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The Reign of Siblings, as it is now known as within history books, was known to be exceptional even in the day by the historians of the time. Never before had so many siblings ascended to positions of power in Alberia and collectively maintained as remarkably peaceful a reign. Previous relative-heavy administrations usually prove more fraught, familial infighting adding a new axis for struggle and conflict, making this era all the more unprecedented.
Headed by the eldest, King Leonidas I (leading to a colloquial nickname for the assembly: the Leonine, referring to both their head and their number), the family governed many disparate areas in their stewardship of Alberia. His rule, just as his father King Aurelius’ before, passed with remarkably few scandals or other similar upheavals of true magnitude. In fact, it is popularly accepted that the myriad conspiracies that float around Alberia to this day about the family are a reflection of the distinct lack of typical scandals that left citizens searching for drama. The economy prospered, scientific knowledge advanced tremendously, new technology flourished, alliances were made… Alberia during this time managed to exceed what had been speculated as a golden age in King Aurelius’ reign by contemporary historians.
But what of the scions themselves? Speculation abounds, even to this day, about the dragonblood that brought about this ‘golden-golden’ age. While some of the generation’s lives are almost completely mapped out, others remain tantalizingly obscure objects of interest to this date. With the rampant mix of fact, fiction, and rumors about this almost-mythical generation, the Alberian Historical Society embarked on an expedition to piece together a more evidenced description. Through the combing of newspapers, official statements, private writings, and much more, we intend to fill in the knowledge gaps of these influential figures no matter the size of the mystery.
The many contributors of this work hope that it can become a definitive guide and historical catalogue regarding the scions. However, with each member’s section possessing over one hundred pages, the Alberian Historical Society has decided to provide a more cursory introduction to each member. We hope this measure makes it more accessible to both complete novices in history as well as dedicated royal scholars.
Leonidas
King Leonidas I signaled his purpose and philosophy in ruling at the first bell, refusing an increasingly antiquated tradition to change names upon ascending. His ascension appeared to be almost frightening to the populace at the time, fearing the unknown in his unorthodox intent in the wake of his father’s characterized slow and steady adjustments. Indeed, the new king moved rapidly in making several reforms, including shuffling around budgets away from the more performative acts of the monarchy and into more ‘practical’ areas. This did not help his initial perception, citizens seeing the reduced outward display of strength as a sign of weakness, but King Leonidas’ investments soon bore fruit and subsequently raised public opinion of him.
His reign also proved atypical in the record slow acquisition of a spouse. Royal households, especially the reigning monarch, historically find a significant other in great speed to ensure the continuation of their lineage when following an inheritance scheme similar to Alberia’s, partly one of primogeniture. While his siblings are recorded making humorous jabs at this, especially by insinuating this was a reflection on his character, Leonidas himself seemed unconcerned. In fact, writings from the time indicate a marked indifference if he ever would marry or the crown pass to a sibling’s child. In the end, though, Leonidas found a queen in the form of Princess Novia, who hailed from the icy wastes of Glaithys to northern Grastea. The princess proved as similarly hungry for change and outspoken as Leonidas was, and the two nations kindled a bond that could culminate in marriage not one year later.
Together, the two continued the royal bloodline with six heirs, including eldest princess Sagitta, twin princes Castor and Pollux, princesses Aeria and Amethyst, and youngest prince Aulonius. His siblings would often blame the numerous heirs as an excuse not to feel any pressure to produce any heirs themselves; King Leonidas was not amused by these arguments, but reluctantly acquiesced for reasons unknown.
Despite his siblings’ surprisingly active roles in the King’s children’s rearing, Leonidas himself was distant from his children and content to leave them under his siblings’ guidance. He demanded similar obedience as his father before, though was not noted as overly harsh. Instead, the next generation made note of his taxing expectations over anything else, the ‘golden prince’ expecting similar quality for all his heirs. This standard eventually bit the Kingdom at the same time it was nourished. Though most heirs became accomplished, -Sagitta as an effective queen, the twin princes as effective heads of the kingdom intelligence, and so on, -not all ascended to greatness. Princess Amethyst, for one, after an attempted mass assassination, was sentenced to death by her own father.
It was a fate not seen in the family for three generations, and one that stoked new appreciation or fear for King Leonidas. Some praised his willingness to mete out the same fate a commoner would receive for such a plot, others were concerned it was a warning sign of a bloodier time. The latter group’s concerns were emboldened when Leonidas abruptly upheaved the order of succession to an agnatic seniority one in the wake of the attack. He would eventually reinstate the original order once he had ascertained his other heirs’ worthiness, but the time period of this change was perhaps the most unsettled era of his reign.
The King himself struck a strange balance between coldness and emotional intensity, with many who met him often remarking on his piercingly bright green eyes that almost appeared luminescent. Personal writings seem to indicate a similar balance, with the private fervor enclosed in writings often deliberately tapered and harnessed into logical efficiency. This attitude led to mixed-to-positive relations with his siblings over the course of their lives, who, despite their own varied temperaments, were often dissimilar from Leonidas’.
King Leonidas was pacted to Mars, the Blazewyrm that coincidentally was the inspiration of the king’s month of birth, a dragon that reflected his own ambition. However, in contrast to Mars’ historical legacy of ravaging lands in firestorms, the dragon’s hunger for power seemed curiously sated by the role he played in King Leonidas’ court: a frightening representation of his pactbearer’s will. Whether he was stationed as an unofficial ruler for problematic areas or merely a background piece in Leonidas’ court, Mars was the embodiment of Leonidas’ presence in an area and effectively cowed much challenge to the nation or Leonidas himself. However, the startlingly quick change in behavior was the source of a conspiracy that the king had somehow drugged the wyrm into compliance with his famous curry- a thing Mars (and everyone who tried it) earnestly adored.
His Gift took the form of a major change to the structure of governance of Alberia. The king, vaunting talent above station of birth, felt the current system of governance overly favored nobility, -a group he long quarreled with over his life, -and so had an equally-powerful commoner’s parliament established, as well as the integration of select leaders among the ruler’s private council. While other countries especially were skeptical of this move and anticipated a coup soon if the peasantry were further ‘emboldened’, the system worked surprisingly well after the initial outrage among nobility.
