Osbert Ellias
(a.k.a. Ozzie, First Son of the Second Son, Lord in Name Only)
Mental characteristics
Personal history
World Anvil** Osbert Ellias, in progress
The Ellias family has ruled the island of Ashal for 250 years. King Philbert II Ellias and his Queen Emmeline produced 3 children: twins Princes Derrick and Drake (born in that order) and Princess Evelyn. Osbert I Ellias was born in 80 AF to Prince Drake and his wife Lady Lillian of House Dunbar. Though part of the royal family, young Ozzie is but 4th in line for the throne. That fact never bothered him one bit.
As young children, he, his siblings, the other highborn children laughed and played and wreaked havoc upon Ashal Keep, the capital of Ashal, as you’d expect from any children.
His older twin sisters, Ladies Lynette and Lydia (born in that order), were born in 78 AF. They were brought into the world together and remained together thereafter. The two were inseparable. Neither took any interest in their brothers. "We are holy twins, as our father and uncle are. We were born by the Grace of Goddess Funza and her god consort Frery. We shall be reborn for eternity." Or so the Church says of twins.
His younger brother, little Lord Philbert III, was born in 83 AF. He was the jewel of the castle, a happy little tot that lit up every room he entered.
As Osbert approached adolescence, feasts, balls, and games in the arena were gatherings that required attendance. He did not fit in well with the other little men and women of the court. He never felt a connection to anyone, so he stayed safely by his mother’s side. He felt he never had a comfortable opportunity to formally introduce himself. He had a close relationship with his brother, but his sisters mostly ignored him; that seemed okay with him.
He and his mother, Lady Lillian, had a special relationship. It was known that her boys were favored over her girls. She let Ozzie do things young boys shouldn't do. When her handmaid’s were dismissed, he got whatever he wanted. He wanted to play with her hair, have tea & brunch in the gardens, choose her gown for the day, sample her perfumes; the activities go on. But what he wanted most was to create and perform music. Lady Lillian was overjoyed with his natural talent for various instruments. He excelled especially in singing. He learned the flute, bird pipes, and horn. These hobbies and interests were not supposed to be for young boys, save low-born aspiring bards, and Lillian knew this. She alone was the catalyst in his musical aspirations coming to fruition. "You are my golden flower, my emerald jellyfish," she'd say, "the most special thing in my life." Though she tried to remain discreet, he would beg to perform for her and the highborn little daughters of the court. This did not go unnoticed by his father and his King.
His father, Prince Drake Ellias (as Ozzie was so often reminded), was always disappointed with his eldest son. He had expectations that were never met. His father expected him to become a knight, or soldier, or hold land as a lord, not performing music like some serving minstrel. Perhaps he'd marry a highborn lass, have some children, lord over a land and settle in a proper way.
Ozzie handled his teachings as best he could. He was average in his history and arithmetic schooling, but excelled in language; he took a special interest in poetry and writing. He inquired about magic once, when it was mentioned in various history lessons. "Never speak of this," his teachers would say. "It is strictly in Ashal’s past. Strictly forbidden." But this did nothing to diminish his awe. He imagined commanding with his voice, healing with his hands and charming others with his wit. If I had these abilities, perhaps I would be liked. Respected, even, he thought to himself. He could ride a horse as well as any, but swords and heavy armor and lancing did not come naturally to him. Prince Drake forced the matter anyway, making him practice thrice as much as the other boys in front of the other boys. A shred of respect came from his father when he showed minor proficiency with a short bow. "Maybe you'd make a decent Archer, " his father would say, "or at least have a useful life as a hunter. Mphm, jellyfish, indeed."
He did find some comfort in his younger brother. Philbert II Ellias was very joyous from birth. With golden hair and big hazel eyes, he brought endless laughter to King and court alike. "Ah, there is my favorite grandchild," the King would greet him, much to others' dismay. Ozzie was his "absolute favoritest person" as his little bub would have it. The way and why he loved unconditionally baffled Ozzie daily. How could a retch failure such as me deserve a bublet like this?
Osbert was a lonely child. The young men teased him for his failure in physical training. They would try to bully him in every way they could, but it was treason to get caught; after all, this is the grandchild of the King. They found their ways, though, and so he found no friends among them.
The girls, however, swooned at his silking hair, pretty green eyes and the beautiful music he composed. "I'm going to dance with him at the ball," they'd argue. "Well, I'm going to be his first kiss!" His face would flush in embarrassment as he’d scurry away.
He developed a low self esteem from a young age. What boy didn’t have interest in wooing girls? What boy could fail his master of arms so? What boy wanted music more than war?
What is wrong with me?, he oftened thought.
One night, during the celebration of the Princes' birthday, his mother urged him to socialize, or face the discontent of the King and Prince. "It will be fun, my sweet," she encouraged with a soft smile. Sighing, he approached the dance area, face red and palms sweating. He knew every dance and every song played, but had never asked a young lady to dance at such a paramount event. How am I going to pull this off? He pondered. Many a maiden giggled and gasped as they saw him, straightening their gowns and twirling their hair. He made eye contact with many, offering a curt nod in response to winks and waves.
A confident young woman noticed Ozzie and approached him directly. She had long flowing auburn hair and bright blue eyes. She was pale of skin and tall for her nature. Her smile was bright and she was wearing the colors of House Godfrey. The priest’s daughter, he noticed. Ozzie tried his best to use his taught courtesies. He pleaded internally to feel something, anything, as this beautiful girl walked his way. He greeted her with a bow and she curtsied in return. It should be noted that she took him in her arms. They started to dance.
"Osbert, yes?" she inquired. "The First Son of The Second Son. Grandson to His Majesty." Ozzie nodded. "I'm Alysanne Godfrey, my lord."
