Post by Jean-Luc Deveraux on Jan 25, 2015 13:28:22 GMT -5
Lockewood was a lovely place. It was surrounded by verdant and lush beauty with plenty of evidence of its native bounty. Shelbourne was paradise on this world, especially for the food it gave to the whole of the nation. Many people were quick to discount farmers and their associated trades. Without food, a nation collapsed. To Jean-Luc, Shelbourne was the kingdom’s most precious duchy. To visit every now and then to ensure its security should naturally be considered part of his duty. And yet, he hated coming here.
It had nothing to do with the Gardiners. It had nothing to do with the duty which he had to perform. It had everything to do with the past. Every time Lockewood was even mentioned, Jean-Luc’s mind leapt backwards in time to the very moment he became Marshal of Archades. Granted, it was made official several days after the incident… but the moment the arrow sunk to Lord Grant’s chest, Jean-Luc knew his life had changed forever on that day. Jean-Luc had been forced to take charge of the situation. The blood of many had been spilled that night. It had been necessary, of course.
For the most part, Jean-Luc did not dwell on the lives he took. Lives were lost in battle, it was a simple truth of the world. Men died, Jean-Luc lived, and life went on. It was easy for him, since the bodies faded and bones whittled away. Yet, that was not so in Lockewood. There existed a poignant reminder of that fateful night. Jean-Luc had argued strongly with his brother on the matter of Casper Deveraux, but in the end, Alexandre decided to keep the boy hostage. Fortunately, the boy was cast away to Lockewood, rarely to be seen.
That time, however, was coming to an end.
It was a bright morning that day and the training session had gone as smoothly as it always did. After bathing and eating breakfast, Jean-Luc began his rounds of the Lockewood estate. It was not his duty to patrol the area, of course, but it was a habit that he never shook. On this particular day, he was moving through the gardens at a casual pace when he thought he … spied something. A bright head of hair, to be more distinct, that was like Deveraux in lightness but the shade was different. It was red. There was only one person that had such a head of hair. The young man seemed to be … watching people. Narrowing his eyes, his head slowly turned to see just what Casper was looking at.
@casperdeveraux
It had nothing to do with the Gardiners. It had nothing to do with the duty which he had to perform. It had everything to do with the past. Every time Lockewood was even mentioned, Jean-Luc’s mind leapt backwards in time to the very moment he became Marshal of Archades. Granted, it was made official several days after the incident… but the moment the arrow sunk to Lord Grant’s chest, Jean-Luc knew his life had changed forever on that day. Jean-Luc had been forced to take charge of the situation. The blood of many had been spilled that night. It had been necessary, of course.
For the most part, Jean-Luc did not dwell on the lives he took. Lives were lost in battle, it was a simple truth of the world. Men died, Jean-Luc lived, and life went on. It was easy for him, since the bodies faded and bones whittled away. Yet, that was not so in Lockewood. There existed a poignant reminder of that fateful night. Jean-Luc had argued strongly with his brother on the matter of Casper Deveraux, but in the end, Alexandre decided to keep the boy hostage. Fortunately, the boy was cast away to Lockewood, rarely to be seen.
That time, however, was coming to an end.
It was a bright morning that day and the training session had gone as smoothly as it always did. After bathing and eating breakfast, Jean-Luc began his rounds of the Lockewood estate. It was not his duty to patrol the area, of course, but it was a habit that he never shook. On this particular day, he was moving through the gardens at a casual pace when he thought he … spied something. A bright head of hair, to be more distinct, that was like Deveraux in lightness but the shade was different. It was red. There was only one person that had such a head of hair. The young man seemed to be … watching people. Narrowing his eyes, his head slowly turned to see just what Casper was looking at.
@casperdeveraux