In contrast to his father, who had abdicated after slowly passing on responsibilities, King Leonidas reigned until the day he died from natural causes in 367 at the age of 87. Purportedly, his last words were in open critique of the castle’s priest, attempting to affirm the King’s faith: “Begone with you, man, that I might begone with myself.” At this point, half of the ‘Leonine’ had perished, leaving the rest with mounting apprehension at who would be the last standing of their generation. Leonidas’ reign, above all, was remembered for its boldness and willingness to implement change on both a short- and long-term basis. In fact, he is associated so much with this concept that a new word emerged in Alberian vocabulary and later accepted into Grastean dictionaries, describing the fierceness and bravery he represented: ‘leonid’.
Phares
Prince Phares (often miswritten phonetically as ‘Farez’ in translations from Middle Alberian), if nothing else, was a man with many hats. Throughout his life, he served the kingdom as an advisor, Court Alchemist, scholar, and even a physician. Commonly, this is attributed to the wyrmscale he developed as a child, which increasingly restricted his ability to do anything but read and other activities of minor strain. With the bountiful reading that followed, the prince was able to devise his own personal remedy to halt his wyrmscale.
As an adult, Prince Phares grew able to contribute to many fields, including engineering, archaeology, history, agriculture, and city planning, -though his most famous contributions were to the fields of alchemy and medicine. Alchemy as a field was divided in twain through his study. Though the name ‘alchemy’ remained to describe the study of interactions of mana and base materials, ‘chemistry’ honed in on the aforementioned base materials exclusively.
The prince did more than just divide, however. In medicine, his specialty more proved to be the synthesis of knowledge and medicine. His contributions were numerous and great enough to catapult the art into a new age. In fact, through his lifelong work, several specialized new fields in medicine were generated outright. The first field was jokingly called ‘Pharesmancy’ by those familiar with him, -the magic of ‘whatever the hell the prince does’, as put by one. Over time, this name warped to ‘pharmacy’ and related ‘pharmacology’. His talent with alchemy also spawned a skill to create medicinal drugs, unintentionally inspiring what would be anesthesiology from some of his refinement of incapacitating concoctions. Far from confined to medicine, he also made broader contributions. Other creations of his included new techniques to deliver nutrients, water, and medicine through the very veins and the related equipment.
Prince Phares also apparently delighted in puzzles both physical and philosophical, engaging with them and even creating them as a sort of hobby. ‘Phares’ wager’ remains to this day unanswered, positing that humans are among the beings that can reincarnate as dragons do. The Ilian Church of the time took umbrage with it, issuing censure over the presumption of humans as equally divine as dragonkind, but he refused to rescind the argument.
It was but one drop in some of the broader back-and-forth relationship between the entities, as Phares had also once been under investigation for potentially illicit draconic artifacts. While he had been cleared in the aforementioned incident (the scales turned out to be a mixture of his brother Euden’s and ones granted by dragons voluntarily), suspicion remained. Thus far, there is no evidence to suggest the prince was ultimately blasphemous even by the standards du jour. What is true is that he and most of his siblings held a more freeform spirituality, a topic discussed and explored in his own book The Spirits’ Spiral .
The second prince was pactbound to Uranus, a similarly scholarly dragon who was atypically interested in humanity. The two, by all accounts, were very close, having encountered each other when Phares was but a child. Their markedly early pact caused some uproar: it pushed both the contemporary guess of a minimum survivable age to pact and also was speculated by some to be a coup attempt. Though this tension settled down early, it flared up again when Phares regained his status as Crown Prince after Leonidas’ temporary reorganization of succession.
Both actual parties to the pact ignored the drama both times and instead focused on exchanging their knowledge to help the other learn more. Uranus often flew to distant locations, especially bookstores and libraries, so that he might return books to the prince, who could read them and relay their content to the dragon. Thanks to Uranus’ impressively fast speed in the air due to his massive wings and mastery over wind mana, any library books could then be returned well in advance of when they were due. Scholars of the royal family speculate if Uranus served to Phares as a living repository for all he had learned, as it was a known discomfort to him that everything he knew would invariably be lost if not recorded or recollected.
While noted to get on his elder brother’s nerves as the two often disagreed on matters of governance, scholars oft look to Phares’ continued presence as the king’s most trusted advisor for evidence of their close relations despite this. Rulers often have good cause indeed to fear the next-in-line’s potential machinations as Prince Phares was so for so long, and yet Leonidas heard him as an advisor for the entirety of his reign to no ill-effect. Commonly described by contemporary sources as intelligent, kind, and diligent, Phares largely maintained very good relations with the entirety of his family.
Among his most famous contributions was his Gift, which took the form of an entire university in the heart of Sol Alberia. Disappointed by the recent quality of Sol Alberia’s institutes, particularly in the instruction of the truly ‘high’ education, the prince donated a truly breathtaking amount to will a new university into existence. The university first solely instructed in the exceptionally difficult professions at first, -engineering, mana, healing and doctoral programs, among others, with quite a few curriculum that the prince himself gave heavy influence to in structure. Its inconceivable ascension to fame for its quality allowed the university to expand into more degrees. To this day, it remains a most prestigious place of learning.
Of particular note is its Panacea Program, a mixed healing-doctoral degree that, while an intellectually grueling and decade-long path, produces the absolute best in the recovery arts. Created in collaboration between Prince Phares and Princess Zethia, its worldwide encompassment of all knowledge reflects in the accomplishments of its graduates, who have gone on to cure illnesses thought a death sentence and improved entire countries’ well-being. The two would occasionally teach classes themselves later in life, especially in the capstone courses that synthesized all knowledge. Ironically, what had started as a gift to the public came back around to his family in later generations: among its eventual graduates’ accomplishments were progresses in wyrmscale management. What first amounted to a better life expectancy for the terminal illness eventually could be contained before anything more than a second scale can emerge.
