Welcome to the World of Feila!

ImageImageImageImageImageImage

New to the forum? Get started by reading general information about Feila and the rules of the forum.

Need help? Send a private message to RabidFox. The staff is always willing to assist users with questions and problems. There's also a thread for how to role-play.

Don't be shy. Feel free to start posting when you're ready. We have a friendly community that is more than happy to welcome you and invite you to role-play. And don't worry about all the informational threads! You only need minimal knowledge to role-play. There's no need to do lots of reading.

Role-players wanting to write role-playing posts under five sentences, see the One Liners board.

Check out our announcement forum, The World Court, for important information about what's going on in our community.

Want to chat with other Feilans? Check out our Discord server!

The War of Nobles (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post your own furry artwork and writings here. Non-furry themes are also allowed. Need writing or drawing help? You can find it in the Tutorials sub-forum, or you can post a tutorial yourself there. Role-playing advice can be found in the Tutorials sub-forum.
User avatar
RabidFox
The Great Fox
Posts: 6023
Joined: Wed Mar 15, 2006 1:06 am
Gender: Male
Contact:
Ireland

Re: The War of Nobles (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sat Nov 25, 2017 5:33 pm

##########

Surrounded by only his own energy, Arturur stood his ground, ready to dig in his heels. Nothing was going to break his back. Both hands were balled up in fists, and he raised his right hand, prepared to strike out with everything he had. The pixie closed his eyes, concentrating deeply. He thought about the main computer, thought about how it controlled everything, thought about how the gods used it to monitor their children. Everything they did, good and bad, smart and foolish. All of that was recorded and used to better Alastair. Every time someone smiled, every time someone frowned. Each and every activity done in each and every way. Limitless data pouring into the endless memory. Nothing ever forgotten, and all things weighed against each other. Arturur had to be clever. He had to use the main computer to overwhelm and defeat his opponents. No one could think as literally as the Prince. Only he knew how to truly connect his mind to the machines that carried out the will of the gods.

Since his first steps, he had been leading the world. As its last and permanent prince, every word he said and every action he made decided the fate of his people. Even in his youngest days, the computer was watching him, trying to predict his choices as best as it could. Trying to tie even the smallest differences to the greatest change. There wouldn't be much to determine from the beginning of his childhood, only a few noticeable traits that did not fit into the same mould as everyone else. But what was destined was so. And that was that Arturur would be the last in a line of princes and his father the last in a line of kings.

His reign had already began. Since he was a child, he had been making life changing decisions. The pixie had not understood it then, and even hated it. But as he grew, he realized more and more why his input was so desperately needed. The Old Ones could only control young daemons so much. Even the wisest of people did not know everything. The gods, as well as the Old Ones and the Guardians from the Edge, needed Arturur's special thinking to close the final gaps in fundamental and basic psychology. With this knowledge, mental illness had been vanishing at great rates, education was vastly improving, and government was growing its last roots. Arturur did not even have to explain anything. Amazing knowledge was apparent in his day to day life. Words created betterment, of course, but the effect was already so large and widespread just to watch his physical behaviour alone.

However, the gods, the Old Ones, the Guardians from the Edge, and all daemons who knew of the way he lived... they were all deeply upset. Arturur was a good person certainly, but they feared the illness that crippled him, the psychological turmoil that brought him great unease. He was always believing things that others felt outrageous. Yes, they could always accept it from him, yet they still didn't want him to think in such a way. It was their duty to take care of him, to keep him healthy. They wanted good health for all people, though, the Prince was obviously of utmost importance. Alas, they had not been able to find a humane way to remove the dreaded thoughts. They couldn't just beat it out of him. And even the Old Ones in their great wisdom were stunned to learn that they could not control a mere little boy! A special man he was, and special care was definitely needed. But all people could agree that, one day, he would make a fine regent. One day, he would rule as "King".

While Diego would always get that title back in time—It was his own personal destiny—the Crowned Prince, like all princes before him, had to have the opportunity to have that power. It was a necessary lesson for him, and he would indeed be carrying far more on his shoulders than previous rulers, who it was their calling to rule only once. Still, it had been the duty of Wendell to prepare him for this future, and when you were royalty and everyone around you expected a flawless performance, no matter how aggressive or assertive you could be, they would most definitely get inside your head.

