The Last of the Duke's Sons [PK Post]

[FireCrimson 109]

The Last of the Duke’s Sons

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KONSTANTIN II, COUNT OF METTERDEN

8th of the Amber Cold, 1710 - 11th of the First Seed, 1773

 

It had been two years since the Scyflings had taken Aleksandr– two years since they had assaulted his home, put a knife to the boy’s throat, and dragged him away from his family towards a fate of unknown uncertainty. He gathered his things early that morning, as he couldn’t sleep the night prior. It had been far too long since he had gotten proper rest. Konstantin restlessly penned letters to all his children; to Viktoria, Elisabeth, Aleksandr, and Irene. With the rising sun of dawn, he left his family’s home with the expectation to never return.

 

He did not regret his decision then, but wished to see his daughters one last time before he departed. However, he knew that if he had done so, they would’ve convinced him out of risking his plans to search for Aleksandr. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and continued on. 

 

His sword rose as the only Scyfling he could find in the camp came rushing forth. He knew his son had to be near. Konstantin swung down with the grit of his teeth and clashed steel against steel. A few swings left the sword of his opponent crashing with the ground. The Count Metterden lowered his sword. Is it worth it all? He thought to himself. What if he isn’t here? What of my daughters, my family? Will my son be free? His thoughts came to a sudden end with a sharp pain spreading throughout his entire body, coming directly from his stomach. The Scyfling plunged the dagger into his mid stomach, and blood seeped out from around it.

 

The Scyfling withdrew as Konstantin collapsed to his knees. His hands shook from the pain as they came over his wound, to try and stop the rush of blood escaping him. As he lifted his gaze to meet the man before him, a sword went completely through him and showed the other side. A young man stood behind the Scyfling, but the blur of Konstantin’s vision worsened. His hearing turned to a ring, with the most audible noises being his heavy breaths and pounding heart. As the Scyfling fell dead and the other man approached, Konstantin’s eyes widened one last time before exhaling his last breath. 

 

 

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Letters were sent out to his daughters, and subsequently his body was recovered within the day by his youngest–

 

Viktoria

My eldest, it is a deep regret for me that I will not be able to see my granddaughter again, or my grandson at all. Since that damnable siege of Metterden, I have worried day and night over what might come of your brother. Had they killed him, had he been tortured? These were thoughts that constantly tore at my mind. I know that in all likelihood he is dead, but no father nor mother wants to ever believe their child has passed before them. You, as a parent of your own now, can understand the sheer dedication and protectiveness you bear for your children. 

 

I do not believe this is a journey I will recover from; not alive. Allow the succession to pass as though both Aleksandr and I are dead. You will now be the Countess of Metterden. Do not forget who you are, my daughter. I love you and my grandchildren with all that is within me. Make certain to tell stories of my name and that I always adored them, even if they may not remember it.

 

Your Father,

Konstantin Ruthern

 

Elizaveta

I am out to search for your brother. The first thing you must know, and must never forget, is that I would do the same for you if you were facing the same fate; and for both your sisters, Viktoria and Irene. My heart aches to think of any of my children in danger. I have little intention to return from this endeavor and doubt that I will. The necessary preparations have been made. 

 

Your role to play within the house has been greatly expanded. I hope you will have the courage, then, to meet what challenges will come at you. You have always been so proud and brazen, do not let who you are falter. And remember all I’ve spoken of on our family. You must keep them bound. I love you.

 

Your Father,

Konstantin Ruthern

 

 

Irene

My youngest, I have gone off to find your brother. I am terribly sorry I must do this now, and leave you and the rest of your sisters alone. However, I cannot bear to let a single one of you be harmed. I can only presume that your brother has passed, but it is my duty as a father to search for him with all that I can. This search may lead me to the same fate as your brother. 

 

I am sorry I will not be there as your life progresses onward– for when you are wed, as I wished to have walked you down the aisle. For both you and Elizaveta, I had dearly looked forward to that moment. But I know you will go on without me, independent as you already are. I love you.

 

Your Father,

Konstantin Ruthern

[Drew2_dude 2636]

Sigmar Baruch would shake his head, pulling out a bottle of Carrion black. “A Honorable man, I’ll miss ye mah friend.” 

[Eryane 3698]

Within the Novellen Palace, Irene Cecilia remained in her room the rest of the evening and the day after without once revealing her face elsewhere. She had gone to Metterden for a day to see her family, to find letters left behind by her father. And she did try to find him, to stop him –she’d recall– only to see her father’s body, the last remaining within the empty Scyfling encampment. As she teared up at the memories fresh in her mind, Irene attempted to stop them by distracting herself with historical studies and pushing away the last letter to her from her father.

[Zaerie 3747]

Reserved.

[Twandhi 384]

"It is sad to see a great patriarch go, but all good things seem to come to an end, may you rest in peace while we drink on your achievements!" Ivan would say before downing a bottle of Carrion Black.

[Axelu 4333]

A young daughter grieves her father, clinging to a wearied tunic of his.