King's Colors NaNoWriMo

WC: 1,111 words

Sascha Frei

Age: 21
Status: Commoner
Aura: Tzar violet flecked with pure silver (Morning Stars)

Sascha was born as the only child of two middle class parents. Her father was an architect and her mother a confectioner at a local bakery. They lived in the house of her father’s family, with both of her parents working and her retired grandmother and grand aunt taking care of the young Sascha. Her life was entirely normal until her mother caught a bad fever when Sascha was 12 that left her permanently weakened and short of breath. She had trouble breathing in the city they were living in, and the doctor recommended for her to move to the coast where the fresh air could help her get better. Sascha’s father couldn’t leave his work, however, as he and her grandfather were running a successful architect’s office that the family lived off. It was decided for Sascha’s mother to relocate to a spa town on the northern coast of the country for her health, which lead to a separation of the family. What was supposed to be temporary solution became a permanent fixture when it became apparent that whenever she was back in the city, her mother quickly fell ill again. She found a part-time job at a bakery in the spa town and started to live her own life there. Sascha and her father still visited a few times a year, but even she realized that while they still liked each other, the distance that made them fall out of love with another. They never divorced and stayed friends, but their love didn’t return either.

Around that time the first mentions of a possible war in the colonies were made, and tensions started to run high even in the country proper. Preparations began, weapons production rose, soldiers were recruited, posters with war slogans were everywhere. Her grandfather died from a heart attack in his sleep when Sascha was 16, and not even a year later the war began in earnest and her father was conscripted to join the army and fight. He had to close the architect’s office, temporarily, as he thought, and left his family with enough savings to get by in the year or so he would be gone. A year didn’t remain a year, however, and when it was four and the war had ended he still hadn’t come back. Gone missing, most likely died in the name of duty, the official report said.

Sascha always did well in school. She was never at the top of her class, but she remained one of the best students throughout her entire school career, with decent to good grades and a very even average across the different subject. There was no one subject she excelled in, but also none she was bad in. That meant that while she did well she never particularly stood out either. Like all children she had a group of friends that she played and later hung out with, but once had they finished their education and the war started they were all to occupied with themselves to keep up with their regular meetings.

What Sascha had always liked to do was to organize things. Not her desk, that was always cluttered with papers, pens, and whatnot else, but the important things. Her books and her clothes were always neatly put in the same place, her notes when finished were organized into folders that were properly labeled, when she had to go shopping she always had a list with her. It was something that made her feel good, to know that she had put things where they could be found or had made sure nobody would forget anything. The one time they went to a school trip in her second to last year, she had selected all the locations they could go to, had checked were the best museums were and which restaurant was recommended for groups to eat in.

Sascha liked structure. She was good at structuring things.

When she left school and the master looked at her aura, she was happy with her violet and silver. The school recommended her for a scholarly profession, something that involved people but would still allow her to study and grow. Her father knew a construction crew who had helped renovating the city library, and without much fanfare Sascha ended up becoming the apprentice of the old librarian.

The job wasn’t exactly what she would have picked, but the old man was friendly and patient, even if his hearing was horrible, and she got to sort through as many books as she wanted. It was a safe place, or as safe one could be with the potential of a war looming over all of them.

Then the war actually came and her father was conscripted into the force. He’d been smart enough to guess what would happen before, had closed his architect’s office temporarily until they, him and his partner, who went to the same battalion, would be back. His family had savings, they would be alright until he came back – but he didn’t come back, not for the over four years the war lasted, and not after either. By the time they signed the act of surrender, the money was gone for a while already, Sascha, her grandmother and her grand aunt living from their pensions and her meager income. Her mother sent them money sometimes, but the house needed to be heated, the electricity to be kept running… they made it, but by the end they’d gone from pretty well-off to barely getting by.

Her master and teacher died a few months shy of the war’s end. He’d been 71 then, with a weak heart, bad knees, hearing problems and rheumatism. Sascha grieved for him, Karl Sommer, a man who had no family left to come to his grave, but hundreds of friends and other people, people who’d known him all their lives, a man with a kind smile and an unquestionable love for books.

Sascha became the new librarian, not in title, because nobody high up cared enough for the matter with what was going on in the colonies, but left to her own devices, to make do and make the best of the situation. Her hours got longer, the work started piling up, there was more to do than she had hands for.

