A long, long, long time ago, the land of Birain had come under great crisis. The people had not yet been united under one ruler and were a collection of smaller villages scattered along the shorelines of the eastern continent with their own individual chiefs. When a calamity came down from the heavens, a great darkness overcame all of Birain. From that darkness came beasts and monsters, which ravaged the country and the people.

Hope came in the form of the goddess Tulilith, who saw the plight of humanity and came down to give them a message:

“One day, a great hero will be among your folk, one with powers unlike what you have ever seen and he will lead you to a brighter future.”

It was with this message, that the people searched far and wide, for ten whole years for their saviour that could save them from this pervasive darkness and the dangers that came with it. Far and wide did they search for this promised hero, until they found him, a simple hunter tending his bow in a place that would one day become the great capital of the kingdom of Birain.

His name was Ionian Laertes Raviseul and upon his defeat of the great darkness, he became king of Birain.

It was said that he was a strange man, with ideas and concepts many had never heard of before. Concepts which brought Birain much prosperity and growth. He was a peaceful man and led his people fairly and justly. The people adored him, their hero king.

But as with all good things do, they must end, and King Ionian Laertes Raviseul died, without ever having an heir.

Succession of the kingdom tore it apart, as many vied for the position that Ionian had left behind. Swords clashed within the halls of the castle where Ionian once lived. As blood continued to shed, the goddess Tulilith made an appearance once more, in order to quell the greedy hearts of men who coveted what was not theirs.

She declared that Ionian Laertes Raviseul would return as king. Not as himself, but as a new being. Reborn anew into this world; different, but no less strong than his previous incarnation. They must simply seek him out once more, for she would accept no other as king of Birain.

But how could it be proven that Ionian was truly himself and not an imposter? Surely many would step up claiming that their children only just born could be their king returned, in an effort to garner more power and prestige. For this, Tulilith had declared that to be a candidate one must fulfill one of two simple requirements:

“The one worthy of the throne of Birain will be a being reborn into this world. That can be proven by the colour of their eyes, as those who have been reborn will share the same colour as my own.”

With her first decree, anyone with clear blue eyes as blue as the goddess’, would be one with a reborn soul. A gem was gifted to those who would perform the tests, that matched the goddess’ eyes exactly. A gem that rested upon the scepter of the king to this very day.

Her other requirement became a second holy decree in which judgement was passed for a candidate of kinghood: Ionian’s old weapon, a bow, had been blessed by the three goddesses of fate. Rosileve, who weaved the future, made it so that only Ionian could string and draw the bow, or a member of his kin could, should his spirit not yet be ready to return. A failsafe, in case it was an age where Ionian did not return.

These were the simple requirements to become king and when the first reincarnation of Ionian was found, the people rejoice as peace would at last return to them. This cycle lasted for a few generations in which Ionian ruled in his new form, died and then would be found and crowned once more.

By the sixth iteration of Ionian, the bloodlines he left behind became jealous of each other. Being the sons and daughters of Ionian in his varied reborn existences, they all laid claim to the throne, stating that the way of seeking out Ionian’s new existence and placing him back on the throne was useless now.

Ionian’s bloodlines existed in six different houses now. Surely, one of them had more of a right to the throne than the others? So they all began to conspire each of them to take the throne for themselves.

First, the royal scepter was stolen when the search by the temple for the next king began. Each family blamed each other, calling the other unworthy until the scepter was found.

Next, the gem upon the scepter mysteriously changed one day. From the clearest blue, to the deepest green, a shade much closer to the second family’s bloodline. A ploy to sway favour towards their family. Of course, they were called cheats and scoundrels. Yet this time, the gem was not returned to its original form. Rather, every day for ten days, the gem of the royal scepter changed colour, making it impossible to judge by the goddess’ requirements. There was hope that it would return as members of the temple put pressure upon the great houses to return the stolen gem.

Yet the holy blue gem given unto them by the goddess was no longer anywhere to be found, lost.

