I feel I should probably mention, there are a few instances of innuendo, but only to the extent that it may be rated PG. But if this is the kind of thing that might offend you, well, you probably shouldn't even be on the internet.
You may want to refresh your memory with this topic and this topic (or, if you've never read them, I suggest doing so) before continuing, particularly the bit of narrative at the bottom of the second link there, in Rafel's backstory. Yes, I wrote that over a year ago; yes, I have been planning this for at least that long.
I hope you've all had a merry Christmas, mine unfortunately started out with a rather sour event which has left a bitter taste in my mouth, so to speak, throughout, but I suppose it hasn't been terrible. Left me a bit unmotivated, too, so this might come out slower than I originally planned, but we'll see. Anyway, enough with the chat, I give you the nearly-five-page resolution of the previous mystery -slash- opening of my brand new character, Analis. Which is pronounced 'ah-nah-LEES,' just so you can get in the hang of reading the name properly.
BAM. NOBODY EXPECTED THAT.It was a rainy evening, one week after Gerk’s death, when Rafel sat alone in the home he had shared with Gerk in Anebati. He should have been in Shelsa, attending to his new duties as Chief Justice, or at least doing something about the power vacuum that was currently the throne of Toketi. Another week or so and fighting might actually break out. He was glad that he was still the head of the military, or he wouldn’t have any control. But, in any case, Rafel just needed some time alone, to think. He was sad, for sure, but he wasn’t grieving. He’d already passed that stage. He just needed time to think. Apparently thinking was a luxury when you had as much to do as Gerk once had. Rafel wondered how Gerk had managed it.
He was thinking about his own mortality again. He still retreated to the vault every week to halt his aging, but Gerk’s death had made him once again consider if it was the right thing to do. Gerk had never stopped him from it. But did that make it right? He was already over fifty years old, and yet didn’t look or feel a day over thirty.
But, more than anything else, he thought about Gerk’s final words. Who was ‘her,’ and, more importantly, where was she? Rafel could only hope that she was all that Gerk must have thought she was, because it would take something close to a miracle to keep the Tokish government from falling apart.
Rafel’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He was not surprised to have a visitor; the People of the Jookoo had been stopping by to talk to him and offer their condolences all week. But he was surprised that somebody had come in the rain. Not having technology such as umbrellas, most Jookooians tended to stay indoors during the rain. But, nevertheless, he rose and went to open the door.
Outside stood a young woman whom Rafel did not recognize, though that was hardly surprising. Anebati was a constantly growing community, and it was difficult to keep track of all the members. The first thing that struck Rafel about this woman was her bright blue eyes, the flickering candlelight from behind him glinting off of them, making them look like running water. Her skin was fair, and she wore a simple yet elegant blue gown, which looked to Rafel as if it were made of silk. The only thing keeping her dry was a blue hooded cowl she wore over her head, and Rafel could see strands of golden hair underneath the hood.
“I am sorry,” she said timidly, “But… may I come in? It is very… wet out here.”
Rafel did not answer immediately, as he was once again struck by her soft blue eyes, which held a sort of kindness that somehow seemed familiar. “Oh, of course!” Rafel answered finally, as he moved aside and gestured her inside. As she stepped out of the rain and into the light of the house, Rafel finally noticed the strangest thing about her. She was completely dry. And it wasn’t just that the water had not touched her, her shoes and stockings were free of mud from the ground as well. There was an obvious explanation, and Rafel checked his magesight.
Which only served to puzzle him further. Yes, this woman had magical ability, quite a bit, actually, but it was untrained. The spell keeping her dry seemed to be working on instinct more than conscious concentration. For someone in her mid-twenties (as Rafel estimated her age), having never had magical training was almost unheard of in Gralus. But there was something more than that. It was not just untrained; it was new. Like it had only been with the girl for less than a month. Which made absolutely no sense, when most mages were born with the ability. And yet, from the stories Gerk had told of his earlier life, it had happened twice before that he knew.
Rafel was broken from his thoughts when she spoke. “You are Rafel, yes? I… am called Analis.” She held out her hand hesitatively as if she were unaccustomed to shaking hands.
Rafel took it gently as his mind started back up again. Her speech – at first it had seemed that she was just distraught like the visitors he had before, but that was not quite it. Her tentativeness seemed to indicate instead that she was unsure of the language itself. Rafel’s eyes widened as he put two and two together. “You’re… not from around here, are you, Analis?”
She smiled. “You are as intelligent as they said you would be. But you look rather young for your age. Yes, as you suspect, I am from the island of Anaglea.”
