Countless thoughts crossed the mind of Matthias Soleander as he lay in a pool of his own blood, his senses submerged in the horrors of the treacherous carnage taking place around him. His was a mind that had never truly rested, not even in his rare moments of placidity, and even now, even here, he could not help but think. And he thought of his wounds, of the traitors who had inflicted them, of the lifelong friends he was losing before his very eyes, of the reasons that could drive a patrician to betray everything and everyone in the Sonveld with a single act of savagery... but all those thoughts were swept away when one oft neglected part of his spirit, the most human part of him, reminded him that he had a son, who was still young, and needed his father.
Some would have wept.
Some would have screamed.
He did neither.
Instead, he rose. His body had never felt heavier. His legs had never felt weaker. But he rose all the same, and he reached for his rapier, and he thought of his son.
Thunder roared outside. In the Sonveld, all storms sounded like there were great lions roaring in the sky, beyond the clouds, reminding the land below which creature ruled supreme above all others.
The Protector sat in silence, quill in hand, and stared at the flashes of pale violet light that would fill the windows of his personal solar. Sunlight had come and gone, yet his letter remained unfinished, the name of Alexandra only half-written.
He glanced down at the expensive paper, and the quill broke in his hand as he squeezed it. So, for a moment, there was sound inside the solar. For a moment, there was life. And then it faded back into stillness. Grief could make corpses of the living, or so had Willemina once said, many years before, when the world had taken her own beloved from her. He could not deny she had been right, as he now found himself feeling that not a single inch of him had any of that spark that had always been there, from the moment they had all been brought to this world, which fueled the fires of the mind, the spirit, the heart and the whole body.
Thunder roared outside.
The woman who entered his solar was not a servant. There were no servants in the Sonveld. She did, however, work in the Sunstone, keeping watch of the halls and rooms during the night, preserving order in a way that only an unarmed woman of a certain age could. She had been here since his father's days, and had carried his brothers in her arms as babes.
"Your excellency, pardon the intrusion..." She said as she held a new moving, whimpering bundle of cloth in her arms. She did not bow, because the patricians were not nobles, and the workers of the palace were not serfs. She did not wait for him to give her leave to approach, for she did not need it. She merely walked towards him, her every step as firm as her hold on that which he had almost allowed his grief to erase from his spirit. Her expression allowed for no dissent, even from the ruler of the Sonveld, as she stood beside him and presented the bundle to him.
Matthias Soleander did not even glance at her from the corner of his eyes. When he spoke, his voice sounded as lifeless as he felt. "Why have you removed it from its cradle?"
"No child should live its first few moments as an orphan, your excellency. Not if it has a father only a few rooms away." She said, and she did not mask her scorn or her sadness. "Hold your son, your excellency. Let him know he has not lost his father as well."
He said nothing, but he did turn his face towards the woman, and looked at the little pink head that could be seen, peaking from the warm fabric. He realized he had not looked at his son, his wife's son, since the day of his birth. He had not bothered to see what he looked like, whether he was the spitting image of his father, his mother, or perhaps both at once. He had not wondered to himself if he would have Alexandra's beautiful brown eyes, or her button nose. He had not thought of his son at all.
His son was pressed into his arms, and Matthias allowed it without a single protest. He only gave the woman a cold stare and a nod, and she departed with a nod of her own. The door closed, and soon thunder roared again beyond the windows, eliciting a cry from the child in his arms. At last, he allowed himself to look, to think of something other than his mourning, and he saw that the child had a bit of his mother in him. Not all, or even most, but some.
By the time the bundle in his arms grew quiet, his letter was finished.
Thunder ceased to roar outside.
The rapier had not felt as heavy in his hand since his first day of training, nor had his movements felt as sluggish since then. That, however, did not stop him from slashing at Anton Keelmanen's back, then stabbing him in the stomach as he turned around. Matthias did not wait for his body to fall to the blood-soaked marble of the floor, but he marched on, his free hand pounding a bleeding gash on his side.
Jonathan was not too far away, an arrow head poking through his right shoulder, swinging his own rapier around, trying to cut his way to his uncle and patrician. Despite all the complaints he might have had about the boy's father, Matthias could never have thought of his oldest nephew as anything less than admirable. He had bravery, strength of spirit, and loyalty, and the Protector could only reward him in kind, piercing another Keelmanen's back just as he was about to deal a dishonourable stab to Jonathan's back.
"Your excellency! Here!" Shouted young Bongani Imbasala as he severed Nikolas Muirmoran's hand with a third and final stroke of his heavily ornamented rapier. The Imbasala's patrician grandson was covered in deep cuts, his clothes hanging in tatters from his body. Matthias tripped on the body one of the young man's uncles as he tried to reach him, and he fell. A half-broken wine glass, covered in wine and blood alike, broke under the weight of his arm, the pieces piercing the skin and pushing into his flesh. Then, an arrow hit him in the back.
Jonathan and Bongani growled with fury.
Thunder roared outside, but Matthias paid no attention to it, or the cold. A gold mine had collapsed, and men had died. The whims of the sky were not important. He read the letter from the mine's overseer meticulously, made notes on a piece of paper beside it, and now and then glanced at a map of known and potential gold deposits.
He saw the little shadow on the wall long before he heard the tiny whimper, right in the space between a grand portrait of Thomas III and his family, and a rather underwhelming tapestry depicting a pride of lions chasing gazelles. The whimper, however, gave him pause.
He turned around in his carved amaranth chair, and eyed the small figure standing on the threshold between the long hall and his solar. The head full of long blond hair was unmistakable, as were the bright green eyes that peaked from beneath the thick furs wrapped around its body like a cloak. Matthias' eyes narrowed, something that was commonly regarded as an ill omen.
"Felix. You should be in bed." He said, and with the tinge of a lion's rumbling in his voice, and the deliberate tone with which he spoke every syllable, it all sounded like an indisputable statement, closed to any sort of discussion. That the boy either missed that underlying meaning, or knowingly disregarded, was something that Matthias was starting to grow painfully used to, much as it bewildered him.
"Can't sleep. I'm scared." The Protector's five-year-old son spoke up, his almost mewling voice muffled by the furs.
Matthias' eyes narrowed even further and he pursed his lips, while his fingers began to drum on his great desk's glass surface. Only the sound of the drumming reigned in the solar. Father and son did not move a single muscle more. They just stared at each other, until the boy finally yielded, and turned his eyes to the books on a nearby table, then a painting of merchants in a harbour, then the red stone floor.
Satisfied, the Protector of the Sonveld rose from his seat and walked to his son with his head held up high. As he spoke, his face remained expressionless.
"Very well. I shall have Bernharda bring us some warm milk." He said, marching past his son and into the hall, not glancing back once as he walked away. "I expect to see you on the window seat when I return, with a tome of your own choice in hand."
Moments later, as the storm continued to rage outside, and Matthias began to suspect he would be hearing of floods soon enough, father and son sat on the window seat, an open book on the boy's lap. The two held their cups of warm milk differently, Matthias' grip more praticed and robust, but both drank the liquid at the same deliberate pace, in comfortable quietness.
"Is thunder from Kammeth?" His son asked, breaking their unspoken vow of silence. "Is He angry?"
Matthias humphed. "Perhaps. Although one wonders what He could possibly be angry about, and why His wrath is so aimless."
Thunder roared outside, and Felix Soleander shifted in his seat, pressing his trembling self against his father's side.
Growling, he tried to rise again.
He failed.
The butchery continued, and he lied there, forgotten, bleeding profusely.
He growled once more, louder, and pushed himself up. Heavy and sluggish as they felt, his arms still had enough strength to get him on his knees, and as he mustered the strength to get back on his feet, he gripped his rapier tight. Old and wounded, the lion still had claws.
It took long, far too long for his liking, but he rose, and he walked, and he fought. He held onto Jonathan's shoulder as they limped their way past friends and foes, shoving their rapiers at anyone who dared cross their path. Bongani followed them, covering their escape. The door was not too far away.
Many more corpses lied on the floor when they reached it. Many of those corpses belonged to women and children. Women like his Alexandra, and children like his Felix.
The door had been sealed shut from the outside.
More arrows flew, and Bongani perished behind the two Soleanders, as Jonathan pounded on the carved wood, tried to kick it open. The next few arrows hit them both, and they fell.
For a brief moment, Matthias wanted nothing more than to roar again. A lion should not die whimpering in agony, a mad part of him told him. The man, famed for being sternly reasonable, always practical, was succumbing to the madness that filled the whole hall like a miasma.
"Go on. Pet her." Said Dumisani Imbasala, gently holding the blond boy's hand, guiding it slowly towards the lioness' side. His son's eyes had not narrowed one bit since the Imbasala patrician had told him he would get to touch a real lion. Even now, those emerald eyes were filled with disbelief, and a healthy bit of fear.
Matthias stood behind them, watching closely. The lioness was a magnificent creature, bred within the gardens of Insimu Lezinkanyezi, always living in the company of humans. A truly tamed beast, if he had ever seen one, although his feelings on that matter were rather ambiguous. Matthias Soleander had spent much of his life firmly believing that lions were not meant to be tamed.
His son squirmed in his wheeled chair just as he was but an inch away from feeling a living lion's fur for the first time. There was a nervous smile on his lips, and the elderly Dumisani barely suppressed a chuckle, although his dark face belied his amusement. Young Felix, only a few months away from his twelfth nameday, was nothing like his father had been at that age. Dumisani still remembered how nonchalant young Matthias had been about his first time petting a lion, at least until his aunt made some passing, and definitely false comment, about her late husband almost losing a hand to that lion.
As the boy's bony hand met the lioness' soft fur, all tension vanished from the air with the relieved sigh that came from the Soleander youth. There was no danger. The lioness simply glanced at him, then continued to groom herself.
"See? No lioness would dare hurt your cub, Matthias." Said Dumisani, sporting a wide grin as he patted his peer on the shoulder. He turned to the other Soleander, whose enthusiasm was beginning to show, as he leaned out of his wheeled chair and stroked the lioness' fur with both hands. He too was grinning.
"I want one." He suddenly said, smiling up at his father, with tinges of playful mischief in his eyes.
"No." Was his father's small, but monolithic reply. Like all his short answers, it allowed for no dissenting opinions, no further demands, and no honeyed pleads. "You may, however, have a cat."
His son nodded, satisfied. "Agreed."
The petting of the lioness resumed in full, as Felix scratched her neck and the back of her ears. Dumisani joined him, stroking the top of her head.
As he watched the two of them, it occurred to Matthias that his son had grown quite taller as of late. Soon, he would be a cub no longer, but a lion.
Later, as the two were reading in their shared solar in Insimu Lezinkanyezi, he wondered what sort of lion he would be. Would he remain, as he was now, fond of philosophy and poetry? Would his innocence grow into naivety or true virtue? Would he roar, even as he sat on a wheeled chair? Matthias was uncertain as to whether he wanted his son to change at all, but he knew beyond any doubt that he would, much like he himself had changed.
He was broken out of his reverie as his son finished reading his book, carefully adding it to the growing pile he had already devoured during their journey to Insimu Lezinkanyezi. He let out a sigh, turned at his father, and smiled broadly.
"I have reconsidered. I think I would rather have a bird."
Since the passing of Matthias Soleander's beloved Alexandra, few had seen him smile. When he did, his smiles were small, brief, slightly amused, and usually reserved for his cub. The smile he gave him in return was no exception."
Jonathan gave out his last breath as Matthias' sight began to clear again. With that breath came a dribbling of blood from his mouth, and Matthias stared. In his own mouth he could taste blood as well.