"Yes, I know," he said with a meek smile. "First Born of His High Holiness. Quite nice to make your acquaintance, my lady."
"Oh, I do hope we can be more than acquaintances, my lord." She smiled.
Ozzie stiffened, unsure of what to say. He glanced at his father and their eyes met. Prince Drake gave his head a quick dip in approval.
"My lady," he said, "but what of the magic of the chase? Surely you'd want to be doted on, as is your right by Courtship."
She gave a genuine laugh as they twirled around the ballroom floor. "Aye, but what of the magic of friendship?"
Ozzie said and did nothing. Friendship?
Lady Alysanne locked eyes with the young lord. She leaned closely and pecked him on the cheek with a kiss. Quietly, she said, "I only wish to befriend you. I know that I am not to your liking."
A wave of panic washed over him. "B-but there is no flower to compare your… your beauty to, m-my lady. You-"
"Call me Alysanne, please. And I am not as blind as the rest of these dull-headed hens. Nor are you." The song ended and the room erupted in hands clapping.
"Perhaps we can walk the gardens, just you and I? Soon?" She gave another truly genuine smile. "Call for me, if you wish."
He took a chance. There won’t be another who gives me friendship so willingly, he considered. Soon, Alysanne Godfery became Osbert's first and best friend. She knew what he was, who he was. And with time, she was able to help him understand himself better. He recognized the opportunity to start anew; his friendship with the priest's daughter relieved him of heat from his own father. His mother was elated that her favorite child had someone to call friend.
Lady Lillian Ellias became quite ill shortly after her husband’s birthday. She was tended to day and night by various apothecaries. She commanded them, as her sickness began, for her son to be with her as often as he once had. "Where is my green jellyfish?" she'd ask. "Bring him to me at once."
"I'm here, momma," he said soothingly.
"Ah, my princeling. How fares my golden flower?" she'd ask.
He gave a sad laugh. "I'm doing all right, mother. What ails you? Can I bring you anything to ease your pain?"
A smile appeared on her face. "Bring the family to me," she asked, "your father, sisters and brother. I wish to dine together."
"But, my lady-" her handmaiden intruded.
"Bring me my family," she commanded, "or the King will hear of this."
"Yes, my lady."
That meal was the best time Osbert ever had with his family all together.
During a wedding for one cousin or another, Alysanne and Osbert socialized as a pair. His mother was too weak to attend, and the young lord was grateful to have a buffer between him and his father in Alysanne.
"What does your father think of me?" he asked. "Does he pray for me nightly?"
Alysanne laughed. "As he does for all the people, my lord."
"My lady," he jested, "you know I dislike that."
Her face shifted, portraying concern.
"Ally, you know I only quip." No response. He followed her eyes, leading to her father. "What's the matter?"
Amos Godfrey, High Priest in the king's court, was a stoic, hard man. He was the Church and the Church was he. He was seen talking sternly to a young man Ozzie barely recognized.
"Who is that?" Ozzie asked.
"My brother," she responded and moved quickly towards her family.
Slowly the room started to notice the commotion. Amos took his children by the arms and disappeared posthaste. He did not see Alysanne for a fornite thereafter.
Lady Lillan's health declined rapidly. Osbert spent what days he was allowed with her. His mother was not long for this world. His father was rarely seen outside of their chambers. He saw sides of his father he never knew existed. The Prince dismissed all caretakers, save the High Practitioner in the king's court.
So, he does have a heart, Ozzie thought, and it's breaking in front of me.
It must be said that his sisters seemed to care only for things of a selfish nature. They visited their mother, to be sure, but they were consumed by the Church and their right to Courtship. "We must marry twins," they demanded of their father. "We must marry!" His father would reply, "You will marry, in due time, my water lillies. Trust your poppa that he shall find matches that respect your right to Courtship for many lifetimes to come."
Osbert and little Philbert had made the daily habit of walking the garden's together while their mother rested. Better I than any other to care for him, he decided. Philbert wanted to run and play, to keep his spirits high, so Ozzie let him.
"Find me!" his brother shouted, "if you can!"
Ozzie laughed. "You'd better hide, then!" He always took his time, to give his bublet some time to "disappear.”
As he began to search, he stumbled on Alysanne's younger brother, his head buried in a book.
Ozzie was startled. This is Almeric Godfrey, he noticed. Almeric was pale of skin and auburn of hair. His matching auburn eyes glistened with life. He was dressed in the colors of House Godfrey, white and gold. He had a trident embroidered on his tunic. He knew of this boy of Amos formally; he was a quiet, shy wallflower that excelled in his teachings and took more pleasure reading than fighting. He was rarely seen. I think we're both a disgrace to our fathers.
Osbert cleared his throat. "Hello," he said, approaching the young man.
The priest's son popped his head out from behind the book. He had a fading green and yellow bruise across his right cheekbone.
Ozzie winced. The retribution of the holy Church.
"Hello," Almeric whispered. They both locked eyes with each other.
"May I sit with you?" Ozzie asked. Almeric nodded. "What are you reading?"
Almeric showed him the front of the book. It read The Fourth Installment of The Faith of Aegir. That was not a surprise; Aegir is the principal god of Uskod. It is a fitting book for the future High Priest to be reading.
"How dutiful of you," Ozzie said. "By Aegir's grace we shall all prosper. He is the Sea, the Tide and the Wind."
Almeric smirked and opened the book on his lap. There was a cutout in the book, revealing a hidden book inside. Clever. That book's cover read The Histories and Mysteries of the Nix.
Ozzie's heart rate increased. He snatched the book from Almeric’s hands and threw it into the sea below without hesitation. The Nix are known to be seductive, manipulative, destructive spirits that possess mighty sea creatures and control deadly sirens. They are forbidden to even be spoken of.
