SHE WHO CHASED DEATH

[Zaerie 3312]

 

 

 

[All art by me]

 

The years that Viktoria was a part of, and the world she knew, it was surrounded by women that had no idea they’d make the world shake. They didn’t know that they’d change the world, and they all did it completely by accident. None had grand plans, schemes for power, or even yearned for influence. Growing up in these women's influence, in the wake of their actions, there was a large choice to be made by Viktoria. Watch from the sidelines and only be a mother, a prize, or to stand up and make ripples in the world of her own.

 

Viktoria never found out why Queen Maya of Muldav had chosen her to marry Sigismund, and she was never sure if she was glad it was her or not. In fact, Viktoria started out how she saw princesses in fairy tales, but not a Queen. 

 

She grew up in floral dresses, hoping of making a difference but never sure how. Strong willed but nervous. Slowly, the delicate slippers turned to boots, floral skirts to pants, and careful words to a sword and shield. The world Viktoria would take part in ruling would be a gruesome and dangerous one, and it would chew up and spit out a lace wearing weak girl without a second thought. So she made it rethink.

 

“I want to make a difference.”
“I want to do something big.”
A young Viktoria would once say to her father.

 

She had watched the attempted assassination of the boy-King from the crowd. Watched and the switch flicked in her head as she decided she must be able to do something, decided that being a good person with decent dreams wasn’t enough, and she’d never settle for doing nothing. The promises of a child to herself however, would soon be questioned.

 

The murder of Queen Maya of Muldav was sudden and unexpected, days after the coronation of her son. Viktoria found her as she bled out in her room, blood covering her dress and skin. Herself and Princess Amelya disposed of the body of her killer over the balcony- tossing him into lake Milena. Emperor Peter III would hear the news quickly, and come to the home of the woman he lusted after, a feeling not at all returned by the Late Queen Mother.

 

“YOU THREW THE ******* BODY IN THE WATER?”
The emperor screamed at the two young girls.
“PREPOSTEROUS! IT WAS ONE OF YOU!”
The two children cowered against the wall, as he turned his anger further on them.
“I SWEAR TO GOD ABOVE, IF I AM NOT GIVEN SOMEONE TO HANG, I’LL CHOOSE THEM MYSELF!”

 

The Emperor destroyed the room of the dead Queen. Broke furniture, slammed his fists repetitively against the stone walls, and continued to scream in his unwarranted grief. As quickly as the storm of an Emperor came, it left. The Barbanov family alone to mourn the loss, and a young Ruthern to fill the shoes of a legend at twelve. The funeral was rapid, and rainy. Those from all over the Empire came to pay their respects, and spoke in front of them all.

 

The next years were hard and awkward, Viktoria and her betrothed had barely spoken in the first place, and now there was no guiding light between the two. Only the promise their parents had made and a date; Her sixteenth birthday. They mostly floated around each other, Sigismund leaving Viktoria to take his mothers role in court and the palace despite not being married to him yet. It is said that the pair never fell in love, but joined together to fight the enemies of their Kingdom.

 

 

Soon after their wedding, the Scyfling invasion began. Viktoria turned fully into the warrior she became known for. Following the army into every altercation and battle she could be involved in, living in Fort Buck, and interacting with the soldiers. Some even say that the Scyfling war was the happiest period of Viktoria’s life, when she truly felt part of something bigger, and like she could make a true difference. She kept a secret through the beginning of the war, her pregnancy with her first child. Finally revealing it to her cousin before charging head first into a battle, the push through the Wickwald to save Valwyck. The Queen kept her condition a secret from the whole world, as she feared she’d be sent home, sidelined. When she knew she could no longer hide it, Viktoria went home. Her time at home would prove dangerous still, as an altercation with her brother in law, Nikolas Barbanov, a group of his friends and Viktoria would take place in the woods.

 

“Here if fine” he says, turning “The town is far too crowded.”
A group of armed men would surround Viktoria in the forest, wielding daggers and jeering at her.
“Halt amself!”
Viktoria would cross her arms, letting out a sigh as she kept her gaze on Nikolas. “Now what, Nikolas?”
Nikolas looks at the men, though his expression would seem rather unsurprised. He would look at Viktoria, speaking slowly “Vy lead the academy, but it is not the only place that lessons are taught.”
The group would brandish their weapons, making faces at the obviously pregnant Queen.
“The lesson I am teaching vy is that vy are not my superior. Vy do not command me. Vy do not touch me. For I vill take the hand that strikes me, whether it be from outside of Haense or within.”
Viktoria would look towards the man closest to her left, going to reel back and then punch him. The man would take the punch to the face, as Nikolas would snap his fingers and the group would run away
“Remind me to not go on walks with you, Nikolas.”
“Safe travels home, vy Majesty. Ve are even now.”