The Sunborn dragged him to the middle of the hall, were those who had not died yet were being held. Above them all stood a middle aged Dawnbringer, with Dumisani Imbasala's rapier in his hand. The man had come with the Keelmanens, and Matthias had noticed a distinctly Heartlandish look to him.
"Matthias Soleander, look upon the fruits of your heresy." Said the Dawnbringer, pointing the tip of the rapier at him. "You, who would claim for yourself an authority higher than that of the gods themselves, have witnessed the just wrath of Kammeth Himself... but you may still redeem yourself in his eyes."
Matthias spat a mouthful of blood on the floor and looked up, straight into the Dawnbringer's eyes. He looked at him with his green Soleander eyes, and his look contained everything that had made Matthias Soleander who he was: pride, strength, dignity. Matthias Soleander, the stern man, the pragmatic leader, the committed patrician, and the formidable Protector. Matthias Soleander, the ever-grieving widower and dutiful father.
When he spoke, his voice did not waver. It rumbled menacingly, like a lion ready to pounce its prey. "My son... will kill you. All of you."
"Your crippled kitten will face Kammeth's justice as well, soon enough." Said the Dawnbringer, leaning down until his face was inches from his own.
"Kitten?" Matthias humphed, and he almost seemed to smile fondly, lowering his eyes to the blood-soaked floor. "No... He is a lion's cub. He... is a Soleander."
He looked up again, one last time, and his smile was undeniable, and it was filled with pride and the promise of retribution.
"He... is... my son." Growled the Protector of the Sonveld, and he spat in the Dawnbringer's face.
The Dawnbringer flinched, enraged, and lashed out with the rapier, shouting some incomprehensible nonsense about Kammeth as the fine steel cut through Matthias Soleander's throat.
He could feel the blood filling his throat and rising to his mouth until it overflew, and then he was drowning.
Had he been able to speak one last time, he would have whispered Alexandra's name.
Much of Insimu Lezinkanyezi burned that night, including parts of the gardens, killing Dumisani Imbasala's favourite lioness, as well as a solar in which a patrician and his son had once shared a smile.
Gerard Soleander screamed when the news reached him, and he pounded the glass surface of his desk until it broke and shattered into countless little pieces. His hands were left scarred for life.
It was said that Willemina Soleander did not say or do anything when she was told. She just sat on a chair in a gallery of the Lion's Grave, and stared at the sky from dusk until dawn.
Matthias' only son, his bright and sensitive cub, did not eat for days, and spent the nights sobbing curses at everything and everyone. When a thunderstorm came to the Sunstone, he entered his father's solar, tore books and paintings to shreds, and sat in the window seat, trembling under his furs, until the storm passed.
The large herd of gazelles fled from the lionesses, away from the small cluster of trees, through the pale green of the field. In the sunlight, their coats shone almost as blindingly bright as the pond not too far away.
The rhinoceros sleeping under the tree was, surprisingly, the most difficult to depict. The shadows made it difficult to perceive its more detailed features, and the artist had never painted one before.
Half a dozen other artists had taken advantage of the clear sky to come out from the Sunstone's gilded halls and recreate the landscape's wild beauty in their canvases. Beneath the gardens' lemon and orange trees, as many poets and philosophers spoke to one another in hushed tones, while holding books and scrolls in their hands. From the nearby gallery, where the air was cooler, a musician from Dreiben composed his masterpiece, note by note, searching for that one melody that would never be forgotten.
The rest of the gardens had been claimed by a multitude of children for their own games. Their joyful shouting was the morning's melody, everything else being little more than background noise. The palace's gardens had always been open to all the children of the surrounding cities, as a gesture of gratitude from the Soleanders to the community that had made them patricians and built them their grand and beautiful home.
Beneath one of the larger orange trees, a few feet away from the red balustrade that separated the gardens of the Sunstone from the wilderness beneath, a small group of philosophers sat around a small gilded table. Their debate was not particularly heated, but there was a certain tension to it, due in no small part to the comely young man who had suddenly joined them.
There was a frailty to his look as he sat on a carved wheeled chair, yet his ornaments spoke of great power, and his voice had a gentle underlying rumbling to it. He delivered his thoughts with pure enthusiasm, devoid of any hesitation, yet fits of coughing interrupted him every so often. Taller than many of them, he wore a pristine white tunic, and attached to the neck of it was a golden brooch, but neither added much bulk to his slender frame.
"Only reason in its purest form, uncorrupted by the vices of the material, can help one elucidate the truth, your excellency." Said the young Silvanus Coultren of Riffleford, smiling with satisfaction. The debate, though it had stretched through most of the morning, had not lacked for richness. As he continued to speak, his fingers tapped on the cover of an old tome. "Crescentius Julien proved as much with his examination of how the understanding of the world possessed by some barbarians only grew larger and deeper when they abandoned their explorations of the wilderness, and instead dedicated themselves completely to pondering in seclusion, in the company of their spirits alone."
Felix II Soleander gazed at the stack of books and scrolls on the gilded table, and produced a small, warm smile of his own. "It is true that Crescentius Julien observed as much, yet even he admitted that perpetual seclusion could lead to our reason festering, lost within the terrible spiral of its own spiritual vices."
Some nodded in agreement, while others grumbled their dissent.
"Your excellency, are you asserting that the empirical is fundamental to the elucidation of the truth?" Questioned Leopold Elegrand as he held a small orange, which had interrupted their debate a few moments before by falling from its tree branch and onto his head.
"Perhaps..." Answered Felix II, his smile turning mischievous for a moment. "Though I might need more empirical experience to reach a definitive conclusion."
The comment prompted some chuckling from Silvanus, and amused smirks from some of those present. There was a brief period of silence, and Felix II used it to relish the perfume of the orange and lemon trees, carried over to him by a gentle breeze. His long golden hair swayed gently with it, and it was one of the many soothing pleasures of the gardens.
The sound of wood hitting stone behind him caught his attention, and that of the gathered philosopher. Turning their eyes towards the sound, they saw two women, one young and one old, approaching them them.
Willemina Soleander, the revered patrician of the Lion's Grave, had arrived, and she demanded to be noticed. Her granddaughter, Claudia, the sister that Felix II had always wished for, held Willemina's arm as they walked side by side past the many artists, philosophers and children scattered through the garden. Both women wore dresses with the Soleander colours, and let their manes fall down their shoulders freely.
The philosophers born in the Sonveld greeted the two of them as was expected of them, holding each woman's hand for an instant and giving them a polite nod. Some's hold on Claudia's hand lingered just slightly longer than on Willemina's, but that was to be expected. The foreign philosophers, on the other hand, rushed to bow before them, eliciting an exasperated scoff from the plump elderly woman as she moved to stand beside the young Protector of the Sonveld.
"Dear lads, I am no queen, you are not my serfs, and you are in the Sonveld. Your courtly reverences have no place here." Willemina intoned, her grip on her amaranth cane as menacing as the fierce look in her eyes. "If another one of you bows in my presence again, I shall strike the lot of you."
The Protector chuckled, and then those fierce green eyes were upon him, unsoftened.
"And you, my dear, should be inside, resting, and trying to pay some attention to the correspondence you receive." She said to him, her voice rumbling much like his, before sitting on a gilded chair beside him. Felix II reached for her hand, which she allowed with a sideways glance.
"Dear aunt, I apologise." He said, leaning forward in his wheeled chair, reaching for one of the books on the table. "Would you care to join us in our discussion?"
Willemina scoffed again. "Not before lunch, and not before we discuss those."
She nodded at a few unopened letters on the table, trapped beneath the books. Felix II had all but forgotten about them, entranced as he had been by the many small delights that had filled his morning. It all had distracted him from the sudden bouts of physical ailments that had always been a part of his life, and from his often burdensome duties as Protector and patrician.
"You know of their content." He asserted, instead of asking. Willemina often learned of important matters before he did. That much had not changed since the days of his father's rule.
"News and rumours always reach the Lion's Grave quicker, for some reason." Said Willemina, picking one of the letters up, the tip of her finger caressing the wax seal on it. "All for the better, I should say. Otherwise, we would lose precious time, of which I have far less than you do."
Their green eyes met as she handed him the letter, and he spared an apologetic look for the gathered philosophers. They understood his intent well enough, and departed. Only Claudia and Felix II's personal guard remained, the young woman taking a seat of her own across from the two patricians. She played with some leaves that had fallen on the table's marble surface.
The letter was finally opened and read, and the look in Felix II's eyes became an ambiguous blend of many emotions and thoughts. His great aunt did not let him dwell on them for long.
"Taramyth had the decency not to amass too much power and responsibilities, so the void that must be filled is not as large as..." She hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips. She glanced at the young man beside her, a part of her still struggling to accept the fact that he was no longer a boy. "Well... as large the void your father left. A poor choice on your part, as Arch Elector, may not spell doom for the whole continent."
Felix II lifted his eyes from the paper. The grief in them was mild, a grief born from solidarity, rather than a sense of personal loss. He had never met the Emperor in person, and from what he knew, the man had barely been a proper ruler, letting others govern in his stead while he sailed the seas. Nevertheless, a man had died, and the continent had lost its sovereign.
Foremost among his emotions, however, was uncertainty. He was Arch Elector, but he could send someone to speak on his behalf. A part of him thought that it was the better choice. His uncle Adrian, and his patrician accomplices, were gathering strength somewhere in the deep wilderness. The man himself had not been seen in his estate for weeks, and his letters fell only a few words short from promising an armed rebellion if Felix II did not step down as Protector and patrician.
Another part of him, the dutiful one, that had been nurtured by the principles of virtuous rule, thought otherwise. He was the Protector, the person tasked with speaking on behalf of his fellow patricians, and the communities of the Sonveld, and he could not afford to cower within the Sunstone.
Willemina would not have expected anything less of him.
"I can protect the Sunstone in your absence, my dear." She said, and there were tinges of something warm in her tone. "Stephan will gladly lend a hand in keeping Adrian at bay if I need him to."
"I am still surprised that you simply call the Vaelander patrician 'Stephan', grandmother." Said Claudia, flicking a leaf into the air. It glided for a time, then fell at the feet of one of the guards.
The older woman smiled. "Stephan and I have been friends for many decades, sweet Claudia. Furthermore, I would feel quite uncomfortable referring to a man with whom I have spent so many nights of passion by his pompous full name."
The two younger Soleanders did not restrain their chuckling, and neither did she, as she felt the temptation to join them.
"I hope that, one day, the two of you can marry a person half as lovely as him."
Claudia scoffed, and for a moment she sounded just like Willemina. "Grandmother, be subtle."
"I am too old to be subtle, my dear." Retorted Willemina, leaning back on her chair. Behind them, a group of little children threw a remarkably large orange back and forth between them. When it finally went flying into a wall, and exploding into a splatter of fragrant juice that soaked a nearby guard, she chuckled again. She remembered seeing many Soleander children play the same games, with the same results. "Now, sweet nephew, I assume you have made a decision on the course of action you will pursue, so I would suggest we have lunch."
Indeed, Felix II had made a decision, and though he felt anxious about it, he smiled and nodded. As the three Soleanders entered the great palace, the Protector's wheeled chair carefully pushed forward by one of his guards, he gazed at the gardens and the wilderness below, and at the still unread letters he now had on his lap. After lunch, his life as Protector of the Sonveld would resume, and the philosophical spirit he possessed would give way to the virtuous tyrant that the world required him to be.
While Matthias Soleander had been a man fully committed to his role as a tyrant, he had quickly learned the value of delegating. His son, Gerard had found, was no different. Once his aunt Willemina had departed, the young Protector had resumed his duties and began to make arrangements for his journey to Lalrial.