"Hey!" Almeric said. "What'd you do that for?"
"In the name of the mighty Aegir, the merciful Bunzi, the guiding hand of Rutar, I-"
"Cut it out," Almeric interrupted, "you know all of that doesn't mean anything."
Ozzie was dumbfounded. Of course it's all rubbish, but that's not up to us to question.
Almeric sighed. "The Nix are fascinating, lively creatures," he started, his passion obvious. "They are full of life and freedom and luck. They promote individuality and open mindedness.” He looked down at his feet. “I sure hope to encounter a Nix spirit one day."
Confusement consumed Ozzie, but he felt his lips lifting in a smile. "How did you even get it?"
"Oh, I dig more in the castle's library than that old book-keeper coot."
"That... was in the library? Conrath's library?"
"Sure was, though it did take a bit of searching. There are many hidden gems in there."
Ozzie looked out upon the sea. "I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, "but that book is forbidden. You could get into troub-." He stopped, glancing at Almeric’s bruise.
"More trouble than I already drown in?"
"Brother!" Philbert screamed. "BROTHER! FIND ME!"
Ozzie let out a happy sigh. "Give your sister my love. I need to-"
Almeric smiled and waved. "Happy hunting."
Ozzie found himself daydreaming of Almeric. Conflicting feelings dwelled within. Why does he choose to go against the norm?, he thought. Surely he can only endure so much mistreatment. Almeric appealed to him. Feelings he'd never allow himself to have become overwhelming. Randomly, he would smile to think of him. "Freedom," he’d find himself saying. He wondered if he'd ever get to talk to him again.
Shortly after, Alysanne and Osbert shared a day meal one sunny day.
"How goes your right to Courtship? Surely many a man have their eye set on you. Give me gossip, I beg of you."
Alysanne looked at him, seeming to know something that he didn't.
"What is this face? You know I shan't share the desires of your heart. Whatever secret you keep is safe with me." He smirked.
She looked around, seeming to ignore his request for gossip. She reached under her dress and produced a book. "My brother told me of you visiting him," she said, "and he said to have this book."
"The fourth installment in The Faith of Aegir," he read to himself. "What a holy gesture, it's important our Faith remains strong."
The book inside was called Tides Of Man: Adventures at Sea. He smirked, running his hand over the tome.
They looked at each other, and after a while, started laughing.
"All right, Oz, there are many who catch my eye, but none have yet to impress me." They spent the rest of the afternoon in good company, conversation and cuisine.
Lord Osbert found his way to Almeric's reading nook in the gardens during a hide-and-seek session with his bub.
"I read the book you sent me," he said, blushing and putting a lock of golden hair behind his ears.
"What did you think?" Almeric asked.
"I enjoyed it. Deeply... Thank you for that."
"It's my pleasure."
Both looked at each other, and a long-suppressed feeling washed over him. This man was...pleasing? Attractive. Alluring.
"Feel free to send me books whenever you fancy."
Almeric beamed from ear to ear. "I will do so. I'm glad you enjoyed it, my lord."
"Please, I am no lord. Just Osbert." He paused before walking away. "Or Ozzie, if you like."
"Ozzie it is, then."
Hearing his name from Almeric's lips was intoxicating.
Ozzie and Almeric began to meet in the nook in the gardens frequently. They were discussing the latest book.
"Truly, this woman weaves a tale like I've never imagined. She imagines for the reader," Ozzie observed.
"I concur, it is refreshing to have a vivid, lively book, especially written by a woman. It won't ever get its deserved recognition because she's of the fairer sex."
Ozzie rubbed the back of his head and cringed to himself. Al, you're the fairest of all. No, that wasn't right. A life with a woman was inevitable to him.
He noticed Al leaning over, making close eye contact. Their faces drew close together and shared a kiss. Almost instinctual, Ozzie wrapped his arms around Al's waist and Al cupped Ozzie's chin with his hands. They came up for air, resting on each other's foreheads to touch.
"What is this?" Osbert puzzled. "What good is this feeling when it's unholy and unlawful? What good is this? What is this?" he repeated to himself, confliction wriggling in his mind and heart.
"This is freedom, Ozzie," Al said, pulling away.
Ozzie had tears falling from his eyes. "I want freedom, but I can't have it. That is not for me. Not for an Ellias. I've no options."
Almeric stood from the bench they shared. "It's been a pleasure, my lord, as always." His face flushed. "I'd like to see you tomorrow." He wiped tears from Ozzie's cheeks.
He nodded his head. "Or the day after."
"A date, then?"
Ozzie smiled and nodded.
The day after, and after, and after they met in their spot, expressing their unholy emotions freely and doing unlawful things to each other.
There came a day when Ozzie's trip to rock bottom began.
Lady Lillian Ellias died on BLANK MONTH 95 AF. King and court mourned as one. During her funeral, she was put on a boat lined with riches to appease Aegir, as is the ancient tradition.
His High Holiness Amos Godfrey provided this sermon dutifully: "Oh bountiful Aegir," he began, "we come to you today to send your child to the depths of your Sea. A wife to a prince, a mother to royal children and a friend to all. Her elegance and grace from Bunzi, her steadfast love from Frery and her devotion to the Church from Aegir himself was a prime example to us all. We are not to see the likes of her again. We pray for her rebirth as Rutar guides her to a sea of paradise."
And the congregation said: “May Rutar guide her.”
There was not a dry eye to be seen. King Philbert II and his Queen Emmeline bowed their heads in respect. Young Philbert III wailed as the Holy Sailors pushed her out to sea. He clung to Ozzie, soaking his tunic in tears. His sisters wore matching black gowns and dabbed tears from their faces. Even Prince Drake's eyes appeared red and swollen. Osbert had never seen his father cry. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll miss her too, poppa."