 

The war raged on for years, and Viktoria lost much. The Queen handled giving birth four times throughout the war, attending a naval battle the day after the first, a spear next to her pregnant stomach, shot, stabbed, lost an eye, and defended her countly home of Metterden twice, leading its defense personally in the latter instance. Despite her injuries, hardships, and faults, Viktoria was in her element during the majority of the Scyfling conflict, and enjoyed the brotherhood that came with the army. The long, and hard Scyfling war would evidently not be the hardest part of her life.

 

As Imperial tensions with the Sutican’s grew, and the Emperor declared war, Haense found itself in a situation it was most unhappy with. Their army was already fighting an invasion from the sea, but now was being asked to assist the Imperial State Army against Sutica as well. Evidently, this stress alongside past situations driving King Sigismund II to loathe the Emperor and his orders, ended in the monarchs untimely death by suicide. Leaving Viktoria alone pregnant with their sixth child, a Kingdom fighting two wars, and a nation divided by hate.

 

In an attempt to quell the citizens of Hanseti-Ruska from their cries of tyranny and distaste for the Empire, the Princess Imperial, Anne Augusta Novellen, and Prince Nikolas Barbanov trapped Viktoria in a conversation to coerce her into publicizing a pre-written letter. 

 

“I write from a place of loss and sadness. My husband, the father to our six children, and my king, has taken his own life. I miss his humor, his touch, and his role as a father. It is with great sorrow to see him gone, but I will cherish the memories he left behind.”
She read how the letter began, her stomach churning as she read wordings that’d clearly never come from herself. She was disgusted as she read it. How could they have misunderstood her this much?
They were trying to force her to write some sob story to save their asses from the anger of her people. Trying to use her grief and her story to quell their resentment. She would not do it. 
“How dare you. How dare you try to write something for me.” She snarled at the Princess and Prince.
“You could re-write it yourself,” The Princess Imperial answered calmly.
“That is niet the point! You know that. It’s niet about it being a draft, it’s about bringing me up here, and pressuring me for a decision on something you won’t even explain to me what you want, then having the audacity to think you know enough about how this feels to write a skuking draft of a public letter on it.” The widowed Queen would seethe back, as they continued to jabber towards her.
“I’m keeping this, it’s somewhat amusing how you think I think, Nikolas. And thank you for thinking that some sob story letter from me will change much, but I will niet be writing one.” Viktoria would stand after folding up the letter.
“For what purpose, your Majesty?” asked the Princess Imperial.
“For the purpose that I will speak on my own behalf, on my own initiative, when I would like to, for the purposes that I would like to. I would much rather move on with my life and focus on the future than the legacy of a man that left me with six fatherless children.”
Anne Augusta stood up immediately,
“To focus on the future is to write this paper, to move on is to write this paper.”
“He was a King, Viktoria. He was yours. You cannot abandon him now. It is your duty as a wife to defend his memory”
“HE. ABANDONED. ME!”
The echoing of the shout of anger would be heard across the palace, even by Viktoria's eldest daughter.

 

 

She never wrote the letter, nor did she give back Nikolas’ “draft.” She continued on, and gave birth to her sixth child, Franz Leopold, previously planned to be named Franz Nikolas by her husband. Viktoria would carry a new trouble with her alone, she was never truly meant to be a mother and now she had to raise six on her own, and give birth after their father was already buried in the ground. 

 

It was difficult, and Viktoria was out of her element. She focused more on her work as Deputy Palatine and helping run her child son’s Kingdom than raising her children, and they of course felt the consequences. She walked the world confused but determined, and felt like she was floating as she tried to find who she was again, as she was thrown into a role she had never wanted. Being alone, and a new type of fighting. Fighting her own instincts and wants, to run off and go to battle. She was a woman that never wanted to stay home with the children, but now she had six begging her to stay, to put down the sword in case they lost her too.

