The Turning Point [PM for Entry]

[Nora]

Nora frowned at the notion of rising, showing her distaste for the idea by covering her face and burrowing under the blanket and into the mattress. Monroe knew she’d had a long day yesterday, and she was still tired. Besides, why did she need to be up when it was just going to be Monroe and the old man, Mr. Zobek, talking all morning? Nora would be staying in the house anyways, so why not do it in bed?

The bed creaked as Monroe stood, no doubt to start a fire in the small fireplace to make a small pot of oatmeal, as he did every morning. Nora always hoped he would be in a good mood and mix a bit of sugar into the bland mix, but it was usually a rare treat along with a bit of blackberry jam on their morning bread. She didn’t understand why, considering Monroe never seemed to have any trouble procuring the stuff. They could have had it every day if they wanted to.

As soon as Mr. Zobek entered the cabin and beckoned the young woman out of her slumber, an audible groan could be heard from under the blankets. Nora was almost certain she’d heard the same line from Monroe some mornings, and the fact that it now came from someone she wasn’t familiar with made it all the more annoying. But the sound and smell of the crackling fire meant that breakfast would soon be ready, and that thought alone was enough to stir the teenager from the comforts of bed.

Sitting up, Nora yawned and stretched, her magenta hair a tangled mess sticking to and fro. Her gnarled left shoulder was now out in plain sight, having removed her armband to sleep, but the most mind Nora paid to it was scratching it a bit before finally sliding out of bed and walking over to the small table. She sat down just as Monroe brought two bowls of oatmeal. The groggy looking teen smiled as she smelled the caramelized sugar in the bowl, almost immediately diving into the bowl with her spoon.

“Sir, the other bowl is for you,” Monroe said to Mr. Zobek as he walked back to the table with a third bowl for himself. Nora barely paid him mind as she continued messily eating her breakfast. it tasted better than usual, as if Monroe had put in even more sugar than he usually would have.

Before sitting down, Monroe set the bowl on the table, going to the pantry to grab bread. Instead of just that, though, he also brought the whole jar of blackberry jam, setting it down gently on the table alongside the bread with a knife as he sat down. Nora stopped eating for a moment, eyeing the jar suspiciously. Monroe never let her decide how much jam to put on the bread, since she’d always try to use half the jar. Something was wrong.

“Nora,” Monroe started, clearly seeing that Nora was confused by the generosity he was extending, “I think we have some things to talk about considering… well, yesterday’s events.”

“Can’t we do this after your friend leaves?” Nora ceased her pause, digging back into her oatmeal for a moment before taking a hunk of bread and spreading a huge dollop of jam.

Monroe was visibly uncomfortable, though the pink-haired teen believed it was just because of how much jam she’d taken. She paused again, looking at the hunk of bread. “Sorry, I can put some back-”

“No no, it’s fine Nora,” Monroe interrupted.

Nora looked up from biting into the hunk of jam-slathered bread. “You’re acting weird, Monroe, what’s going on?”

Monroe’s forehead was visibly shining from sweat, though he quickly pulled a kitchen rag slung over his shoulder and used it to dry his forehead. “Nora, Mr. Zobek isn’t really here to see me.” He clammed up, looking to Mr. Zobek for a moment, as if hoping he would chime in to say something.

Nora was confused and beginning to worry. “What do you mean?” She questioned Monroe before turning to Mr. Zobek. “What are you here for?”

[Edward Zobek]

Edward sighed a bit, running his fingers through his beard as Monroe and Eleonora turned their gazes towards him. So Sir Monroe was passing the buck to him. He had expected the younger knight, since he was indeed acting as the girl’s surrogate father, to explain to the princess why she was going to be leaving her current home to travel all the way to Etruria with a strange old man, but it seemed that his rational faculties were currently being overrun by his emotions, rendering him incapable of being straight with the girl. It was understandable, but as someone who had been forced to bid all three of his blood-relative children goodbye on a far less hopeful note, it still struck the old knight as weak. But fine. Edward Zobek had been an officer in the old king’s army. He was the Viscount of Ligure. But most of all he was a father, so he was used to playing the bad guy with the situation demanded it.

