. It was no fault of yours that the duke fell into his sherbet bowl while his shoes were (curiously) tied together. Although, I would like to extend my thanks to you for taking that fall for me...
  As it goes, I know this letter will be written long after you've left, but I should let you know that an illness has fallen about the castle and as it appears the rest of the kingdom. I shan't be able to visit you as often, a fact to which is to my dire regrets. We do have such fun together.
  This letter will be cut short, as my gov'ness is begging me do so, so I may go practice my arith--ariht--math.
  Must also tend to mother. Will write again soon.
  Yrs. Truly, Yr. Friend,
  Lenaise F. Maerten II, Princess
  

  FROM THE WRITTEN LOGS OF GOV'NESS SYVELT
  as detailed in her own hand
  
  Month of hiding year twe-hund'rd sev'tn, date the fourth - Prin'css is curiosr, & curiosr.
  Rather feared illness of queen is incrsing - She is bedrddn. Training for heirdom is und'way, as King is looking increasingly ill.
  Cannot let Prin'css out of grounds, tho curiosity is b'cming a rapid problem. She wants to see the psnts and the oo-sideres, who are also ravaged with ill.
  It is the queens kindness to such lowers that has bought her this far.
  We hope she grows well.
  Lessons are to tend too now. Must cease written log.
  

  From witness'd accounts of the servants
  
  Srvnt Girl: Oh, aye, Id say she was fare this past week. 'Tis saddenin'- her heart is too large for her, blessed Majesty. Naoo, don' go tellin' th' others Ayy said this, but th' king is lookin' unwell hisself...
  
  Kitch'n Chef: Tha' princess is a handful! Running 'round, bringing me the oddest things to decor the food with. (He shakes his head here) The queen is not faring well, despite many cures slipped into food. I do my best, but Jeran, the warrior willing, she fares only worse. I bring her only what she needs now- She's stopped taking solids, due to the pains they bring her stomach. She's a frail thing, I'd say.
  
  Handm'dn: Oh! I can't even *beare* to talk o' et. The poor, luvly qyeen. She's so kind t'us, you know. So forgiving. Bought me gifts for me luverly- Incouraged my lovey to wed me, herself! Sent him a letter, all signed an' all. Oh, I hope she pulls through. We're nothin' long without her.
  
  

  AND SO...

  It took little time beyond that. The queen's health failed rapidly; Until the last day where she lay on her bed, covered in most lovely silks, she slipped from the wordly plane.
  The grief in the castle and kingdom were immense, and poor Lenaise was not immune.
  She lit a candle, every night. And every night, she kept sure it burnt, until she grew faint with exhaustion. When she woke each morning, someone had put it up for her, and wrapped her in a blanket.
  On nights when no candles were found, she'd creep through the castle, a looming, lonely giant in the dark of mourning, and she would hear the quiet sobs beneath the rustling of mice and drafty winds.
  Her father, a strong man, had been reduced to smallness, like a roaring fire into cinders. And in her worry, she hastened to comfort him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 2 : The Flame Gutters
  Her father wasted away slowly.
  Although the illness in the kingdom was vanishing as quickly as it had come, her father's sorrows had not- Nor would they ever, she feared, leave him.
  Her own hours were consumed with worry for the man she adored- Until one day, where the sky was overcast, he came into her room to find her, surrounded by candles.
  
  His brow furrowed, he moved behind her,
  My daughter, what is the meaning of all this? Candles-- Candles will not bring you anything they cannot offer, and all they offer is light.
  She looked up quickly, startled.
  Papa! I- I know-, She looked down, They just bring such comfort since mama..Left. She ended lamely, and turned with her hands in her lap, looking down. He smiled vaguely, and moved behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
  It's alright, dear one. Come; We need seek friendlier skies.
  They left the room shortly, the breeze from the door moving the flames to sputter in their wake...
  
  The kingdom was in the wake of tragedy, but it was still a kingdom, and still needed running, which is why at the quiet age of eleven, dating four years after her mother's death, Lenaise's education resumed and her preparations for the throne endured.
  
  She details, in her letters:
  
  Dated the monthe of hunting, date seventh and yeartwo hundred nin'ten
  Nickolais -
  Thank the heavens you haven't the need to learn to curtsey. I envy that of you- And that you've your own acrege! I've heard you've been hunting as of late with the Herald artists. Trying to capture your rogueish side?
  I've been asked to practice my English, so pardon the length of this letter. Govn'ss is reading over my shoulder..
  As it goes on, I've been working on painting, and the classical languages. Ancient Altidorian is a bit much though- I mean, who speaks it readily now?
  I miss our games on the lawn and through the corridors! But I'm hovered over now, and the corridors are filled with people constantly making sure I don't rush off.
  I must write later. Time for mathematics.
  Yours truly,
  Lady Lenaise, Princess
  
  Dated the monthe of swimming, date twelvth and year two hundred twe'one
  Prince Nickolais -
  I've been requested to address you formally now. My education is requiring I start addressing those around me by title- I've been told I'm too old to get 'round with just calling everything what they're named. Such an odd situation!
  Gov'ness says it comes with the breeding, whatever that may mean. There are so many rules! So much to do, so much to say. I suppose you know what I mean..
  Letters are getting shorter. I have to go memorize the treatsies and make sure all is in order. Or not. However we run this nation, it seems to all be written down by men with inexplicably illegible handwriting.
  I think I may get to study the revolts, though. Always fun, those.
  Well. Except for us.
  To write later,
  Princess Lenaise II

  
  It was shortly after the sending of this letter, plans to rise Lenaise to the throne were set in stone.
  The King was stepping down, and the Princess was rising, the nation at her feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 3 : Open Waters
  The removal of King Greggor was met with reluctance, but the populace was more than willing to embrace the possibility of a new Queen.
  Lenaise however, was uncertain. Despite years of training, the prospects seemed grim. She turned to Nickolais for help...
  
  
  Dated the monthe of hyding, date seven-tenth and year two hundred twe'tres
  His Royal Sire, King Nickolais-
  My thirteenth is arriving, and with that I am entitled to start reigning on my own, as dictated by the old documents of the Raes. As you know, our two separate countries are verging at war.
  Despite our friendship, dear Nickolais, I'm afraid my advisors are pressing me closely. Your imports have crippled my people into eating little, and they die slowly in the mines for want of food and rest. We cannot meet the demands yet- We haven't enough strength.
  I urge you to press back the tides, with best you can! You are like brother to me, dear Nickolais. It would break my heart all too over to see us wrent apart bey the needs of our commerce's raging avarice.
  It is but a month until I myself can stand up to my own, and manuver this catastrophe to a calm.
  My people beg me to bring them peace and bread. I cannot deny them; I am feeding them from my own stores as we speak. It is one thing they cannot forbid me to do. They need eat -- But I cannot feed them all.
  Nickolais, wait for me. It's like our long games from years gone past; Wait! I will catch up soon.
  My dear friend, I wish you well.
  Yours sincerely,
  Queen Lenaise F. Maerten the II
  
  
  Dated the monthe of hyding, date tres-none and year two hundred twe'tres
  M'Lady, Lenaise-
  I am well aware of the situation in our countries, but I haven't the time, nor ability to push back my council any longer.
  I assure you, the fault is not of yours.
  We will meet on the eleventh, which is, as I understand, the day you will assume throne entirely.
  I wish you the best, and pray we not come to war.
  King Nickolais of Merdisan

  The weather was foul when the duo finally met. Outside the palace, laborers stalked and sighed, waiting. The tensions were high, and the weather cold and slick.
  Lenaise paced in her Royal chambers, the crown set outside, surrounded by guards. The immense pressure was ill-relieved through the binding corset, and she made a mental note to fire whomever had the wretched idea.
  Sveylt entered the room, bearing a tray of soft glasses, filled with various smells and drink.
  M'lady, the court is waiting for your arrival. They are uneasy--The tempest outside is doing little to help their temperament. I pray a strong show of your appearance will quell their trembling!
  Dear Sveylt, my friend! You've been with me long. You know I cannot quell their quakes when I tremble myself! I'm a leaf in these gusts-- A candle, I fear, I am guttering. I am no inspiration to them.
  M'lady, you must go. They need you. We are near at war-
  Can we not simply agree on peace?
  You know as well as I do that your signature in ink carries more weight than words in these kingdoms. Go to them- You shall light their candles with your own flame. There is nothing to fear.
  T-then, I shall go. Sveylt - Tighten my dress. I need to stand tall for the onslaught_
  
  A short time later, Lenaise descended the stairs, her dress fanning the steps behind her, carrying one lit candle, tapering a foot tall, blazing through the gloom of the storm.
  
  Gentlemen,, she spoke, voice echoing against the rumbles of thunder, I bring you peace.
  She held the candle, as a flas of lightning resounded through the air-- As the light faded her candle was tall, and those of the worried court were extinguished. She gave them each a brilliant smile,
  Bring me your papers.
  And from behind the curtain across the great windows, Sveylt smiled, a large fan clutched in her hands. Sometimes, she mused, it takes a bit of help..

