Cieoren - Act One

Act One: The One Truth

From the dawn of existence all beings have been desperate in their search for their purpose in life, why were we forced into this life in which we are soon to fade away? What is the defining aspect that separates people from each other besides the colour and appearance of our outer shells?  From the moment my mother and father joined together in their selfish desires, I was cursed to enter this disgusting world as nothing but an outcast, as a half; A Serethian royal with dirty Phetan blood. Surely my late grandfather would be turning in his grave at the mere thought of his prestigious only son Jestryn R'tear Esthien committing such an act with a filthy Phetan woman. Since history began to write Serethe had been at war with the opposing continent, Phetos, but when my Father took to the throne that had changed, or at least only in law it changed. The people's minds were still small, the concept of accepting people different from themselves was too much for them to bare and to this day continue to frown upon the Phetan's trying to live out their pathetic lives in Serethe. The same can be said of their views of me although I am the princess of this shameful kingdom, I saw the way they look upon me, and so I know. My luscious harlequin green hair that curled so beautifully towards its ends and matched my wide chartreuse-coloured eyes perfectly. They were a bold contrast to my pale-white skin and dainty soft peach lips that had a natural gloss like shine to them and my cheekbones were defined just as my mother's was. I had a great sense of pride in my appearance, in the beauty I had inherited from my miss-matched parents. The servants at the castle often referred to me as a doll, yet I can assure you I am not hollow on the inside. I may have had the royal Serethian hair and eye colour but the beauty I had was often met with scornful eyes because of my heavy Phetan-like features. This was the life I had to lead, a miserable lonely life that was filled with the hatred of both Serethians and Phetans; purely because I was whole of neither.

The date was Aste 13th Cearisen 817. Jestryn, my father, was silently handling business as usual, his concentration deep within the paperwork in front of him. The library section of the castle was where my father spent most of his long days and restless nights, hurled up over important-looking documents written in foreign languages that I could not understand. The library was an adequate sized- room decked out in a golden and sienna colour theme that screamed royalty when you first stepped in, yet the bookshelves occupied most of the room, they always looked messy in contrast to the rest of the room and towered to the ceiling on each side, it always made me feel so dizzy. My father's desk was located in the centre and despite being a rather large desk it was usually just covered in books or documents. His chair was always sat firmly behind the desk; it was an elegant and royal looking chair that wasn't particularly comfortable. Sat in front of the desk was what I call the visitor's chair. The person that would sit at that chair was purely there to conduct business with my father, they were not residents like my father and myself; it was considerably less elegant than my father's chair yet significantly more comfortable.  Myself, I always sat at the right side of my father's dark wood desk peering over the piles of books that were towered up almost like a fort around his work. Watching my father was a hobby of mine I suppose, it would always make me wonder if I could dedicate myself to the kingdom the way he does. We had such different mind sets that it was almost frightening. I was such a selfish child that viewed this world and existence in such a negative light, yet he was a caring man that believed in a world that was perfect. Perhaps his views were painted only due to his profound adoration for my foolish mother but even she was smart enough to disappear from this place. As if it pierced the silence that had surrounded us my father spoke,
"Are you alright, Cieoren?" his sudden inquisition surprised me, I had hoped if I sat there silently for long enough he would soon forget all about my lurking presence like normal. Talking was not something I particularly enjoyed and wanted to avoid, even with my beloved father.
"Yes, papa." My short and simple answer shot back at my father and I could tell by his facial expression that he too had no words to say however he still managed to improvise something,
"How are you fairing with your education?" He mundanely asked me raising his hand to his chin and feigned his interest, he knew of my intellect but he also knew of the anti-social tendencies which made me strangely adored but yet hated by my peers all at the same time.
"Classes have been progressing well; Master Falkure has been most kind to me."  As I spoke I averted my eyes away from my father's expectant glare.
"I am pleased" he smiled weakly and focused his eyes back to the important paperwork before him which signalled to me that he was done with the conversation. I found myself examining his tired emerald-like eyes and wondering what emotions filled them when he was my age, rumours I had overheard from around the castle state that he was once a rebellious man that had such a strong and confident presence. Hard to believe such a rumour could be true when the man before me was such a gentle and loving soul dedicated solely to his kingdom. It seems the years must have had a harsh effect on him. Too busy in my thoughts I had not noticed a soft sigh escape from my peach lips, which quickly prompted my father's dutiful yet preachy response
"A young lady should not be trapped in a castle all day, Cieoren" When I heard his words a scowled expression covered my face yet it remained unseen as my father's eyes remained on his work. My father had always given me the key to my own freedom, and due to that regardless of being a princess I could roam the city of Lumier, Serethe's capital, as I pleased without a care. A feat that my father was never given permission to do when he was a teenager, I believe he once told me he was not even allowed to leave the surrounding cold walls of this castle, how lucky he was. Although my father had granted me my freedom, I did not want it; the thought of leaving the security of my castle made me sick to my stomach. Yes, these walls, however cold they may be, were like my shield that always protected me from the harsh words and disgusted glares of the Serethian eyes.  As long as I could lock myself away from the world outside, I knew I could remain happy. That was my only truth.
"Yes papa. I understand… but I do not fare well outside the castle walls." I honestly replied, hoping my honesty would keep me safe from my father's expectations, however he shot back,
"Nonsense, Cieoren" he spoke as he lifted his arm, covering my cheek gently with his right hand, the same way he always would to reassure me since I was a child. I leaned my head against his comforting hand before he continued "You are the heir to the throne of Serethe. It will not be too long before you are to take my place. You must make your presence known"
"And if my presence is not wanted?" I questioned, the anxiety I felt was clearly evident in the tone of my voice, yet my father just replied with his usual soft gentle smile then in an instance he had pulled himself away from his chair, grabbed a few of the documents from his desk and removed the palm of his hand from my cheek's embrace. He took a few silent steps towards the door and cocked his head to the side, not turning back to face me, and almost in a whisper he spoke with a harsh but somehow caring tone
"You make your presence wanted." The words my father left me with as he exited the study confused me, but at the same time filled me with an undeniable anger. Had I not been attempting to do just that since I was born into this miserable world?! Regardless of my attempts I am still hated by those around me. The more I seem to try, the more I lose focus of what I'm doing. It is true that I had given up trying to make my presence wanted so much as three whole years, but you would too, would you not?  Despite my anger after a few moments of deep thought I was consumed by mixture of feelings that formed itself into an uncertainty that stirred within me.