The announcement of their defeat was what brought some order back into the country, now that the politicians started to focus on what was going on inside their own state again. The government would be largely replaced, both commoners and nobles, positions opened up, at least those higher up, and when the announcements were made that new archivists for both the House of Lords and the House of Commons were wanted… Sascha knew this was a chance. It would pay well, more than they’d ever give her if they actually made her the new librarian of the their city. Her grandma and auntie were getting old. Her mother was still sick. There wasn't any reason not to try.

She went and applied.

WC: 1,188 words

Ernestina Katherine von Bernkastel-Crux

Age: 33 years
Status: Noble, Archduchess of Bernkastel, Duchess of Crux
Aura: Blood red with blotches of pure black (Battle's Dawn)

Reducio

The only child of the former Archduchess of Bernkastel and the Duke of Crux. Her mother tried to get with child for decades and married three times, the third marriage resulting in her only child at the age of 46 years. Ernestina’s father was considerably younger than his wife, aged 39 at the birth of his first daughter. As the only heir to both the Bernkastel and the Crux families, Ernestina went to inherit both titles, making her the highest ranking noble in the country at birth (only 2 other families hold Archduke titles, but none of them hold any additional titles at the moment). As a result she was groomed for the big stage from early childhood, taught in all matters that would benefit a woman who would come to hold immense political power and needed the skill to navigate the minefield that was the House of Lords.

Ernestina’s mother died when she was 19 years old. By that time she had an 8 year old half-sister, Claire, who was the daughter of her father and a commoner, a seamstress without any money or other values to boast about. As a child of a commoner and a noble, her father would have had to petition for his second daughter to be accepted as the heir to his family, which Ernestina’s mother would have never accepted as she had seen this as taking her rightful inheritance away from their daughter to give to a common girl undeserving of the title.

The thing was that Ernestina actually loved her little sister, loved her a lot more than her mother who had wanted a child more to keep the family line alive than because she wanted to have a family. She argued for her mother to not be petty about one more title, when the Bernkastel family already held considerable power, but the woman would not see reason. She made her wishes clear before she died, destroying any chances of a majority of the House of Lords voting in Ernestina’s father’s favor, should the case be brought up.

That was the first crack. The one that started it all.

When her father died she was 28, now a double title holder, with the power to influence important votes her way, to use her political sway to change the fate of her country, should she wish to… they called her one of the government’s leading figures, a woman that inspired both fear and respect in others, a leader, someone who could get whatever they wanted – but she couldn’t.

The things Ernestina wanted to change, the things that mattered, were forever out of her reach. Power, she had learned, was an illusion, because no amount of political influence could change a country itself, could change the very foundation their state had been built upon.

Then came Sascha Frei, and with nothing to lose, Tina took a gamble.

(She has long, dark brown hair and eyes, and the typical pale skin color common for nobles. By society’s standards she is considered beautiful, with long legs, a slim figure and a fencer’s muscles. She has a mole on her right cheek and a thin scar on the back of her right hand.)

WC: 562

Marcellin von Trebra

Age: 24 years
Status: Noble, Baron of Trebra
Aura: Cerulean

Reducio

Marcellin is the second son of the former Baron of Trebra. His older brother August (V) of Trebra was the heir of the family, and as a second son Marcellin had more freedom in both his upbringing and his life choices than August. His mother doted on her second-born and gave him considerably more attention than his brother, who their father had taken under his wing early on. The brothers were only 3 years apart in age and had a close relationship despite the different expectations put on them. Marcellin looked up to August, who adored his baby brother.

Despite being the lowest rank of nobility the family was well-off, if lacking in political influence. Their father had high hopes for his sons, however, and wished for both to become a part of the government to bring more fame to the family name. The Baron himself was a member of the Umber party, who were big supporters of expanding the nation’s colonization program and accordingly pushed to join the war when it became clear that the question was not if it would happen, but rather when. Their father saw a chance for the Trebra family to earn glory and gain influence.

Marcellin’s brother had been groomed to be become the next family head, and joined the army to make connections of his own with nobles of his age. He was a young man, and most army commanders were nobles, so there was fun to be had, drills to be organized, a war to be ready for. The colonies were far away, though, and all of the young men had been there on holidays only, to enjoy the warm climate and other pleasures they had to offer. August wasn’t a good shot, knew how to fence but not how to wield a proper sword, had grown to like the army for the friends he had made there and not the prospect of being involved in slaughter.

They sent him to war regardless, but he never came home. Only his casket did. They’d found him in a ditch in the 3rd year, died with his battalion, lured into a trap by their enemies. His family only learned of it when their country had signed the surrender and they brought back the bodies.