“I’m here for you,” said Edward as he grabbed his breakfast and took a seat at the table. His movements were casual, unimposing, but his demeanor was as serious as ever. He looked down at the bowl and its contents. It wasn’t much, but it reminded him of the porridge the cooks would make for the men on a long march. Only here it was warm, and sprinkled with sugar. Simple, but delicious. The old knight grabbed the wooden spoon that sat in his bowl, and bringing the utensil up to his lips slurped up a good bit of hot goodness. As the warm food slid down his throat, he let out a satisfied sigh, then turned his attention back to Eleonora.

“I don’t believe I need to explain it to you, but I’ll give you both a refresher course in case you’ve forgotten,” he said, taking a second spoonful of porridge. “You are princess Eleonora, daughter of the late king of Etruria. You are the last surviving member of the royal family, that we know of at least, and thus you are the rightful heir to the throne of the Saint.” Edward wiped a bit of food out of his mustache then took another bite. He then pointed the spoon at the other man at the table. “You, on the other hand, are Sir Monroe Adel, a heralded knight chosen to advise the throne shortly before his tragic demise. When the false prophet’s soldiers stormed Aquleia, you managed to safely escape with the late king’s youngest daughter. You succeeded in preserving the royal line, and kept it safe from the hateful eyes of Kraft.”

The old knight dipped his spoon back into his bowl and took a couple bites, giving his words a chance to settle. Then he continued to speak.
“Well now those eyes are hunting you, both of you, more fervently than ever before. My name, Eleonora, is Lord Edward Zobek. I am the Viscount of Ligure, and a close friend of the throne. I served both your father and his father before him as a knight commander. For years since the great tragedy that befell the royal family, your family, I have been working tirelessly to see Kraft dethroned and the late king’s bloodline returned to the throne.” The viscount continued to eat during the natural pauses in between his sentences.

“I’m sure even out here in the corner of Pherae you two have heard of the fall of Ostia, how the false Prophet’s armies raised it to the ground.” Edward scraped the last bits of oatmeal out of his bowl into a final bite, swallowed it, then finished, let his spoon clatter into his bowl and folded his hands in front of him. “It was a devastating display of both Kraft’s power and the sinister plans he held for Elibe. Up until that point he had faced much resistance both at home and abroad, but that swift and merciless victory solidified his rule. Those who opposed him quickly silenced themselves out of fear of reprisal. Many men and women in my inner circle had lost hope of ever seeing the country we loved restored to its former glory.”

“But then a young Ilian mercenary serving in Sacae who had risen rapidly up through Etruria’s ranks defected. He turned on his master and when he did the men under his command turned with him. He launched an assault on the fortress of the high commander in charge of the false Prophet’s operations in Sacae, a man named Ariston, and through some act of Providence he won. It was an embarrassing defeat for the Inquisitional forces, and disrupted not only Kraft’s hold on Sacae, but also the stifling grip he had on Etruria. Resistance groups rose up all over Etruria, and Kraft had to cease his foreign endeavors to regain control at home.”

Edward looked down at his bowl and scratched his beard, taking another pause. He wasn’t exactly sure how Eleonora was taking this, but he’d finish speaking before he opened the room up for protest or debate.
“I can only assume Kraft feels confident enough, or perhaps desperate enough, to resume his foreign conquests, because invasion forces have begun to stir on the border and it looks as if they will march within the month. But Kraft hasn’t solidified his home rule as well as he’d like to think, and my inner circle, the Order of the Knights Radiant, have seen it fit to move on the throne. But if we don’t want to see another tyrant rise up in Kraft’s place we need someone to actually put on the throne. Someone the people of Etruria can rally around. Preferably the rightful ruler.”

The old knight gave a slight gesture towards Eleonora, nodding his head.
“That’s where you come in.”

[Nora]

“I’m here for you.”

Nora confusedly looked at their visitor as he sat down at the table, hoping she hadn’t heard the older man correctly. If someone had been coming to get her, surely Monroe would have warned her, told her this would be coming. How could he have hidden something like that from her.

The young girl was going to butt in and comment on the situation, but Lord Zobek’s ‘recap’ of their current situation shut her right up. What did he mean, last surviving?! Nora’s eyes zeroed in on Monroe, who wore the guiltiest, sorriest expression she’d seen the man make in her life. Was it true? Had her mother and brother’s suffered the same fate as her father? And it had been seven years since she’d last seen them, so how come she was just learning this now.

Tears began to well up in the princess’s eyes, but she stayed silent as Lord Zobek continued, staring at the bowl of cooling porridge in front of her as he described the whirlwind of events that brought him to Wilderose. She’d never realized there were seemingly so many who wanted to oust the Prophet, the man who tore apart her family all those years ago. The way Monroe made it seem, it was like the day she would get to go home and reunite with her mother and brothers would never come. Well, he was half right, the young woman supposed sadly.

