A Centenarian's Passing

[func_Soap 410]

 

 

9th of the First Seed, 1597

 

‘100 years does a lot to a man,’ Alex thought to himself, looking out over the meadows that surround Aleksandria. With a glance behind, him in that moment remembering the name of the city-to-be, he begins counting number of generations of Stauntons that’ve gone by the years. ‘Six? Seven?’ he concludes, since his friends Percival & George at least, since Athera.

 

The realisation then hits him like a rock; it wouldn’t be either of the two [perhaps three, if the dragon (or at least, what he thought was a dragon) painting the sky with ash counts] that killed him, or the innumerable crusades of Athera, or the constant raids in Vailor, or the destruction of Oren in Axios, it would have to be something mundane. Then suddenly, ‘what was his name…’ Alex tries to spur his memory to recall the hundred and… Hundred and what was it? Twenty-year old? Thirty? Hundred and thirty year old Orenian royal with magic.

 

‘Oh well… You’ve been alive too long anyway. Soon as the city’s done, you’ll go travelling,’ he declares to himself out loud with a certain resoluteness, though alone, only he can hear himself. He climbs to a stand and climbs onto his horse; no fields had been set out for the city yet, and he needed to busy himself instead of counting down the passing days, though he’d have to be quick, as spring storm was rolling in, and it was still far from warm.

 

An hour or two passed and the rain had begun to lash down, soaking him. A flash came from the west, followed shortly by the boom of thunder, causing the horse to rear onto its hind legs. Before any sense could be made of the sudden outburst, Alex found himself falling from the back of the horse, he knew he wouldn’t see the city finished. The only feeling, disappointment. And with a sickening crunch, Alex’s head struck a rock in the path; he wouldn’t be granted a poetic or poignant death, a hero’s farewell as he rides out to battle or the quiet passing away of a well-loved grandfather, no… That would be too nice. Seconds felt like minutes, then hours...

 

Nobody arrived.

[WoodenApples 382]

Sven would dip his head in respect upon hearing of the death of his friend.

[Motjam_ 26]

Thobithos' spirit is overcome with a sudden sadness but then joy, his friend shall be reunited with him at last! 

[Gizzol 252]

Takes a few moments to light a small pyre for his friend "perchance the great mother will let us play yaw board game een thaw stars"

[Vege 4804]

 

 

The King scatters the ashes of his old friend atop of Mt. St. Tobias, looking over the new Kingdom. "It is from ashes that we come, and it is to ashes that we go. Fare thee well, old friend, you were truly the most loyal of them all." he says, as he watches the ashes disperse over the new city. 

 

"Natus ex cinere Imperium."

 

[mirofel9 84]

A councilman in a nearby city would pause his repairs due to the storm.  "Foul weather indeed.  A portent of something great coming to an end," he'd say and continue working in the rain as lightning flashes across the sky and into the north.

[Daisy 9735]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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