Drake quickly recoiled. "Prince Drake," he corrected, "and never presume to touch me again."
Not even a fortnight later, Prince Drake summoned his son to his apartments.
Drake was known as a calm and calculating man. He always wore the finest clothes and took pride in his appearance. Both sons inherited the golden hair of House Ellias and Philbert his hazel eyes. He kept his locks clean-cut and his face clean-shaved. He wore his signet ring on his left middle finger, as if to say, I am too busy to remove it, in case a parchment needs waxing. He spent time in the sun, leaving his skin tan and lively.
That was not the case today. It was clear he had become undone. His workspace was in disarray, papers everywhere. A wax bottle had toppled over and hardened to the wooden surface. Many silver cups and plates cluttered the room. He had a scraggly beard and his body had thinned. His skin was pale and ashen, and his hazel eyes were fueled by hatred. Hints of madness coated his voice. It was clear he was grieving, his mind unsound.
Ozzie noticed this as he was entering the room. "You called on me, my Prince," he greeted with a deep bow.
"It is high time that you give a maiden the right of Courtship," Drake said between bites of a meal. "It is high time you're married."
"But father," he stuttered, taken aback. "But I am still young, still have training and learning to do. As you've said, I've much work to do with myself. A beautiful maiden deserves all of m-"
"That's enough. The matter is not up for discussion. I have commanded this of you. Your grandfather the King has commanded this of you. And you will marry."
He stood looking down at his feet, silent. Do not cry, do not struggle, do not dishonor the family.
His father stared at him as he picked around a platter of food. "Do you have anything to say?" Drake asked.
He just shook his head.
"You have no interest in marriage? Courting a maiden? It is one of life's greatest pleasures to share life, bed, and children with a woman."
"As you say, father."
"As I say!" The Prince stood quickly. He slammed his hands on the table, papers flying everywhere. Ozzie flinched.
Drake sighed. "I care not for your wants. I care only for the honor of House Ellias. If by some accident or will of gods, you could be king." He paused. "Perhaps then the gods would will another 'accident', and your brother would take your place. He is twice the man you are, though 3 years your junior."
"Father," the young lord said, "nothing would please me more than to honor the family. I will take a wife. I will play my part. I only wish-"
"Play your part? You are not some bard or fucking minstrel! You are a lord, a princeling-"
Ozzie continued. "I only wish to postpone. Mother has not been in the Depths for a fortni-"
"Do not speak of her! Do not!" he screamed, no doubt loud enough to travel through walls. "It is by her love alone that I have given you grace. No more."
What I have been given all my life was grace?
Drake composed himself as best he could. "It is done. You will marry Alysanne Godfrey. You will bestow upon her children. And you will redeem yourself. It is not too late." Another bite of fruit. "It is not too late."
It was ironic that Alysanne was chosen as his betrothed, as she held his deepest secret close to her heart. It was the best Osbert could’ve asked for. The Prince and High Priest ordered them to take a boat to Rutar's Sea. There are many ways a maiden could claim her Courtship, but by boating they sealed their engagement.
The boat they took was none other than King II Philbert's. He himself courted his Queen Emmeline on this craft. "Perhaps that could work in our favor," the Prince said. "Trap them for a weekend at sea. The gods have blessed the Emmy. He is handsome and she is beautiful. That is all they need."
They waved at their respective parents from the modest but mighty ship. Immediately, Osbert started to cry. Alysanne held him in her arms.
"You should be the one crying," he said. "You deserve so much more. You deserve a man.” He wiped tears and snot from his face. “I am no man."
"Shh," she whispered, her eyes misty. "You are a man. My brother is a man."
"You deserve someone who loves you," he said, pulling back. "You know I love you, Ally, but I cannot give you what you want."
She nodded. "I know."
They spent several hours tending to the boat, working in unison to guide it.
"What if we never went back?" she whispered. "Freedom."
"What?"
She sighed. "A silly girlish notion, never you mind." She looked out to sea. "There are worse people to be married to, you know."
He followed her gaze, the sea calming any present anxiety he had. "For me, that is fact. There would be no other woman for me, if indeed that is my fate."
"Indeed it is."
My guardian angel. What a poor soul to guard, he thought solemnly.
After a week’s end, they returned to Uskod proper. They were met by the Prince and Priest.
"Oh, father, I am elated," Ally said, hugging him. "How could I have made a better match than this? Look at him."
All eyes settled on Ozzie.
"My lady, the honor is mine. Never have I seen a fairer flower, a brighter beauty or a lovelier Lady." He planted a kiss on her cheek. "I can barely wait a fortnight for our union."
Their fathers smiled and nodded at each other.
Father, you know not of my talents in drama. I can and will play this part.
At their next meeting, Ozzie and Almeric laid in their nook, staring at the sun.
"My sister is indeed a 'fair flower'," he jested.
Ozzie bumped him with his shoulder. "You said you liked my poetry."
Al laughed. "I do, but only for me."
A pause.
"I am sorry, Al."
"What for?"
"Your sister deserves someone who can give her what she desires. This is the best scenario I could've asked for, given the circumstances. But with me, she is trapped."
"Oh, she'll find her ways, I'm sure." He gave a wink. "I wish to be trapped with you, my love."
Ozzie smiled. "I wish that as well."
They started to kiss when he heard leaves rustling.
"Philbert, please," Ozzie said. "I shall hunt with you in a little while.”
No response.
The two young men looked at each other.
"I'll be back in a moment," young lord Ellias said with another quick kiss.