Sponsor
 

User avatar
RabidFox
The Great Fox
Posts: 6023
Joined: Wed Mar 15, 2006 1:06 am
Gender: Male
Contact:
Ireland

Re: The War of Nobles (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sun Dec 03, 2017 6:12 pm

##########

A fever to a daemon was not an illness, but a strong, overwhelming emotion. And Arturur definitely had a fever in the way that daemons got fevers. His mind was scattered, and emptying at a rapid rate. He was in bed, eyes closed, feeling like he was being hit with a force beyond measure as had been the case since he had arrived. Now it was breaking him down, crippling his thought processes, and destroying his sense of self. It was like he was floating around, his existence barely contained. Like his spirit kept leaving the room.

Diego was beside him, trying as hard as he could to not just be a good father, but a father at all. He felt like he was terribly out of practice, only ever having had Abner to gauge himself against. All those years, he had thought that Abner was so much like Arturur, but it was almost as if the two had nothing in common. Other than being white pixies and doctors, Abner was this troubled, trouble making kid, and Arturur was seemingly just a strange blend of softness and hardness.

The Prince was either extraordinarily sensitive or he was dumbfoundingly nasty. Nothing he said was ever aimed to hurt another's feelings, but instead was mere rawness, a rawness so raw that no one could compute it. Honesty was the best way to describe it. Of course, Arturur was clearly troubled and he clearly loved to cause mischief. However, for a reason that Diego didn't understand, his son was not identifying as a disturbed, young destroyer—He wouldn't admit to any of it at all. It was like he was an entirely different person, someone that wasn't Arturur. And the Prince seemed to be fine with that, with obscuring his personality by never truly opening up. The rare times that he did, a person saw only the smallest glimmer of truth.

Arturur was not only the oddest little boy that he had ever seen. He was also the smartest person he had ever known. In Diego's eyes and the eyes of all those meeting the young Prince, they all saw a very powerful rock of intelligence. Arturur had to be quite clever to know how to hide himself so well. Most things he could never enshroud, being so simple minded, but the most interesting things he had a knack for keeping secret. Why he wanted to resort to shadows, no one knew, but if only they could see what cowardice that he held inside, then they would know who he was. They would know the man before them.

Diego reached out a hand and brushed back the upright spikes of hair on Arturur's head. The Prince had fallen asleep, unaware of anything but his own dreams. The King held his son's form in his mind, studying it. Nothing he could think of could make it all make sense. There was just this young man here, lying in his own bed at last. His own country, his own town, his own room. And right now, his own dreams. Diego was still so young himself, but he couldn't think of Arturur like anything but a child seeing the world for the first time. At least Diego learned. Arturur, on the other hand, never learned. Oh, he got smarter. And smarter and smarter and smarter. But the Prince was always like a very small child. His mind didn't work the same, his wording was very literal and kept hitting all these walls that frustrated him into silence.

And Diego was okay with that. He had always known that Arturur was supposed to be like a permanent kid, no matter how much he aged. Afterall, the King knew Abner, and Abner was like that too. But Abner was so much bigger than Arturur, and Abner could actually do something that other people could understand as thinking. Yet Arturur didn't seem to think. He seemed to live, and that was all. Like a little, little kid. He just lived. There was no sudden comprehension of his surroundings. He built up his castles of knowledge. And he just lived.

User avatar
RabidFox
The Great Fox
Posts: 6023
Joined: Wed Mar 15, 2006 1:06 am
Gender: Male
Contact:
Ireland

Re: The War of Nobles (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Thu Dec 07, 2017 7:23 pm

Chapter 6

Waters Like Moving Glass

User avatar
RabidFox
The Great Fox
Posts: 6023
Joined: Wed Mar 15, 2006 1:06 am
Gender: Male
Contact:
Ireland

Re: The War of Nobles (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Wed Jan 10, 2018 5:33 pm

"You are weak."

Came the voice.

"You are too damn soft!"

He said.

Arturur's eyes narrowed, filling with carefully contained rage. His eyes would not leave his, challenging him, challenging him to keep going into him with such ferocity and prejudice.

"You can't win this war. You shouldn't even try." It was Eugene, angry himself. Angry at Arturur for doing what he saw as basically screwing everything up. Making it impossible for real, true progress. Causing harm. Causing death... Bringing the end of an era to full climax before dropping off. "Get out of my way!" He roared, stepping forward a little closer to the Prince.

The white pixie said nothing, merely listening to the long list of accusations.

"You want to help people." Eugene calmed somewhat. "That's a very caring, kind, and wonderful thing. It is... But it's not working. Not any more. And when it comes to Asterterkin and Davin... you're not helping at all. You're just going to make things worse. You're going to get in the way and destroy everything I have worked so hard to create."

Arturur scoffed. What he had worked so hard to create!