 

As her children grew up, Viktoria had kept them alive. She wasn’t a good mother, but she got them through for the most part. When the Inferi war began, Viktoria looked between her now half-grown family, and the opportunity to go and fight again. She chose the one her heart yearned for.

 

 

The inferi battles were terrifying after having experienced only nation or human wars. The inferi were larger, and scarier than any scyfling Viktoria had encountered. In the second battle she attended, the assault on Korvassa, a large creature knocked rubble down on the Haeseni group, trapping Viktoria and others below a pile of brick and shingle. Her daughter, Nataliya, dragged her out frantically once they were able to. On the Norlandic ship she was carried to, Viktoria lost an arm and a leg. She felt worthless, she felt destroyed. But she refused to be finished, and she refused to let it show.

 

“I accepted that this could happen a long time ago. We all accept that we can get hurt every time we strap on armor and step into the battlefield.”

 

With the assistance of her youngest child, Viktoria was fitted with metal limbs within the year. She did not miss a battle with the inferi. She boarded the same Norlandic ship that she had her arm and leg amputated, and fought alongside them as they attacked an inferi vessel, and overtook it as their ship sunk. Viktoria went to the claiming of Al’Faiz, and fled with the Haeseni as the city of New Reza was leveled by falling comets. She watched as her city and home was destroyed.

 

Upon the founding and construction of Karosgrad, the older Viktoria became confused and lost. She was still Viktoria, still the same fiery woman that refused to back down; but she wasn’t where she was meant to be. She stayed to herself in the last decade of her life, as her body slowly degenerated and metal limbs became harder to lift as she lost the muscle she once had.

 

Viktoria was fading away physically. She had a heart attack after the riots against the church in Karosgrad, and was confined to rest.

 

“I want to take a nap.” Viktoria said to Irene, who had been helping her since she had been ordered to rest.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Vik?” she looked at Viktoria worriedly, concerned for her sister.
“Ai.”
Viktoria laid down in bed, and awaited the departure of her sister, and then a few moments.
After the echoes of footsteps ceased, and the Queen knew she was alone, she groaned as she pushed herself up and out of bed. She didn’t reach for her carved cane, but for her sword.
Viktoria supported her metal limb with her old sheathed weapon, and made her way out quietly from her chambers, down the stairs, out through the grand hall, and to the gardens behind the city.
There, she unsheathed her sword and began to swing the cared-for blade against a tree, her remaining eye narrowed as she grew frustrated from her rustiness.
After a couple hours out in the gardens, swinging at a tree, or a bush,
Her breath grew more laboured,
Her hands began to shake,
And her chest began to ache.
The Queen sunk to the ground as her sword remained sticking from the ground.
“Viktoria!” Irene called as she rushed wide eyed down the path to her collapsed and unmoving sister.
“Viktoria!”
Her sister held her then, as she let out a few rasping breaths as her heart failed her.
Irene pulled the sword from the ground, and wrapped Viktoria’s fingers around its hilt.
“Irene…”
“Irene, I’m done, I’m ready.”
The Queen would give a small smile, and a final uneasy breath would be released.
The warrior queen had fought and lost her last battle;
Her own failing body.

 

 

Life is not some promise.
It owes you nothing,
No time, joy, or protest.
It is unfair, unyielding.

 

Death however,
Is much more reliable.
Affirmed, guaranteed.
Everything vowed to death,
Every moment assured to end.

 

The time is set, life will end,
No trades, deals, or switches.
You may think you cheated death,
But no one may.
Your end is coming,
No matter what you say.

 

Your lovers die,
Your memories fade,
Homes burn down,
Cities fall,
Friends say farewell.

 

Time is unwasted,
It’s not your choice.
It comes and goes,
Spend it well,
Because the end always comes.

 

VIKTORIA SOFIYA BARBANOV
1750 - 1802

 

 

 

[Eryane 3629]

[ https://youtu.be/mer6X7nOY_o ] 

 

“Viktoria?”

 

For what was a brief moment, Irene allowed her sister out of her sight. Although she knew not to, she figured there to be truth behind her eldest sister’s words when she said she was off to gather some shut eye. Only a second she figured it not to be much of an issue, but she was not in her chambers. Panic ensued, her heart raising, and she sprinted across the palace shouting for her. A simple joke or misstep, it must’ve been– knowing her sister’s utter stubbornness. Yet she saw no sign of her in the Nikirala Prikaz, and heard nothing from the servantry or passing courtiers. Suddenly, she found herself rasping out her sister’s name but to no avail other than her own echoes, “Viktoria!”