He stood and looked through the shrubbery. He locked eyes with his cousin, Lothar Anker, son of his aunt, Princess Evelyn Ellias, though she married Lord Anker, High Captain in the King’s court. He quickly scurried to confront him.
"Well, well, well," Lothar said. He had plain brown hair, plain brown eyes and a plain face. He was wearing the colors of house Anker, navy and white. A silver anchor was sewn over the breast of his tunic.
"Well, what, cousin?" The two had never taken a liking to each other. Lothar was a weasel, too eager to please and too brainwashed to think for himself.
"Why are you in the company of the Godfrey deviant?"
"Deviant?" Ozzie replied. "What does that mean?"
"Oh come, cousin, you're a bright young man. Surely you can see he is not right. You're an Ellias, you must do better." Lothar smirked. It was out of character for him to give advice and care about the wellbeing of, well, anyone.
"Speak your next words carefully, Anker," Ozzie threatened.
"All men our age are betrothed, you and I included. He is not." Lothar glanced through the bushes, eyes warm with mischief.
Ozzie clenched his jaw, but said nothing.
"He likes you," Lothar whispered, knowingly. "He is a deviant. Can't you see? I am trying to help you, cousin."
He slapped the smirk right off Lothar Anker's face. His cousin was taken aback.
"You are my aunt's son, so I shall give you this warning." Confidence filled Ellias as a rush of warmth consumed his body. What’s this, now? "If I ever speak to you outside of what is required of us again, it will be the last time you speak. In the name of our grandfather the King." He saw Lothar’s eyes dilate, expressing calmness and fear simultaneously. Submission.
"May Rutar protect you, Osbert."
Much of his time became devoted to Alysanne Godfrey. For a while it was fun; they spent their days and gatherings alike: together.
After a fortnight or so, it became difficult to enjoy life under constant scrutiny. Their every move was watched. Their every conversation was cataloged. I hadn’t a clue how strenuous it’d be to play this part, he thought. Guards trailed behind them everywhere they went, save into their private quarters. “Do we need this, truly, father? Endless chaperoning can leave Courtship in ruins.” Their pleas were never permitted by the Prince nor Priest. So they fulfilled their roles as best they could. In time, their friendship became strained.
He missed his fiance’s brother deeply. Through the past weeks, he was lucky to see him from afar. They would exchange sad smiles and waves when the opportunity presented itself, but that was the extent of it.
Lord Ellias and Lady Godfrey visited the castle’s museum on a dreadfully stormy day. Purple and blue bursts of light struck the ground, and thunderclaps followed rapidly. Wind raged, mimicking the roar of a Kraken. Rainfall like daggers caused a large amount of water to pool in various parts of the city. Storms were rare in Uskod; it is known for its ceaselessly perfect weather.
“Kimbazi’s fury has overflowed on this day,” His High Holiness predicted. “She is warning us of something grim; let us pray that she is appeased quickly.”
Inside, though, it was warm and dry. Torches lined the walls, illuminating each item next to them. There were many artifacts, portraits, and trophies to be seen. A guard stood leaning against the opening of the entrance, tasked with watching the betrothed. His snores echoing across the otherwise-silent room hinted that he had dozed off. It was the perfect scenario in which to speak liberally.
“Ozzie?” Alysanne started.
“Yes dear?”
“How are we going to bring a child into this world?”
He gave a small sigh. Quietly, he said, “I don’t know, Ally.”
A moment of silence followed.
“Ozzie?”
“Yes?”
“We’ve no options. If our child does not inherit the Golden Mane…”
“I know.” His emerald green eyes were misty. He looked up at the portraits before him. All Ellias’, all golden haired.
“Perhaps we can find a… man of the night with yellow hair.”
“A stranger impregnating me?” Alysanne replied with little patience in her voice. “That won’t work.”
“We will make plans for this, I promise.”
“Forthrightly, we need to plan immediately. We are to be wed anon. Our fathers will expect a child no more than one year from now.”
“Yes I agree, but we’ll figure somethi-”
“No!” she exclaimed. “We will come to an arrangement now.”
“Then I will place a golden haired Ellias in you,” he avowed, “and we shall subscribe to being puppets for the rest of our lives. But at least we’ll have each other.” He offered a weak smile.
The family portraits were blurry from tears as he looked upon them. Only their yellow crowns of hair made their way through.
Without warning, Alysanne took him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall. Her lips met his, and she pressed her body close with forced passion. He did not resist but did not reply with vigor.
“Ally,” he whispered. “What ar-”
“Just try, okay? You’ve never even tried.”
She continued making advances. He made extensive efforts to respond in kind. He awkwardly placed a hand on her lower back and shifted his weight towards her.
Just as quickly as she began, she pulled back. She began to quietly sob, fall on her knees and cover her face.
She’s unraveling.
Ozzie scooped her up in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking as she wept.
“This isn’t you; not the strong, breathtaking Ally I know,” he whispered encouragingly. “We will get through this. We will find a way. You know I love you, I will take care of you.”
Alysanne chuckled. “How could you possibly?” she uttered to herself. He was speechless.
After a while of sitting in silence, she composed herself. “Forgive me, my lord, but I am weary. I shall retire to my chambers.” She gave a perfunctory curtsy and made her way towards the entrance. The guard awoke, startled, gave a sleepy “milady” and swiftly followed her.
Lord Osbert was left bawling as the rains flooded the island. He slammed his hands against the stone wall and shouted at his ancestors, and a shaking clap of thunder followed. “Why wasn’t I born a twin? Why wasn’t I born inherently happy? Why was I born?” He took a moment to catch his breath.
I am unraveling.
He made his way back to his room. A servant was waiting, presumably to tend to his needs. He looked forward to a hot bath, a warm fire in the hearth, a fresh meal and clean linens.