Gerard had his objections to that journey. Strong as his nephew's spirit was, his body remained weak, and long travels to foreign lands could be most unkind to people in such conditions. And while he understood the rationale for personally attending the Imperial Summit, it would inevitably embolden his rebellious brother, and Gerard had no desire to lead a punitive expedition against his own kin if circumstances became even further complicated.
Nonetheless, regardless of his reservations, Gerard obeyed his nephew and, with lunch concluded, he proceeded to write all the necessary letters. Foremost among them were an expression of mourning in the late Emperor's honour, a perfunctory response to Diende Tribal, and a note summoning Zola Thusini, the required artist, to the Sunstone.
The Chalarensis request had taken both Gerard and his nephew aback, albeit for entirely different reasons. For Felix II, it had prompted an ethical dilemma over whether it was correct to help those known to be lacking in virtue. For Gerard, it had raised suspicions. The Chalarensis and the Soleanders did not have much shared history, but both families were certainly aware of each other, and each other's history. Gerard was not certain he wanted a valued artist, and specially Zola herself, to live in service of the Chalarensis.
As he finished the last of his letters and put his quill back in his place, he contemplated his late brother's solar. He had not expected Felix II to part with it, let alone insist that his youngest uncle took over it, but perhaps his decision had been his way of dealing with his grief. The decision, however, had done little to lessen Gerard's own grief. In the past few years, he had barely touched any of his brother's books or trinkets, and he had chosen to bring in a new desk, rather than use Matthias', to do his work as justiciar.
Looking at it now, Gerard saw that much of the solar had gathered a lot of dust, and it hurt. Perhaps a lot less than it would have four years before, when the wounds of loss were still wide open, but it hurt nevertheless. It hurt, because even now, with the dust literally settled, the Sonveld still had not found peace, and the conflict had come from within their own bloodline.
And now, the Emperor of all Ethica was dead, and his nephew would have to play his part in deciding the future of the continent. It occurred to Gerard that most of Felix II's predecessors would have likely abstained, or voted for a doomed candidate. Not his nephew, however, and probably not Matthias either.
As soon as the wax was warm, he sealed every letter with the golden flower and crown of thorns that were the symbols of the Sonveld, and let out a sigh.
Somewhere in the most remote corner of the Sonveld's untamed lands, a small citadel stood, long deprived of a community and patrician, now inhabited once again.
Two thousand men filled its abandoned buildings and gardens, and three oliphants stood by the dusty walls, feeding on fresh hay.
From the the top of the highest tower, the banner of the Soleanders flew. On top of its roaring head, the red lion wore an elaborate golden crown.
Within, Adrian Soleander sat on a carved wooden chair, wearing a crude crown of his own on top of his head, surrounded by a handful of patricians and foreigners. His armour was polished, and his sword was sharpened.
The caravan of ornamented carriages moved through the streets of the great city like a procession of creatures of many colours. They were made from all sorts of woods and silks, with plenty of gilded details, with red, green and gold dominating above all others. There were no oliphants in sight, but the more knowledgeable onlookers had no trouble recognizing the fine sort of workmanship that could only be found in one place in the world. And so the people of the Imperial capital knew that the Sonveld had arrived.
Within the carriage at the fore of the caravan, surrounded by silks, cushions, books and treats, the Protector of the Sonveld sat alongside his cousin and the Dovelder artist named Zola, gazing upon the crowded streets from a small window. Buried beneath warm sheets, he coughed lightly as sights both overwhelmingly grand and disturbingly miserable appeared before his eyes.
Felix II's father had visited Lalrial twice in his life, and had never had much to tell his son about it, other than predictable complains about the frivolity and undue sense of entitlement that, in his view, ran rampant in the Imperial court. Places such as this were as far removed from the world he had been born into as he could imagine.
Leaving the savannas of the Sonveld behind, watching the untamed wildnerness give way to forests and rolling hills, had had a far more profound effect on him than he had imagined. He had always been aware of the Empire, its shadow looming over every important decision his father had made as Protector, but only now, by abandoning his homeland, and witnessing the world beyond with his own emerald eyes, had he understood his circumstances, his responsibilities, his place, in the world.
For some reason, this understanding did not frighten him. Rather, it excited him. It fanned the flames of his spiritual passions, but also broaden the horizons of his sense of duty. And he wanted to be a part of this great moment.
The journey itself had not been pleasant, but he had survived, and Claudia had found ways to comfort him when his health had worsened noticeably. Now that they had arrived at last to Lalrial, he felt like basking in his small victory, at least as soon his coughing fit ceased.
Zola had originally had a carriage of her own, provided by the Imbasala patrician, but halfway through their journey, Felix II had insisted on spending more time in her company. After all, she was the author of the one portrait of his parents that the young patrician had always cherished the most. Kept in the main dinning hall of the Sunstone, it showed his father and mother on the day of their wedding, both of them smiling placidly while holding each other's hands. That painting was the only depiction Felix II had ever seen of his father that actually showed him smiling.
She was at least twice Felix II's age, yet she had always possessed an aura of youth that often spilled into her work. The Imbasala's had been swift to offer her patronage when they first discovered her talents, and her only work for the Soleanders had been little more than a wedding gift from a lifelong friend.
As a respite from politics, his conversations with her had been a much needed balm for his anxious spirit.
"I wonder what this Diende Tribal wants of me." The artist said, breaking the silence that reigned within the carriage. "I have never painted for foreigners."
"Grandmother was quite clear on her opinion on the matter." Said Claudia. "Probably something shoddy, bordering on scandalous."
"Age has made her mistrustful of strangers." Interjected Felix II without taking his eyes off the streets of the sprawling capital, feeling a clenching in his heart as he watched a small girl, dressed in filthy rags, begging in a corner. "But I am not ignorant of his dynasty's past. Some caution would not be unwarranted."
That principle, he thought, probably applied to everything in this city.
The caravan continued its journey with no incidents. The Protector's entourage, comprised of a handful of patricians, artists and philosophers, was protected by a few Knights Solar and habeldiers, the latter gladly provided by 'Stephan' as, apparently, one of his many personal gifts for Willemina. Felix II did not dwell on the matter.
The Soleanders had never owned any property in Lalrial, and neither did their patrician allies. Gold and diamonds, however, had easily provided them with a modest manor for the duration of their stay. With some time left to spare within its rooms, the men and women of the Sonveld rested for a few moments, and Felix II prepared for the pre-summit party taking place in one of the Valariens' estates. His finest wheeled chair, made of beautifully carved amaranth wood and green silk, decorated with gold, had been brought as part of his luggage for the occasion, along with a fine green tunic and cloak, with matching gloves.
Not much later, a single carriage quietly left the manor and returned to the streets of the great city, surrounded by the Knights Solar and Vaelander habeldiers. The sun continued to shine bright above and, inside the carriage, Felix II Soleander placed the tip of his fingers on his Protector's brooch, the symbol of his position as the sole legitimate ruler of the great sunlit fields of his homeland.
"His excellency, Felix II Soleander, Protector of the Sonveld and Patrician of the Sunstone!" Bellowed the servant-herald as he tried not to stare at the young man in the wheeled chair. The janitor had barely succeeded before him.
The young man in question had never heard his name spoken in such fashion. The position of Protector was held in high regard by the patricians, but few had any tolerance for pompous presentations, and only the arrogant ones enjoyed having their titles being spoken of in the same tone as those of foreign nobles.
Nevertheless, Felix II Soleander's polite smile did not falter. All the contrary, it widened at the sight of the opulent beauty that now surrounded him, and of the people who had already arrived. For a brief instant, he almost felt at home, although he had a most peculiar feeling that the Sunstone's gardens and halls had never possessed.
A Vaelander habeldier pushed his chair forward, and Zola walked beside him, far more lost in the decorations than he had been. There was a judging look in her eyes, as if she were examining the frescos in the portico for unforgivable flaws. Felix II, on the other hand, shifted his attention towards a loud voice, and ignored the stares from the less discreet of those present. He had suffered his fair share of stares when he had been presented as candidate for Protector.
An elderly man, as it turned out, was causing a stir among those present while addressing a younger woman who, as it turned out, was the host of this gathering. A Valarien princess and aspiring Empress, being publicly disrespected by an older person of lower rank. That was something Felix II was painfully familiar with, but he knew not to directly involve himself in the scandal.
With a nod of his head, he had the habeldier bring him a glass of wine, which he drank in small sips, then had him take further into the courtyard. He held his head up high, like a proper Soleander, and kept his attention on the argument taking place, until he noticed a certain man.
Felix II's father had had few good things to say about his encounters with Ethica's feudal nobility. Two of such things had been his first and second impressions of a certain Valarien man. A young but promising kuman on the path to becoming inquisitor, his father had praised Terminus Valarien's commitment and prowess. And he had described the Valarien prince well enough for Felix II to recognize him.
"Forgive me, sir, for bothering you, but might you be Terminus Valarien?" He enquired, smiling up at the man from his wheeled chair. "My father, Matthias Soleander, spoke well of you."
He allowed himself to glance at the continued polemic, which now included an imposing Caernavir woman, who could only be the Queen-Mother herself. Felix II had not met her, but his great aunt had. Her opinion on the mother of the ruler of Gwethydd had been mixed, to say the least, with criticisms aplenty, yet brimming with respect.
"Had such a man spoken to my father in such terms, he would have been banished to the wilderness." He said, more to himself than to the Valarien man. Indeed, Matthias Soleander had barely tolerated needless pleasantries and sycophancy, but he had shown a fearsome disdain towards gross expressions of disrespect. Felix II remembered how, at the age of six, he had watched his father calmly sentence a patrician's son to spending a night in the wilderness, without any weapons, for calling another patrician a "fat coward". Years later, his great aunt would claim that the patrician's son had lost a foot to a crocodile.
Head of House: Felix II Soleander, Protector of the Sonveld and Patrician of the Sunstone
House Specialty
Since time immemorial, the patrician families of the Sonveld have been famous for their patronage of the arts and sciences. Theirs is a tradition that has withstood some of the most devastating wars and miseries imaginable, and made their palaces and citadels into grand galleries, populated by the most exquisite masterpieces. As one of the three greatest dynasties of the region, the sentimental Soleanders have for centuries been at the fore of this custom, and their seat in the Sunstone reflects that. Some of the most significant works of art in all of Ethica reside within the palace's sunlit halls, and the Soleanders' libraries contain many unique and invaluable tomes. This vast accumulation of culture and wisdom, and their indirect control over the collections held by the other patrician families, have granted the Soleanders an undisputedly dominant position in the Imperial art trade, as well as a fair share of leverage in the Imperial political scene.
House Ancestral Artifact
When he was named Protector of the Sonveld, culminating almost a century of hard work and careful scheming, Thomas III received a plethora of symbolic treasures from his peers, so as to grant his office a modicum of prestige. Among these treasures was the Condor's Shroud, a feathered cloak once worn by the legendary founder of the Celeste patrician dynasty, Valora Celeste. Made from the wings of a great condor, and blessed by Lalaifia as a reward for Valora's devotion to their cause, the artifact was said to grant the power of flight to those who wore it. Outside of Valora's legend, few tales were ever told about this cloak, and in the Soleanders' hands it became little more than a sign of status, kept in the Sunstone's Hall of Mirrors, along with other ancient pieces collected over the centuries.
