House Landon, Unicorns, & The Veil

Around the ninth day of the waning crescent moon of Boedromion,

First Year of No Kings

Year of Accord 3785

From the hidden papers of @Leandros Hieron, Scholar of the Ancient Library, who writes for the Hesan Empire against his will by day, but writes for the princess during stolen hours of the night. For the eyes of himself and if fate should someday have it, the eyes of @Princess Elara of Alendria.

The origins of @House Landon, once sovereign over @Alendria before the @Hesan Empire's annexation, remain a subject of scholarly debate and poetic speculation. Several accounts circulate among our archives, yet the most credible lineage traces its genesis to a union between a noble family from outside Alendria and an ancient Alendrian bloodline. The earliest records, etched in stone tablets and preserved in the Vault of Ginomai, describe the mother of the first King Landon as a noble Sphaira Phylax's daughter, joined in marriage to a lord from a distant and unnamed city. This foreign alliance, it appears, was not forged in conquest but in necessity—amid famine and the absence of a viable heir from the Dakolos line, the coronation of Landon was a secular and sacred resolution.

The fall of the Dakolos dynasty is veiled in legend. One tale, preserved in the Song of the Middle Sea, recounts their demise at the jaws of a @Scylla—a leviathan said to dwell in the deep waters. Though likely allegorical, the myth underscores the rupture that preceded Landon's ascent. A courtier of the time, whose writings survive, described King Landon as "the son of outer spheres," yet emphasized his maternal heritage as that of a true kore monokeros literally @Maiden of the Unicorn—a term denoting a woman of sacred virtue and divine ancestry. This poetic epithet suggests ties to the unicorn cults and maiden priestess traditions that once formed the spiritual backbone of Alendrian society.

Some scholars posit that the mother of King Landon descended from those who witnessed the sealing of the first blight—an epochal event referenced in Eremosi texts, though its precise nature remains elusive. While many noble houses claim descent from that era, House Landon is distinguished by its symbolic restoration of divine continuity during a time of crisis. Thus, the rise of House Landon was not merely a political solution, but a mythic convergence of outer lineage and inner sanctity, etched in both history and legend.

The Veil

@The Veil is a family curiosity. An ornate sword made in the style of an older age. It is the tradition of brides of @House Landon to carry the gaudy little sword during her wedding ceremony, defying modern fashion sensibilities. Some say The Veil was originally a wedding gift to some ancestor in the Landon line. A delicate depiction of a unicorn is etched onto the pommel. It may be all that it seems: an ornamental sword. Or maybe there's some greater meaning left to discover.

Unicorns

@House Landon is said to have descended from kore monokeros literally @Maiden of the Unicorn—a term denoting a woman of sacred virtue and divine ancestry. This poetic epithet suggests ties to the unicorn cults and maiden priestess traditions that once formed the spiritual backbone of Alendrian society. Some scholars posit they descended from those who witnessed the sealing of the first blight—an epochal event referenced in Eremosi texts, though its precise nature remains elusive. While many noble houses claim descent from that era, House Landon is distinguished by its symbolic restoration of divine continuity during a time of crisis. @The Veil could be a relic of a @Maiden of the Unicorn from history.

On the fate of House Landon

From the hidden papers of @Leandros Hieron, Scholar of the Ancient Library, who writes for the Hesan Empire against his will by day, but writes for the princess during stolen hours of the night. For the eyes of himself and if fate should someday have it, the eyes of @Princess Elara of Alendria.

First Year of No Kings

Year of Accord 3785

Behold the lamentations of my heart. I have read the sealed report twice now. Once as a scribe, once as a son of Alendria. It states plainly that King Theodor and his kin were taken to Konigsheim, the heart of the empire, and made to kneel before the emperor. There, they renounced crown and country. The words were recorded, the ceremony witnessed, the seal affixed. And then, as if the ritual were not humiliation enough, they were executed.

The magistrate called it closure. I call it cruelty.

There is no mention of Princess Elara.

The report lists "relatives"—a term so broad it could mean cousins, uncles, even distant wards. But the name of his sole heir is absent. Not redacted. Not crossed out. Simply not there. And that absence echoes louder than any decree.

I wonder if she was spared. Hidden. Forgotten. Or if her fate was deemed too delicate to record.

In the quiet hours, when the ink dries and the torches dim, I allow myself to grieve. Not just for the Landons, but for the way their end was written. As if they were a footnote. As if the bloodline of Alendria could be erased with a single page.

But history is not so obedient.

I hope for the Princess.