 And so began the civil war between the six great houses of Birain that lasted to this day. Of course, there were times of peace, where a ruler rose up and kept the others under control, but there were just as many times when war among the factions broke out. Birain was a land of unsteady treaties within itself…

“…Right now the only families still in power are those of the first family, and the sixth family. The first family, the Raviseuls had been the ones in charge as one of their ascended the throne about 40 years ago. The sixth family, backed up by the smaller, less powerful factions, ganged up on them and staged a coup and it’s been a mess ever since.”

“Wow, I see…”

That all seemed very complicated and a lot to take in, Penelope thought as she continued walking alongside Yule. Tulilith certainly put her in both the worst and best place. Tulilith trusted that a country that worshipped her couldn’t possibly be a bad place for Penelope to start her new life, but then again, she must have bene very out of touch to pick a place known for its inability to get along internally.

“Thanks for telling me, Yule.”

“Hn.”

As succinct as always, huh?

“Say, Yule? You seem to know a lot. Were you a scholar or something before you ran away from home?”

“…It’s not a big deal. Almost everyone from here knows this stuff.”

“Oh.”

His tone of voice told her that he didn’t want her going any further with that line of questioning. Too bad, she wanted to hear a bit more about him, but it seemed like he would remain guarded with her. Well, it was good to know a bit more about the land she was in.

Well, that settled it; there was no way that Penelope would think to get anywhere near any possible bloodshed. According to Yule, the infighting hadn’t spread far into the costal areas, which was where they were. The road they took was headed to Ceralde, a port town. If Penelope so chose, she could take a boat to head somewhere far away to escape the possibility of getting dragged into war. After all, she’d only been alive in this world for less than a week and she did not fancy dying so soon and meeting Tulilith again so quickly.

Thinking on how to avoid the conflict, her fingers squeezed Yule’s in unbidden anxiety. Yule took notice of it, but said nothing as they kept on walking.

More hours passed as they traveled, the daylit sky turning into dusk once more. Neither Penelope of Yule could see even the barest hint of civilization. Stopping for breaks and going at a pace more comfortable for Penelope’s younger body meant they hadn’t reached their goal.

Penelope apologized as they found a spot to set up camp again.

“I’m really sorry, Yule. It’s my fault we haven’t gotten to Ceralde yet.”

There was barely any emotion when he responded, “Don’t be. I’m sorry for not realizing you’re just a little girl.”

“I’m not that little!” Penelope protested with a pout. “I’m ten! I’m all grown up.”

“That’s not even close to being grown up.”

“W…well it’s grown up where I am.” A fib, but somehow she couldn’t really mentally connect with the fact that she was in a child’s body just yet. She’d been almost 40 only a few days ago. Mentally she was a middle-aged woman, so for her, she considered herself an adult.

“Your homeland must be a very sad place if ten years old is grown up. Girls in Birain aren’t allowed to be engaged until they’re sixteen and that’s only with the permission of that girl’s parents.”

Oh, that was surprising. Penelope had the impression she had fallen into a world similar to some kind of medieval/fantasy novel.

“Is…is that so? So what age is adulthood?”

Yule huffed at her, as if the answer would be obvious.

“Majority is eighteen years old. This was established by one of the former kings, King Roosevelt Laertes Raviseul, after he was sworn in as a king, and adopted by almost the whole world as a widespread law. Seriously, you weird girl, you really know nothing, huh?”

Penelope bit her tongue, holding back something scathing from coming out as she knew the boy couldn’t help the curt way in which he spoke. Teen boys really were the worst at communicating, after all. She just set up the lamp for their camp and got to serving them rice balls again for their dinner that day (with a few raw, but pitted, olives shoved into Yule’s share because she was a little mad at him).

As they laid in the tent together that night, him taking the blanket while she got the bedroll, the little girl hoped she could find a way to learn more about this world and that the next day would see them finally reach true safety.