Important Members:
Felix II Soleander Aged 19. The tale of the boy that now leads the peoples of the Sonveld has oft been told as a tragedy, with a crippled lion cub at its centre. The only son of the revered Matthias Soleander, who led his dynasty's long-awaited resurgence and wrenched the title of Protector from the hands of the powerful Vaelanders, Felix was born with a frail body, and lost his mother mere moments after she brought him into this world. Raised in almost complete seclusion within the walls of the Sunstone, under the constant care of his draconian, yet loving father, and a small army of physicians from all over the continent, he grew into a shy, sensitive creature, with a strength of spirit and intellect that far surpassed his weak physique. As his ailment slowy deprived him of the ability to walk, he dedicated his days to the study of the arts and sciences, and forwent the rigorous martial education that had been a part of every Soleander's upbringing for generations, in favour of ancient texts of military strategy. Loved and cherished by his father and his great aunt, and disregarded by his uncles and cousins, Felix' whole life was thrown into disarray by the Bloody Solstice, and the aftermath of those devastating days left his spirit scarred. Nevertheless, in the midst of the worst crisis since his father's ascent, he proved himself to be a sensible, diplomatic leader, capable of turning the raging tides of the Sonveld's politics in his favour without forsaking the principles of virtuous rule. With the undying support of his great aunt and his father's lifelong friends, Felix II has spent the past four years of his life maintaining his father's legacy, ruling over the Sonveld through soft power and a series of small, yet meticulous reforms. So far, the Sonveld has prospered under his reign, and the realm's politics have regained some semblance of harmony. However, a threat to his position has began to grow within his own family, as his uncle Adrian accuses his great aunt and him of foul play during he aftermath of the Bloody Solstice, and seeks to build a coalition of patricians who would have Felix II step down from the position of Protector, and give up the Sunstone. Felix II is a tall, but very slender young man, with delicate, feline features, long golden hair, and green eyes. His inability to walk keeps him confined to a wheeled chair.
Willemina Soleander Aged 76. The Soleander Dynast and Patrician of the Lion's Grave, the elderly Willemina has been a leading political figure in the Sonveld for many decades, and is widely considered one of the people who did the most to secure Matthias Soleander's appointment as Protector. Passionate, dominating and fiercely loyal to her family, she was raised by her father to be a cunning, strong-willed leader like her older brother, Sebastian. Married to Lucas Toltremer soon after she came of age, she was still very young when she became a widow, and dedicated the following years of her life to her daughter, Ursula, and Matthias, who was her nephew and godson. Having inherited the Lion's Grave from her father, as a patrician she held a sizeable portion of the Soleander family's military might. When Matthias was murdered during the Bloody Solstice, she wielded that same might as a tool in her campaign to install Felix II as Protector of the Sonveld, and restore the peace. Four years later, she continues to reside in the Lion's Grave, although she occasionally travels to the Sunstone to serve as her grandnephew's advisor, and participates in every yearly patrician council, so as to keep her nephew Adrian's coalition at bat. Always seen carrying an amaranth cane wherever she goes, Willemina is a tall, plump old dame, with green eyes, a grey mane, and feline features, softened by the years.
Adrian Soleander Aged 56. The eldest uncle of the Protector of the Sonveld and Patrician of the Sunstone, Adrian is a peculiar, melancholic figure. Despite never holding the title of patrician, and growing up in his older brother's shadow, throughout his life he managed to amass an unusual amount of power and influence, much of it coming from foreign figures. He is prominent in the region for his lifelong advocacy for an embrace of feudal monarchy, with the Soleanders as Kings of the Sonveld, as well as for his successful campaigns against bandits near the northern borders. Despite not being allowed to participate in the yearly councils, he leads a coalition of patricians loyal to the Soleanders, and maintains friendships with some minor noble families in Lalrial. For the past four years, Adrian has been at the fore of an increasingly intense campaign to have his nephew ousted, an endeavour that has bewildered no small amount of people. Nobody, not even his own children, understands his disdain towards the boy, but the tensions between the two Soleanders has made many worry that a second Bloody solstice may be looming on the horizon. Tall, green-eyed and feline-featured, like most Soleanders, Adrian keeps his graying blond hair short, and his moustache trimmed.
Gerard Soleander Aged 51. The youngest of the late Matthias Soleander's brothers, Gerard was nobody's favourite in his youth, but became his eldest brother's closest friend and brother at arms as both matured. Committed, like most Soleanders, to the principles of virtuous rule, he is a man of honour, with a remarkably keen eye for deceit in all its forms, and a profound sense of respect for his heritage. As justiciar of the Sunstone, he keeps close ties with the citizens of the surrounding cities, and oversees the protection of his nephew's community. It was he himself who captured and trialled several of the patricians behind the Bloody Solstice. Tall, with green eyes, feline features, greying golden hair and an increasingly long beard, Gerard is more handsome than his siblings, due in part to his kinder, less stern nature.
Ursula Soleander Aged 45. As Patrician of Gildmarten, Willemina's only daughter has proven herself to be just as intelligent and strong-willed as her mother, but also far more selfish. Married off to her cousin just so her mother could keep a foothold in the Sunstone, Ursula had no intention of playing the good wife for her husband's sake, and instead fully dedicated herself to ruling Gildmarten with a stern hand. Her support for the Soleanders has been perfunctory for the most part, and though she loves her daughter Claudia dearly, she was quick to send her off to the Sunstone, to be educated by her fellow Soleanders. Brown haired, with strong features and green eyes, there is a harder, less elegant look to Ursula.
Paula Soleander Aged 42. Born outside of the Sonveld, Paula is not only Adrian Soleander's wife, but also his intermediary with the minor nobility of Lalrial. She is a woman who keeps her thoughts and feelings concealed by a mask of courtesy, and has few responsibilities other than those pertaining to her role as her husband's envoy. Their relationship oft appears to be less of a happy marriage, and more of a political friendship, and her opinion on the tensions within the Soleander family remains a closely held secret. Comely, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, she looks the part of the Sonveld dame.
Maximilian Soleander Aged 16. High in the line of succession for the Soleander dynasty, Maximilian is a youth with a complex character, and an equally complex relationship with his family. Melancholic like his father, but also rather cynical, he is a master fencer, a poet and a hedonist, who spends several days at a time away from his father's estate in the countryside, and visits the Sunstone quite often. Forced into an arranged marriage with a Celeste, he grew resentful of his father and mother, and developed a fondness for his second cousin, Claudia. With Felix II, things are somewhat more intricate. As a probable heir to the young Protector and patrician, he is seen by Felix II's advisors as a threat, yet the two spend much time together in the Sunstone's gardens and solars, and exchange much correspondence while they are apart. Maximilian is tall, fit and handsome, and possesses all the features of a proper Soleander.
Mathilde Soleander Aged 11. Adrian and Paula's youngest child has so lived a sheltered life, seldom leaving her father's estate. As sweet as a girl of her age can be, she understands little of the conflicts tearing her family apart, and has only heard of her cousins and uncles what her always restrained mother has been willing to tell. Thus far, she is not betrothed to anybody. Unlike her brother, she looks far more similar to her mother, with the same eyes and features.
Claudia Soleander Aged 23. As the daughter of Gerard and Ursula Soleander, and granddaughter of Willemina Soleander, the beautiful Claudia may well be one of the most coveted heiresses in the Sonveld. She holds direct claims on the Lion's Grave and Gildmarten, and under the Sonveld's laws she could also lay claim to the Sunstone and nominate herself as Protector, should Felix II pass away. In light of this, it could be considered a blessing that, despite her mischievous nature and shrewd intellect, she has never shown much interest in the politics of the realm. In truth, there is only one thing she is passionate about, and wholeheartedly devoted to, and that is the study of the natural world. An amateurish botanist and avid reader of the ancient astronomers, she has forged a close bond of friendship with Felix II over the years, fueled by their shared interests on matters of the intellect and the feeling of being two lonely and misunderstood people in a mad world. Claudia's looks are perfectly Soleander in every way, with long blond hair, green eyes, and a feline face.
Justine Soleander Aged 17. A girl who found herself thrust into a situation she was not the least bit prepared to at too young an age, Justine may carry the blood of Valora Celeste in her veins, but she is no aspiring ruler. Married against her will to Maximilian Soleander, she was dragged out of her family's ancestral home in the Skygarden and thrust into an estate in the countryside, far from the social life she had grown accustomed to, and expected to spend the rest of her life with a younger boy who had no interest in her or her bloodline. Justine has been undeniably miserable since her wedding, and even the birth of her first child, a plump little thing that Adrian Soleander insisted on naming Thomas, has done little to lift her spirits. Nowadays, she lives in the remote Soleander estate as a ghost, ignored by most, wasting away in the solar with her baby boy in her arms. Like most Celestes, Justine has light brown curls, hazel eyes, and strong aquiline features dotted by freckles.
Thomas Soleander Aged 1. Still a babe on the path to learning the art of walking, Thomas looks nothing like his fellow Soleander men, and everything like his Celeste ancestors. Though his father is fond of him, it is his grandfather who has taken the greatest interest in the youngest Soleander.
The Sonveld
Region/Color on Map
Vermilion for region south of the pink.
Races
Guvelder One of the two major ethnic groups in the Sonveld, the fair-skinned Guvelders arrived at the warm fields and hills of this region many centuries before the Empire was founded, having fled from their homeland in the tundras now held by the northern tribes. Usually possessing willowy physiques and strong, triangular features, the Guvelders introduced the worship of Kammeth to the Sonveld, along with agriculture and iron weaponry. As their numbers grew, and those of the native Dovelders fell, they transformed the once modest mining of precious gems and metals into a massive, prosperous trade, the profits of which helped transform the rustic settlements throughout the Sonveld into the envy of every noble in Ethica. Fiercely patriotic and mistrustful of everything monarchic, their efforts to establish effective governance without the risk of falling victims to the whims of a feudal nobility resulted in the creation of the patricians, tyrants whose rule was legitimized by the will of the people.
Dovelder The original inhabitants of the Sonveld, these dark-skinned people, now known to the rest of Ethica as Dovelders, once vastly outnumbered their Guvelder brethren, and ruled the arid plains and hills as a loose community of prosperous tribal states. Collectively referring to themselves as the Ilanbatu, they perfected the arts of war and astronomy, and established a system of government that would serve as the basis for the communities and patricians that the Guvelders would later embrace. Despite initially living together in relative harmony, some initial clashes notwithstanding, a succession of ethnic and religious conflicts led to an increasing marginalization of the Dovelders. Coupled with the atrocities committed by several Guvelder patricians over the centuries, including the Celestes' holy wars and Thomas I Soleander's infamous massacres, the situation eventually led to a diminishing of the Dovelder population. By the time Matthias Soleander was appointed Protector, Dovelders had long ceased to comprise the vast majority of the Sonveld's population, and instead were only slightly more numerous than the Guvelders. Of about the same average height as the Guvelders, with somewhat rounder features and generally stronger physiques, the Dovelders share the Guvelders' patriotism and mistrust of feudal monarchies. Unlike the Guvelders, however, they are generally not infatuated with the fine arts. Instead, they show a distinct preference for the sciences, and engineering and astronomy in particular, and the study of military history and tactics. Their light infantry is admired by the Guvelder patricians, and feared by the occasional bandits, as are their machines of war.
Capital
The Sunstone A grand palace which sits atop a stony red plateau before a great green field, the Sunstone is the crown jewel of the Soleander dynasty and, since Matthias Soleander's appointment as Protector, the capital of the Sonveld. Surrounded by the handful of small cities that the palace was built to represent, it is a tall, imposing, yet elegant work of art. It was originally made from the smooth red rock of the plateau, but with every patrician it grew larger and more beautiful, with whole wings built in many different kinds of marble. Each expansion came with its own new, bold architectural style, until it became almost a city on its own. The Sunstone, as it stands today, can hundreds upon hundreds of people, and boasts some of the most awe-inspiring gardens and great halls in the Sonveld. The surrounding cities themselves, though not nearly as opulent as the palace, share some of its artistic beauty, and they are all held together by a series of walls and fortifications, rebuilt during Thomas IV's rule.