As much as the world itself may have benefited from him, however, nothing can last forever. Prince Phares was the third of his family to pass away, unmarried and childless at the age of 79 in 360, by all appearances from wyrmscale-influenced pneumonia. While the disease itself had long been in remission, the damage it left on his lungs weakened him just enough for a severe variety of pneumonia to prove that much deadlier. While this might appear a good lifespan, the truth is more muddled. As the Alberian Royal Family either tend to die exceedingly young (<20) or old (88<), this age would actually be considered a ‘shorter’ life. His exact last words were not recorded, but the sentiment was apparently that of curiosity of what would happen to him, the world left behind, and those in it.
Chelle
Princess Chelle was but one of two princesses in the generation, a fact that she never let slow her down. Though she often complained in jest about the unequal distribution of brothers to sisters, Chelle maintained good relations with the entire family. She worked particularly closely and often with her elder brothers; the trio formed an informal power center whose powers and competencies effectively put a harness on the workings of the government. Aside from them, she also was a frequent, if secret, collaborator with younger brother Beren in his messaging work.
Her particular specialty was information. For things on a truly ‘need to know’ basis, be they foreign nation’s imminent political moves or public perception, Princess Chelle was the person to go to. Her spies were often affectionately referred to as ‘[Chelle’s] kittens’, a thing that had some confused if this appellation was literal. These rumors and guesses were fanned by the identity of her pacted dragon, Cat Sìth, a giant feline dragon (these rumors are explored in page 324). The cat-like dragon proved a common shadow to Chelle in Chanzelia, who in turn seemed to treat the dragon as a particularly amusing-if-beloved pet. The extent of this web of intelligence was not exposed in full until long after her death, though few had inklings that the princess was atypically well-informed. Her public excuse for any such knowledge was her public persona of a socialite with a fondness for parties.
While the princess did enjoy her parties and corresponding indulgences very much, her siblings more attributed that to the information she could gather there. Indeed, her personal writings seemed to support this, one reading in part, “What better way to ply people’s minds into honeyed openness with the comfort of food, drink, and dance?”. Between the parties and the spy network she ran, Chelle was the centerpiece of Alberia’s international intelligence for both King Aurelius and Leonidas’ reigns. It is speculated that many an attempted assassination, domestic or foreign, would have succeeded without her intervention. She also is believed to be a considerable reason why Alberia was able to adapt as well as it did in the initially tumultuous years of the technological boom.
While other nations and even domestic nobles feared the rapid advancement in technology, Chelle’s steady direction over Chanzelia ensured Alberia’s continued dominance. Between her own ideas, excavated items of a bygone age, and more, Chanzelia would become known as a center of advanced technology. Perhaps more impressively, the princess was not distracted in a short-sighted, wanton pursuit of these new contraptions. She consulted with various experts, the Court Mage, and more, all to ensure that this new item or process would not harm the workings of mana overmuch. As such, dragons reluctantly would accept once-foreign sights made anew in the modern age; the singular Draconic Council called to address the issue ending in a clear vote to abstain from intervention.
More personally, Princess Chelle bucked her siblings’ remarkably empty romantic lives and instead pursued the Royal Guard Captain of the time, a man by the name of Leif. Despite the bevy of attempted suitors, she remained steadfast in her desire for the man who had served as a universally trusted figure in the royal family. Royal historians speculate this may be in part to his purportedly honest and virtuous behavior, which the princess may have appreciated in an environment so entrenched with smooth-talkers and duplicitous elements. Regardless of what compelled her, the princess’ metaphorical hunt succeeded eventually, and the two were wed when the princess was thirty-two.
Though a seemingly happy marriage (though the Alberian Historical Society would like to note that if any member of the royal family were able to conceal information to the contrary, it would have been the princess), Chelle’s wedded life was not universally happy. Her singular attempted bearing of a scion ended poorly. Though her pregnancy and labor seemed typical, even humorous at the start, -with King Leonidas having to fire Leif for a day to force him to part from his duties, joy would soon turn sour. A surprise complicated delivery and continued illness would come quickly for the young daughter before she had gained a name. The tragedy left the princess reluctant to take such risk again.
Instead, the princess seemed content in meddling with the King’s children, a thing he much complained about but ultimately allowed. As a result of this, princes Castor and Pollux in particular grew attached to their ‘auntie’ Chelle, and would eventually succeed her. Even before they formally took over, all three seemingly enjoyed exploiting the twins’ capacity to swap places.
Her Gift took the form of the ‘instance-drawer’, a device that could imprint the fine details of a moment of time. It would later be known as a ‘camera’. The princess seemed devoted to ensuring that every household in Alberia could afford the tool, continually refining the material, assembly, and ease of use. The civilian population was delighted but befuddled at this seemingly random gift, the princess’ investment in industry and technology lesser-known. Their befuddlement was shared by contemporary officials, confused at why the princess was making such a valuable spying technology open knowledge. The truth was just one more example of Chelle’s trickeries - evidence suggests other nations were starting to figure out the tech itself and correlate it with Alberian spies, and so by her propagating the technology to everyone, it no longer became an identifying mark of a spy.
Despite her noted aversion to personal strain, Chelle was among the last members of her family to perish in 384. Her death at 102 from natural causes was met with great sadness from both public and the royal family, who had grown well-accustomed to her in a certain matriarchal role. The princess herself seemed to have accepted her imminent death, content in her long life and wishing to be apart from her fallen kin and husband no longer.
Perhaps fittingly, none claim to know her last words.
Valyx
One of Prince Valyx’s nicknames was ‘the Silent Mountain’, a title he very much earned. Though notably larger than his kin, he used none of his presence to assert himself in the government or public life. Both internal and external sources in the family conclude this to be a reflection of the prince’s belief that his siblings would be better at the management of the kingdom. Prince Valyx was far from idle, though, instead charging himself with the protection of said kingdom and the unity of the family.