All of this information was giving her a headache; it was a lot for the 18 year old to take in, especially since Monroe had sheltered her from so much since taking her in. But as long-winded at Lord Zobek’s recap of the situation was, he wasted no time revealing that, not only was he here to take her back to her home, but he even inferred that she would be the person to take her father’s place, that Kraft had stolen from him all those years.

Nora quickly looked up, incredulous eyes bouncing from Monroe to Edward. “Oh, no no no no. You’re not suggesting that I... There’s no way, absolutely no way!”

The young woman jumped up, the strong urge to run overcoming her. In that moment it didn’t matter that a myriad of people were looking for her, that they’d likely kill her on sight if they got the chance. Her father had been such a loving, caring, and charismatic man, and Nora… well, she was her! How could she fill those shoes, especially when she didn’t want to. Her brother had been the one being groomed for the throne, not her!

No, she couldn’t run again, but she paced away from the table, crossing her arms after running her hands through her hair. “I mean, why can you go find my brother?!” Nora exclaimed, whipping back around, desperation in her eyes. “He was just like Father, he’d be great at reuniting everyone like your Knights want! I can’t do all that! I mean, you said you don’t know I’m the only one left, didn’t you?”

“Nora, no,” Monroe finally chimed in, the seriousness in his voice bringing the magenta-haired girl’s ramblings to a stop. “They’ve been missing for seven years; people have looked all over Elibe. They’re not there to find.”

Nora could feel her eyes welling up again, but she ignored it, too angry to simply break down and cry. “Well, why didn’t you tell me before now then, huh? Why didn’t you tell me that Mom and Nick and Geoff might be…” The young woman’s speech trailed off, unable to say out loud that they were more than likely dead.

Monroe sighed, standing from his seat and walking over to where Nora stood. “You’d taken your father’s death so hard at the time, Nora. How could I tell you we had no idea if the rest of your family was safe? If I could go back, I would, but at the time...”

The magenta-haired girl threw her arms out, pushing Monroe’s chest as he tried to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t lie to me! You were a coward!” Nora cried out, storming again to the other corner of the room, as far away as she could manage from Monroe as possible. “I trusted you, and you’ve been lying to me all these years!”

“Nora, please,” Monroe pleaded, visibly upset by Nora’s outburst, “I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you at-”

“Best for me,” she glared across the room at the navy-haired man, cutting him off, “best for me?! How was it best to not tell me of my family’s fate? Or that one day he’d,” she pointed her finger at Edward while still looking at Monroe, “show up to take me back to Etruria, put a crown on my head, and make me some... some figurehead for fixing the mess Kraft's going to leave behind?!”

Tears had begun streaming down her face again by now, and with a sniffle the young woman crossed her arms, squinting her eyes to try and stop crying as she leaned a shoulder against the wall, looking out the small window in the door. “This isn't fair,” she said defiantly. “You can’t ask me to do this, not after everything that’s happened. There has to be someone else.”

[Edward Zobek]

“There is no one else,” came Edward’s absolute reply, though his face was lined with pity. Had Monroe told her nothing? Perhaps the young night, as well as he had done in keeping Eleonora alive this long, it seemed the man was not as professional as he had originally been led to believe. “If there was someone else I would have gone to them. The last thing I want to do is put you through more than you’ve already been through.” The old knight shot Monroe a disatisfied look, then looked back to Eleonora and shook his head. “But I cannot. You are the last surviving member of the royal family, and as such you are the only one who can rightfully sit upon a restored royal throne.”

“And please don’t think of yourself as a figurehead, Princess Eleonora,” Edward continued, trying to correct the girl’s earlier usage of a fairly derogatory term. “That is not my intent. The Knights Radiant are not looking to exert any influence on the throne. We only wish to see control of our country wrested from the usurper, Kraft.” The viscount made a sweeping motion with his hand, then balled it into a fist as he emphasized the word usurper. It had been many years, but even still, thinking of how Kraft had assumed power, and how he had had the hubris to declare himself St. Elimine’s Prophet, raised Edward’s ire. “You would be the rightful ruler of Etruria, in title, responsibility, and authority as it should be.” He nodded his head affirmatively. “Even young as you are, I know the people would still love you, if just for the fact that they would be ecstatic to be free from Kraft’s cruel reign.”

Edward realized he was whitewashing the situation a bit. Yes, many of the people would love her, and be happy to see a royal return to the throne, but once placed upon the throne she would have to deal with a multitude of Kraft sympathizers and power-hungry opportunists who would smell her inexperience a mile away and look to capitalize on it. Eleonora would need a strong circle of friends and advisors to help her weather the storm, but the old knight figured now was not the best time to be going into the details of what could go wrong.

“I understand that this is much to take in, and I understand your frustrations, but please do not take them out on Sir Monroe,” Edward continued, slightly changing the subject. “He has done well in keeping you alive and safe, and without his quick action and continued caretaking, we may have lost you to Kraft’s cloaks and daggers as well.” As much as the viscount knew that Monroe had brought much of this resentment upon himself, he couldn’t help but sympathize with the man. Sometimes it was hard doing right by those you loved, especially if they couldn’t see that doing right by them was what you were trying to do. He could see that the knight cared deeply for princess Eleonora, and he had repeatedly put himself in danger to see her safely home today. Even if not today, one day Eleonora would see that.

[Nora]

Still staring out of the small window in the front door through narrowed eyes, Nora quietly listened as Edward took back the discussion, confirming that she indeed was the only person who could take back the throne in the Prophet’s absence. The whole thing was incredibly daunting and hard to wrap her head around – how could she go back to Etruria, go back and do what Sir Zobek was suggesting? Sure, she often wished she could go home to Aquelia, back to the castle and back to a ‘normal’ life, but she always assumed if that day came, it would be with her mother and brothers, not her by herself.

As he continued, clarifying she would indeed be ruler – ‘queen’ over Etruria – Nora could have been sick – a feeling also brought on as he called her by her ‘proper’ name and title. She didn’t know what was better, being a pawn to Sir Zobek’s Knights as she’d rudely implied before, or actually having all of that authority and title over the citizens of her home, as Sir Zobek clarified. She could barely remember the lessons she’d received before being shuttled off to Lycia, and none of those had been focused on how to run a country, especially after they’d been oppressed by someone like Kraft for the past 7 years. And how could Sir Zobek assure her the people would lover her? Nora could see them just as easily being furious that wrestling back the throne took so long.

To add to that, how could Sir Zobek defend Monroe like that? Hadn’t he heard what Monroe had just said, that he’d been hiding everything from Nora for seven years?! Yes, he had helped in rescuing her yesterday, and of course he’d taken care of her since leaving Etruria. At the same time, the man barely let her interact with anyone outside of him and his few friends, and even then her conversations were so guided by Monroe that she barely said anything at all. He was controlling, always watching her as if she’d shatter at a moment’s notice, and it infuriated the teen.

The room grew quiet again, Sir Zobek’s words heavily hanging over them. Nora closed her eyes, breathing out through her nose and crossing her arms. Considering the dire state of things, was there even a way she could say no? If Sir Zobek was right, she was the only one who could do this. And even if she’d only lived there a little more than half her life, Nora loved Etruria and couldn’t imagine wishing any ill on all of those people, who had already been through so much. Her father had such a love for his people and for making Etruria great, and he wouldn’t have turned away from them in a time of need. So how could Nora now?

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” she stated matter of factly with a sigh, turning to look at Sir Zobek. Her eyes were still wet, but she kept her desire to cry from frustration at bay. “So what, you, Monroe, and I travel back to Etruria? I mean, that bozo Ephraim found us here somehow, so who’s to say someone else won’t do the same before we get there? Even if we do, it sounds like Kraft is still right at the head of everything. Me showing up on his doorstep isn’t going to make him shake in his boots.”

Nora pursed her lips, looking down at her bare feet. “I mean, how many of these Knights do you even have? Do you really think they can take Kraft and his men down when my father couldn’t protect Etruria from him?”

[Edward Zobek]

"We won't have to. Kraft will bring... no, Kraft is bringing his own ruin upon himself," Edward replied. His tone was one of absolute surety, of absolute confidence. "Of that there can be no mistake." The knight paused to let the sentiment sink in, then spoke up again. "Like I said earlier, the false prophet's power base is slipping. After the destruction of Ostia, Kraft’s supporters were emboldened with zealous fervor, and everyone was ready to see his forces sweep across Elibe like righteous, cleansing fire.” He shook his head, his grey, tied back hair flipping back and forth. “But that didn’t happen. Kraft’s advance was halted in Sacae by nothing more than a treacherous mercenary, but worse, Kraft left monsters in his wake. Monsters. You can only imagine the kind of stories that spread.”

