Written By Dio
Oct. 31, 2020, 12:53 p.m.(4/20/1014 AR)
Relationship Note on Imogene
I thought I had made my last voyage. Perhaps I wished it so, in the vain hope that I might see you again.
Written By Ophira
May 3, 2020, 12:50 a.m.(3/21/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Imogene
There was not enough time for me to get to know you as well as I'd have liked but the few images of you were always glittering and gleaming. You were a noble creature with a fiery spirit that was not easily fizzled, which of course is why you were also the best part of my brother though I'm sure he'd admit to you being all the best parts of him.
You will not be forgotten but you will be missed very dearly by all those who were deeply lucky to know you.
You will not be forgotten but you will be missed very dearly by all those who were deeply lucky to know you.
Written By Dio
April 30, 2020, 5:10 p.m.(3/16/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Imogene
Never have I shed tears for any action I've taken, no matter who suffered for it. Life is a brief season, and the Seraceni must take everything before returning to the Wheel. But I took you from a safe place, a place where you might've found happiness with another, where you still might have occasion to hug your old, care-worn doll, Ser Mieu-Mieu, the knight-errant of Whiskershire when you thought no one was looking, or have touched keys of the clavichord to spread your enchanting music through a parlor.
Of all the treasure I've seen, none sparkled so brightly as your indigo eyes. Your manners were perfect, and your wit as sharp as any saber or cutting gale. Nothing brought me greater joy than to see you smile, those few times you let down your guard.
So much adventure still awaited us, Beloved. So many places to see, things to learn, and people to meet. My great dream was to see you forever lifted above the petty condescension of those who failed to see your immeasurable worth. Gods, I would give anything to weave that dream into a reality, and see the look on your family's faces when the king himself named you Countess of the Duchy of Ischia, Duchess Imogene Seraceni.
I have lusted after adventure all my life, as if it alone could keep me from drowning. Yet what would I not give to have spent my life in quiet retirement at your side, Imogene? For what lands could have held any mysteries more spellbinding than those of your heart and mind? What treasure could ever have equaled your friendship and love?
You have voyaged beyond my means to reach you for a time - perhaps for all time. I cannot tell if you ever loved me, but I am absolutely certain that I loved you. Fair winds, Imogene Seraceni. May the gods welcome you in Elysia, or may your next turn of the Wheel be filled with beautiful music and a loving family.
Of all the treasure I've seen, none sparkled so brightly as your indigo eyes. Your manners were perfect, and your wit as sharp as any saber or cutting gale. Nothing brought me greater joy than to see you smile, those few times you let down your guard.
So much adventure still awaited us, Beloved. So many places to see, things to learn, and people to meet. My great dream was to see you forever lifted above the petty condescension of those who failed to see your immeasurable worth. Gods, I would give anything to weave that dream into a reality, and see the look on your family's faces when the king himself named you Countess of the Duchy of Ischia, Duchess Imogene Seraceni.
I have lusted after adventure all my life, as if it alone could keep me from drowning. Yet what would I not give to have spent my life in quiet retirement at your side, Imogene? For what lands could have held any mysteries more spellbinding than those of your heart and mind? What treasure could ever have equaled your friendship and love?
You have voyaged beyond my means to reach you for a time - perhaps for all time. I cannot tell if you ever loved me, but I am absolutely certain that I loved you. Fair winds, Imogene Seraceni. May the gods welcome you in Elysia, or may your next turn of the Wheel be filled with beautiful music and a loving family.
Written By Dio
Dec. 18, 2019, 12:08 a.m.(5/23/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Imogene
Imogene Seraceni, Countess of the March of Ischia - formerly of House Blanchard, known for playing the clavichord and her love of floral patterns - shouted amid a slave rebellion in the Saffron Chain, "death to slavers," and "death before slavery."
At least, I think that's what she yelled. I'd lost a lot of blood.
Clearly, I married the right woman.
At least, I think that's what she yelled. I'd lost a lot of blood.
Clearly, I married the right woman.
Written By Dio
Nov. 17, 2019, 12:42 a.m.(3/17/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Imogene
Souls with secrets cannot love deeply. For what is love but trust and intimacy? One cannot truly love what one does not truly know. The secret comes to take their places. The keeper can only trust that the secret must remain a secret, and the intimacy they experience is in contemplating the secret.
When I was ashore in Setarco, my mates while deep in our cups with some favorable companionship were asked why commoners of Pravus ever marry. Niccolo, a particularly sensitive if cock-eyed and snaggle-toothed young man spoke of 'the thunderbolt' - the striking bond that happens maybe once in a lifetime, when you see a soul that you know belongs with your own - a not uncommon myth in the lands of steel and silk, cast as a net with a wink by older folk fishing for a bedmate. I laughed. Aye, thunderbolts must strike often in Ischia, I told them. I have more siblings than I'll ever know.
Once I saw a young woman from Meadowleigh, visiting the brother of her close friend. There was a... scent, might've been, mixing with the salt air blowing in from the hills of Ischia, a scent of sorrow. And as she walked with her friend, she knelt, and plucked from a bush a spiraling white and gold plumeria. She smiled, and there was a gleam of joy in her eyes all mixed with that aura of sorrow. I'll join the Prophet before I admit Niccolo wiser than myself, no matter how much I'd had to drink. But as for the secret, I wrapped it in chains and cast it overboard, and down it sank to the Abyss, for it lost its hold on me when I saw the woman in that flash of light.
When I was ashore in Setarco, my mates while deep in our cups with some favorable companionship were asked why commoners of Pravus ever marry. Niccolo, a particularly sensitive if cock-eyed and snaggle-toothed young man spoke of 'the thunderbolt' - the striking bond that happens maybe once in a lifetime, when you see a soul that you know belongs with your own - a not uncommon myth in the lands of steel and silk, cast as a net with a wink by older folk fishing for a bedmate. I laughed. Aye, thunderbolts must strike often in Ischia, I told them. I have more siblings than I'll ever know.
Once I saw a young woman from Meadowleigh, visiting the brother of her close friend. There was a... scent, might've been, mixing with the salt air blowing in from the hills of Ischia, a scent of sorrow. And as she walked with her friend, she knelt, and plucked from a bush a spiraling white and gold plumeria. She smiled, and there was a gleam of joy in her eyes all mixed with that aura of sorrow. I'll join the Prophet before I admit Niccolo wiser than myself, no matter how much I'd had to drink. But as for the secret, I wrapped it in chains and cast it overboard, and down it sank to the Abyss, for it lost its hold on me when I saw the woman in that flash of light.
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