“Prepare my room,” he commanded. “I am fatigued and freezing.”
The servant shook his head and pointed his thumb to Ozzie’s door.
“Did I falter?” he said. “Prepare my room, at once.”
The servant sighed, looked down the hallway twice and opened his door.
Cautiously, he entered the room. “Father? Alysanne?” he called. No response. The servant closed the door behind him.
What horror awaits me now?
He looked upon his canopy bed and there sat Almeric Godfrey.
Ozzie almost choked. “What are you doing?” he asked frantically.
“I wanted to see you,” Almeric replied.
“You and I both could be in grave danger at this very moment.”
Al laughed. “We are always in trouble.” He moved to a closed-in patio with a thick blanket. He bidded Ozzie to follow, to look upon the awe-inspiring storm that surrounded them together. And he did.
The thick blanket shielded them from rain and cold. Al snuggled his head under Ozzie’s chin. “How I’ve missed you so, Osbert.”
How many times can a person cry without shriveling from dehydration?
But hydrated he remained as tears resumed falling down his cheeks.
“We cannot see each other anymore,” Ozzie said, sniffeling. “I fear for our lives if we were to be caught. We are seen as scandalous to both church and state. What we share is punishable by death.”
Almeric’s optimism didn’t fluctuate. “Then let our fates be sealed, by one way or another. It is I you want, not my sister. Let us all come to an understanding.”
“Your sister is ill, Al. Our match has been laborious. Our friendship is fading.”
“Have faith,” Al offered ironically. “It is grueling, to be sure, but it’s something we can find a solution to in time.”
“There is no solution; we must play our parts and our meetings must end.” Impatience laced his voice.
“End? It will not be; we will figure somethin-”
“We will put an end to this now,” Ozzie commanded.
I’m trying to protect you, don’t you see?
“Then I will be the brother of your wife and inherit the title of Priest,” Al avowed, “and we will play our parts. But at least we’ll be able to see one another, at least in passing; I’d hope to still have you. I love you.” Al’s eyes filled with tears. “I can protect us.”
“How could you possibly?” Ozzie muttered to himself.
Almeric looked up at him and kissed tears off his face. He placed a hand on his chest soothingly. Ozzie took Al’s hand in his and rubbed it with his thumb softly. They cried together. Tears and raindrops both pooled in their laps.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Ellias said, pulling away, “but I am weary. I wish to bathe and eat and sleep in solitude.” He walked to the door and opened it, finding the same servant standing watch. “See that Lord Almeric returns to his apartments swiftly. The King will hear if you do not do this. Do it quickly and with discretion.” The warm feeling he felt when speaking with his cousin was present again; the servant’s eyes dilated, showing both calmness and fear. Submission.
Alysanne took to praying in the chapel daily after their meeting in the museum. She claimed to seek prayer for good favor in their marriage, and requested that she be alone. It was sanctioned by Amos Godfrey.
Ozzie spent those days with Philbert. I need someone, even if he doesn't understand.
Chillingly, Philbert then stated, “I know, Oz.”
“What do you know, bublet?”
“I know your nature.”
Ozzie just stood staring at him.
“I’m sorry no one understands,” the little lord continued.
“There is nothing to understand.”
Philbert sighed. “Well, I’m in love with Marie. She has strawberry hair and sometimes I’ll see her at a party.”
Ozzie chuckled. “I didn’t know this.”
“Yes, I want to marry her,” he said. “But nobody understands.”
Silence.
“Father says I’m too young to marry.”
“You are, bub.”
“Father says she’s not good enough for me. But she is! She’s everything I want. But I can’t have her.”
“You are an Ellias; things are expected of us.”
“See?” the little lord said. “Nobody understands.”
Ozzie smiled and tousled his brother's hair. “Wise beyond your years, young one.”
Osbert held his breath as he entered the great church. He let out a long sigh, thankful that he did not burst into flames as he passed the threshold. He looked around the room.
The church was being prepared for his wedding to Alysanne Godfrey. Colors of both houses were reflected in extravagant decor. The royal hemlock and holy trident sigils adorned the walls and linens. At the highest platform stood Amos Godfrey, consumed with the planning and perfection of the event to come. He held a large folder and was turning its pages rapidly. Servants came and went, frantically fulfilling commands.
Osbert took a big swallow and approached His High Holiness. “My lord,” he said with a respectful bow. “How fares my betrothed?” He looked at his feet. “And her brother? I’ve not seen either of them in weeks.”
The High Priest did not look up from his notes. “It took you this long to ask about her,” he said, ignoring his inquiry about Almeric. “Why now?”
“I wanted to respect her time in prayer. I’ve been praying myself for her well-being. I can’t stand to see her in such a way.” Amos said nothing. “Where are your children, my lord?”
“In prayer,” he responded, still not giving the honor of eye contact with his soon-to-be son-in-law.
Oz cleared his throat. By law, all houses vowed allegiance to and obeyed House Ellias.
“I demand to see my fiancé,” Osbert said. “I command this at once.” He looked Amos in the eye and willed for him to submit.
Slowly, the priest raised his head and slapped the book he was holding closed. Without breaking eye contact, he made his way down the stairs from the platform and stopped at the step Ozzie stood on. He looked down upon the young princeling and crossed his hands behind his back.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Amos started stoically. His auburn eyes were dark and his pupils were contricted. There was no hint of submission in his eyes. “I am hard of hearing these days. Command me again, if you please.”
Osbert thought he’d surely urinate on himself. He took a deep breath.
“I worry for my Ally. I have not seen her for days. If you’d kindly point the way, I’d like to pray with her.”
Amos opened his book and resumed his planning. “You do not need my permission, young lord Ellias. You’ll find her in her chamber.”
