A Wilting Rose

[DelaneyG 1279]

 

A big thanks to Tnoy for writing this up for me!

 

 

To the average man of the Imperial Settlement, everything seemed calm, a day where it was business as usual. Loud strikes of a hammer came from the forge, the sounds of toil in the fields, the sounds of animals, the grunts of men as they train, and spar… Everything was as calm and peaceful as it usually would be, to the common man.

 

But, those who held more power, or were simply more well-informed knew differently. They knew what was going on, the tragedy that was befalling them, all right under their noses. The tent of Arthal Lowedge stayed quiet, with only rather important people going in and out.

 

Were one to gain entry to the tent, they would see a rather saddening sight. In a cot, lied Arthal Lowedge. The once proud warrior, now bedridden and sickly. If one were versed in the medical field, they would be able to tell it isn’t likely he’d make it.

 

Arthal stays on the cot, with a sickly cough and wheeze. So this is how it felt, then? How it felt to be on Deaths doorstep, about to raise your hand up to knock against his door? Perhaps, this entire time, he was mistaken. Looking back on his life, he now saw in perfect clarity what he caused.

 

Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes, allowing his life to flash before him. His zealotry to the One True Faith. He held no regrets about his unwavering faith. He sees shutting down Hanrahan Brae’s rebellion during Martial Law, removing those who tried to stir trouble. He saw the battle of the crossroads, standing stalwart beside Peter Chivay himself. And then, he finally understood why such a sense of regret was instilled, down so deep…

 

He knew how it felt now. To be dieing. He knew how horrifying it is. And looking back on his life, he sees all who he has caused to feel just like this. He sees the fear he instilled in people, how afraid he made them in their final, dying breaths…. And now, that he was in the same position as they all were, he felt true, genuine regret for causing it.

 

The flap of the tent opens with a rustle. Arthal opens his eyes, to see the new Emperor had entered, Robert Chivay. He comes and stands beside Arthal, and they speak quietly. The only ones that will know what they say that day are themselves. Robert stands and leaves, but not before leaving Arthal a gift; A singular White Rose, clean and untouched by war or taint.

 

 Arthal leans his head back again, holding the rose to his chest. He had already given his letters to be distributed, but now…. Now he had nothing to do but wait, and he could not wait like this. He looks over to the one last person who stands in his tent, Albrecht Horen.

 

“Albrecht, I don't want to suffer another moment. Come finish me, please.”

 

They exchange a few words, but in the end, it happens as he had asked. Albrecht drew his dagger and raised it up over Arthal, wavering and hesitating for a moment. Arthal nods slowly to him, and the knife plunges downwards towards his chest.

 

And like that, so ends the story of Arthal Lowedge. Not in a bang, but in a whimper.

 

[DelaneyG 1279]

 

 Albrecht Horen would go about, delivering letters:

 

Dear August Marshal Vibius De Sola

 

Sir, upon the return of the Chivay’s, the rose (Those were left, that is) and the greatest men Oren has ever seen, you decided to give me a chance to raise past my insubordinate and Radical thought process, changing me from an irrational meathead into a level-headed officer. When you get this I hope Rowan or Raigeki, whomever you choose, is ready to take my place.

 

You were my Superior….

You were my Marshal.

 

And you were my friend.  Personally, I think the third triumphs the others.  I wish you and your wife good luck, and good fortune for the rest of your days.

 

Ave Chivay.  Ave Oren. Ave Humanity.

 

Signed

Arthal Lowedge

CO of Second Regiment

Decurion of the Imperial Exercitus

 

 

 

 

Dear Lord Tribune Albrecht Horen,

 

When you receive this, I will be dead.  The only thing I request from you is that you do not mourn me.  I’d rather you remember the good times we had, and keep those memories.  Don’t remember me as the old, drunk cripple who could hardly walk up the stairs.  That is all I wish from you..

 

Signed

Arthal Lowedge

CO of Second Regiment

Decurion of the Imperial Exercitus

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the Rovin Family

 

The only one of you I knew was Jack, and I’m sure when you get this, he’ll be with me again after not too long.  In my later years, when we returned, I got to know Voron.  Voron, you are a bright young man, and you are capable of achieving greatness.   Keep on the path you’re going down, and I see great things for you.

 

Jack, my friend, I’ll see you in the seven skies, or hell, I’m not sure where I’m ending up yet.

 

Signed

Arthal Lowedge

CO of Second Regiment

Decurion of the Imperial Exercitus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Hammertruppen

 

When your new CO is reading this… I will be gone.  It /Should/ be either Raigeki or Rowan reading this to you.  Either one is fine to me, and you all should be more than Thankful.  You lot, Second Regiment, you’ve had your ups and downs.   You’ve put up with spies, insubordinates, and traitors.

 

But those of you who are hearing this letter.   You’ve survived, in most of your cases.   You’ve /thrived/ under these situations.   By following orders, staying true to the imperials, and staying true to the Emperor and Marshal.   You’ve achieved greatness.  I wish you all the best in the fight against scum.

 

Ave Chivay, Ave Oren, Ave Humanity.

 

Signed

Arthal Lowedge

CO of Second Regiment

Decurion of the Imperial Exercitus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

To Robert Chivay

 

Emperor Robert Chivay,  I’ve known you since you were a young boy.  Back when your father was Prince Thomas, heir to the Kingdom of Kaedrin, and your uncle was just a king.  Who knew that one day you’d grow up from having Kingly lineage, to Imperial Lineage.