What had started in youth as the typical combat training given to all Alberian heirs became a lengthy career in the military. Though he would eventually be entrusted with the entire armed forces by King Leonidas, Valyx’s longest stint was as a captain of an elite platoon that later became its own brigade. Much like its leader, the group was known as the ‘Greatbears’ from the prince’s personal standard. Famed for its discipline and skill, the Greatbear platoon would unintentionally avert a war once by repelling a Svenitlan agitationary force so effectively through ironclad defense that neither side sustained injuries (leaving no casus belli Svenitla hoped to use). Between his and his other siblings’ actions demonstrating Alberia’s absolute control and might over Svenitla, it is strongly speculated that without them, the two nations would have entered war.
Valyx’s disposition was often described as fearsome, though those that knew him claimed him much softer in person. This claim is partly evidenced with the rare non-military speeches he gave; they displayed a certain awkwardness in verbiage and cadence that his smoother-talking siblings lacked that suggested an internal discomfort. The combination of his character and appearance made Valyx a highly-desirable bachelor among the royal family, with many around the capital and kingdom building a certain idealized, romantic vision of the man.
Any hopes of snagging this supposed ‘Teddy Bear Prince’ would be dashed. Prince Valyx was apparently no more adept in romantic matters than he was public address, and led a similarly-empty romantic life. It is said that Princess Chelle apparently tried to remedy this at times, setting her brother up with potential matches, but none of these approximations of arranged courtship bore fruit.
Prince Valyx was pacted to Thor, the Fulminator, a dragon so powerful and connected with lightning that some mistook him as the Lightwyrm himself. Winning the pact through a traditional Dragon Choosing involving combat with the dragon in question, this move solidified his status and accomplishments. While the two were not noted as sharing as personal a bond as some of the other siblings’ pacts, Thor seemingly held a soft spot himself for his pactbearer. The dragon once single handedly routed an attempted kidnapping, presumably by a foreign nation. The presumptive part of the aforementioned sentence lies not in the speculation of a foreign nation’s involvement (as the group was too large and well-armed to be anything else) but in the specific nation, as all traces of their existence were smote to literal ash.
Atypically for the Alberian Royal Family, Prince Valyx studied the axe above all other weaponry. Some nobles attempted to use this and his occasional gruff demeanor as an excuse to critique his standing, to no effect. While it was indeed traditional for the martially-schooled royals to study the sword above all else to invoke and honor Alberius’ image, even that generation of the family had recognized that not all were suited to the lifestyle. As such, their critique went mocked even among commoners, who cared little if a prince were swinging a sword or axe so long as they could protect them.
Though he was invested in the wellbeing of his family, Valyx was often away from Sol Alberia. Whether it was official missions or inspections of the various troops and guards scattered across the nation to ensure its security, his presence could almost be described as ‘rare’. Chelle’s regular trips between the capital and Chanzelia made her quite vexed with this disparate schedule. The princess attempted to rectify this whenever they both were in the capital, typically throwing at least a small feast in celebration. The city below caught on to the pattern, and, in a somewhat ironic twist, grew to celebrate with a bear hunt.
Valyx’s meanderings would not last forever, however. As he aged, he reluctantly adopted a more paperwork-heavy role in the military. This was believed to be due to arthritis, a condition his Father had also dealt with. Several strategy books and treatises would eventually result from this newly-inspired writing, many of which became foundational guides to later strategists. While his siblings welcomed his presence and company, Valyx himself seemed to struggle with the adjustment. For a man that had spent much of his life chasing fiends, training troops, and embarking on difficult treks through Alberia’s many mountains, a forced and more sedentary life was challenging.
The prince was the first of the otherwise ‘healthy’ members to pass away at the age of 86 in 369 of unknown causes. Some servants believed this death may have caused the remaining five to keep each other closer, now that they were starting to lose their stoutest and strongest members. His Gift saw structures built across the country to help fortify towns and cities from disaster, whether it took the form of walls for fiend-heavy areas to underground storage rooms for food to insulate against famine. These measures saved so many that he would eventually be viewed as a ‘protective spirit’ in Alberia, as people’s knowledge of his identity as a prince waned.
Beren
Prince Beren, fifth in the family, initially seemed to lack the direction that most of his siblings shared in life. While his elder brothers and sister all found and dedicated themselves on paths fairly early on, Prince Beren was not so quick to devote himself any which way. Observation from contemporary sources instead consistently note his habit to shadow other siblings in their lives during his adolescence and early adulthood.
Said sources also identify Prince Phares as the primary brother to whom Beren took interest in, a close relationship that stretched back many years. Whether it was aiding his brother in demonstrations, helping research topics, or taking notes as the second prince worked, Prince Beren initially showed no indication that he would do anything else in life.
However, in his mid- to late twenties, the prince began diverging from his assistant efforts. Prince Phares lamented the loss despite encouraging the move nonetheless, writings from him highly praising his younger brother’s efforts. By thirty, the prince had somewhat solidified a new role in the Kingdom of Alberia as a sort of envoy. By forty, he had assumed control of Alberia’s legendary Redcloak messengers, the prestigious royal messengers endowed with so many privileges and such high pay that commoners viewed it as an invitation to the nobility. Under his tenure, it is said that no critical message ever failed to reach its destination, a most remarkable feat.
Such accomplishment was achieved as a result of both diligent standards as well as the prince’s unique capabilities. Prince Beren atypically produced and gathered black mana in addition to the standard mana cycles all living creatures possess. While this provided its own health problems for the prince, including his notably stunted growth, he grew increasingly capable of controlling and harnessing the power black mana provided him. The most famous of his special capabilities was that of teleportation, allowing the prince to ferry urgent messages in the span of minutes instead of months to distant countries, without the risk of being compromised in the course of travel from misadventure or attack.
While Prince Beren eventually became something of a known and welcome figure among many countries with his joint messenger-ambassador duties, reactions were not universally positive. In particular, Svenitla took particular suspicion that the prince was actually a spy for Alberia. The claim may not have been wholly false, but the scope is debated to this day among historians. The Alberian public of the time looked to the eventual ‘innocent’ verdict in the subsequent international trial that took place in Grams as proof of their prince’s innocence against the accused espionage, however.
Svenitla, however, did not like this ruling, and after making some covert changes to its own legislation broadening the term ‘espionage’, brought its own national charges against Prince Beren. When its mages believed they had concocted a way to halt the prince from teleporting, the prince was arrested the next time he stepped foot into the chilled land, and subsequently found guilty. Political motivation for this move is largely understood by historians to be an attempt to both spite Alberia for its prosperity (and the prosperity nearby Glaithys received from alliances) as well as an attempt to bait Alberia into war or ransom negotiations.
King Galkin and his court’s scheming ultimately was for naught, as the very moment before Prince Beren’s subsequent execution, he teleported away ‘with nary a hint of trouble’ described by onlookers. The prince later reported that the reason he’d waited so long was because ‘he thought it would be funny to lead Svenitla’s nobles on for so long in their belief that they had gotten him’.
Relatedly, his personality was one described by those fond of him as lively and those who disliked him as capricious. While many feared for his mental development growing up because of his appearance, Prince Beren regularly proved he had the cognition capacity of his actual age; many would come to regret assuming otherwise. He simply happened to be among the more outwardly emotional members of his family, especially in the pursuit of amusement, a fact that lulled many into becoming off-guard. Fittingly, his interests largely revolved around his own enjoyment, as his collection of interesting baubles (usually in the realm of mana patterns, as he was sensitive to them) and occasionally mischievous tendencies attested to.
The prince never pacted, either, or even attempted to seek a pactwyrm. While pacting is seen almost as a sign of maturity among the royal family, Beren’s refusal to attempt pacting was its own display of maturity. As dragons are the embodiment of natural forces, they intrinsically abhor the unnatural. Black mana as an unnatural element is therefore repulsive, and could potentially even endanger a dragon in pact.
Aside from his siblings, the prince did not socialize much. Largely reclusive throughout his life (when not teleporting on messaging trips or wild inclinations to visit favored international eateries), Prince Beren never took a spouse or produced any children. He was content in the company of his family, and maintained generally positive relations with all throughout his life, -save for brief spots of discontent if a member disliked a prank. Noble ladies at the time oft complained in diaries about their parents’ prodding to attempt courting Beren in attempts to gain status, whom they tended to find disconcerting either for his looks or personality. Luckily, -both for Beren and any said noblewomens, neither King Aurelius nor King Leonidas were inclined to marry off even clearly ‘extraneous’ heirs as political bargaining chips.
Prince Beren was the second of his siblings to die in 354, another shockingly early death at 68 for the royal family, irregardless of the deleterious effects of black mana. Scholars of the royal family occasionally speculate that Beren’s death as another early, painful loss, contributed in at least some way to Phares’ demise six years later. While Prince Beren might not have been quite as famous or favored as some of his other siblings, he nevertheless left his own mark on the world. His Gift, a large park with several buildings for relaxation and entertainment, continues to be a highlight of the Alberian entertainment industry.
Emile
If there was one word to describe Prince Emile, it would be ‘contentious’. Growing up sixth scion and in the wake of many talented older siblings’ footsteps left the prince with an unquenchable desire to surpass others. Desire does not solely enable excellence, however, leaving a young Emile to struggle. Swordplay, alchemy, and magic were but a few of the disciplines the prince attempted to gain proficiency in to no success. Prince Emile was not completely bereft of skill, though, as shown by his capacity for fine arts. Creating anything from paintings to sculptures to plays, Emile eventually recognized his talent for what it was and focused his efforts on it.
While this might appear to be a final resolution to the prince’s problems, his realization did not halt his desire to be better than others. As a result, Emile, more than any other in his family, made decisions to make others displeased with him. Neither his siblings or the public at large were spared his temper. Historical records reveal his actual deeply-seated feelings of inferiority, but to the public his personality appeared one of great ego and haughtiness. One shopkeep of the time complained in a letter to family that ‘you’d think that the prince had single-handedly stopped an armada just by the way he walks’ and that ‘at least the rest of his family can at least put some money where their mouths [sic] is’. Both his siblings and close insiders would remark that some of Emile’s volatile moods would temper as he aged; Prince Phares privately speculated the likes of siblings Euden and Zethia to this end.
Furthering the complicated public opinion of him was the legitimately talented works of art that he produced (though they themselves varied highly in quality). His plays and musicals in particular were renowned as subversive masterpieces that challenged audiences’ learned shortcuts in typical theater to understanding characters, as is most evident in the musical “The Butcher”. The shock reveal that Prince Euden’s character was the titular ‘Butcher’ stunned audiences to the degree that theater’s antagonists would be influenced well over a century later.
When counting both the smash hits and flops, public sentiment eventually settled to a calm boil of interest. While the public flipped often in exact opinion of the prince as a person in the wake of his exploits, the general consensus was that he was an ‘eccentric genius’. Deciphering Emile’s reaction to these comments (and most anything) is complicated, as he often wrote contradicting opinions. In some journals, he seemingly loathes the notion of being considered ‘weird’ while in others he laments his status as a ‘misunderstood genius’ in the family and kingdom.
Emile never gained the right to join the line of succession, as, despite his best efforts, could never convince a dragon to pact. The closest he ever got was to a dragon named Lindworm, whose love of the arts and beautiful things naturally endeared her to Emile’s talent. Emile, however, offended the dragon when he contested her and claimed himself to be more beautiful than her; the prince was lucky to escape with his life. It wasn’t all bad - ‘The Taming of the Shrewd Dragon’ was an instant classic (if an apparently faulty recreation of Emile’s interactions with the dragon).
He also never had much success in the way of romance, either, despite his attempts. Whether highborn or lowborn, many suitors never bloomed into a permanent relationship. Some were reportedly broken off by Emile, others from a lady’s distaste, yet others ended for geopolitical reasons. All his efforts ended when King Leonidas personally forbade Emile from seeking a suitor after he unintentionally started the Two Hour War. It was to be the only ‘war’ that Alberia ever got involved in during King Leonidas’ reign.
Perhaps the singular most impactful creation was his Gift, a spectacularly large building in Sol Alberia devoted to the high arts. Emile had grown upset that commoners had limited chances to see the fine arts, and so dedicated the building with the sole mission of enabling this access. The place contains an art museum and sculpture hall, but its most famous centerpiece is the massive theater to host orchestral performances or plays. The citizens of today are unaware of this Gift’s connection to the prince, however, due to a mistaken translation in textbooks. While the building was originally ‘The Prince Emile’s Center For Fine Arts’, scholars regularly mistake the Middle Alberian of the prince’s name as ‘Emily’. As such, the famous ‘Emily Center’ of today in truth ties back to him.