Suddenly Marcellin, who enjoyed reading, poetry and science, novels and history books and biographies, was the heir to a family who had gambled high and lost. The political sway his father and brother had gained was lost, gone when they’d lost the war, their family shamed in the eyes of the public for supporting what shouldn’t have happened.

His father stepped down from the title, and 24-year-old Marcellin, who’d wanted to became a novelist maybe or an archivist even if he was lucky, who’d had the best tutors and been praised for his scholarly disposition, was the new Baron. The family seat in the House of Lords was his now, as was the responsibility to redeem their line the eyes of the nation.

His chance came earlier than he had expected: new archivists for both houses were need, the old ones shamed and unfit for their positions, and where a few years back Marcellin would have been delighted to be a candidate, he was now one of the four nobles assigned to tour the country to review applications.

(He has dark brown hair and blue eyes and his skin nobility-pale. His hair has been cut short in a style that obviously doesn’t fit him, and his short arms have his sleeves hanging over his wrists, making him always look too small for the clothes he is wearing.)

WC: 621

Falk Reinhardt

Age: 41 years
Status: Commoner, war mage, General of the Royal Mage Battalion
Aura: Raw umber with spots of dark red (Commoner’s Blood)

Reducio

Falk Reinhardt is the Commander of the Royal Mage Battalion, a description that is wholly misleading as to what his actual position is. The Royal Mage Battalion stopped being royal when the last king died some 300 and something years ago, as you cannot represent a monarchy that doesn’t exist. It hasn’t been a battalion either since war mages started to fall out of fashion and the government gradually stopped funding their training in favor of creating conventional weapons. What once was a proud cohort of a few hundred men and women shriveled down to a group of just over a dozen – before the Colonial War. Now they are 10, Falk and the 9 other war mages that are still alive. He is a general still, nobody cared enough to abolish the position, but is in name only. The other generals don’t think he’s worth the cost of having around, and while they tolerate him, none of them is interested in his input on current matters. A mage and a commoner, a relic of past glory, that’s what Falk is to them with his ceremonial robes and ancient war staff.

Another man would be bitter. Another man would feel slightest. Another man would revolt, would thirst for revenge. Falk does none of that. His parents were farmers, he learned to live modestly early. His younger brother and sister died from the Grey Claw when he was still a boy and now he is too old to properly remember them, mourning their memory more than he mourns them. His magic was what saved them: saved his parents from having to feed one more mouth, saved him from sharing their fate and growing up to be another piss-poor potato farmer. His parents own their own fields now, had two more children, twin boys, have hired help and the money to afford what every other middle class family can afford.

Becoming a battle mage gave him everything he had dreamed of as a boy. For the first two decades it gave him purpose and pride. Then came the war. Now it has also brought him sorrow and grief and a deep-seated disgust for the men and women in whose name he had to kill, in whose name is comrades had to die. In the end the whole war was for nothing… or wasn’t it?

(He is tall and broad-shouldered, with an angular face and a three-day stubble that suits him but is entirely unfashionable in the society he lives in. His hair is brown, his eyes have the silvery color of any mage in their full power.)

WC: 459 words

Leopold August von Auerswald

Age: 35 years
Status: Noble, Archduke of Auerswald, Minister of Finance
Aura: Morning Blue

Leopold von Auerswald is the most politically involved of the three Archdukes, a prominent member of the Umber Party and the Minister for Finance in his second term now. His family made their money with speculations on property, and with their good instincts and wealth amassed more money from one year to the next. Being almost the same age as the Archduchess of Bernkastel, they were introduced as children, forced to be playmates even though they had few things in common even as children. They rivalry only grew with age and it soon became clear that there was no love lost between them, the marriage their parents had speculated on becoming more unlikely every time they argued. As they became adults and old enough to have children of their own, he looked down at her for wasting her potential and not grabbing for power when she had the chance. He bet on the wrong cheetah, however, when backed joining the war in hopes of strengthening both his position in the government and the one of his country among the other nations.

Amalia von Voss

Age: 52 years
Status: Noble, Baroness of Voss, Minister of Health
Aura: Lime

Amalia holds the dubious fame of being the poorest peer in the realm. Her grandfather had a gambling problem and ultimately lost the family everything that wasn’t nailed down. That left them with an old manor and a park they both didn’t have the money to maintain. The family estate largely fell to ruin, they rented away parts of the garden. Her father had to become a carpenter, something that was unheard of, a noble who had to do manual work for a living. It kept his children fed, but for nearly all intends and purposes the Voss had become commoners. Amalia herself wanted to become a nurse from a young age and ironically became well-known for finding a way to combat Grey Claw. Her research and humanitarian efforts made her famous and beloved among the populace, which culminated in the House of Lords nominating her for the position of Minister of Health 7 years ago. She is one of the few members of the Emerald Party who didn’t lose face because of the war – which didn’t come as a surprise considering that she always vocally opposed it.