"I have been planning." Continued the long-haired man, clearly intimidated by Arturur—Though, not enough. "You have an entire life of rules. But what I bring to the table... is essential to the survival of these two men! And not just them... All of them! You've had your chance! You never took it! What makes you cry now is... I can't stand it!" His voice shivered violently, breaking. He deeply cared for the doctor. He didn't want things to be like this. They had always been such good friends!

"Arturur... you take things too slow. You listen to everything they have to say, and then you try your best to make it all work out. You've done such a disrespectful thing. You've put the feelings of others before some of our worst patients. You've taught them to take turns and give into the emotions of stronger people. Weaker people. People who need more care. People who are more fragile. You've taught them to work together... not to focus on their own problems and revolve around the ones that really need the extra attention.

"Can't you see?" Eugene pleaded, intensely. Arturur wanted to cry. He tried to hold it all back. He succeeded. "They require so much more than you will give them. You want to cure them. You don't want to heal the injured parts of their minds. You want to cure them before they can even come to terms with their own illness. How is this a good path? How are you winning?"

"It's not about winning!" He could hold back no more, not this. "Psychology is not a game. You play this like a tabletop strategy RPG!"

Eugene roared. "It is about winning! You've made it that way!"

The white pixie was silent, then, "I have never treated people's emotions like a game."

"But you've turned it into... all of this!" Eugene's voice was breaking, shattering. He was being overwhelmed, unable to talk in clear words.

Arturur said nothing, agreeing with none of it.

"How will we ever truly understand Asterterkin's condition if you don't submit to the findings?" Argued Eugene, passionately. "You don't have to believe me. All you have to do is work with me. You're avoiding me. You're turning away every time we meet in the hall. You're locking yourself up in rooms just so I can't get to you. You're—"

"Trying to stay sane!" Asserted the doctor, determined to get through Eugene's beating.

"—filling up your head with lies! Giving into soft, helpless feelings that just keep us from making progress at this critical time in psychology! You're soft, Arturur! You're weak!" Eugene felt so good and yet felt so bad at the same time. "The hour is upon us! The change is here! The world is before us! I am finally surrounded by people that will support me! Not just Wendell... but all of Warren as well! They are not a fragile minded people. I have always warned you of this! They will not take your stance once they realize just what that stance entails. They will not give into the crippled heart in all of us that aches to give instant soothing to the hurting and the delusional. They will follow me!"

"My father will never betray me!" And Arturur believed every word of it.

Now Eugene scoffed. "You can't hide in those excuses of yours forever... You must come to the reality that is waking all around us, that is taking to the skies and launching into full flight!"

There was nothing. There were no words. There was nothing... There was nothing but anger and hatred and a need for air!

Eugene turned away, as if talking to someone else, and viciously pointed at Arturur. "This man gives a toy to a child that his father just took away from him, and allows that same child to run rampant over his father's authority!" Then he faced the Prince again. "Really? You think that such powerful and highly reputable men are going to let you make such dunces of them in front of their wives? Their children? We're not in Peasant Town any more! This is the centre of government!"

"I am the centre of government!" Asserted the pixie.

Eugene laughed, a short and mocking sound. "Not until you're much, much older! And you still must learn, no matter how much time passes, because until we are so old that age no longer matters, you will be overturned by any childish urge to rule this world by all those that make you look small! And small you are!"

"You take great pleasure in overstepping me." Commented the doctor, containing all of his seething anger for the man in front of him. He was very good at that. Very good at keeping everything in no matter how much it hurt.

"You take that hand, as inexperienced as the feathers of a newly hatched bird, and you gently touch the arm of a savage lunatic." Eugene's eyes were like two red hot coals. "You calm him. You give him understanding of his emotions, even of his logical processes. You tell him that there's nothing really wrong with him. That his problems stem from the same thing in us all that gets confused. It soothes him. You become his favourite person. And he turns against all the other psychologists, and he won't listen to any of them. Not unless they are in full submission to you."

"I imagine you'd rather me hurt him?" Arturur was barely loud enough to be heard over the pounding in Eugene's head.

"You are too easy." Said the long-haired man. He seemed almost insane with frustration. "You will never properly rule this kingdom until you understand your place in it."

"I would sooner die than say that my favourite jewel is an emerald, when it's really a blue sapphire." Bravely countered the Prince.

Eugene looked as if he would explode into a torrent of obscenities at any minute. "There is no place in psychology for someone that can't even curse in front of a woman without apologizing. You are an old breed, Arturur. You have too many morals."

"Long... live... the King." His blue eyes held in them his eternal soul. And in that eternity was the very fabric of his being.

Locked

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest