[Fire Emblem] [Drabble 10] Tarnish
Jan. 21st, 2009 02:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreTarnish
Author: Amber Michelle
Challenge: 10 – change
Word Count: 500
Game: Radiant Dawn
Warnings: spoilers for the end of RD. Pretentious and overly dramatic.
I wanted to finish this before working on the Chronicle, but it should probably sit a day or two before I post it to the comm, just in case there are some glaring problems.
Cross-posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fe_drabble.
.................................................
Sanaki favored soft light after the war, in red or green, sometimes blue, cast through stained glass chambers. The crystal lamps and their white illumination were removed from the palace and her tableware became gold not because the reduction in senatorial salaries left more money in the treasury, but because she hated silver. She looked in the mirror and promised to cut her hair and burn the length when the color streaked with gray. A good empress had no need of beauty.
The silence from the chairs formerly occupied by the senior senators rang in her ears. The space to the right of her throne was empty. Her name moved up on every document, her hand and seal alone beneath the stipulations of each contract and the words hereby authorized by the signature(s) of
--one Sanaki Kirsch Altina, Apostle, sole sovereign power of the Empire of Begnion. Signed in the year of the goddess 649.
History deposed the senate, made of their punishment a myth to frighten politicians. Sanaki kept council with herself. She had no need of another to share the burden. She was tarnished, not even gold but brass, yet the lesser metal was stronger, firmer than the prettier varieties. She was born a queen, and queens carried the weight of their countries alone. She wanted to keep her silence, show her mettle.
After months of resistance she made the sacrifice. She read petitions to fill the position of Prime Minister, evaluated the game pieces: all loyal veterans of the war and the uprising against the senate, all names she knew - or thought she did. She signed her name top center of the empty space at the bottom of her decree naming the new official, effective immediately, denying herself the luxury of another day staring at the vacant square of rug, another week. Another name appeared on her official documents. Hers graced the bottom, above the filigree border of her stationary painted in gold, though it dried on the cream parchment a less precious color, impure. She was alone there, the curls of her letters a delicate imitation of a script etched into her memory like acid on velvet.
Sanaki Kirsch Altina, Empress of Begnion, 650.
Her seal was gilded jade. Like blood its mark glistened on the paper, and dried garnet. They were symbols of power, and they were hers. She held them close as she once treasured gifts of silver and gold jewelry, and the tapestry above the hearth woven in memory of old chivalric stories.
Loyalty. Beside justice, it was all an empress should ever desire - her first lesson, shaped by a deceptive tongue. It was the only true thing he ever said, and Sanaki held that closer than gold. She had no need of pretty myths. At least justice had proven possible. Bloody, perhaps tarnished - but it was hers.
................................................
Edited 01.23.09 at 3:20am, and I guess you can call it 'draft two.'
Author: Amber Michelle
Challenge: 10 – change
Word Count: 500
Game: Radiant Dawn
Warnings: spoilers for the end of RD. Pretentious and overly dramatic.
I wanted to finish this before working on the Chronicle, but it should probably sit a day or two before I post it to the comm, just in case there are some glaring problems.
Cross-posted at
fe_drabble..................................................
Sanaki favored soft light after the war, in red or green, sometimes blue, cast through stained glass chambers. The crystal lamps and their white illumination were removed from the palace and her tableware became gold not because the reduction in senatorial salaries left more money in the treasury, but because she hated silver. She looked in the mirror and promised to cut her hair and burn the length when the color streaked with gray. A good empress had no need of beauty.
The silence from the chairs formerly occupied by the senior senators rang in her ears. The space to the right of her throne was empty. Her name moved up on every document, her hand and seal alone beneath the stipulations of each contract and the words hereby authorized by the signature(s) of
--one Sanaki Kirsch Altina, Apostle, sole sovereign power of the Empire of Begnion. Signed in the year of the goddess 649.
History deposed the senate, made of their punishment a myth to frighten politicians. Sanaki kept council with herself. She had no need of another to share the burden. She was tarnished, not even gold but brass, yet the lesser metal was stronger, firmer than the prettier varieties. She was born a queen, and queens carried the weight of their countries alone. She wanted to keep her silence, show her mettle.
After months of resistance she made the sacrifice. She read petitions to fill the position of Prime Minister, evaluated the game pieces: all loyal veterans of the war and the uprising against the senate, all names she knew - or thought she did. She signed her name top center of the empty space at the bottom of her decree naming the new official, effective immediately, denying herself the luxury of another day staring at the vacant square of rug, another week. Another name appeared on her official documents. Hers graced the bottom, above the filigree border of her stationary painted in gold, though it dried on the cream parchment a less precious color, impure. She was alone there, the curls of her letters a delicate imitation of a script etched into her memory like acid on velvet.
Sanaki Kirsch Altina, Empress of Begnion, 650.
Her seal was gilded jade. Like blood its mark glistened on the paper, and dried garnet. They were symbols of power, and they were hers. She held them close as she once treasured gifts of silver and gold jewelry, and the tapestry above the hearth woven in memory of old chivalric stories.
Loyalty. Beside justice, it was all an empress should ever desire - her first lesson, shaped by a deceptive tongue. It was the only true thing he ever said, and Sanaki held that closer than gold. She had no need of pretty myths. At least justice had proven possible. Bloody, perhaps tarnished - but it was hers.
................................................
Edited 01.23.09 at 3:20am, and I guess you can call it 'draft two.'