The State of Broken Things

[Ivoreyy 2303]

The State of Broken Things

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A child darted about the riverbank. Barely past five years old, she moved with nimble efficiency- between each rock, over each puddle. The dirtied water crept up from the bottom of her gown, and yet, amidst her wind-tangled hair, her face showed that she cared little. She looked back from the riverbank to the two- her Mother, and a certain Simon Basrid. 

 

“Haye! Little leopard! A queen should not tarnish her coat!” Called the latter, beckoning the child away from the water’s edge.“What would her subjects say. Look! Even the beetles are laughing.”

 

“But I am their Queen, so I will live amongst them!” Mary stated firmly in response “They will love me for it. And someday, when I'm all grown up, I'll build them a big castle.”

 

“And what will you fill your castle with, my treasure?” Her mother added, grasping the girl’s hand “With beautiful maids and poetic young pageboys?”

 

“No” She shook her head “Those are boring, every castle has them. I will fill mine with other leopards, and beetles and tigers and birds. I'll fill it with people like Mister Simon, people who are magical.” She pointed him out, bringing a warm smile to the man’s face. “And when it becomes night, and all the animals and people go to bed- I will bring the fireflies into my room” The girl only grinned, eyes alight

 

“And they will dance with me, I know it. We will dance until the sun comes up again, and all the animals come back. Then, I will do it all again.”

 

---

 

Helena was a busy city.

 

Each day from dawn to dusk, man and woman alike would wander the length of her streets, going about their daily routines with a heightened sense of haste. The city never slept, as most would say, with each hour posing its own surges of lively action. Today held no difference, and as Mary peered down from her small apartment’s balcony- she observed the milling crowds.

 

In her hand she fiddled with her latest making. A pale green gown, one in which would fit her eldest girl. Her children were her pride and joy. A strange twist, as the woman had spent her every waking moment in her later youth sick at the thought of her own children. She had dodged marriages, many of them- content to build what she could by her own name, not by that of a ring and vow. 

 

And yet, as she looked upon the feats of her life; the pieces of the complex tapestry she wove each day- she was satisfied. A union in which had brought her precious children – those she could impart upon the knowledge she’d learnt in all her years. In their eyes- her eyes, she knew something of her would be left behind once the cruel hand of time claimed her as its own, as it had done so many others. 

 

Yet, that tapestry of Mary Philippa’s life was ever changing. Each time she sewed a new piece, she lost another. 

 

---

 

“Oh! Look at the view!” The aging woman chimed, gesturing outward from the balcony. Held to her hip - a granddaughter. The child, barely old enough beyond a babe, sported those same familiar grey eyes and chestnut locks. 

 

Philippa, she’d named her.

 

“It is nice, yes!” The girl concurred, smiling mirthfully as her gaze trailed the many buildings that could be seen. “This is a nice home.” 

 

Mary allowed for a moment of silence, simply gazing out across the city skyline. It was nearing nightfall, and the bustle of the square had only just fallen to a lull. “Your mother rules this city, you know” She chimed “Learnt that from your grandfather - he did too. Perhaps some day, little Philippa, you will as well. For it is in your blood and soul.”

 

“I will!” The child merrily chirped. “But… Mama has told me about you. She says you are not good. But you seem very good to me!”

 

Mary could only smile toward the girl. She reached forth, tapping her little nose.

 

“You're my living legacy, little one.”

 

---

 

Upon such a fine day, with not a cloud in the sky, it seemed the hand of fate had finally reached Mary Philippa d’Arkent. Her end was quick - crude, and painless. 

 

For the time had come where the woman was ready to die. 

 

And as Mary d’Arkent lay upon the frigid stone floor, dying, she pondered upon the vestiges of her life. Her business, her family, and her legacy- three core values in which the woman had strived to better in every waking moment. From the age of barely five summers, through sin and success in the same, each day had been a flightless struggle to prove herself worthy against those friend or foe. In her final moments, she allowed herself look back with a heartfelt sense of pride. 

 

Perhaps, she had accomplished what she set out to do those years ago. 

 

She thought not of what was to come next. For wherever Mary’s soul was to go, it would certainly not be the blessed light of the Seven Skies.

 

MARY PHILIPPA D’ARKENT

1730-1778

 

---

 

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF 

-=-

MARY PHILIPPA D’ARKENT

 

I, Mary Philippa D’Arkent, being of sound mind and memory do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my last Will and Testament. The execution of this Will shall be overseen by my Father, the Duke Sunholdt, John d’Arkent.