“You must be here about Gerk, then,” Rafel said, and Analis nodded. “I’m sorry, if you were planning on taking him back to his homeland to be buried, you can’t. He was cremated earlier this week, and I doubt the Gralan Government will be willing to release his remains anytime soon.”
“Gerk is dead?” Analis was clearly in shock.
“Oh, oh, I’m sorry, didn’t you know? I just – I mean I thought that since you speak so well, you would have heard, or at least read it in the news somewhere along your way.”
Analis was crying now. “I can not read your language,” she said between sobs, “we had nothing from which to learn the characters on Anaglea.”
“Here, here, sit down,” Rafel said, offering her a chair. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been accustomed to showing much emotion himself, and here was this girl who had clearly traveled all this way just to see Gerk, and he hadn’t done very well at breaking the news to her. It seemed to him as if she was in agony. If he didn’t know any better, which he really didn’t, he would say that he’d just managed to crush all her hopes and dreams. “Gerk rarely spoke of Anaglea; I know that he was a hero for your people, but I had no idea he was so beloved.”
Analis managed to steady her breathing after a moment. “Yes, the Anagleans hold him in very high regard.” She sniffed twice. “But I do not merely weep for the loss of a great man.”
At this point, she broke into sobs once again, but Rafel thought it better to simply hand her a handkerchief and allow her to finish her explanation without interruption.
“I weep for the loss of my father.”
“Holy crap,” was what issued from Rafel’s mouth before he could regain control of his thoughts. And even then, they were coming far too quickly to be comprehensible. “I’m sorry, I need a moment,” Rafel said, to the general direction of where his brain thought he remembered Analis was sitting, and he nearly staggered out of the room and into the kitchen. He walked to the water basin, cupped some in his hands, and splashed the cool water into his face.
Of course. Her eyes. They might be a more brilliant blue than Gerk’s, but they had the same confident kindness. He hadn’t recognized it before because he never would have expected this. Clearly he had quite a lot to learn about the unpredictability of Gerk’s secrets. If she was conceived during Gerk’s return to Anaglea, not only would nobody here have known about her, but it would put her at around twenty five years old. And she was clearly the ‘her’ Gerk was referring to in his final words. But the question remained; how did Gerk, devoid of magical ability and never having again returned to Anaglea, know about his daughter when nobody else did?
Rafel rubbed his hands down his face and torso, running them over his leather vest. In doing so, he felt the envelope, inserted neatly into the inner pocket of his vest, which Gerk had given him about five years previous. He pulled it out and stared at it, slightly yellowed, with faded ink on the front scrawling out his name. You’ll know when the time comes to open it, Gerk had told him on his deathbed. Rafel figured that the time was now.
Rafel walked back into the sitting room, where Analis was waiting patiently. Her tears had stopped, but the wetness was still visible on her face. “He never told you about me?” Her inflection denoted that it was only half-question.
“He liked to keep his secrets. I imagine he’ll explain himself through this.” Rafel held out the envelope. “He gave it to me a few years ago, and told me I would know when to open it. I can only assume he meant it for you.”
Analis took the envelope very carefully, and opened it. She pulled out two separate stacks of folded paper, unfolded them, and examined them. Rafel noticed that one was written in the common language of the Empire, and one in a language he found unrecognizable, most likely Anaglean. “This one must be for you, though I cannot read it to be sure,” Analis said, handing the first letter back to Rafel.
He took it and began to read.
Rafel nearly laughed at reading this. Typical Gerk. He read on.To my faithful student, Rafel,
I fathom that there are only two reasons as to why you are reading this letter. I hope that your reason for doing so is the first and significantly more desirable one – that you have just met my daughter, Analis. And yes, I can say with certainty that she is indeed my daughter. I only wish I could have seen your face when she told you who she is.
Rafel chose this moment to look back up at Analis. There were tears in her eyes as she read in silence, but she was smiling, and looked as if she was, perhaps, even blushing slightly. Rafel’s respect of personal boundaries outweighed his curiosity and he read on.If it is the second reason, then I apologize, but I have no further wisdom for you here. I am truly sorry for the state of affairs I have left for you to sort through, and I do hope that everything works out in the end. I suppose, if you want, you can use the information I’ve included here to track down my daughter, if you think it would help, but I would advise against it. If she has not chosen to leave her home on her own, then I cannot see a happy ending result from her being forced to take my place. I write this letter under the assumption of the first reason, and I suggest that, if you are not reading it for the same reason, then you simply destroy it.
