?nnywella walks out to the third-floor balcony of the library, overlooking the forecourt of The College of the Three Moons. A dark-stained wooden podium stands before her; the Herst family crest sits raised in gold on the front, and the signature oak leaf and acorn motif lines the edges. Standing between her and the podium is a small wooden stool—Kolaus must be getting a chuckle out of this.
She stands up on the stool and braces her hands against the podium, still woozy from the bloodletting an hour prior. She looks up from the paper before her. Once the letters come into focus, the speech she had written with assistance from advisor Claus the night prior.
Thousands stand beneath her, as far as she can see; the forecourt is filled, peasants press against the shields of the barricade of guards directly below her, guarding the side door to the great hall of the college; the main gates are open, freeing up space for a few extra people; the bridge over Aelura’s Strait that connects to the forecourt is filled, people overflowing into the streets of the Artisan District; the
Just as Colaus had said, thousands will come from all around Ianya to see The Autumn Queen. She didn’t need to see all of them to believe him; she is the first true queen of Herst blood in over five hundred years, crowned in autumn, born on the equinox. He had said the superstitious people have been seeing this as a sign of the incipient decline of Herst rule or the death of Ianyan culture—some even both.
The superstitions of the people got to her; originally, she was fond of the name, from her auburn hair, hazel eyes, and her closet primarily of warm fall colors—the name suited her. Now she fears the name as though embracing it reifies the death of her kingdom, kin, and culture.
She takes a deep breath, autumn air cleansing her lungs and clearing her head; she briefly glances at the paper on the podium and begins her speech.
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"Hear me, loyal folk of the Crown Isles, loyal folk of the Kingdom of the Great Moon of Our Lady, and those of you who have taken the time to travel from my dispossessed lands to hear the voice of their true monarch; hear me now and listen well! My family has laid an ancestral claim to this land since 4682 EotTS, and we ruled kind, we ruled just, we ruled virtuously."
"I look at the maps of our beautiful land, our beautiful Ianya, and I shudder... I shudder at how divided we have become, I *grimace* in disdain as my soul sinks into despair at the rivers which stem from this very caldera which once provided fresh water to settlements, towns, and family now represent nothing but the fractured borders of my, yours, *our*, once great land, and the division of the last race of the truly faithful of Gedhagnyr and how the Wylh?lmian ideals which flow pure from this mountain become diluted by decadant, degenerate, and hedoistic false monarchs—each of which are to scared to bleed for the Ianyans of the future as they know they will bleed nothing but the blood of the usurpers that sired them."
"How can the men who falsely deem themselves soverigns over *our* land rule fair and just, when they wage war with mercinaries—do they not trust those who they claim to lead? Or do they know they have the true ability to lead them? How can the men who falsely deem themselves soverigns rule with the best interests of their people at the forefront of their minds when they neglect the women who will sire their heir—show me a Herst bastard and I shall show you a virtuous follower of the Magistrate!"
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"I, like all of my blood, reject these ideals of self-service, for what value does one have if he or she neglects the future, and focuses only on ephemeral pleasures—how can the folk place trust in someone who is not prudent enough to prepare themselves for the cold Ianyan winters. There is nothing more important to a monarch than their people, and we have proven that to you; in all my life, I have not once heard of a man, woman, or child dying in the cold winters from a lack of shelter or food, for we know that we must look out for our own!"
"Nearly five hundred years ago, corrupt men took advantage of a grieving Ianya following the untimely death of ?thalrykk III; they changed the taxes, stripped the land of its value, and made it so vassals could decide how much the people paid off of whim? And how did this end? I am sure we are all aware—families starved in the winters because the lords refused to give them even the slightest bit of what they taxed from the poor harvests, and those who did not starve froze as there was not enough warm clothing to go around. But history is history, it exists for us to learn from and to grow prudent off the mistakes of our ancestors, and here we are, five-hundred years later this still happens outside *our* kingdom, will you stand for that? *our* Ianya brothers and sister starve in the winters as these fools who dare claim the title of sovereign refuse to offer a helping hand to those who serve them. My stores of food are always open to those in need, the soup kitchens around this city are stocked with food from my stores, and will always have a lit hearth to warm those from the cold—for this is the purpose of a monarch, to lead and protect their people!"
"I speak highly of my blood, but do not let this confuse you, for all the feats of my ancestors were not achieved on their own; anyone who stands before you and tells you that they will do everything on their own lies to themselves and attempts to deceive you, but we see through it; we know the truth—behold what the hands of the Ianyan people built. These are not the feats of a single family; they are the feats of the iron will of the people guided by a monarch who seeks to represent the greatest aspects of their subjects." She motions to a tower to her right. “The burial towers are built in remembrance of two things.”
“Firstly, what is possible; each one stands to remind you of what can be built in the lifetime of one monarch; on each brick is inscribed an achievement of the people, no matter how big or how small; to remind you of the feats of the past; to inspire you to build greater feats in the future.”
“Secondly, they stand to remind me that I am only as strong as the people on whom my kingdom is built—one day I shall rest on the feats we achieved together.”
“So tell me.” She leans forward towards the crowd, raising her raspy voice as loud as she can. “Tell me: are you strong enough to build the future promised for the next generations?”
A large portion of the crowd, as far as ?nnywella can see, responds. “YES, MY QUEEN!”
“Can I entrust my reign to you?”
“YES, MY QUEEN!”
“My people of The Crown, I ask but one more thing of you: do you grant me rule in your name?”
“YES, MY QUEEN!”
"Then on this fine autumn day I stand before you to declare myself the last monarch of the Kingdom of the Great Moon of Our Lady for I shall finish the dream my father started twenty-eight years ago and unify Ianya once more; and to this I give you my word for, I refuse to be laid to rest as Gekaryna Herst IV owe'the Kingdom of the Great Moon of Our Lady—I will be laid to rest atop a tower that pierces the sky as Gekaryna Herst IV owe'Ianya. And I shall do this with your faith, your loyalty, your voices, and your strength, I shall lead you through the autumn, the faithless so fear, and into a new epoch. We shall finish what our ancestors have entrusted to us; we shall reunite Ianya and its people with a sovereign of Herst blood as a figurehead under the watchful eye of aela’Luhnylla—we will reclaim the future we were promised. I look forward to walking in the grand future we will build shoulder to shoulder with you all. You are all dismissed.”
Concluding her speech, she shakes her arms out in front of her and crosses them, looking out across the sea of people; she licks her teeth as a grin forms across her face. She stands there for a moment before returning inside the library.
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Life isn’t some kind of grand destiny.
It’s just a collection of decisions shaped by the moments that happen around us.
Of Moon and Magic follows a silver-haired girl. Her mana was weak, but that never dulled her hunger for magic.
We follow her steps. We weigh her choices. We sit with her loneliness. In a world where magic is everything, war is constant, and morality is little more than a neglected guideline.
Will she become just another cog in the machine?
Or will she be the one to end it all?
Only one way to find out.
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