 

1. PROPERTY

Personal owned property, defined as my own store on 1 Merchant Street, is to be left in the possession of my daughter, Mary Lucille d’Arkent 

 

2. ASSETS

As my prime asset amongst my life, my personal funds (remaining after retirement) of  100,000 Imperial Mina shall be distributed in the following manner:

 

• To my eldest daughter, Mary Lucille d’Arkent, I leave a sum of 20,000 Mina. 

 

• To my twin daughters, Mary Vespira and Mary Jane  d’Arkent, I leave a sum of 20,000 Mina each.

 

• To my adopted daughter, Alpha Carrington, I leave a sum of 10,000 Mina.

 

• To my younger brother and favoured sibling, Peter Baldwin d’Arkent, I leave a sum of 20,000 Mina.

 

• To the Imperial Treasury, my prior place of work, I leave 10,000 minae, to be used in support of artistic and educational endeavours across the Imperium.

 

All other assets, be those located in my Helenic property and within my bedroom in the Selm Estate, are to be distributed amongst the aforementioned individuals: Peter d’Arkent, and my three daughters.

 

SIGNED

MARY PHILIPPA D’ARKENT, BARONESS-DOWAGER OF CARRINGTON

 

1st of the Sun’s Smile, 1777

 

[ErikAzog 3575]

Spoiler

Reserved

 

[Axelu 4333]

Tatiana Lorina had known Mary Philippa since their kindred young adulthood. They reveled together, became mothers together, and even became sisters by virtue of marriage. Even through their election of taking seperate paths, they shared a love through memory. As the Bihari Princess spectated the death of the aging Baroness, numbness overtook her; a profound stillness, that in truth, would endure in perpetuity.

[libertyybelle 6187]

The young Baroness looked upon her mother’s still body, still herself as she pulled the sheet over the deceased.

------- X --------

 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else as a mother. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you, momma!” Stated the grey eyed girl, no older than six.

 

Her mother smiled somewhat, amidst her pensive demeanor “Not even Anne Augusta? Not even if you were to be a princess?”

 

“Nope. I would rather be a no one if I had to give up on you!”

 

 “And I, you.” She responded in turn “You're going to have the world-  Mary Lucille Charlotte d'Arkent. I'm going to make sure you have the world, and everything within it.”

 

 “I will make you proud.” The little Mary Lucille stated firmly, her words coming off rather intense. “I will. I swear on it. I will not let your name be forgotten. Nor mine.”

 

 “You already have, darling. And that's all I could ever ask for.”

------- X --------

 

As she recalled the memory of that day by the Selm library fire place, some guilt and heaviness sat on her chest.  She knew her mother was never quite as bad as she made her out to be, but the pain of her father leaving mixed with the neglect her elder counterpart exhibited,  well it had left a rather bitter taste in her mouth.

 

As she rested her forehead on her mother’s forearm she whispered a final goodbye.

 

“I hope I made you proud. That is all I ever wanted.” 

 

With that, the carbon copy of Mary Philippa departed from the Selm bedroom. Thinking fondly, for once in a long time, of the limited good time memories while she trekked back to her own estate. 

[Branchio 93]

Mary Jane held her mother’s hand as the woman took her few last breaths, thereafter, Jane would  take her older sister into her arms and hold onto Lucille. As Jane held her sister she thought back to one of the few conversations she had her with her mother, one about Mary Philippa’s own sister. Jane’s mother went on to speak about how remorseful she was for not being close with her own sister, Charlotte. Mary Philippa went on to say it was one of her largest regrets, and that sisters must hold onto each other. As Jane thought back to this she would continue to embrace her sister, rubbing the older girl’s back, promising herself that she would not make the same mistake her mother did. 

[venclair 713]

Eleanor Victoria was clueless of the death of a kin, her mind however seemingly lingering on the state of her aunt. She had saw the fatal incident, her eyes widening with terror. It was a sight she could not bare, and would soon haunt her. Once hearing news of her passing, she retired to her room where she mourned.

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Lorena Helvets would feel a heavy weight in her heart, having now lost her private wardrobe benefactor during the ever-troubling time of war.

[Lalosia 1000]

Spoiler

reserved

 

[sergisala 3451]

Sir Edward would pray for the soul of Mary Philippa d’Arkent before signing the Lorraine “I will miss you, old friend”

[MRCHENN 4741]

George Galbraith would receive the missive, alongside the 10,000 minae addressed to the Treasury. He’d briefly recollect the one day he met the woman, in his young days in the ministry.

 

”It is my remorse that I did not share the pleasure of being good friends with you, but you and your husband have done leagues for the Treasury, and for that- we are ever so grateful.”

 

He would sign the Lorraine, going to deposit the money in the account.