Also notable about him was the accidental encouragement of miscellaneous luxury industries around the capital, including grape and wine production, mining, and parchment. The prince, more than any other sibling, patronized shops about the capital. With the high amount of rupies on the line, it became economical for local shops to cater to his taste in the hopes of snagging his coin and associated renown. In time, this attentiveness towards royal tastes leaked to the general public, which cultivated greater interest in previously ‘noble’ activities. When combined with the sixth prince’s marked distaste for most commoners, the change was somewhat ironic; the separation of the two broad classes had thinned. Some historians speculate that this was to be the first seed in a very slow-growing tree that marked the decline of the noble class’ prominence and privilege in Alberia.
Emile died in 374 at the age of 89, just shy of reaching 90, -an age that had gone unreached in the generation at the time. Best records at the time suggest a possible cardiovascular event as the cause, a thing that would not have been wholly implausible given the prince’s noted hatred of exercise. His exact words were not recorded, but were supposedly complaints about how he was feeling. Historians look to his legacy of the ‘black sheep’ of the generation as further proof of their exceptional success in guiding Alberia, for even he unintentionally made decisions with major positive impacts.
Nedrick
Prince Nedrick was the eldest of the youngest, so to speak. By all appearances, he seemed to appreciate this small grasp at power in the strict stratification that defined the royal family’s inner circles. Elder twin to Zethia (and sometimes speculated as the eldest triplet, counting Prince Euden, see page 920 for the ‘Twin vs. Triplet Conundrum’), Nedrick was born on the 22nd of the Month of the Rainwyrm in 287. The twins’ birth was seemingly celebrated widely in the capital, the birth of twins at the end of spring being interpreted as a sign of good harvests ahead.
As for the prince himself, Nedrick grew up relatively in the shadows of his elder siblings. While elders drew attention from either praiseworthy commendations or foolhardy exploits, -as was the case for Emile, Nedrick appeared average in comparison. Though he took pride in it, even his younger twin Zethia drew more acclaim. Nedrick was still competitive and eager to prove himself in his younger years. A surviving document detailing his academics from a tutor claim that the prince excelled in physical arts more so than literary ones, which is backed up by his noted preference to practice sword-fighting.
This dedication to the art would eventually become perhaps the defining aspect about him. While Prince Valyx more assumed a command position of increasingly larger groups of the military, Prince Nedrick had a more humble goal in mind: directing the security of not the nation, but of individuals. Namely, his family, youngers in particular. Princess Zethia as a royal and religious figure both attracted much attention and opportunity for criminals, especially as she herself favored a small guard. Nedrick also assessed Euden in particular need of protection, in his writings claiming that ‘Euden is hesitant overmuch to enact harm on those who would wrong him (and exclusively him), ergo I close the gap to ensure his survival for yet another day’.
Despite his occasional bluntness and willingness to speak his own mind, the prince kept strangely quiet overall, especially in the public sphere. He was oft likened to a silent shadow around his siblings, ready to strike from the shadows if something incensed him enough to intervene. While not formally inducted into sister Chelle’s order and web of clandestine activities, some speculate that he nevertheless cooperated with his eldest sister frequently enough. In general, though, Nedrick maintained good relations with his family, -though he seemingly idolized eldest Leonidas the most of his other siblings.
The prince also led an interesting life in regards to pacting. It is said that he once turned down the Waterwyrm’s offer for a pact in his youth, though it is ultimately unclear if this is fabrication made to make himself look better. He took a relaxed pace and attitude in regards to pacting in contrast with his personal fervor to better his sword skills. Eventually, Nedrick struck a pact with an adolescent dragon so young as to not even have decided his own name, though the prince would later give an appellation to the drake: Khonsu. When asked why the prince had not pacted with a matured dragon, he simply shrugged and said, “If I cannot accomplish a goal with my own two hands, I had already failed from the start. Reliance on my dragon to accomplish what I want is not my desire.” The pair’s relationship, when observed by outsiders, seemed one more of casual buddies or peers than the tangled-but-formal web most Alberian royals seem to maintain.
By far his biggest feat was the establishment of new alliances with the elusive Faerie Kingdom. While it was much whispered that his father Aurelius had connections to them, most viewed it as base rumors made to spread further stories of mysterious benefactors under Alberia’s influence. Nedrick, however, solidified those fears when he unintentionally became something of a special ambassador for the land. From there, details are muddy: some say that he picked up faerie magicks in the land in his occasional stays, while others speculated that the kingdom’s new openness was simply due to a personal friendship between its high leadership. Whatever happened in the lands, his occasional trips directly led to an influx of faeries exploring the continent in the following centuries.
In an almost overworn pattern for this generation of the Alberian Royal Family, Nedrick did not marry or have children. However, his was a more unique case than mere inability or complete uninterest in romance: many suggest the prince simply did not care to put forth the effort to seek a partner. One letter by him, in response to sister Chelle’s teasing, claims himself ‘too busy and too occupied with keeping the lot of you alive’ to bother with straying away long enough to date. The princess purportedly attempted to call his bluff in some way that left the prince unamused, but nothing would result from her effort.
Owing in part to his youth, Nedrick was the third last scion of the generation to perish. He lived until 380, when he was killed at 93 from shielding his sister from assassins. The action earned him sainthood in the Ilian Church for defending a former Auspex, and to this day, he is often looked to as a model of a knightly spirit. His Gift, much like himself, was quieter than some of his siblings’, being a set of greenhouses devoted to studying how to cultivate foodstuffs all year round. It would take quite some time, but the move would eventually produce several strains of blight- or weather-resistant crops.