Capital Population
11,000 inhabitants.
Other Major Settlements
The Lion's Grave 12,000 inhabitants. The original seat of the Soleander family, the citadel from which Thomas I led his first campaigns against the Vaelanders, and one of the most formidable constructions in the Sonveld, the Lion's Grave is both an ancient relic, and a symbol of the Soleanders' power. Although it lacks the refined beauty of its successor, its large walls and barracks are home to a large part of its ancestral owners' military might, and over the centuries it has withstood its fair share of sieges. Nowadays, this pale red mountain in the middle of the sun scorched field is held in a fierce grip by the political beast that is Willemina Soleander, and most of its inhabitants are, in one way or another, dedicated to protecting its dusty rocks against all foes.
The Skygarden 8,000 inhabitants. The last remnant of the Celestes' glorious days as rulers of the Sonveld, this white citadel lies in the cool valley between the Azures, the mountains which contain some of the Sonveld's most prolific diamond mines. Built by Valora Celeste herself, to be the seat of the kingdom she had envisioned upon her return from victory against Lalaifia's enemies, the Skygarden was the only citadel that the Celestes did not lose against the Dovelder rebellions and the Vaelanders' violent usurpations, long after their days of glory had ended. A place that can only be reached by passing through a series of narrow tunnels built within the mountains, it is as much of a sanctuary as it is a trap, albeit a beautiful one. As befits the home of any patrician family with a heritage as prestigious as the Celestes', the Skygarden is a sight to behold, each of its buildings crafted by the best architects Celeste diamonds could buy, and decorated by the best artists as well. It is not the most impressive in terms of the size of its population, but it is well-defended and, despite the Celestes' long decadence, its inhabitants are no more miserable than their peers elsewhere in the Sonveld.
Fulsevrant 21,000 inhabitants. By the time Thomas I Soleander began his first campaign to overthrow the Vaelanders, this powerful family had already succeeded in transforming their old seat of Fulsevrant into a grand fortified city, worthy of a family that aspired to rule the Sonveld until the end of time. From the bulky black citadel that had been their home for centuries, they built a massive, geometrically designed beast of granite and dark marble, with enough room to hold as many inhabitants the city of Violette did at the time, and fortifications that no sane man would try to storm. When Thomas I ultimately succeeded in breaching Fulsevrant's defenses, it ended the Vaelanders' dreams for the city's future. The city's population never quite grew to the size its patricians had envisioned, and entire neighbourhoods remained empty and forgotten, doomed to crumble as history passed the Vaelanders by. Although it remains the Sonveld's most populous city, and one of the greatest feats of architecture in the region's history, Fulsevrant is not nearly as revered by the artistically minded as the Sunstone or the Skygarden. It does, however, continue to be a major centre of trade, and a formidable fortress.
Gildmarten 4,000 inhabitants. The Toltremers are a youthful dynasty by Sonveld standards, and the Gildmarten is proof of that. Built two centuries ago after Anton Toltremer was named patrician of the surrounding towns, it is barely more than a palace, although it is a beautiful one. Built with the dark golden stone of a nearby quarry, it sits by a pond, surrounded by a multitude of wild creatures, from gazelles to oliphants. It is not a particularly defensible seat, something that could be blamed on the fact that the region itself has not faced a single attack since the Celestes' holy wars.
Insimu Lezinkanyezi (The Field of Stars) 13,000 inhabitants. Built on the ruins of an Ilanbatu city destroyed by Valora Celeste, Insimu Lezinkanyezi is the largest Dovelder city, and for three centuries it has been ruled by the Imbasalas, the most powerful Dovelder patrician family. Resting on the margins of the Ebusku river, its palaces are only matched by the Sunstone in size and beauty, and its gardens have long been renowned for the vast collection of tamed beasts kept within. Nearby vineyards make the city a favourite destination for many merchants, and its iron mines help keep its soldiers well-equipped.
Nensephe Nesibindi (The Brave Gazelle) 7,000 inhabitants. The Onothando family was one of the few ancient Dovelder dynasties that survived both the Celestes' holy wars and Thomas I Soleander's massacres. Indeed, the Onothandos have been some of the longest reigning patrician families in the Sonveld, and Nensephe Nesibindi is the symbol of this heritage. Built and decorated in the traditional Ilanbatu style, the Onothandos' seat is a broad, sparsely populated city that stretches along the field, surrounded by all manner of wild beasts. Thanks to the presence of a series of streams that cut through the city, the land of Nensephe Nesibindi is one of the most fertile in the Sonveld. For countless generations, its inhabitants have provided the region with much needed fruit and grain.
Population 353,000 inhabitants
Culture
The one fundamental value that rules over life in the Sonveld, which has permeated every aspect of its society and culture since the arrival of the Guvelders, is patriotism. Despite the persisting differences between the Guvelders and Dovelders, and between the different communities, a prevailing sense of unity under the ideal of the Sonveld binds them together, and guides their actions. To the inhabitants of this realm, nothing is more important than the Sonveld. To help in its survival and prosperity is the highest honour imaginable, and all else is secondary to it. This conception of the world has had many different effects on life in the Sonveld.
On the one hand, it has subordinated religious institutions and doctrine to the traditional governance and customs that preceeded them. The clergy and its holy duties are below the tyranny and its responsibilities to the homeland. The ancient laws cannot be forced to abide by the principles of the faith, but rather the principles of the faith must mold themselves after the ancient laws. Most people in the Sonveld think in terms of offenses against their own communities, and the Sonveld itself, rather than in terms of sins against the gods.
On the other hand, the obligation to pursue the common good above all else has made the peoples of the Sonveld more accepting than others of tyrannical rulers, but also more willing to tolerate radical changes for the greater good. It was because of the latter that, when some patricians passed away and left only left female descendants, their communities forsook their ancestral patriarchalism and allowed women to become patricians.
The nature of the ideal of the Sonveld has also had a most peculiar effect on the relationship between the patricians and their communities. Although they may lead lives of opulence, and hold great power over the people around them, the patricians are not aristocrats in the traditional sense. Their privileged position is not so much something they are entitled to by virtue of their birth, but rather a charitative gesture from the communities that have made them responsible for the management of their realm. The distances between the social strata are smaller, at least in principle, than they are in many other realms.
The people of the Sonveld are notorious for their fondness of the arts and sciences, and their belief in an ideal of virtue, one that has less to do with Kammethian morality than it does with the ancient customs. It is an ideal based on seeking trascendence in the contemplation of the wilderness, and respecting the integrity of your individual peers while pursuing the welfare of the whole. To the common inhabitant of the Sonveld, a gross intrusion into somebody else's private life is always far more scandalous than any act of debauchery it might uncover.
Type of Government
Popular tyranny In all its history, the Sonveld has never had a true, legitimate monarch, nor a feudal nobility like those in many neighbouring regions. Guvelders and Dovelders alike have traditionally been deeply skeptical about any form of government that relied on bloodlines or alleged divine mandates to maintain its legitimacy. So it was that, when the moment came to decide upon a way to rule over this vast and sparsely populated nation, the peoples of the Sonveld chose what would later be referred to by scholars as popular tyranny.
The patricians of the Sonveld hold in their hands near absolute power, granted to them by the inhabitants of their communities. They rule for life, creating laws and enforcing them, waging war and judging crimes, controlling the local clergy, and overseeing all guilds, merchant and artisan alike. When a patrician perishes, their community has its most revered members choose a new one on their behalf, and should their patrician turn out to be incompetent or corrupt, these revered members may depose the patrician. Through history, some ruling patricians have also been challenged to a duel for their title by their rivals. A remnant of the old traditions of the Guvelders, these duels, though rare, are also regarded as a legitimate path to deposing and electing patricians.
The institution that is the Protector of the Sonveld is, compared to the patricians, a fairly recent one, invented by Thomas III Soleander. Chosen by the patricians from among their ranks, the Protector is the tyrannical ruler and representative of all the Sonveld. Among the Protector's responsibilities are serving as arbiter between the patricians, overseeing relations with the other realms and the Empire, and managing the regulation and taxation of all foreign trade. Though a far cry from the Celestes' monarchist ambitions of old, the Protector could be said to be, in practice, a monarch in all but name. Much like with the patricians, the position of Protector has often been passed down from the patrician to a close relative of their choice. Scholars have taken to blaming this flaw on the persisting disparities between most patrician families and the prestigious triumvirate that are the Soleanders, Vaelanders and Celestes. Only the Imbasalas have ever succeeded in breaking that cycle, albeit briefly, when Themba Imbasala briefly served as Protector of the Sonveld after Maarten Celeste passed away.
Influence & Relations
The Sonveld's troubled history has made it difficult for its Protectors to establish close bonds with their neighbours.
Relations with the Empire itself, on the other hand, have been rather uneasy since the Celestes fell from grace, and specially since the rise of the Soleanders and Vaelanders. With the tinges of independentism in the Vaelanders' ambitions, and the Soleanders' overt unwillingness award the Valariens, and the Church of the Sacred Flame, more than perfunctory authority over the Sonveld, tensions have sparked sporadically over the past three centuries. Recently, with the latest resurgence of the Soleanders, relations have improved substantially between the Sonveld and the Heartlands, thanks to Matthias and Felix II's willingness to make some long-demanded concessions, including a higher share of the Sonveld's gold mines' output for the Empire's coffers. Still, the Soleanders have not been particularly active in the Imperial court, or Imperial politics as a whole.
One foreign family with which the Soleanders do have closer relations are the Gracieux, mostly due to their shared history as dynasties that produced several female rulers and introduced new ideas to the western realms of Ethica, as well as their competition over the trade of precious gems and metals.
With the Caernavirs of Gwethydd, on the other hand, things have always been rather complicated. Before the Sonveld was annexed by the Empire and placed in Valora Celeste's hands, its patricians were only kept in check by each other. This meant that, if a coalition of patrician families was large enough, there truly was nothing to stop them from waging war against neighbouring nations. During this period, many such coalitions were raised against Gwethydd, a nation which patricians widely perceived as a bloated, dispersed collection of weak feudal states pretending to be a kingdom, ripe for the taking. By the time the Celestes reined these patrician families in, the damage had already been done, and the Soleanders' prominent participation in these wars would linger in the memory of the families involved for centuries.
By the time of Thomas I Soleander's rise to power, the animosity between Gwethydd and the Sonveld had had centuries to fester, and had been made even worse by the Vaelanders' first rebellion against the Empire. Thomas I's apparent lust for conquest did little to improve this situation, specially after a series of skirmishes between his forces and those of bordering Gwethyn counts. Despite Thomas II and Thomas III's best efforts to relieve the tensions between both families, many problems persisted well into Matthias Soleander's rule as Protector, ranging from border disputes to scandalous romances between Sonveld patricians and Gwethyn nobles.
Military The forces of the Sonveld today are an amalgamation of various standing armies, created during Matthias Soleander's rule, and mercenary companies hired by the patricians of the less populous communities. All together, the military power of the realm is comprised of less than ten thousand men, with Dovelder light infantry serving as its most prominent feature.
The harsh climate of the Sonveld has encouraged the patricians over the centuries to rely on lightly equipped forces, with a lot of mobility, and only a modest amount of cavalry. Spears, bows and shortswords are the weapons that have been at the fore of every great conflict of the past centuries, with the Soleander swordsmen making a name for themselves as some of Ethica's greatest fencers. The Sonveld's few knights, most of them belonging to the Knights Solar, usually wear light armour, and have been trained to use swords and bows while on horseback, rather than lances.