The first thing you probably wondered was how I knew. You know me better than anyone; you know I still had a limited magical ability, enough for parlor tricks, while the whole world thought I was rendered inept after moving Anebati. Enough magical ability that, if I would store it day after day, eventually I could cast a spell of scrying every two to three months. And yet, you wonder how I could scry Anaglea when I had never been able to in the past while searching for it. It is true; the island is trapped between the material and astral planes, unreachable through normal means from our world. But, in the past, I never had a link to the island. I never had the quantity of Anafanredu that I do now. And, most importantly, I never had a surface made out of the stones upon which to cast the spell. Yes, the mirror. The material still seems to have a link to its origin, which allows a spell of scrying cast upon it to reach back to Anaglea, and it is through this means that I was able to watch my people through the years, and see my daughter grow.
I imagine your next question is along the lines of ‘why did I not tell anybody?’ The answer is simple enough. I could not be sure Analis would choose to leave the island to find me. I did not want to instill false hope that my line would continue after my death. I write this letter knowing that I only have a few years left of my life, and Analis has yet to show the spark of adventure, though I expect it is only a matter of time. I cannot be sure I will be around when she finally makes her way to Gralus, if she does. So if it should come to the point at which you are reading this, know that I entrust her care to you. I have watched her grow; she is a kind and gentle soul, and she will certainly be a good influence on you, as you will be on her.
The bottom of the letter was scrawled with Gerk’s signature, the very end of which was blurred, as if it had been touched by water before the ink was dry. A tear, perhaps?She is the reason I never stopped you from halting your aging. It has not seemed to have any ill effects on you, and I wish you to keep your youth in order to care for her. But I ask you; do not tell her your secret. Let her work it out on her own, or else never know. She must be guided by curiosity and logic, not temptation.
I assume you have noticed her untrained magical ability. Teach her the magical arts; she will find them useful, and her ability will be further proof of her suitability to rule. For she is now the heir to the throne of Toketi, and I expect her to take up the position, but with great humility. And I expect you to teach her of this new world and help her to make the decisions that are right for the people, though she should not need your guidance for long. Though she is timid, she is also strong, and will want to tend to matters on her own. Watch over her, as a father would, and keep her safe. Furthermore, use the mirror to keep watch over my people as I have done these past years, and make sure no ill fate befalls them.
I have prepared and enclosed with this letter all of the legal documents you should need to provide proof that Analis is my heir, as well as a formal dispensation of her inheritance. I am leaving to her my entire estate, save those parts which I have already directed to be used for various other matters. You will, in my absence, present her with my sword as a rite of passage, as is Anaglean custom. I suspect she will also feel most at home with the People of the Jookoo, as I did, and they should accept her as a new leader. It would be most wise to wait a short time before revealing her identity to the world, until she knows more, but it would also be unwise to allow Toketi to linger too long without a ruler. Not being able to see into the future (though I hear there are many rumors to the extent that I can), I cannot say what the best time for this would be, but I expect you to make the right decision.
And so I leave you with my best wishes and my blessing. I will miss you, my friend.
It was at this point that Rafel realized he himself was crying, and he folded the letter, quietly excused himself, and went to find another handkerchief to dry his own eyes. Analis’s letter was apparently far longer than his, so when he returned and she was still reading, he sat in silence, reviewing the paperwork that was with the letter. Finally Analis finished and looked up, folding her letter back together.
“He really is gone, then,” was the first thing she could say.
“I’m sorry your trip here did not end up as you’d hoped,” Rafel replied.
There was silence for a few moments.
“I assume Gerk told you in his letter that he expects you to take the throne?” Rafel said, quietly, unsure whether it was a good time to touch the subject, but knowing that sooner would be better than later.
“He did. But… I would rather not think about that tonight, if that is alright. I am so tired; all I want is a place to sleep for the night.”
“Oh, of course, you can stay here for now. Or for as long as you want, I suppose. You’re welcome to take Gerk’s room, or we – I – always have a guest room prepared.”
“The guest room will be fine.”
Rafel could understand why she would not want to sleep in her father’s room, and he led Analis up the stairs to the guest room. He made sure she had everything she would need for the night, and then retired to his own room down the hall. It was late, perhaps ten o’clock, but as he lay in bed, he could not get to sleep. His mind just would not let him. Far too many things happened tonight for his brain to process. Unexpected things. And so he lay in bed for what he thought must have been at least three hours before exhaustion finally took over.
Ok, fine, Liam and Nargoth knew (I had to tell them for planning purposes) and Bayen guessed it off of Gerk's final words. But who's counting?
If you want to, you can check out her wiki page, but there's not a whole lot of extra information there.
I will be continuing this, naturally, but I don't terribly mind if you post responses (to the writing, of course, refrain from responding in character as this is a quote/unquote 'story') in this topic. Just refrain from degrading into pointless blather, if you would.