A Sanctuary for the Crownless

. ݁₊ ⊹ 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘸𝘭, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥-𝘶𝘱 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴. . ݁˖ . ݁

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From the Office of the Envoy,
An Open Declaration Regarding the Recent Imperial Succession Adjustments

It is with great, ne- immense sorrow that we in the Enlightened Capital observe the recent decree regarding the Imperial succession and the plight of Prinz Wilhelm Sigismund von Lichtenfelts. The Azari'cill, being the gracious and ever-charitable people that we are, understand the challenges of a sudden… adjustment in one's station. It must be a heavy burden, dear Prinz, to bear the weight of such... familial politics upon your mortal shoulders.

Therefore, in an act of pure benevolence befitting our enlightened culture, the Dominion formally extends an invitation of asylum to Prinz Wilhelm. The Glade, in its infinite grace and wisdom, provides the ideal refuge for one seeking to escape the stifling constraints of Imperial intrigue. Here, you will find peace, reflection, and perhaps even a shred of dignity amidst the towering spires and gentle breezes of the Azari lands.

While we cannot promise a throne, we can assure you an existence befitting those who find themselves… displaced by unfortunate circumstances. Should you find yourself weary of Imperial politics or simply in need of a place to rest your undoubtedly heavy crownless head, you are welcome as a guest of the Dominion.

We await your reply with bated breath and slightly raised brows.
May your steps forward be lighter than the ones that led you here, Prinz.

Signed,
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Pricecili and Envoy of the Dominion of Corithiel

In Service to la’Cilmeri and the Glade

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[!] A proud eagle flies around the capital of Luminion, lowering only once it sees Sy'dra, dropping her a letter and a few copies of it where it passed. The letter carried no sygil, but it was undboubtedly Wilhelm's letter and signature. It was public. [!]

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Dearest Princess Sy’dra,

It is with a curious blend of gratitude and amusement that I, Prinz Wilhelm Sigismund von Lichtenfelts, acknowledge your gracious invitation to the hallowed lands of the Glade. The Azari'cill’s wisdom and benevolence shine as brightly as the spires you so poetically describe, and your concern for my well-being, wrapped as it is in the finest silk of wit, is nothing short of remarkable.

I must confess, the image of me wandering beneath the gentle canopies of the Glade, my “crownless head” finally unburdened, is a vision so fantastical it could only have been conjured by minds as imaginative as your own. Alas, the soil of the Empire, though not as elevated as the Dominion's lofty ideals, remains the ground upon which I shall make my stand.

Your invitation is a testament to the boundless charity of the Dominion. To offer refuge to one so evidently undeserving of the Glade’s enlightened airs is a kindness that does not escape me. Yet, with all due respect, I must decline. You see, while the spires of the Glade may reach the heavens, they do not reach high enough to overshadow the pride I carry in my Imperial lineage.

On the matter of heavy crowns and weighty burdens, I am reminded of another occasion upon which we crossed paths—though, admittedly, not in the spirit of diplomacy. Our duel remains a vivid memory, as does the outcome. I hope the next time we meet, you might find victory as sweet as I did that day.

Know, dear Princess, that I remain unbroken, even as the winds of change batter my station. And should you ever tire of the Glade’s unending enlightenment or find the weight of your crown heavy upon your brow, I, too, would extend my own invitation. It would be without the gilded embellishments, of course, but no less sincere in spirit.

I wish you peace, wisdom, and perhaps a touch of humility in the days to come.

Signed,

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. ݁₊ ⊹ 𝘈 𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘸𝘭, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘺, 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥-𝘶𝘱 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. . ݁˖ . ݁

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Dearest Prinz Wilhelm,

Your reply has reached my hands. Your refusal to accept the Dominion’s gracious invitation is both expected and, I daresay, commendable. After all, who are we, the "enlightened" and "elevated" to offer sanctuary to one so evidently content with the earthy charms of Avalheim's rugged colony?

Congratulations are in order, of course! To ascend to the role of Guardian of the Mines is no small feat. Such a station demands immense fortitude, unparalleled diligence and perhaps an affection for the company of rocks. I am certain the Empire's citizens will sleep soundly knowing that the Avalheim's rocks are under your vigilant watch. Truly, the stones themselves must tremble with gratitude at your protection.

I eagerly anticipate visiting Avalheim myself to witness firsthand the security you bring to the realm of ores and minerals.
As for our duel, I assure you, should the occasion arise again, I will to provide you with yet another experience worthy of your reminiscences.

May the Light guide your path. Especially in the mines, where natural light is so often absent.

With sincere regards,

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[!] More letters come, this time from Avalheim as Wilhelm has begun to settle in. [!]

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To the Princess of Luminion,

Your attempt at humor is as flimsy as your swordplay—a spectacle, yes, but lacking any real substance. If rocks and mines are the best jabs your "enlightened" mind can conjure, I’d suggest sticking to whatever courtly gossip keeps you entertained in the Glade.

As for our duel, the lesson was clear: skill triumphs over pretense. Should you wish to relive it, I’ll gladly remind you of your place beneath Imperial steel.

Enjoy your towers, Princess. I’ll be busy guarding lands that matter.

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. ݁₊ ⊹ 𝘈 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘤𝘢𝘸, 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺. 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘢.

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵: . ݁˖ . ݁

Dearest Prinz Wilhelm,

I heard these herbs are particularly effective for calming nerves and soothing womanly monthly discomforts. I hope they bring you the relief you so clearly need.

With utmost sincerity,
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