 

Everything flew by in a blur as she sprinted past the houses and bushes and red walls of Karosgrad without a second thought but her sister. Amidst the gardens was a lone wheelchair with no occupant, and Irene could feel the weight of the world come crashing on her. In the corner of her eye was a still figure, donning colors of black and yellow. Unmoving, Viktoria remained leant over her sword plunged into the garden grounds. She knew it to be true in a single sight that she was no longer with her; Irene had been warned as much that she had limited time with her sister. 

 

With no words to speak, nothing that would speak truth to her grief; Irene clung to her sister’s body and held it close to her own with a sudden sob. Yet she was wrong, Viktoria still remained by a thread and emitted her last breaths while she cradled her close. Should she beg her to stay? Should she scream for help, or rush her body to the clinic? Irene glanced down at her sister, knowing very well none of those options would do her any good so much as she wished it would. Irene reached out to pull the sword from the soil it was sunk into, and placed the hilt in her sister’s hand. Viktoria’s eyes slowly made it up to Irene, but there was no pain on her features then; only a relieved smile as she murmured, “Irene, I’m done, I’m ready.” Irene curled her sister’s weak fingers around the sword, “A warrior til the end, mea hausen.”

 

For no armies or esteemed swordsmen could level Viktoria the Warrior, only herself. 

Edited January 12, 2021 by Eryane

[Juli 1340]

Isabel paced down the dimly lit halls of the Nikirala Prikaz, her expression glazed as she left the residential after hearing the news that the Queen-Mother, her former mentor, had passed. Memories flashed through her mind, recalling her time as a ward under Viktoria when she was a young girl. She admired the Queen-Mother for her courage, following her around as much as she could in hopes she’d be able to be half as good a Queen as she was once her time came.

 

Her pacing eventually led her to her office within the palace before moving to the shiny yet worn set of armor that rested in the corner of her office, the armor that the Queen-Mother gifted to her before her wedding to King Josef. She raised her hand, brushing shaky yet delicate fingers across the cold metal of the chest plate, “Have I made ye proud, Viktoria?”

[CaptainHaense 1153]

Koeng Josef sunk in his chair upon hearing the news of his beloved Mother's death. A single tear streamed down his face, "Godan will receive you into the Seven Skies, dear Mamej. I only wish that I could have spent more time with you." The King lamented, spending the rest of his night alone, only empty bottles to keep him company.

[MotherLay 815]

    Juliya Ipera steps out into the Palace hall, oblivious off the news of her mother's passing. Stopped by her Aunt Irene, she quirks a brow, listening in to what she had to say. 

    "Nie she's niet." The Princess replies immediately after the words of death broke from Irene's lips. She was then beckoned by the woman to follow, and wanting answers, Juliya complied. She was guided into the ballroom where Irene stood there, offering an embrace. 

    "You will tell me that this is some sort of sick joke," Juliya demands weakly, ignoring the attempts for an embrace.

    "I am niet one to jest, nor have I ever been. Humour is niet befitting death." Irena replies, her tone serious.

    Juliya mutters to herself a bit as the truth sets in, though her gaze focuses on a woman making her way into the room with a latte in hand for her aunt. 

    "GET OUT!" The emotional woman shouts at the newcomer, anger building up in her tone as the harsh news hit her. Rather than listen to her shout though, the woman approached Juliya, offering out another latte to her, placing a finger on the Princess' lips to hush her. "Do niet come any closer, do niet touch me, leave." Juliya demands, dropping the latte out of pure uncharacteristic rage.

    The latte woman left the room quite offended, and it wasn't until she was gone that Juliya realized what she had done. Pulling a small handkerchief from her pocket, she kneels down beside the puddle, trying to wipe it all up with the now soaked cloth. Her produced tears dripped onto the floor that she was relentlessly scrubbing, adding more and more work to an already lost cause. 

    Not long after she had started this incessant scrubbing, she was helped to her feet and pulled into the loving embrace of her Aunt. "She is niet supposed to pass on yet... It feels as if she has just come back..."The mourning daughter cries, sobbing into the fabric of Irene's dress. 