Quickly, Osbert held his breath and scurried his way to the Godfrey apartments. He was escorted to her room.
“Ally?” Osbert called. “Ally? It’s me. Are you okay?”
He did not hear a response.
“It’s your handsome betrothed,” he joked. “Let’s take a walk in the gardens. It’ll do you good to get some fresh air.”
No response.
He continued into her room, finding untouched food and several clean sheets and sets of clothes. There was no fire in her hearth and her bed was a mess.
Panic consumed him. Where is she? he worried. Surely if her father said she’d be there then she’d be there.
He turned to the guard escorting him. “Where is my Lady?” he asked. “Where is her brother?” He received a nonchalant shrug.
He gave a big sigh and made his way to find the Godfrey children. Surely one of them would’ve escaped to a secret place.
The gardens were as beautiful as ever. Flowers and shrubbery were well kept. Floral aromas and sea salt were pleasing to the nose. Waves crashed against the rocks below, soothingly. A mild wind ruffled the plants, causing petals to decorate the stone pathways.
He made his way to the hidden nook where he and Al spent time together. He saw Godfrey auburn hair and parted the bushes.
There she was, sitting on the bench that he and her brother shared not so long ago, her back to him. His heart skipped a beat.
“Alysanne?” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him.
She was just in disarray just as her chamber was. Her hair was dirty and matted. Her gown was stinking and stained. She wore no perfume. She was thin and frail. Her face was red and swollen. She began to sob.
Osbert took her in his arms. “What are you doing here? I went to the sept…”
“He’s gone,” she cried.
His heart stopped. “Wh…who is gone?”
She just looked at him.
It can’t be…
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Oz… I was so wrapped up in my own self pity that I neglected him.”
He just listened.
“It’s my fault. I couldn’t protect him. My father won’t talk, no one will talk about it. None of my fucking questions are being answered. He’s just…gone.” She collapsed into his arms once again.
He held her and rubbed her hair to comfort her. “I’m sure he’s just in punishment,” he said frantically.
“Ozzie…”
“Yes, in punishment,” he continued. “He said it himself, he’s always in trouble. He’s just in trouble, that’s all. All trouble ends at some point…”
“Oz…”
“Right? Or maybe he ran away, rebelling against the church; we could search for him in town.”
“Ozzie, there’s no where he’d go that he wouldn’t be returned to my father at once.”
“Ally…he is just, he’s…”
“He is gone!” she screamed. “They killed him, I know it. I know it in my heart.”
Ozzie started to shake with panic. He stood, letting go of her, and started to pace. “I knew it,” he laughed. “I’ve known it all along. How could’ve I been so hopeful? So reckless? We are unholy. The gods have been angered and now they’ve taken him. Or the law, we’ve broken the law. We are unnatural. It’s my fault. All my fault. He’s dead because of me. Why not me? Why…”
Alysanne pulled her knees to her chest and continued to cry. “Yes, why not you?”
Ozzie ran his fingers through his hair and backed away from her.
“I’m sorry, Oz, I didn’t mean…”
His body burned hot with rage. His warm skin turned pale and his emerald eyes turned olive. He clenched his fists and turned to leave.
“No! Ozzie don’t go! Don’t leave me here…”
He broke into a sprint and made his way to the Ellias chambers.
When he reached his father’s office, he slammed the doors open as loudly as he could.
“Drake!” he shouted.
His father did not look at his son. “You’re upset.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Him?”
“Almeric. Almeric Godfrey.” His voice was laced with fury.
“How should I know?” he responded, continuing to work at his desk.
Osbert stomped towards him, slammed down his hands and wiped the desk clean.
His father had his attention.
“What did you do to him!”
Drake smirked. “As I’ve told you, I do not know.”
Ozzie twisted his face.
“And as we’ve discussed,” the Prince continued calmly, “it is customary for a Prince to be referred to as-“
“Fuck you!” he shrieked. “He was my friend, one of my only friends! Tell me! Now!”
His father stood abruptly and brought his face close to his son’s.
“Friend?” he said seriously.
Osbert Ellias stormed away into the hallway.
His emotions were too much to handle. Heartbreak, rage, confusion, embarrassment, regret, denial. They swirled around in his head and like dancers on a ballroom floor. He returned to his room and destroyed everything he could find. He ripped his linens to near shreds. He threw the books Al gave him in the hearth and set them aflame. Salty tears ran down his cheeks and into his mouth. He picked up his desk and threw it out the patio to the road below. He splintered his desk chair on the stone walls around him.
After a while, he became numb. He sat on the patio bench he and Almeric shared not so long ago. He stood and placed his hands on his balcony sill.
Jump, he found himself considering.
He climbed up on the edge and looked down to the city below.
Jump.
He reached for the ceiling and steadied himself.
Jump.
Instead, he collected his most valuable belongings.
Run.
He found himself standing outside the Ellias treasury in front of three guards.
“Move,” he said.
The guards laughed.
“Are you even still an Ellias anymore?” one said.
“You can’t command us,” another snorted.
He mustered as much energy he still possessed and looked them each in the eye.
“In the name of my grandfather the King, I command you all to step aside,” he said.
They were easily glamoured. Each set of eyes dilated and each face softened. “At once, my lord.” They made themselves scarce.
The room contained half of the Ellias family wealth, or so he’d been told. He began to take treasure in the form of gold and jewels. He found a golden locket with a picture of his mother inside and put it on immediately. He happened upon a small leather pouch. It was more than that, though; it felt alive. Magic was forbidden, including enchanted items, but there it sat. He picked it up. It felt light as feathers and heavy as rocks all at once. He looked into the pouch.