Horses, though broadly used by the Sonveld's chivalry, are not the most popular mount among the patricians. That honour goes to the oliphants, colossal beasts of the wild that are native to the Sonveld, though not particularly numerous or easy to tame. They can carry several soldiers on their backs, and are very difficult to kill.
The Vaelanders were the first to introduce halberds to the Sonveld, and to this day theirs is the only army in the Sonveld to mainly and effectively use heavy infantry. The Dovelder patricians, on the other hand, have become famous for their innovative siege weapons, including their iron rhinoceros, used to crash through their enemies' gates and safely transport several soldiers past their walls.
The patricians of the Sonveld do not, in truth, 'raise levies' in the conventional sense. Due to Matthias Soleaners' policy of using community guards as standing armies, instead they offer impoverished youth a position in these guards' ranks in exchange for a substantial pay and education. In times of war, additional gifts are offered to potential recruits and their families. While this way of swelling their forces' numbers may not provide them with as many men as the system of feudal levies would, it has ensured that those men who become guards are better prepared, and with better overall morale, than those who are conscripted in neighbouring realms.
As for the Sonveld's naval power, Matthias and Felix II Soleander's efforts to build a respectable navy have yielded some modest results. The vessels that defend the Sonveld's shores are some of the best gold can buy, but their numbers are few, and their crews and captains lack the experience of their foreign peers. As of today, the Sonveld's fleet is comprised of thirty-two ships.
Landscape
For the most part, the Sonveld is comprised of great fields, plateaus and escarpments, with a few mountains and hills. It is a warm, often arid region, with vast stretches of land with little vegetation, which has faced its fair share of devastating droughts over the centuries. The more temperate areas fare better, with a healthy amount of trees and streams that contrast with the near deserts to be found close by.
Wildlife
The Sonveld is a land of lions, oliphants, zebras and gazelles, with crocodiles and vultures aplenty, and hippopotamuses and leopards always lurking nearby. The kinds of wild beasts that roam this region are unique, countless, and often quite deadly. The peoples of the Sonveld have long since learned to share their country with them, leaving large areas entirely under the rule of the beasts, and hunting them only when they attack.
Economy
The Sonveld is a land of many treasures, and its inhabitants have known to claim these treasures for themselves, and use them to ensure a content existence in a part of the world that can often be very harsh to the souls that dwell in it. The country is prosperous, despite the troubles it has faced over its long history, and the fruits of that prosperity have been shared in a remarkably equitable fashion. The patricians may lead lives of luxury, but their communities get the lion's share of the profits brought by their hard work.
Religion
The worship of Kammeth rules supreme in the Sonveld, though it has not remained in its purest form. The Church of the Sacred Flame, with the undying support of the Celestes, spent centuries trying to erase the last remnants of the Ilanbatu gods of old, yet in the end their success was only partial. No Dovelder worships the Ilabantu pantheon, but most of the Sonveld's inhabitants have integrated many ancient Ilabantu customs into their worship of the god of the Sun. Thus, syncretism has triumphed over puritanism in the long war for the souls of the Sonveld.
Most Guvelders and Dovelders focus their prayers and offerings on Kammeth, as the Sun has long been regarded as a symbol of their nation's heritage, and the whims of the sky play a large part in their daily lives. Gerna, of course, also gets her share of prayers and offerings from the workers in the Sonveld's mines.
History
The Celeste Viceroyalty Valora Celeste returned from Lalaifia's wars as a hero, and with the Empire's wholehearted support in her endeavour to become the sole, undisputed ruler of the Sonveld.
Her aspirations immediately clashed with the patriotic spirit of the patricians, sparking a war of unification that took Valora decades and thousands of Imperial soldiers to win. Victorious but severely weakened, she was recognized by her peers as ruler of the Sonveld, but was not given she crown and throne she had dreamed of. Instead, she was made Vicereine, a title that granted her far less power and prestige, but at least would be passed down to her descendants.
The Celestes reigned supreme for many centuries, and from their seat in the Skygarden brought about a series of reforms that would forever change Sonveld society. However, their efforts to turn the realm into a more cohesive whole floundered as the issue of faith came to the fore. As staunch worshippers of Kammeth, with close ties to the Church of the Sacred Flame, the Celestes would not tolerate the persisting reverence for the Ilanbatu pantheon among the Dovelders. Thus, they led a series of increasingly forceful attempts to impose Kammethian doctrine, which alienated not just the Dovelder patricians, but also many Guvelder patricians who believed that the Kammethian clergy should be subordinated to them. The conflict eventually grew violent, and when the Celestes summoned holy warriors to suppress their opponents, it became the first holy war in Sonveld history. Lasting many years and bringing an end to several patrician families, the war ended in a costly victory for the Celeste, and set the tone of Sonveld politics for the remainder of the Celestes' era.
In the following decades, many holy wars devastated the region, and despite their many successes in the field, the Celestes' hold on the patricians began to slip away. Having squandered their prestige and the goodwill of their allies in a disastrous conflict riddled with atrocities, their position as Viceroys started to feel more and more symbolic. Some patricians went as far as going to the Imperial court itself to demand that a new family be put in charge of the Sonveld. Meanwhile, another patrician family, still dwelling in relative obscurity, plotted to end the Celestes' supremacy from within.
The First Vaelander Usurpation The Vaelanders had served as patricians of Fulsevrant for many generations when their ambitions began to grow. Relying on a large army of their own, and the support of many patricians who saw the very institution of the Viceroyalty as an insult to their heritage, they led a campaign to oust the Celestes, just as the Celestes themselves were fighting yet another Dovelder rebellion. Blindsided by this turn of events, the Celestes were unable to muster the military and political power to oppose them.
In a matter of months, aided in no small part by the complacency of the Imperial court, the Vaelanders succeeded in driving the Celestes out of most of their strongholds, and received the blessing of a majority of the remaining patricians to proclaim themselves rulers of the Sonveld. Thus, the rule of much of the realm was, in practice, placed in the hands of the Vaelanders, beginning an era of grave turmoil.
As rulers of the Sonveld, the Vaelanders distinguished themselves as exceptional military leaders and strict enforcers of the law, but also poor administrators of the realm's coffers, with a penchant for ill-conceived attempts at installing themselves as kings. On the other hand, their rule did heal some of the wounds left by the Celestes' war against the Dovelders, as the Vaelanders helped restore the Dovelders to a position of equity in the realm's politics.
For almost two centuries, the Vaelanders faced no serious opposition from their fellow patricians, particularly after the Empire officially abandoned the Celestes and acknowledged the Vaelanders as viceroys. However, their constant repression of all dissenting voices did, in time, make those patricians who were further from the Vaelanders' core territory begin to consider another change of regime.
The first to rebel were a small coalition, led by Celeste loyalists, although denounced by the Celestes themselves. Despite their small numbers, they put up a fierce resistance, which prolongued the conflict long enough to exhaust some of the Vaelanders' allies, and provoke other patricians to stage their own rebellions. Although most of them were defeated by the Vaelanders' overwhelming force, their efforts succeeded in dividing the realm between the warring factions, leaving the Vaelanders with only a plurality of territories under their control. This state of affairs would set the stage for one of the most critical moments in Sonveld history.
The First Soleander Protectorate Thomas I Soleander, patrician of the Lion's Grave, was twenty years of age when the news of the Grey Mass reached his community. An atrocity that was widely believed to have been plotted by the Vaelanders, they Grey Mass had involved the slaughter of hundreds of people, including several dissident patricians, during a religious celebration in Fulsevrant. Although scholars would later put into question the Vaelanders' alleged involvement, many communities at the time saw it as an intolerable crime, and clamoured to their patricians for justice.
Being a renowned warrior and tactician among his peers, many turned to Thomas I for leadership in their punitive campaign, unaware of the fact that Thomas I had already been planning a rebellion of his own for over a year, as was revealed decades later, in his final confession to his son. Thomas I strongly believed, not only that the Vaelanders did not deserve to rule the Sonveld, but also that he himself was meant to end their tyranny and become the realm's leader.
From the Lion's Grave, Thomas I launched his first ambitious campaign against the Vaelanders, leading an army of several thousands against the viceroyalty's more numerous and more experienced forces. After a series of costly victories, he finally succeeded in breaking the heart of the Vaelanders' military power, with a bold assault on the viceroyalty's main army, which was laying siege to the rebel city of Moringalm. The Moringalm Miracle, as a poet later called named it, left the Vaelanders with only a handful of small batallions and footholds scattered through the rebels' territories, and gave Thomas I a clear path to Fulsevrant.
In his journey to Fulsevrant, Thomas I continued to demonstrate his military genius, but also certain qualities that would later make him rather infamous in certain circles. Proud, self-righteous, and a strong believer in projecting strength through brutality, rather than mercy, when he was not allowing his soldiers to commit atrocities against the peaceful people of the communities he conquered, he was openly encouraging them. Countless innocents were abused and even murdered, and whispers began to circulate of Thomas I's disdain towards Dovelders, and the people of the Fulsevrant community and their brethren.
In the end, however, the worst atrocities of this first campaign were those Thomas I inflicted upon Fulsevrant and the Vaelander family. Not content with using infected corpses to spread diseases within the city's walls, killing hundreds, once he breached Fulsevrant's defenses he had his men capture every child and take them to the Lion's Grave, to be raised as part of his community. As for the Vaelanders themselves, their patrician was publicly executed, and his successor was forced to declare the family eternally unfit for the office of Viceroy of the Sonveld.
Thomas I's victory over the Vaelanders complete, he sought to 'free' the rest of the Sonveld, sending ultimatums to those among his peers who had not joined his alliance already. A large group of these patricians, led by the Celestes and the Onothandos, refused to meet his demands, and called instead for a meeting of all the patricians of the Sonveld to designate a true viceroy. Be it because he knew that he would not be able to sway enough patricians to support his bid, or simply because he did not care for diplomacy, Thomas I boycotted the meeting, and rallied his forces to prepare for a new campaign, this time against the Celestes and the Onothandos.
The meeting, which was almost entirely attended by patricians opposed to Thomas I, overwhelmingly voted in favour of Xolani Onothando as viceroy. Xolani, who was a famous general in his own right, raised an army of his own to meet Thomas I's at the foot of the Azures, in what would turn out to be Thomas I's first major military defeat. With his army in shambles, the young patrician regrouped at the Lion's Grave and prepared for another campaign.
Three years later, with a new army in tow, Thomas I began his second campaign against the new viceroy, defeating him in the battle of Augreid, and forcing him to retreat to his seat in Nensephe Nesibindi. In the months that followed, Thomas I cut his way through the Dovelder communities, all of which had rallied behind the Onothandos. Much like his campaign against the Vaelanders, the march towards Nensephe Nesibindi was marked by atrocities committed against countless innocents, including the capture of hundreds of children, to be raised in the Lion's Grave.
Fearing that this war would soon reach them as well, the Celestes urged the Thomas I and the viceroy to make peace. The treaty that the Celeste, Onothando and Soleander patricians finally signed, after weeks of heated negotiations, recognized Thomas I's newfound power, making him, for all purposes, the most powerful man in the Sonveld, but did not give him the position of viceroy. With this arrangement, a system of government based on hypocrisy was born, as Xolani Onothando continued to rule as viceroy until the day he died, while Thomas I continued his wars against all patricians who resisted him.