“The people are turning on Kraft. The nobles and the bishops are losing confidence in 'Elimine's chosen', many even to the extent that they are building up their own private armies to prepare for his inevitable downfall. But that has not stopped Kraft from attempting another invasion. Whether he is doing so out of desperation, embarrassment, or just plain spite I do not know. What I do know is that by doing so he is extending his forces beyond their maximum capability.” With a slight pound on the table, Edward once again shook his head. “He does not have the might to take on a united Elibe, and he is gambling on the hope that Bern and Ilia’s war has weakened the two countries sufficiently. And when he fails, Etruria will face foreign retribution for his actions. Etrurian blood will be spilled, and the Etrurian people will be looking for a savior to rally around. That’s where you, the true princess and rightful ruler of Etruria, will reveal yourself. The people will cheer. They will look to you for guidance in dark times.”

“Your job will be to pick up the pieces of Kraft’s mess and rebuild our country. And our job, by extension, will be to see that you are readily equipped to do that.” He gave Monroe a knowing glance, then looked back to Eleonora. “I will accompany you to Etruria. The Knights Radiant have safe houses where you will be far safer than you are in this village. We will train you to fight. We will train you to speak. We will train you to rule, just as your father would have wanted.” In truth, Edward hadn’t known the girl’s father all to well. Her grandfather yes, but not her father. When the late king had been in power, the viscount had been busy dealing with his own affairs in Ligure. But if the man had been anything like the king before him, then the old knight was confident he’d be telling Eleonora the exact same thing he was telling her now.

“Meanwhile Sir Monroe will accompany your kidnapper and attempted kidnappers to Eburacum where they will be properly imprisoned and pressed into service. He has already agreed to this.” Edward nodded to Monroe, who in turn nodded back. "Which leaves your willingness to go along with this plan as the loose end." The old man's eyes were firey and resolute. He would not have said any of the things he did today if he wasn't fully commited. And he was fully commited. "I cannot force you to come with me. I cannot force you to agree to any of this. All I can do is promise you, and Etruria, a better future than either will have if you choose to languish away in this tiny little village."

[Nora]

Usually having more information on a situation made it easier to make a decision regarding it, but as Sir Zobek answered Nora’s questions in full she only felt more ill with every new detail he expanded on. The past seven years had clearly been ones that had kept Sir Zobek very busy, and the sheer force the Prophet forces could exert – leveling the capital of Lycia, posing for an invasion on Sacae... She didn’t forgive Monroe for keeping her in the dark, but she could begin to see why he had.

Still, Nora was having trouble grasping how much her life was going to change, if she went with Sir Zobek as he asked. The people in Etruria would look for her for security in tumultuous times, but Nora could barely handle arguments with Monroe. Kraft’s supporters would do everything in their power to make her disappear, likely kill her, which they’d almost done yesterday. On top of that, she’d have to leave behind Wilderose, her home for seven years, likely forever.

Well, the last part was actually a positive. Nora couldn’t stand being in Wilderose any longer, especially now that Monroe had been lying to her all this time, but she didn’t know if she could go back to Etruria either. Sir Zobek made it seem like such a dire situation, and even though he showed no falter in confidence with her or the plan, Nora’s certainty in herself was not in the same place.

But as soon as Sir Zobek mentioned this was everything Nora’s father would have wanted for her, Nora bit her lip, closing her eyes with a sigh. She could barely remember his face now, but Nora could still recall his laugh and his smile if she focused hard enough. She missed him so dearly, and even if Sir Zobek hadn’t intended to use the King as an emotional tug, Nora couldn’t help but want to live up to what her father would have wanted for her. He wouldn’t have wanted her to fade away here, would he? He wouldn’t have if he were her; he would have been jumped at the first chance he had to go back and help his homeland heal from her sickness.

“You’re right,” Nora said a short moment after Sir Zobek finished, both he and Monroe looking to her for an answer. She looked to Sir Zobek, ignoring Monroe still, though she did see a sad smile from him out of the corner of her eye.

“I can’t stay here forever, and I know Father wouldn’t have let Etruria crumble once Kraft falls, if he could help it,” she continued. “Just... tell me what we need to do.”