Lifelessly my head was rested against the desk with my arm underneath to cushion my head from the cold wooden surface; after his departure I decided to sit in my father's regal chair. The silence was tranquil and filled the room with a peaceful ambiance that was vacant from when my father was the room. My eyes closed and I soon began to reminisce of my mother. How long had it been now since she had gone? I had lost count of the years yet I could still fondly remember her warm smile and the way she used to make father glisten with youthfulness.  The years my mother was around were the happiest I had ever been but she snatched away the happiness from me and my father when she disappeared. I wished so desperately that I could hate her just so that I could justify the way I have turned out, but no matter how I try all that I am left with is the pain of this everlasting bond.
The silence paused for a moment and was replaced by the sound of strong footsteps that stopped at the doorway, my head lifted up and I glared over at the man standing by the frame of the opened library door. After seeing me the man cracked a smirk on his face and leaned against the frame of the door casually. The man must have been about mid-twenties and held himself confidently and immediately I could tell he was a Serethian man, probably a noble from the first quarter of Lumier. He had shoulder-length golden hair that swayed precisely with his movements, his eyes were hidden behind the thin layered stylish glasses that he wore but with the right lighting you could just catch a glimpse of his violet eyes that held such mystery within them. The man wore a formal white shirt with a sienna-brown waistcoat that had a fancy silver chain attached, it obviously lead to a pocket watch that most nobles loved to carry around but it was nothing more than a fashion accessory for the rich. To put it bluntly he was rather handsome.
"Can I help you sir?" I suddenly switched into a professional manner, sat straight and held my head up confidently, I felt like a natural when it came to putting on my princess persona.
"That beautiful green hair… You must be Cieoren." He flirtingly chuckled slowly to himself as he made his way over to the visitor's chair. My eyes were firmly glued on the man as I studied him; he took a seat and quickly made himself at home and it seemed as if he was trying to sum me up.
"Indeed, that is correct. And how may I address you?" I politely inquired placing my finger to my lip and tilting my head slightly to the side.  A childlike habit of mine.
"My name is Aren Vicent; I am an aristocrat from Lumier's first quarter" Aren replied. I could not help to smirk to myself; I had managed to perfectly figure him out just by looking at him.  "I am to meet with His Majesty; I have business to discuss with him. The king usually resides in this room, so I am pleasantly surprised to finally meet the elusive little princess instead." He smiled, obviously talking down to me.
"My father is incredibly busy. You cannot disturb him right now" I replied shortly ignoring his statement, feeling increasingly annoyed at his confidence now. Aren leaned back in his chair and raised his index finger to the middle of his glasses and adjusted them for a moment as if thinking of a solution before replying,
"Very well, I wish I had more time to chat with you" pulling the pocket watch out of his waistcoat and briefly glancing at the time displayed on the expensive looking silver watch. "But I have other business I need to attend to. May the goddess bless you, be well young princess." He stood up and bowed his head bringing his right hand up to his left shoulder and crossing his index and ring finger, it was a symbol of respect and good fortune in the Serethian religion.
"May the goddess bless you." I forced a reply to be polite and mimicked the symbol. Aren did not hang around for long and soon confidently strolled out the library leaving me alone once more with my thoughts but this time pondering what sort of business a man like that would have with my father. Never-the-less the man had left a lasting impression on me, I had noticed that he never once looked at me in disgust like all the others did but perhaps he was not aware of my half-Phetan origins. He did rather seem like the ignorant and oblivious kind of man, yet this feeling was strange. I was envious of this man for his confidence. If I had that confidence could I make my presence wanted, could I be happy?