Chouxia before the 6 Years War (circa 1500 AE)

Prologue
It was a sunny afternoon in the city of Lyukin. The roads were cheerful, Crowds were cheering,
and trumpets sounded for the arrival of the Queen, for it was her 75th birthday. Her name was
Queen Alexandra I, of the House of Tarasov. She was the Queen of Minetkia, or the Minish
Hordes, for 69 years. Before this time, however, her family, the House of Tarasov, had a much
more intricate and intriguing story.

A long time ago, in 300 AE, The House of Tarasov controlled the Yunlerian Empire, which at the
time was a superpower, having control of Prodigia, Psycra, Heime, The Grand Duchy of Viles,
Conexia, Aetorumia, and the Minish Hordes. But gradually, they started to lose power. Many
principalities were seceding from the Empire, and after the Civil War of Yunleria in 501 AE, the
image of the Yunlerian Empire was so tarnished, that when Natasha Tarasov, the last
Tarasovian Queen of Yunleria and Queen Alexandra’s own great-great-grandmother, died in
950 AE, a war known as the War of Yunlerian Succession was fought, and the House of
Tarasov lost, eventually creating their own nation, and themselves seceding from the Yunlerian
Empire. They called that nation Minetkia, or the Minish Hordes. And so the House of Tarasov
had been ruling for 500 years. But back to the parade at hand.
Everyone was proud of Queen Alexandra and her accomplishments, or so most people thought,
for that parade would not be a happy one for long. Soon, out of the shadows, came a man, slim
and wearing a long, overbearing mask. Most people seem unfazed by this unknown visitor.
Slowly but surely, he began to approach the carriage that the Queen was in. Still, no one
seemed to notice. Then the stranger stretched out his hand to shake the Queen. Alexandra
seemed unconcerned, and put out her own hand. Suddenly, the stranger jumped, unsheathing a
dagger and plunging it straight through her stomach. She screamed in pain. “Quick! The Queen
has been stabbed!” the guards shouted. One guard charged at the masked man and sliced
through him. The masked man fell and died, but not without saying his final words. “The job is
done. Your Queen is dead. Long live Chaos.” the masked man said, collapsing on the floor. The
guard paused for a few seconds, before rushing to help with the Queen. The parade was
cancelled, and everyone was sent home.

At a Domudei (Hospital) in Lyukin, The Queen was laid to at least have some final words with
her closest advisors, and her 45-year-old son, Ivanko. Ivanko was tearful, great rivers of tears
flowing from his eyes. “Cry not, my son.” Queen Alexandra said weakly. “Mother?” Ivanko said
tearfully. “Don’t worry. I will live. And even if I don’t, I know that the kingdom is in good hands, in
the hands of my son. And even if it is not, it doesn’t change anything. Remember my son, do not
make the mistakes I made, the mistakes that landed me here. I know many say I am perfect, but
being perfect…” Alexandra said, pointing to her wound, “...lands you in the Domudei. Rule
wisely and justly, and if you live as old and as long as I do, then let it be in peace. Goodbye, my
son.” Then she closed her eyes. Ivanko started to bawl. “Mother… Please don’t go! Please! We
still need you, Mother! Don’t go! Don’t go…” The advisors gathered round to comfort Ivanko.
Then they took the body to the Moprogue (Mortuary) to prepare for a funeral.

At the funeral, almost everyone who was of noble blood arrived. Even distant cousins that
Ivanko did not know about came to the funeral. But there was someone who was not a cousin.
His name was Emperor Martin Vela Du Santos, of the House of Reina. He was the ruler of the
kingdom of Reina, which had existed since 100 AE. “Sorry about your Mother. Death comes at
unfortunate times. On the other hand, who dared to raise their hand against the Queen in the
first place?! I should have them killed! I shall te-” Martin tried to say, but Ivanko stopped him.
“The person you speak of is already dead. But who gave the order to kill?” Ivanko said. “It may
have been the Mages. They have been troubling your Kingdom for a while now, grumbling
about tradition or something like that every now and then. They obviously would have wanted to
remove the Queen, and put someone who would respect their views.” Martin suggested. The
Mages were immigrants from the north, from a lost Kingdom called the Druidic Order, that
mysteriously disappeared in 300 AE. “That seems about right. I was given a report that some
Mages were talking ill of the Queen and of Minetkia.” A personal advisor, Sergei, contributed.
“Interesting. Then we shall destroy them all.” Ivanko said grimly, blinded by grief and anger. But
still, somewhere in his head, he could hear the final words of the masked man.

“The Queen is dead. Long live Chaos.”

Chapter 1