(IRP) The Scars of Time

[Nocturne]

Present Time

Nocturne frowned, the events that led up to the duel leaving a more bitter taste in his mouth than the fact that it transpired. Ophelia had been a friend, an ally in times where Bravia most needed help. Obviously something had spurred her into the current actions, but it didn't seem that they were purely chaotic, more like a quixotic quest for her own purposes, for she fully understood the consequences of her actions, even as she took them. Perhaps the most striking thing was when they agreed to the duel, she had asked for something if she lost. Not uncommon amongst dueling factions, but the request was something that Nocturne took as odd, because he knew the person that Ophelia asked to be found. Knew her quite well, in fact - Dahlia, though he hadn't known her by the name the woman mentioned in many moonruns.

But the duel had already been pledged before the mages, and once engaged, there wasn't a turning back. So the death would hopefully be a mercifully swift one to whichever party might emerge the victor. He had made a trip to Fenia that night and sought out Dahlia, letting her know the course that was plotted, and that death of one or the other would be the likely result. And only once that death occurred would he be able to determine the truth of the woman's words. Once the event was done, it was hollow - exasperatingly hollow - as the honorable duel had been soiled in the process. He wandered back down the path to his caverns, staring at the shadowed stone walls blankly as if letting everything process.

[Ophelia]

Some time ago

"I spoke to my wife. We will allow you one tie to our child." The male's voice tried to be soft, but truth be told he didn't hide the razors at the end of his words well. The young woman turned to face him. Tears burned her eyes as they dripped down her eyelids.

"This child is mine. She has Lannister blood." The voice of the girl was meek and softly spoken almost unheard over the chatter on the other end of the house.

"Choose a name. That's all you get." The man loomed over her, and his shadow expanded to the length of four of her. This mass of shadow had help with the positioning of the sunlight allowed in from the curtained window. Through the doorway he paused to turn and offer her a knowing smirk. "Well, you did help to create our child. Lady Winterbourne is anxious for the birth." He left those words with her, and she gulped down the glass of warm milk beside her with a somber expression.

January 10, 1638

The labored breaths of the girl were quick like racing Grey Hounds. Synchronized between the shrieks of the unbearable pain. The screams finally had company as the nurse in front of her held the baby before her.

The late teen mother's hands rose up to accept the baby, but after the dagger stroke the umbilical chord they took her away to the wet nurse. "No..no let me see her." The words almost inaudible how soft they were spoke over the deep breaths the girl took. She pleaded as the women patched her up and checked on her own vitals.

Pain gave her force and she used that force to shove one of the nurses away to grab fistfuls of air.

"Let me see, Dahlia."

Present Time

A delicate hand tucked a silver golden wavy strand behind her ear. She glanced over the worn parchments she had brought with her. The only things in her simple life that made her smile. The worn and torn painted portrait of her beloved. It poisoned her heart to watch the life evacuate from his gaze. Silently she pondered if the same would happen to her that night of the arena.

To think she went from being invisible to being a fugitive was.. insane. Ophelia stood up and peered out the window. There was only one mission to bring her to this land, and the shadow man confirmed his knowledge of Dahlia. If the Lady Winterbourne could see such events unfold, surely hell would have ignited her. Maybe that's what the fallout of all this was. The orchestration to keep her like the good silent child she had first came to be.

The shadow man was right about one thing. This world only knew one thing - force, action. A voice was just as useless to her as it was back in 1638. As it is now she still feels the pain of some of the injuries sustained at the duel. Who would have known that even then - the government had to prove it had the force to bring her down.

They didn't know that it might take Ophelia some time... but she never stayed down.

[Nocturne]

Present Time

The revolt of the Town Hall hadn't really fazed Nocturne, nor had the lack of actions that surrounded it from most of the people. He had come to both be amused and disappointed by the actions, but when called upon, the people usually responded. He at some times pondered if awareness training, like the ancient Far East practiced, would have been beneficial to the country. He smiled faintly in memory of YenLan, and some of their conversations, before his focus returned to the matter at hand.

Inaction and Apathy could've very well been twin serpents that lived in the land he'd come to call home in the past years, as only when something struck a nerve did people rise up and act, it seemed to him some days. One of those things was the updating of old laws that Ophelia had done, something that was just left sitting around, always passing from one mayor to the next, from one council to the next, and so forth. It lacked decisiveness, finality. And Ophelia took it upon herself to get some of those things done, and was largely shouted down by people for trying to act in the interests of those who lived there, her words seeming to fall upon deaf ears. Yet she listened to their anger...to their words, and agreed to reverse the laws, with people saying that they would work to fix them afterwards.

That never happened. The halls grew thick with dust again, just as they had before the brief spark of an argument that had arisen. And nothing was ever done, once the cause of the irritation had vanished, the threat posed less of an immediate annoyance, and people went back about their lives. Nocturne perhaps knew all too well Ophelia's frustrations with things, but when she'd attacked him and some of the family - however unintentional it might have been - he knew at that point that words weren't going to accomplish anything at this time either. And to defend those he'd promised to shield, he stepped forward to do what was necessary, raising a hand to the army to have them stand down when instead, single combat was agreed upon. After all, it was a matter of honor, from someone he had respected since they had first met in the wild lands, and that friendship would be honored, regardless of the outcome.

The curved edge of the blade glimmered a deep purple when he drew it forth. "I am more deeply sorry that this has gone as a pledge before the mages with what I know now than you might imagine, Ophelia. And I have already let Dahlia know of your presence...so come what may, I will see you meet this woman that you claim is your daughter. As I also expect tonight, assuming both of us end drawing blood, that I will likely know the truth of your words to verify for her. And likely, you have quite a lot more of that story to tell me."