  
  It was shortly declared. The two kingdoms would not go to war-- If Lenaise were to wed the Prince, Nickolais. The general public of both kingdoms was to be kept in the dark, to avoid the offence of outerlaying Kingdoms, whom Nickolais and Lenaise were both requested to court.
  The relationship was bittersweet. Their eventful youth together provided an adequate relationship between to two, but made anything further from friendship an awkward road. But, for the sake of their monarchies, kingdoms, and overall, peace, they both agreed.
  Lenaise was to go over by the seas beneath the borders of the two kingdoms. The date set was sunny and bright, and though she was saddened by leaving her home, she knew it was for the best.
  She stood on the dock, her cloak wrapped around her. Her personal effects would arrive upon her letter, so she would not be recognized. Against the bustling crowds she looked plain, and the harbor roared with life. She inhaled the salt winds bitterly,
  Jeran, saviour of Meridell, let me travel safely! Nereid, sing me serenity.
  Shutting her eyes and clasping her hands, she exhaled softly. The dock swayed before her from the tide, and she stepped forward, head high as the breeze caught her curls.
  She stepped aboard the ship, and moved to set sail to a new life.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 4 : The Fall
  
  

  From the log of Captain Vendy, of the S.S. Tailfins
  Daet'd this fourth of Store'ng, Yr Twe Undred Twen'Four
  Shipp sette out from port this more'ng. We have the Queen with us-- Very valuable transports. We wille be locale heroes iffin we get her to the capetal of Nicolae.
  Shippe is in good condition, winds are at 17 kilometers. Clouds setting in from easte; Can avoid with canny skills of Crooky. Hes fine swell navigator.
  Supplies at maximum; We are not to spoil the princess but not to deprive her at our own greedy intake either.
  Caught a stow-away. Little Ogrin fellow. Tinsy thing--Thoot about throwing him overboard by the Magestee objected. He is with her now; she is telling him storees.
  End log: dinner bell tolls.

  seventh of storeing
  Ogrin is making trouble. Caught stealing biscuits.
  Magestee is a nuisence in nautical ways. Won't let us carree out punishments. Little does she know that the sea is it's own domain!
  Still, she is only being kinde.
  Wind is at 19....[Log trails off]
  
  From the start of her voyage, she had felt uncomfortable on the ship. Her company was rough and rowdy, noisy and robust in their manners. Her simple clothes itched her skin, and she fretted. The ship didn't treat her too kindly- Her first night was spent in a most undignified fashion, head over the rails.
  She avoided looking at the water after that, remaining in her cabin to herself, seeking two new candles a day. Oil lamps bothered her nose, and the rest of the crew sneered at her stuck-up opinions. But she ate with them, cleaned with them, and slept in the same quarters-- She'd refused anything else.
  It was a begrudging relationship, until the stowaway had been located. They'd been at sea most three days while the crew had been complaining of missing items. Blaming the blackened luck of a woman aboard ship, Lenaise was not held in particularly high esteem. When Crooky, the navigator, had found a young ogrin asleep in an hollowed barrel and dragged him to deck with the whip, Lenaise had interfered.
  
  Stop! You cannot harm him, he's but a child--
  Crooky had sneered, Just a child? The durnn'd lad is a stowaway! 'Ere to steal our fame an' food. He's no use-- A rat in our cargo!
  He raised his hand, the whip in the air, and Lenaise stepped forward as he swung downward, and caught it around her wrist. She pulled back sharply, eyes narrowed, and acid in her tone,
  I said stop, and you shall do as I say. I am your queen, and you shall respect me as such.
  Crooky pulled back, startled.
  Ye wouldn' dare. This shippe may be yon, Majesty, but the rules are bound by the sea.
  Narrowing his eyes, he let go of the boy, not taking his eyes from Lenaise, who stared back with a resolute calm, There's a storm comin on. I suggest ye get below deck.
  He hurried off. Lenaise was left with the small boy, a green ogrin, both shaking in their boots. A rumble of thunder hit the sails, and the wind slowly began to pick up. Pursing her lips, Lenaise turned to the boy, offering him her hand,
  Let's get from the rain, dear. What is your name?
  The boy didn't speak, taking her hand and looking down. She watched him for a moment, and he spoke, finally.
  
  They's called me orfan, miss. Don't have name, nor home. I deserved that whippin. Shouldna' stopped him. Poore luck.
  Lenaise pulled him to her and knelt, speaking to him softly,
  Luck is only used by those who know not how to command a situation. Now, below deck. I'll warm you and we can discuss where you're to be headed after this. I don't think these boats suit either of us.
  He nodded quietly, and they moved below deck, as the rain began to patter down.
  
  

  ---

  It was a short time later that the bells on deck were ringing, and the captain roared into the wind,
  All hands on deck! We've a tempest-- Buckets, cloths, anythin' to rid of th' floodin! All hands!
  His roar was drowned by the thunder, and his eyes widened as he turned to the back of the ship,
  
  By Nereid's claws..
  He was silenced by a crash of thunder, and the tumult of the tidal wave striking the ship with massive force.
  