Zethia
Princess Zethia’s birth soon hailed to the capital that this generation of dragonblood still had tricks up its sleeve. She was identified to have a truly impressive capacity for mana of all sorts; regular, healing, and holy mana were all in her repertoire. Her sheer power was reportedly so strong that it made most of her mana-abled siblings’ prowess pale by comparison. As such, King Aurelius permitted an atypical royal education for her that mixed both standard aspects as well as the Church’s teachings. High leadership of the Church at the time expressed hope that this was to be a new page for both entities’ relationship at the same time others feared the complications of a princess so involved in the Ilian clergy.
Her actual tenure as Auspex gave no credence to any such fear, -or hope, for that matter. Neatly forfeiting her right to join the right of succession to sidestep conflicts of interest, Zethia balanced her duties as Auspex and Princess impressively. In a seemingly willful decision, she declined involving herself in much politics of either faction. In a sense, it was practically a willful adoption of a near-figurehead status. Private writings suggest that Zethia did not wish to complicate the running of church or state and instead favored becoming a symbol of hope for the people. Her wish became reality: between her humble service to the people and kind nature, people looked to her as an embodiment of a bright future.
Often described as quiet and soft-spoken, the princess served as a notable contrast to her more effusive siblings. This contrast furthermore made her a noted negotiator and peacekeeper amid the rare arguments they had. Zethia’s quiet demeanor was not to be mistaken for cowardice or apathy, however; she championed several causes throughout her life. For one, many historians liken her efforts to better children’s welfare to her Father, who had also made it a noted goal of his reign. She was also active in advancing the use and practice of healing magic, relieving poverty, and the preservation of nature. As this often overlapped with her younger brother’s work, the two often worked together.
Zethia’s Gift was uniquely not placed within Alberia’s territory; it instead lies in Grams. Some citizens initially took offense at the thought of a Gift ‘belonging’ to another nation, but this notion eventually simmered down. The Peace Garden she created, after all, served as a concrete investment and symbol of new ties between many countries and groups. Zethia’s long work as both Auspex and princess had stoked new allegiances across the continent. The Auspex of the Northern Church, Origa, for one, repaid the gift with a matching edifice in Alberia.
Her Garden was far from a mere symbol, too, with a breathtakingly large array of botanicals from across the continent and beyond. Encompassing anything from elusive sylvan herbs to far-flung Taiwuan trees, the Peace Garden enabled the production of new herbs and new knowledge about the cultivation of these plants.
Approximately halfway through her life, the princess was one of the only members of her generation to ‘retire’ in any sense. Stepping down from her Auspex role proved something of a shock the continent over, as many were anticipating her steady presence for decades more. Her reasons for doing so are unclear and numerous; some speculate that she merely wished to enjoy her remaining years in peace as others insiders believe she was attempting to set a good example against those clinging to power. Princess Zethia was not idle in the latter half of her life even so, as she increasingly spent her time instructing others in her brother’s Panacea Program and more typical healing classes both.
As an Auspex, the princess never sought a spouse. Whilst not wholly forbidden, Zethia seemed dedicated to upholding the Ilian Church’s tenets for its leaders. Espousing a spouse was one aspect, yes, but it is often recorded that the princess often abstained from even things as basic as shoes to exemplify humility. Though some siblings occasionally chided her with her insistence to ‘formalities’ out of concern for her safety or their royal dignity, she abided by them. In the eternal rise and fall of fashion trends among nobility and royalty, some later generations would adopt a more minimalist approach to their appearance to channel her image of a relatable figure.
Zethia was the last of the generation to perish, at an impressive 100 years, in 387. The princess herself did not appear to be pleased by this; after her sister’s demise some three years earlier, she recused herself entirely. No matter how much her nieces, nephews, or further relatives attempted, her room was one not often exited. What resulted from this self-imposed isolation were nine cross-stitched artworks of her and her siblings, likely intended as reflections of them throughout their lives to remember them. These works unintentionally provided artists and historians alike with a valuable glimpse of the generation’s appearance, especially in the days before Chelle’s ‘instance-drawer’.
Uniquely among the family, the Auspex-princess has many tales around her supposed haunting about various locations for various reasons. Some claim she haunts the royal quarters in search of her lost family, others claim her spirit instead haunted the cemetery her remains were relocated to some centuries after her death.
Euden
Prince Euden often was referred to by monikers instead of by name, historians finding common references to him as ‘the Ghost Prince’. His story, while undoubtedly one of much intrigue, remains largely unknown to this day. Unexpectedly hailed by King Aurelius as the ninth scion, the prince was already an adolescent when introduced to the public. Despite the obvious presumption of being a bastard or even an adoptee, the Crown maintained that he was full-blooded. While the prince’s shapeshifting ability proved him blooded with major dragonblood (though even this has not stopped speculation, see 974 for the ‘Dragonblood Conferment Conspiracy’), the absolute truth of his heritage never emerged.
The reason the Crown provided for his sudden appearance and total-omnitance before his introduction was that the prince was born sickly and raised away from the capital. King Aurelius, wishing for the boy to live as recuperative a life as possible, secreted him away so that he could escape the expectations that would otherwise be imposed upon him in the capital. With his at least partial recovery, however, he was moved to be integrated with the rest of his family in Sol Alberia. With no evidence for or against, the ultimate truth is currently indeterminate.
Regardless of his past, however, the prince’s life after his tumultuous introduction was similarly marked by challenges to his well-being. While the royal family eventually claimed that Euden did not have wyrmscale, the technicolor scales he sprouted throughout his life made many skeptical. Though the prince did seemingly struggle with occasional bouts of illness, injury, or otherwise infirmity across his life, he lived far beyond what was possible for a non-cured case of wyrmscale.
Despite whatever exact challenges plagued his health, Prince Euden seemed to live a good life. Relative to his siblings, he was very relaxed in the sphere of governance, only eventually taking on an official role as a head of public projects and disaster response. Whether he was using his skills as a healer, warrior, or leader, the prince’s direct intervention in disasters in place of clerical duties earned him great respect. In addition, Prince Euden often cooperated with siblings on public works. It is said that he personally surveyed people and areas to discover problems or needs. This further helped foster Alberia’s prosperity through the addition of aqueducts, new farming tools, and more.