 

I’m very proud of you, Emperor Chivay, and am proud to know I saw two Emperors from the greatest Orenian family in History.  

 

Ave Chivay, Ave Oren, Ave Humanity

 

Signed

Arthal Lowedge

CO of Second Regiment

Decurion of the Imperial Exercitus 

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

For the sake of convenience, news of this passes to Artimec, whom takes a moment to look once again at the patch of scarred flesh on his shoulder, a wound from the dead man's crossbow that never really healed.

"iheiuhii narne narneyem'ehya, we met as enemies but parted as allies."

[Redbaron™ 690]

Rowan's eyes grow moist as he sends off the letters him and Arthal had worked on.  Each one going to a different part of the city to their respected people and families.  He finally retires to mope in his tent, thinking of all the manlet scum they had slain together.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

Magnus roams about the new lands, giving a silent prayer for his commander, holding a warhammer as he kept wandering.

[Forkology/Sarah 57]

***

 

Constance's expression is unreadable as she is told the news. She beckons the messenger to leave her be with a quick little flick of her hand. As she watches him leave, the Empress grits her teeth as if trying to refrain from shedding tears.

 

Ultimately failing, she seats herself upon her bed, her nose scrunched up in clear anger. She continuously wipes her cheeks, though the wet trail of tears will remain for the rest of the day. Constance pulls her knees up to her chest. She feels like a child again, weak and emotional. She can't remember the last time she cried so hard.

 

Pressing the bottoms of her palms to her forehead, the poor girl can't help but remember the first time she met him and how intimidated she was. Her quiet fear of him did not last long as the two became fast friends. Images flash by of the pair eating apples in the palace garden and chatting about things she cannot even remember now.

 

She crosses her arms, propping them up on her knees. Her shoulders are shaking now from the amount of force it takes for her to remain silently weeping for her old friend. Better to do this now when I am alone, she thinks to herself, rather then in front of someone. "I thought he'd recover..." She mumbles to herself as she buries her face in the crook of her arm.

 

She remains like this for a while. Her emotions vary from anger, to grief, to joy from the memories, and ultimately back to anger and grief. After a good while the Empress finally stands, wiping her face once more. She must continue her duties and mourn in the quietness of her own heart. Constance sighs, squaring her shoulders and exiting the tent. 

[Ender_Panda13 78]

It took a bit for the news to hit a certain soldier in the first company, for he had been mining almost non-stop for the past day or two. When he had finally taken a break and left the mine, it had already been too late to say his fair wells to Arthal, they had started to already move to prepare his body for whatever burial was done in these days.

The shock of his death didn't really affect Alder, but the fact that he would no longer be there, with them, leading his drills and exercises was what truly brought Alder’s spirits down. As far as he had remembered, he had never played his music for his brothers, and that he truly regretted now that Arthal would never be able to hear it, though he probably would have chastised him for playing tunes instead of working. Still he opened the locked chest in his tent, and retrieved a dark brown wooden box from the chest, taking what was out of the box, Alder walked out of his tent and sat down under an oak tree. He stared down at the flute in his hands, the one his father gave him.

Arthal wasn't his father, he was the opposite to how his father was, but to put it simply, Arthal filled quite a bit of that hole in his heart that was left by his father’s death, but that hole was torn wide yet again, specially since he hadn't had time to say goodbye to Arthal.

And so he played.

It was gentle on the wind, a song his father taught him, a song his father often played when someone they knew had passed, Alder had only played it three times before, for his sister, for his mother, and for his father.

It was supposed to be played as a last song the dying would hear, but Alder had come too late for that, he only hoped that wherever Arthal was, he could hear him play, even a little bit.

The song filled the air around the camp until it was finished.

Then Alder retired to his tent, to mourn in peace, until he had to go back to the mine.

he promised not only himself, but to Arthal, that he would play his flute more, in his memory.

http://youtu.be/3ZA_UFn_sRk

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Raigeki Kato was not informed of his commanding officer's death, so he was left in shock to witness Derrick Rovin eating cake over Arthal's grave. A childhood hero of Raigeki's and as of recently a brother in arms, the easterner's heart was crushed. Others gathered around him to pay their respects to the fallen Rose and Raigeki sat before the tombstone long after contemplating whether people would remember Arthal once everyone else had taken their leave from this world.

 

He wasn't sure.

 

He sat at the tombstone into the night, muttering to himself as if holding a conversation.

[Draeris 3124]

*Flowers are send to the grave of Arthal, with a note attached to it.

\

 

"May the Creator give you the peace and harmony you have lost with your exceptional sacrifice to the true empire, may your name be remembered by all who looked upon you. There is no man who could compete with you, there is no man who has witnessed the horrors and glory you have. Your departure will scar and sadden us for eternity. Rest in my peace my friend, you have done well."

[Pureimp10 5691]

Ronald Cassius cries in his tent, his friend and business partner lost.

[Jibuis Winterborn (Vinnie) 72]

Vinnie Smiles "Good times, Amico.. A shame it had to end at that."

 

He leaves one lonely, purple flower at his grave.

 

"It was quite fun, I'll admit."

 

He places a small bottle of Vincenzo ale, with writing

 

"Compliments from the Bada Bing"

[Abeam 511]

And so, as in the days of old, Arthal Lowedge, and Alexei Nicodemus meet to drink and be merry as in the days of their youth.  In the afterlife promised to all Humans, to all sons of Horen, the two comrades of old meet with the heroes of the recent age, and all is as it once was.