  ---

  The remnants of the S.S. Tailfins washed up on the shores of Merdisan only days later. The captain went with his ship, but Crooky and a few of the few members remaining were rescued by a flotsam retrieval team.
  There was no sign of the princess, nor the stowaway to be found across any area of the sea. The wreckage, the sea floor, and coasts were all scoured with a fine-toothed comb, but all that was found of Lenaise was her veil, clinging to some seaweed by a cliffside.
  Nickolais went into mourning.
  Itevica was shut down by it's loss. The millers and the bakers, the miners, the wives, the children, their fathers, the country was in a state of shock.
  Food supplies ran scarce; The wave had no only demolished the S.S. Tailfins, but a large portion of the granary crops above the cliffs. It was too wet to plant, and the waters exploded large dams, collapsing mines and towns in their wake.
  The summer encroached, with it a drought. Itevica became a desert- and when fall came, with heavy rains, and a winter too warm for snow, it became mired into a swamp.

  The country, so ruined and lost, was signed over to Merdisan. In hopes of reviving it's former glory, the capital Lenuice was established.
  Itevica was too full of crime and poverty to recognize the attempt, however, and it fell into ruins.
  The beautiful castle by the cliffs, overlooking all of it's once-proud kingdom, fell into disrepair.
  Eventually, Itevica was abandoned. Nickolais never recovered from his grief, and while he went on to father a son, Nickolais the second, he spent the rest of his days in a room alone.
  
  Every year on the day of her loss, he would ride a lone carriage through the wild and desolate marshes of Itevica, and climb the creaking stairs to the top of the tower where she had once rested, and light a single, solitary candle into the window, every year, until his death.
  
  That candle still burns today-- Dutiful and strong, awaiting the return of glory to the once proud kingdom.

  The veil of the princess was clutched in Nickolais' hands the day of his death.
  He was buried with it, in a great tomb beneath the cliffs of Itevica, looking up at the candle. It is said every year, his ghost can be seen wandering up the tower.
  
  It is also rumored that Lenaise survived--- But now, it has been three generations since. The rumor exists in memory, but has largely been forgotten.
  Nickolais the IV has just relinquished control of the kingdom to his sons, Odearte and Cnihthad.
  And soon, events are to be set in motion that stir even the hearts of ghosts into action--
  But it's just another dribble of wax down the candle of history, now.

  --The End--
  ?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 5 : Resurrecting Ghosts
  
  **Spolier alerts for the stories of Odearte & Cnihthad***
  
  This final chapter takes place some two hundred years after Lenaise's disappearance. The two aforementioned brothers, Odearte and Cnihthad, are in a rival lock for the throne. Cnihthad has betrayed his brother, Odearte-- For when Odearte had gone hunting, the cruel prince sent after his brother a troupe of mercenaries, lead by an assassin who goes by "Rogue."
  Odearte has been sprawled off the trail, shot down by a lone arrow. Convinced he is dead, the mercenaries return to the castle for their reward. Cnihthad has taken over the throne-- And Odearte is left in the woods alone.
  Nursed to health now by the aide of a young woman in an abandoned Itevican village, Odearte and Pendolare, the young woman, have set off to return to Merdisan to return Odearte to the throne and avenge himself against his brother.
  But the path through the woods is a dangerous one, and they wind up quite lost...

  Odearte stood, a bow clutched in his hands against the wilderness. Pendolare quaked alongside him, but her eyes were fierce and determined, a throwing knife clutched in her paw. Odearte peered through the trees, brow narrowed, and spoke,
  Who goes?
  The wind rustled the trees, sending chills up their spines as the air howled with the movement of branches through hollowed space. It stilled, suddenly, and they felt a warmth alongside them.
  Something brushed past Pendolare, and she turned-
  Her eyes widened. Before her floated an apparition, a spirit of the woods-
  
  
  Yet this one was seeped in history and familiarity. Queen Lenaise of Itevica smiled upon them, a candle in her hands, lighting the figure, but not the air around her.
  Be not afraid. I know of yon plight.
  I was as lost once as you are now- The rumors of my life were not too exaggerated. But I had lost who I was... She looked away momentarily, down at the candle. Odearted nodded quietly,
  Y-you, you're the spirit of the lost queen...The one whom has a candle lit for her every year.
  She smiled and looked up, nodding,
  It is good to know the tradition has not died.
  But hark, yon prince. I shall return with the justice done to you!
  I haven't time, much. Ghosts follow my move, ones less benevolent than I. Be brave. Hark, I have a message from the first great king and I.
  She hovered momentarily, wavering briefly. She looked behind her in alarm-- The wind picked up. Quickly, she turned to speak again
  Prince of fortune, fates befell,
  Listen..