Unofficially, he also served as a sort of advisor to all his siblings and diplomat between the Kingdom and any dragons. Negotiations were occasionally needed to survey an area claimed by a dragon or soothe an angered one, and the prince proved effective in this job. On the whole, though, Euden notably worked for fewer hours than his siblings, a thing that inspired some nobility to accuse him of laziness. These allegations were vehemently dismissed as ‘hogwash of the highest order’ from his relatives.
This free time allowed the prince to devote attention to the arts. Often collaborating with his elder brother Emile, Euden became known as a skilled writer, artist, and even songwriter for his brother’s musicals… when he wasn’t writing in veritable tongue. ‘Tongue’ in this case refers to Draconic, a language few understand on any practical level even amongst dragons. The prince was notably skilled in its usage, and claimed he used it to force the audience to pay attention to the music over listening for lyrics.
In truth, his lyrics were far from castaway elements, instead complicated but deliberate pictures with so much context missing that each piece was not unlike a puzzle. Draconic scholars debate to this day about what Prince Euden was intending in a piece. The many questions raised in these debates are not even ones his siblings and their descendants can fully answer, so difficult are his works to translate and understand.
Although Euden was regarded kindly, the curiosities surrounding the prince never dimmed, people always eager to learn more of the enigmatic man. One of the most popular sources of intrigue and gossip was the near-omnipresent scarring of his form. Traditionally, the royal family is expected to maintain as perfect an appearance as is possible, with great effort being put forth to minimize or eliminate any blemish. While commoners seemed to approach the matter with one of pity or curiosity about him, the nobility of the time expressed scorn and concern about what it supposedly said about Prince Euden’s character.
One surviving formal complaint by Count Miroy argued, “...Their Most Esteemed Royal Family of our Glorious Nation,” he wrote, in one section, “...is the very essence of our society and the State, and as such demands a certain quality of form, mind, and deed. I am deeply concerned about the degree to which a particular novel prince has been flaunting this premise and what it suggests about our glorious Alberia. Alberia yet stands strong, ergo, a scion presenting as though the country were a war-torn wasteland is improper to the extreme. That being said, it is of my humble opinion that this should be redressed by either shrouding the aforementioned incongruities with raiments or artistry.”
The sole reason this sort of otherwise petty squabbling survived the era was the shockingly vicious response by the rest of the royal family. Such complaints are typically kept to themselves at all costs in order to protect the images of all involved. That makes the reply the former Count received all the more shocking: the widespread publication of said complaints and the family’s corresponding biting-but-polite retort. The move galvanized the public against him to the degree it gave the family just cause enough to strip him of his title, -likely their true aim all along. It also sent a clear message to any who yet doubted Euden’s integration within the family. But what of the actual truth to the mysterious marks in the mystery prince’s mysterious past?
The most prominent theorists suggest that the late prince’s troubles ran deeper than publicly acknowledged by the family, and that the wounds were self-inflicted, which would be a secret of the utmost import among the family. An additional theory speculates maltreatment at whatever location the prince spent his formative years, a thing that then typically is used to explain the prince’s withdrawn personality. The last theory posits that the prince simply earned his marks from fiend-hunting excursions and other acts of service for the people, since he appeared to be as capable or greater a combatant compared to his highly-skilled elders. His sword skills were largely unknown by the populace, though, as the prince instead favored a short staff used for healing. Though it concealed a hidden sword, few saw this feature of it in action, leading to a more harmless public perception than actuality.
Unless more evidence emerges, it is likely the truth of the matter is lost to the ages. Regardless, they spoke to his enduring spirit and hidden depths amid his more mild presentation. Those familiar to him overwhelmingly framed him as among the most gentle and easygoing of the family, though his broader mood oft was melancholic. Doting and doted on among his siblings, he largely remained in the capital when not on expeditions, vacations, or other work. Though he purportedly enjoyed select company, Prince Euden lived an overall private life. He seemed content being among his family and the slew of dogs he kept throughout his life. The dogs were supposedly only intended as companionship, but secret missives between his siblings revealed that they were covertly trained as guard dogs.
Tragically, his life was by far the shortest between his siblings. At 52 or 53, he was beset by an infirmity that had not seen before or since, and began a ‘much too-fast and too-slow spiral’ to the grave, per his sister Zethia, dying at 55 in 342 accompanied by all his siblings save King Leonidas. The King had been in the capital whilst his siblings traveled to one of the Founder King’s former strongholds in the Mistholt for reasons unknown.
There, he perished and was buried with little fanfare, though the rites that occurred afterwards in the capital were anything but ‘small’. It is unknown why the family made the trip with the prince apparently so close to death, though most believe an explanation lies in the fact that his pactwyrm, the legendary Windwyrm Midgardsormr, is reported to den there. Even so, many question why the dragon did not instead go to lengths to visit Euden, as the two were purportedly incredibly close, and insist that there must be another explanation.
Said sizable portion of the public believe that he was murdered for some reason, finding the death too convenient, but there is little to no evidence of this claim. Indeed, the few servants of the time willing to comment more indicate a deep, almost reverential care expressed by all present. Some instead believe that his death was actually a mercy kill away from the noise and intrusion of the capital where his death would be doggedly investigated, but until more information surfaces, these narratives will remain wild speculation (see ‘the Murder Conspiracy' starting on page 950 for details and discussion of these theories).
As with many of his siblings, he never married or produced any known heirs. His grave is similarly unknown to all save the royal family itself, though many intrepid explorers attempt to find it each year by searching in and around the Mistholt. So far, however, the Mistholt has kept him close, and has refused to dispel the fog surrounding the situation. When the hunt for the grave first became known, a mysterious statue of him appeared soon after. On its front placard, eight different but largely fine hands wrote one sentence: ‘Let Him Rest’. On the back lies another short poem that serves as further evidence of the royal family’s likely involvement in the monument:
Last to come and first to go,
Where soul flies none may know,
Though death dealt its ruthless blow,
Still his light shall never go.
Despite never having reached sixty, the traditional age to bestow the Kingdom with a Gift to define a scion’s desired legacy, most consider the durable benefits he implemented throughout his career as a Gift in its own right.