Thomas I dominated the Sonveld for over forty years, and he spent the majority of his reign warring against his neighbours, repeatedly putting down the still defiant Vaelanders, and trying over and over to become the de jure ruler of the realm. Despite the thousands of lives lost during his many wars, and the sheer cost of so many years of burnt fields and sieged cities, the Lion's Rock did prosper under some reforms he enacted. When he died, at the age of seventy-one, the warring patrician had come to be known by his community as Thomas the Great, the ruler who, with his sword, had liberated and unified the Sonveld.
After his death, Thomas the Great was succeeded by his only son, Thomas II, who at the time was already a grown man, with children of his own. A far cry from his militant predecessor, Thomas II was a born diplomat, and deeply resented his father's arrogance and love for war. Knowing that the only path to legitimizing his house's role as leaders of the Sonveld would be through reconciliation, he spent the majority of his own reign trying to heal the scars left in Sonveld politics by his father's uncompromising brutality, and a solid legacy his own successors would be able to use to assert themselves before their peers.
The three decades of Thomas II's rule were a time of relative peace, only interrupted by a minor campaign against bandits on the western borders, and mild prosperity. The arts flourished again, in the Lion's Grave and elsewhere, and trade boomed taxes were lowered and long neglected roads were rebuilt. Through a series of pacts, an uneasy but stable alliance was born between the Soleanders and Celestes, which culminated in an arrangement to eventually end the designation of viceroys, and have a new position created after Thomas II passed away.
In the last years of his reign, Thomas II faced his most fundamental crisis yet, as a scandal left his plans on his own succession in disarray. His own son and designated heir, Andreas, became embroiled in a regional controversy after it was discovered that he had murdered a young girl of the Imbasala family. Unwilling to jeopardize his entire life's work, even if it was for his own son, Thomas II chose to disown Andreas, and cast the former Soleander heir's sons out of the Lion's Grave. Already old and with a waning health, he turned his attention to his daughter's son, a lively little boy whose mother had named after him. A few years later, when his heart finally failed him and he passed away, Thomas II was succeeded by this same grandson of his, now an adolescent, leaving behind a recuperated Sonveld, ready for the beginning of a new era.
Thomas III should have had a regent designated by his community, given his age, or he should not have been designated patrician at all. That his community did not hesitate to give him that position with full powers was probably the first sign that a change had come to the way things were done in the Sonveld. As soon as the boy sat on his father's seat, many of his peers wondered, with good reason, if monarchy had finally, officially, come to their realm, wearing the carcass of their hallowed institutions. No patrician had ever been chosen at such young an age, and with nothing but the word of his predecessor to support his bid.
The young new ruler of the Lion's Grave, however, soon proved to be a lot more competent than his fellow patricians had initially expected. Educated in the ways of the diplomat by his grandfather, Thomas III immediately continued his predecessor's work to bring legitimacy to the Soleanders' rule over the Sonveld. Over the course of ten years, he patiently formed a network of alliances and owed favours, which incremented his leverage in the councils that all patricians attended on occasion. With the title of viceroy permanently invalidated, as per Thomas II's arrangement with the Celestes, it fell onto the patricians to decide how they would organize the Sonveld's politics, and who would represent them in the eyes of the Empire.
While he made significant gains through diplomacy alone, it was a single, solitary war that pushed the odds in Thomas III's favour, as a nomadic army of unknown origins landed on the shores of the Sonveld and began to raid its way into the mainland. The invaders advanced swiftly through their territories, so the patricians could not afford to wait for reinforcements from the Heartlands. Instead, Thomas III helped his peers organize the defense of their communities, and created an army with the intent of driving the invaders back to the see. Leading from the front alongsode the Celeste, Vaelander and Imbasala patricians. Relying on subtle strategy, rather than the hard tactics that had made Thomas I famous, Thomas III won a series of major victories, and forced the remnants of the foreign army to return to the seas.
Thomas III's leadership during the war was widely praised by his fellow patricians, and guaranteed the success of his final series of moves to accomplish his grandfather's dream. At the age of twenty-eight, with the near unanimous support of his peers, save for the Vaelander patrician's abstention, Thomas III became the very first Protector of the Sonveld, with the tacit approval of the Imperial court.
The reign of the first Protector was tragically short, but nevertheless significant. Arts and trade continued to flourish under his patronage, and his reforms transformed Sonveld politics. A wave of cultural changes swept the more populous cities and citadels, and the Soleanders themselves witnessed their crowning achievement with the construction of the Sunstone. On matters of war, Thomas III opted to forsake the raising of armies from among the communities, and relied instead on purchasing the services of mercenary armies from abroad, which he regularly used against the bandits that crossed into the Sonveld. The Vaelanders, appeased by a series of consessions, for the first time ceased to be a threat to the authority of their fellow patricians, and the Celestes were glad to distance themselves from the heavy burdens of rule for the time being.
Thomas III perished at the age of thirty-four, consumed by disease, leaving no clear candidate for his succession. In a society that had only on rare occasions handed over the responsibilities of a patrician to a woman, few considered his one and only child, a girl, to be a worthy candidate. It therefor came as a shock when, during the patrician council convened to discuss the designation of a new Protector, the aging Vaelander patrician spoke passionately in her favour.
After several weeks of deliberation, and with several patricians walking out in protest before the last vote took place, Gisela I was chosen to serve as Protector. A few days later, the community of the Sunstone and the Lion's Grave followed suit, and made her patrician of both as well.
Quite similar to her father in many ways, Gisela I was a wise and cautious leader, with a heart full of idealism, and she continued many of her predecessors policies, with one notable exception. In the first months of her rule, she expelled each and every last mercenary army in the Sonveld, and advocated for the creation of a chivalric order to stand in their place. The Knights Solar, comprised of knights both local and foreign, became the enforcers of the patricians' will in peacetime, and the vanguard of the Protectors' armies in wartime.
With a rule as prosperous as her father's, if not even more so, when Gisela I passed away, old and unmarried, she was considered one of the finest rulers in the Sonveld's history. Her legacy of order and growth would withstand the test of time, even when her successors proved to be incompetent.
The Second Vaelander Usurpation Gisela I left no children when she passed away, and though Andreas Soleander was long dead, the patricians had not forgotten his crime. Thus, when the time came to designate the patricians for the Sunstone and the Lion's Grave, and the new Protector, the communities and patricians in question found themselves at a loss. While the Soleanders' seats were eventually handed over to Andreas' descendants, with some grumbling from the Imbasala, the patricians remained in a deadlock, with a dozen candidates all pressing bids for the highest office in the Sonveld.
The Vaelander patrician, Joachim, had the most supporters, but was still far from having the majority he needed. As the void in the realm's politics began to be felt in every community, and even outside of it, impatience grew, and word of a possible usurpation began to spread.
Finally, as violence began to break out between members of different factions, Joachim Vaelander proposed a series of duels between the candidates to resolve the issue, citing the traditions of their ancestors from the north. After much debate, the council came to an agreement, and the duels were held. Joachim, who had been a Knight Solar before his designation as patrician, defeated all of his opponents, and o the day of his final victory, he was proclaimed Protector.
As the first Vaelander to legitimately become ruler of the Sonveld, Joachim exceeded most expectations. He delegated on the matters he understood the least, and mostly carried on with his predecessors' policies. Though circumstances began to stagnate near the end of his life, his rule was nevertheless a period of stability.
Joachim was succeeded by a series of Vaelander Protectors, inaugurating a period of increased stagnation and corruption in the administration of the Sonveld's affairs. Relations with the Church of the Sacred Flame deteriorated, and by the time the fifth Vaelander Protector, a mere child, was murdered by his own mother, the patricians had grown tired of their dynasty.
An elderly Celeste Protector named Maarten followed the Vaelander child, and his rule would later be remembered as 'the Celestial Mistake', for the series of grossly incompetent policies enacted by him. Seven years after his designation, an increasingly alienated council of patricians chose a Vaelander again.
The Second Soleander Protectorate The reign of the sixth and last Vaelander Protector of that era was not nearly as disastrous as Maarten Celeste's. But the time of his death found exhausted patricians, and even more exhausted communities, yearning for an end to decades of decadence.
It was with that yearning in their hearts that the patricians in council found themselves tempted by a young Soleander girl, descended from Andreas Soleander, who had come to them with hopeful poems written by her, and vague proposals for a regional rebirth. Despite the skepticism of a large number of patricians, and the Vaelanders' outrage, Gisela II became the new Protector.
The third woman to become Protector, Gisela II was unable to make all her poetic promises become a reality, yet she did attract much enthusiasm with the construction of hospitals, schools and churches throughout the Sonveld. She came to be loved by the clergy and the poor, and respected by the more pious patricians. Dying a mere five years after her designation, she was the first Sonveld ruler to be buried in the Church of the Sacred Flame's main temple in Lalrial.
Her successor, Thomas IV, neglected much of her charity work, and instead focused on improving the realm's roads and defenses. By the end of his twenty-eight years in power, the Sonveld had several new citadels, with their own communities and patricians, and the great road leading to the Heartlands was teeming with merchant caravans from all over Ethica.
The Third Vaelander Usurpation Thomas IV was the first Protector to resign, rather than rule until the end of his days. Due to his poor health, and concerns about his mental state after a particularly serious episode, he stepped down and presented his brother, Pascal, as his candidate for succession. A council was convened in the Sunstone, and deliberations began on whether to accept Pascal as the next Protector, or choose another candidate. Opposing Pascal was Stephan Vaelander, supported by many Dovelder patricians, who favoured his writings on the crimes of the Soleanders' crimes against the Dovelders.
In a series of incidents collectively referred to by historians as 'the Night of Madness', a fire burned down a whole floor of the Soleander palace, killing half a dozen patricians, Thomas the IV suffocated in his sleep, Pascal fled, and Stephan took control of the Sunstone. The latter was seen by many of his peers as a bloodless coup but, despite their protestations, they were forced to participate in a new round of deliberations and votes. With no stronger candidates left, since the remaining Soleanders were either too young or too old, Stephan won.
Stephan Vaelander's first move as Protector was to marry one of Thomas IV's daughters, and bring much of his household to the Sunstone, which became his de facto capital. From there, he led the Sonveld through three decades of political unease and economic growth, as he attempted, with little success, to join the Soleanders and Vaelanders into a single, all-powerful dynasty.
Stephan's successors gave up on his dream of Soleander-Vaelander unity. His son, Joachim III, moved the capital back to Fulsevrant and formally severed all ties with the Soleanders, starting an era of Vaelander hegemony that would last for two centuries.
The Third Soleander Protectorate Joachim VI, a man of great ambitions and constant prevarications, had ruled unopposed for a decade. Though most of his honest endeavours as Protector had ended in disappointment, and his successes had all come from intrigues, his predecessors' legacy of orderly rule had kept most dissenting voices at bay. Because of this, it caused quite the stir in his household when he found that his family's rule was suddenly being challenged by the Soleanders once more.
Having spent two centuries in obscurity, almost forgotten by old friends and rivals alike, the Soleanders had finally come out from hiding, claws bared. Led by Willemina, the widowed patrician of the Lion's Grave, and Matthias, the stern and imposing young patrician of the Sunstone, this new generation of the once great dynasty presented itself to the Sonveld as a spirited and virtuous alternative to the Vaelanders' constant floundering and dishonourable policies.
In an attempt to end the Soleanders' threat against his family's position before it could gain any allies, Joachim VI raised an army and marched on the Sunstone. His attack, which was poorly coordinated, was swiftly transformed into one of the most embarrassing retreats in the Sonveld's military history, as his armies were chased down by Matthias and his men.