Marko Caspari

Age: 39 years
Status: Commoner, Minister of Labour
Aura: Russet with spots of pure silver (Autumn Tears)

Marko was a locomotive mechanic, had finished an apprenticeship, gotten a nice job… his life was utterly, boringly normal, until the day one of his coworkers lost an arm in an accident with a steam tank that would have been entirely preventable if their employer had cared for their safety at all. He didn’t, however, and Marko joined the craftsman union. That’s where is involvement in politic started, and it ended 20 years later in his election as the Minister of Labour. A ministry of the commoners, yes, and more than half the nobles hated him simply because he was a commoner holding a Minister’s office, but he finally had the chance to make a difference, a real difference, and he took it. The war destroyed most of what he’d been working for, and now that it’s over he has to start from the ground up again.

Kasimir Ferdinand von Marwitz

Age: 65 years
Status: Noble, Archduke of Marwitz
Aura: Hunter green flecked with burnished bronze (Ancients’ Forest)

Kasimir, unlike the Archduke of Auerswald and Archduchess of Bernkastel, has no overt interest in politics. He is a pianist and composer, a lover of fine arts and benefactor of the capital’s biggest arts school. In contrast to most other nobles, he is not actively using his seat in the House of Lords, even though he would have the leverage to turn votes into his favor, if he truly wished so. His only child is a son, 14 years of age, his mother a commoner, a talented singer who died in childbirth. The Archduke is no member of any party, nor is he known to lean towards one particular faction of the parliament. It’s known that he didn’t think highly of the war, but also didn’t outright oppose it. Some say he is too weak of character to ever pick a side in a battle, but then again they can’t know the Archduke well to speak like this.

WC: 749 words

Will they or won’t they?

Sascha and Ernestina. Tina and Alexandra. All the layers of power dynamics between them.

The middle-aged, experienced woman, who lived a life pull of backstabbing and politics, who has had flings and lovers, who is no stranger to one night and never again but also none to clinging and hoping and having her heart broken. Ernestina, who believes in love, but not for herself. Sascha, who believes in lust but not in love, has no reason to protect her heart because it was never broken, knows the motions but not the emotion. The young woman who is curious and eager and pretends to be neither.

Ernestina, who was born one of the most powerful women in the nation, whose word has meaning simply for the fact that she holds two titles and more money than the average commoner will ever earn in their life. Tina, who has never experienced not being privileged but is still no stranger to the fact that she is, trapped in a society she has come to despise, forced to pretend that she doesn’t. Sascha, born a commoner, a girl like all the others, first better off than some of her friends and then far worse. A young woman poor through circumstances and then elevated for the one thing she couldn’t influence, more at ease in poverty than she ever will ever be in the wealth she is now barred from escaping from.

The Archduchess who rises a commoner above herself because she is desperate, because this is the only real chance she will ever get at change. A woman who knows that her reasons are high treason, that she put power in the hands of a girl who now as the ability to have her killed for what she believes in, who might use it if she sees the truth, because what does she really know about Alexandra? A poor librarian who gets pulled from everything and everyone she knows at the decision of a noblewoman who doesn’t care for her but still has the power to change her life with only a few words. That woman who gave her power, who made her more than she ever wanted to be, who might bring her down as fast as she raised her up if she makes up her mind about Sascha.

Two women who can’t ever be too close, who have as much reason to fear each other as they have to crave one another.

They’re something you want to see happen, that should happen, maybe, but that has a 50/50 chance of exploding in their faces because they want too much. They can’t afford to, neither of them. They know that they can’t, but knowing better has never stopped humans from doing stupid shit and it’s not said that their better judgment will actually make a difference. Get too close to a flame and you will get burned. But if you just swipe your finger through, fast, you will barely notice the heat. That you can’t touch doesn’t mean that you can’t look, can’t imagine, right? But every glance, every thought, pulls you in deeper.

Expectations vs reality. What are a king’s colors? What is it that makes you you? Are you what others want you to be, make you to be?

Does the color make the soul or the soul make the color?

WC: 565 words