His eyes went white. He saw flashes of his personal items and the riches he held. His lute, birdpipes, tunics, shoes, hats, jewelry, soaps, and an ungodly amount of gold.
He gasped and his eyes were green once again. He and Al had read about magical items such as these. “A bag of holding…” he said to himself. “Perfect.”
He put his hood up then made his way to several vendors. He went to an armoury master for a leather tunic and boots and a weapon maker for a crossbow and arrows. He visited the food stalls to gather food to last him for a month. He stole books on magic he and Al had hidden in the library. It all fit perfectly in his new pouch.
The hour was late when he decided to make one last stop. He made his way to his brother’s chamber and found him asleep. His emerald eye glistened with tears. “Goodbye, my brother. My bublet. My friend.” He planted a long kiss on Philbert’s forehead and tucked him in. The little lord smiled in his sleep. Lord Osbert Ellias turned and walked away before he changed his mind.
Emotions fogging his brain were pushed into the far recesses of his mind. He fought tooth and nail to feel nothing. Feeling numb was better than feeling at all, he supposed.
“I require a boat,” he said to the sailors as he entered the commonfolk’s harbor. They looked at each other and shrugged. It seemed that no glamour was needed.
“That’ll be BLANK gol-“
Before they could finish, he tossed gold at their feet, took his boat and set sail, leaving Ashal behind forever. He was 15 years old.
Working the small boat took a lot of effort. Whenever time allowed, he took to playing his lute and singing to soothe himself. He journaled songs he wrote as inspiration came to him. The books he stole had information on magic, so he studied them front to back. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He went where the wind and tide took him. And wind and tide were kind to him.
After a fortnight or so, he docked at Wren Island. Anywhere is better than home, he decided.
“Fee’s BLANK gold to dock, son,” a sailor said.
He gave them what they asked for. “And room and board? Where shall I look?”
“Try the Jagged Blade. They ‘cept just ‘bout anyone anytime. Never heard of ‘em not havin’ no rooms. Sure as rain, you’ll find luck there.”
Lucky me, he thought ironically.
It was about mid-afternoon and business was booming. He never imagined that there was this much diversity in the world. He saw red Tieflings with long and twisted horns; green Orcs, at least 8 feet tall and muscles bulging; lavender Elves that seemed to glow with youth and float on air; blood-bearded Dwarves that looked hard as stone but laughed loudly; blue and green and gold-scaled Kobolds, all quietly focusing on a table game of some kind. There were beings so short that he couldn’t place the race. He guessed 2 feet tall, at most. Gnomes? Surely not; gnomes didn’t exist.
The air is suffocatingly heavy with…magic?
“Sir?” he heard, pulling him from thought. “Sir? Hello? What can I do for you?”
He turned towards a beautiful brown-skinned human tending the bar. She had dark but bright eyes, curly hair and a countless number of gold jewelry adorning her body. She had tattoos on her hands and neck, but the rest of her body seemed to be without ink.
She gave him a sad smile. “You look like you need a drink. A bath and food, too, but everything’s better with ale in the belly.” She poured him a cup of something dark and slid it his way. “First one’s on the house.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly and accepted the drink. He took a sip and his tongue was coated with bitterness. He tried his best not to let his face give him away. “I’ll need a room as well, if you have the vacancy.” She nodded and gave him a key from behind the counter. He nodded back and took a seat.
She took to cleaning and drying glasses, but never really took her eyes off Osbert.
“So,” she started. “What’s your story? You don’t seem to be from around here.”
He looked into his cup. “I’m not.”
She nodded and waited for him to say more.
“This is a safe space you’ve happened upon. People ‘round here are decent people, good people. And they all know ruckus and trouble ain’t allowed in my bar.”
“No one is safe and everyone is in trouble.” He choked back the rest of his ale and gave her a gold piece. “Excuse me, my lady, but I should retire. My journey has left me quite tired.”
“My lady?” she called, laughing. “I didn’t kn-“
He walked upstairs towards his room, ignoring her.
The tub in his room was already full with hot, soapy water. He circled around it, surprised that it was already prepared.
Magic, he decided. It has to be.
After a spell, he climbed into the metal tub. A wave of pleasure swept over his body. The bubbles started to float all around him from the tub to the ceiling. They were green and smelled of eucalyptus. He took a deep breath and submerged his head. Visions of enormous trees blowing in the wind filled his mind. He could see and smell the aromatic leaves falling into his tub. He felt the warm wind tickle his hair. He emerged from the water, smiling.
Social
Family Ties
King Philbert Ellias, current head of the royal family, rules the island with his Queen Emmeline Ellias. She bore him twin sons, Prince Derrick and Prince Drake (born in that order) and a daughter, Princess Evelyn.
Osbert Ellias was born to Prince Drake and Princess Lillian in 80 AF and was raised in the halls of Conrath Keep in the island’s capital, Ashal.
There were his older sisters, the Ladies Lynette and Lydia (once again, born in that order in 78 AF) He had a younger brother, little lord Philbert III born in 83 AF)
There were his cousins; Emmette and Phyllis, son and daughter to his uncle, Prince Derrick. Gods willing, Emmette will one day rule as king; Prince Edwin, Prince Lothar, and Princess Ella, sons and daughter of his aunt, Lady Evelyn and her husband Lord Zale Anker.
Religious Views
Sea based religion/following
Alignment
Chaotic Good
Ethnicity
Age
20 years
Family
Children
Current Residence
Nomad
Pronouns
Him/His
Sex
Male
Gender
Male
Presentation
60% feminine and 40% masculine
Eyes
Emerald green with gold flakes
Hair
Shoulder length golden blonde
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
White with warm undertones
Height
5 foot 10 inches
Weight
170 lbs
Belief/Deity
Sea-based gods