As word of Joachim VI's attack and defeat reached the other patricians, the political crisis, which had only been looming in the horizon up until that moment, exploded into a regional scandal. Patricians rallied behind each side, and skirmishes on the borders between communities began to take place all over the Sonveld. The Celestes called for a council, hoping that diplomacy would solve the conflict, but it was only attended by a small handful of patricians.
The clashes between Matthias and Joachim VI continued in the fields over the course of the year, while Willemina met with the Celestes, and some Vaelanders who opposed Joachim VI's schemes, and worked on containing the violence and planning the political transition. Repeatedly defeated by Matthias' military superiority, and rapidly losing his allies among the patricians, Joachim VI returned to Fulsevrant, and pressured those patricians still loyal to him to boycott all political proceedings.
With the battle for the fields won, Matthias turned his eyes to the diplomatic battle. Showing unexpected mercy to Joachim VI's supporters, he circulated a written promise that they would not only avoid punishment, but also be rewarded and protected by his family, if they agreed to participate in a council to freely discuss the deposition of Joachim VI, and the designation of a new Protector. Persuaded by the Celestes' endorsement of that promise, and news of Matthias' humane treatment of the patricians he had captured in battle, enough patricians came forward to force Joachim VI and his few remaining friends to recognize the legitimacy of the council, and submit themselves to its decisions.
The council itself lasted two weeks, during which Joachim VI's envoys did their best to obstruct Matthias' bid. A scandalous game of bribes and blackmails ensued, and the council was almost dissolved.
The tarnished proceedings were saved by the Willemina, the Celestes and their friends in the Imperial court, who arranged for a series of reforms in the relationship between the Sonveld and the Empire, which would be undertaken if, and only if, Joachim VI resigned. Having lost all leverage among his peers, and with threats of usurpation within his own family, Joachim VI finally agreed to step down before a vote on his deposition was held, and returned to Fulsevrant without presenting any opposing candidates for Matthias' bid.
Matthias was chosen to be the next Protector of the Sonveld with the unanimous support of all the remaining patricians, and almost immediately he enacted a full pardon for all his rivals, including Joachim VI. Once he was safely back in the Sunstone, he began his work to radically change, and hopefully improve, the way things were done in the realm. He reorganized the realm's various guilds into great companies, subsidized by his family's vast wealth, and forced the local clergy to accept several reforms to their doctrine and practices, so as to bring them closer to the customs of the Sonveld's communities. He regularly consulted with the representatives of the Sunstone's community when considering new policies, and transformed the city's guard into a powerful standing army, and strongly recommended all his fellow patricians to follow his example. The long neglected ports along the Sonveld's shores received some much needed funding, along with their very own patricians, and efforts were made to build a respectable navy to protect them.
A hard, formidable man, with a strong sense of patriotic pride, and a deep-seated distaste for decadence and intrigues, Matthias Soleander came to be revered by patricians and communities alike. Few dared to cross him, and most were happy to hand the reins of the Sonveld's administration to a man who seemed to bring order and prosperity with him wherever he went. Though many were taken aback by his apparent humourlessness, and his tendency to severely punish those he thought incompetent, those who were closest to the man knew him to be capable of remarkable displays of love and solidarity, albeit always masked by his persistent severity. He married well into his adulthood, and his bride of choice was a young woman from the Sunstone's community called Alexandra, whom he was said to love dearly. The same was said about his only son, named after his grandfather, who Matthias spent most of his precious moments of leisure with.
Almost three decades after becoming Protector, being at the height of his power and prestige, nobody expected Matthias Soleander to face any grave threats to his position, let alone his life. What none of his allies had counted on, however, was that the reforms he pushed on the Sonveld's clergy would lead to the birth of a militant movement that would conspire to plunge the whole realm into fiery chaos.
The Sunborn, as they called themselves, hid in plain sight among the patricians and representatives of the communities, secretly aided by resentful members of the clergy. As their visible faces spent their days grumbling about Matthias Soleander's reforms in public, their secret leaders spent the nights planning a glorious revolution to restore the realm's holiness in the eyes of Kammeth. They spread slowly but surely throughout the region, attracting all manner of disgruntled fanatics into their ranks, and as the twenty-eighth summer solstice of Matthias Soleander's rule approached, they readied to strike.
The Bloody Solstice, the culmination of Sunborn's years of plotting, began while summer solstice celebrations were being held in five different cities, with several patricians attending each. In each of these celebrations, the Sunborn patricians and their soldiers there present staged great massacres, during which most of the patricians attending were killed, along with members of their families. In some of those massacres, entire palaces were burned, and whole families were exterminated, quickly creating gaping voids in the Sonveld's politics.
Because of the great distances between Insimu Lezinkanyezi, where Matthias and his newphew, Jonathan, were attending a feast, and the patrician seats attacked the night before, news of the events taking place could not reach the Protector in time. Thus, Matthias and Jonathan Soleander were murdered in the second night of the Bloody Solstice, along with most of the Imbasala family.
The killing of the Sonveld's leader immediately sent shockwaves throughout the realm, as the massacres continued in other cities and citadels. The surviving patricians scrambled to put up an organized defense against these attacks from within their own ranks, and the Celestes desperately tried to take the reins of the realm's governance as they pleaded for Imperial assistance. As the eight days that comprised the Bloody Solstice came to an end, the realm found itself on the verge of chaos.
In a surprising move, which could be said to have been the key to the Sonveld's salvation from yet another civil war, the Vaelander patrician, Stephan II, joined forces with Willemina Soleander, and mustered an army to seek out and bring all the Sunborn to justice. Joined by a deeply grief-stricken, but nevertheless capable Felix II, who the Sunstone's community had quickly designated as his father's successor, the Soleander-Vaelander alliance pursued and captured, or killed, all the Sunborn who could not flee to the Heartlands.
Four months later, with some pockets of Sunborn resistance still remaining, Felix II was named Protector of the Sonveld, despite his uncle Adrian's aggressive campaign in opposition, and he set out to bring a definitive end to the crisis, and help provide the communities of the region with a semblance of normality. With many of the ancient patrician families extinguished during the Bloody Solstice, their communities had to choose patricians from among themselves for the first time in centuries, a process that the Soleander-Vaelander alliance kept a close eye on.
Four years have passed since then, and the Sonveld remains not only intact, but prosperous. Despite the scars left by its history, both recent and ancient, its communities and patricians press forward, ever committed to their patriotic ideals. Felix II, heir to his father's great legacy, has done his best to fill the void left by his predecessor's passing, with more than enough success to give those who voted for him renewed confidence.
The troubles faced by the Sonveld, however, are far from fading. Adrian Soleander's campaign to depose his nephew carries on, a looming shadow on the sunlit fields and plateaus of the region. And though the days of the Vaelanders' royal ambitions are far from over, the patriotism that has been at the core of the Sonveld's spirit since time immemorial may ultimately prove too large for a measly Imperial vassal state.
Strengths
The Opulent -The roads of the Sonveld are not, as some singers would claim, paved in gold and gems. However, the gold and gems within the caravans that travel on those roads are, indeed, quite plentiful. The Sonveld may lack the fertility of the neighbouring Gwethydd, but it remains one of the wealthiest regions in Ethica, thanks to the great deposits that the gods saw fit to bless it with. Joachim IV Vaelander once remarked, albeit with tinges of bitterness, that the patricians of the Sonveld could easily purchase victory in war, or bankrupt their foes into submission, if only they would stop glorifying bloodshed. The Untamed - Since the arrival of the Guvelders, no foreign army has ever succeeded at conquering the Sonveld. Indeed, any who would try would have to face off against a harsh, wild land, filled with dangerous beasts. The patricians of the realm have had centuries to learn how to wage war in their unforgiving home, how to survive through a severe drought, how to avoid the wrath of their great animals, and how to lay siege to an unreachable citadel that sits atop a great plateau. The people of the Sonveld, be they Guvelders or Dovelders, have been blessed with one of the worst regions to invade, and know how to use it.
Weaknesses
The Few - An unforgiving land will seldom lend itself to becoming a populous realm. The Sonveld is, unfortunately, no exception to this rule. Its inhabitants' numbers have barely grown over the past century, and its armies have never been a match for those of the Heartlands or Gwethydd. Without resorting to the services of mercenary companies, it is doubtful that the Sonveld could ever hope to muster a force capable of invading a neighbouring territory. The Troubled - Nothing in the Sonveld is ever set in stone. Thomas III admitted as much in his proclamation, when he was chosen Protector of this realm. No patrician is ever truly, completely safe in his position, nor is there any guarantee that the most powerful family will always receive the highest honours from its peers. In half a millennium, the Soleanders have been both rulers of the Sonveld and a marginal player in the greater scheme of things. The Vaelanders, for all their lofty ambitions, have often been on the verge of fading from history altogether. The Sonveld is not a land of enduring stability, and its friends and foes alike know it well.
Exports
Precious stones and metals - For centuries, the Sonveld has competed with Violette over the trade of gold and diamonds. Great mines can be found all over the region, providing the patricians with a wide variety of gemstones and valuable metals that is difficult to find elsewhere. Art - Throughout the Sonveld's history, only during short periods of great strife did the arts cease to flourish, and thus the centuries have left the region's palaces and citadels with massive collections of masterpieces, for which many foreign nobles and merchants have plunged themselves into misery or heavy debt. Almost all the great households in Ethica possess at least one piece that was imported from the Sonveld, or paid a hefty fee for the privilege of employing a famous artist under a patrician family's patronage. It is often said that there must not be a single work of art in the continent that has not been touched by a Sonveld finger. Metals - In their ravenous hunger for precious ores, many patricians have stumbled upon iron and copper deposits, large enough to be worth the effort of mining and refining them. While they may not be the greatest in the continent, nor yield profits as substantial as those from earned from the gold and diamond trade, these mines produce more than enough to provide for some of the Sonveld's neighbours. Grapes and wine - The Sonveld was not blessed with a particularly fertile land, but during the rule of Gisela I Soleander great efforts were made to turn some of the least arid areas into vineyards. Under Gisela I's patronage, these vineyards thrived, and by the time of her death, the Sonveld boasted some of the continent's most prestigious winemakers. Today, and despite the damage done to them by the Bloody Solstice, these same wineries continue to supply Ethica with many fine vintages.
Imports
Grains - It was Thomas III Soleander who famously said that farming in the Sonveld was an endeavour of virtuous foolishness, commendable in its intent, but ultimately doomed. The fact of the matter is that the region's relatively small population is a blessing, for if it were as large as many of its neighbours', hunger would be a lot more common. The Sonveld is not fertile enough to provide grain for all its inhabitants, and thus the patricians have for centuries relied on imports. Cattle - There is no shortage of great beasts in the Sonveld, but few patricians have attempted to domesticate them, and often with poor results. Most have instead made their best effort by importing breeds from abroad and leaving their care in the hands of their communities. Either way, the people of the region have never been known as great ranchers. Fabrics - A handful of brave souls have tried, over the centuries, to raise sheep and grow cotton in the Sonveld. The sheep have always ended up falling prey to the feline beasts native to the region, and the cotton plantations have seldom survived the occasional droughts. Most fabrics used for clothing in the Sonveld have had to come from abroad. Furniture and lumber products - Trees large enough to be worth cutting are a rarity in the Sonveld's fields, and the hills and plateaus are not much better. More often than not, the wood used to furnish the homes of the people, be they patricians or their communities, has to be imported. In some less patriotic households, entire pieces of furniture are purchased from foreign merchants.
There is always space for more players! At the moment, there are about two spots left for an Imperial house, and about two to three spots for a Nordhiemer tribe.
What is in beige(dull yellow) in the east are open spots.
Aufklarung
