The Sin of Ashpodel

Dawn broke as golden rays pierced the now red dyed sky, illuminating the walled city of Ashpodel. The wind carried on it the signature scent of grass and rain as a light mist settles across the great valley surrounding the city.

Rising from the center of the city was a great spire, a monument that gave view of the entire valley surrounding the city, and the 7 towns, and many villages dispersed throughout.

From a window high in the spire, a petit maiden gazed through a convex spying glass across the bountiful Valestar Valley. As her vision swept along the valley she spotted fruit trees of myriad colors, waves of golden grain, and the dark woods of Lyria, a place much more peaceful than its name suggests. Lyria, the girl's great great Grandmother, was the original heritor of the barony. Her affinity with nature magic and alchemy made her a distinctly unique noble. One whose title was claimed neither for glory in battle, nor by great wealth, but by esoteric fanaticism, or rather, as a bribe by the presiding Empire to prevent the objectively insane woman from singlehandedly destroying the empire.

Anya's eyes paused at the great wall posed outside the forest. The psychedelic arrangement of colorful fungi depicted a woman's upper body rising from a mushroom, her eyes bulging slightly from her head and spores with little smiley faces flooding the city around her in a multicolored haze.

Begone ye foul kings and queens. Nobles of empty heads and false virtue. I am Lyria, Queen of the Myconids. My voice shall ring across the land, and any whom bring bloodshed to my grand vale shall face destruction in entirety"

(I wonder what it's like... to care so much about something. I may only be 8 years old in this life... but that's still 30 years in total so why is everything still so grey?)

Anya found herself looking at the wall, the same as she had every morning for the last 2 years. She thought this land was beautiful as well, a genuine paradise but... she was trapped in her tower.

(Perhaps I could be something akin to a Princess, like the one in the tower with long hair from my previous world. I certainly wouldn't mind being rescued by a prince, a knight, a rogue... well anyone really.)

As the bell tower in the cathedral below her stuck the 7th hour, Serena swept into the little Baroness's room in a jubilant pink and yellow evening gown. While such oddity would have been cause for outrage in another house, Serena was a special case. And this day was a special case.

"Good morrow my dear lady" - expressed the elegant maid with a deep courtesy, "How may I serve her majesty on this fine day?"

The delicate little lady who had been so completely drowning in self-pity and painful nostalgia until moments ago immediately perked up to the familiar game.

(Serena... you are my heart. Be safe, be happy.) The young girl signed as best she could using the few words she and Serena had pieced together over the years.

As the light from the sole window illuminated the maid's face, her eyes shone red and puffy. Tears drenched the lace black scarf around her neck.

"My lady... I will never stop awaiting your return"

*Whooooooooosh*

A gust of wind ripped Arya from the window, pinning her hands above her head and pulling her head back until her eyes pointed towards the sky.

"Arya Valestar, you are hereby convicted of the Sin of Ashpodel. As a child cursed by God, may you find pity in the pits of Idunn and be gone from this blessed plane."

Beneath the tower stood a procession of priests, vicars, and the bishop of the neighboring region. 

"In the name of Eiara, the Voice of Heaven, may those who's souls are so putrid God has taken their tongues be dispatched by the children of the voice."

As one the procession knelt in prayer

"Eehemn Vashtra Liimer"

Two great magic circles opened above and below the girl chained in the sky by pure mana. They converged through bars of orange light, and the girl disappeared.

With this, many of the procession collapsed, yet no one cried for the sentencing of a young girl to a hell on Earth. Neither the family of Valestar, nor the boy she loved from afar. Only a maid, dressed in garishly flamboyant clothes and a black scarf collapsed to the floor in a mess of tears. 

"There is no heart in this city without you my lady. May a pox fall upon those who cursed you, and may light follow you, wherever you go. I will await your return until the end of time"

On this day the City of Ashpodel fell to the Church of the Voice, and the fate of the continent of Eiyodin was forever sealed in stone.