    "She was ready, but that does niet mean that she doesn't watch from above"  Irene readily replied, trying to ease the girl's cries.

    "Why would she look over me? She barely knew me."  

    "Your mother was always closed off, but she talked about you all to me quite often. You were every bit of her before the war, Juliya And she loved that. She loved you." The woman responds, keeping her own composure clean, not shedding a tear in front of the Princess. They spoke for a bit longer before Irene moved off, leaving Juliya alone with the little Princess Katerina who had wandered in with the latte woman earlier. 

    Embracing the girl, Juliya relaxes softly, "Hold onto your Mamej just like this, 'Rina. Never let go."

 

 

 

Edited January 12, 2021 by MotherLay

[___siren___ 441]

Katherine Marie Ruthern would welcome her daugther in the seven skies. "Vy did good, dear." 

Edited January 12, 2021 by ___siren___

[sarahbarah 5008]

Ancelie mourned the fellow and former Queen. She reminisced on their memories, especially the ones made during the long, toiling hours on the Norlandic battleships in the midst of the Inferi battles. She particularly remembered the gruesome emergency surgery she had performed on Viktoria to keep her alive at all costs. Nevertheless, she had simply allowed a bittersweet smile to rest upon her expression as she held the memory of the valiant and brave Viktoria close to her heart.

[doreebear 601]

Nataliya Reza sat at the end of her bed, her bright sapphire eyes began to scan the letter her mother sent her. precious memories began to flood her head. "Nataliya, I want you to have this. It's is a gift from me."  The woman offered her daughter a kind smile before bringing forth a present, neatly wrapped in red, her favorite color. The Princess Royal gasped in excitement" OH! Spasibo mamej!" Nat then snatched the gift, tearing it open before opening the dark oak box. There, laid a dagger, engraved with wonderous designs, with the name 'Nataliya Reza Barbanov' engraved into it. "I love it mamej! spasibo!" the Princess then threw herself onto her mother, embracing Viktoria tightly. "You are welcome my little crow, keep this as a token, that you will do great things, and that I will always be proud of you." as one memory left, soon another came. Nataliya would be seen running across the palace halls with her childhood dog. "Catch me if you can Bruno!" The princess Royal then paused midtracks, the small girl began to pick up the sound of arguing, emitting from the upstairs. Nataliya stood idle, awaiting for what was to be said next, then she heard something she would never forget. "HE ABANDONED ME!" Queen Viktoria cried out in pure rage. "He. . Abandoned us. ." Liya inquired in a shaky voice, panning to her dog for reassurance, after a moment, the voices grew louder; Nataliya ran to her chambers, sobbing. "How could papej abandon me and mamej?!" she wailed, destroying, tearing everything down that was in her line of sight, before letting out a shrill shriek "MAMEJ!" Then, princess came to. The shout echoing in the back of her mind as it soon faded itself out of existence. . Tears began to flow down Nataliya's face like an unruly waterfall, bringing her hand upward as she gently sobbed into it. "I did nie' even get to say goodbye...I-I should've spent more time with her. . i should've been there when father left. . I-" She then clung onto the letter, reading it, over and over again until she could not bare it no longer. Viktoria's words from the letter would be branded into her mind "I know that I have not seen you in quite some time, and for that I am so sorry, my dear. I hated the idea of leaving things off there, because that should not be the end as it does not reflect my thoughts. I am proud of you, for going off to what makes you happy over duty. I never met your children, and I can’t say that I ever liked Petyr, but if you are happy then that is what matters. Be who you want to be, do what makes you happy. And never look back, because any crown or tiara will ever outweigh love and joy."  The Former Princess Royal then formed a bitter-sweet smile upon her visage, wiping a tear from her cheek before hoarsely stating "I love you Mamej... I can nie' wait to see you again. . . I forgive you. . ."

 

[garentoft 8352]

Franz sat in his bed, knees tugged to his chest. He stared at the Arcane Relay in the corner of his room, it had been made so he could have talked to his mother, yet he never got to set it up in her room. He took the letter she had left him, reading through it as tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, staining the paper with every sob. "I promise, mamej, I promise." He murmured quietly, before hiding the letter under his pillow, where it would likely remain forevermore. Despite having been ready to accept his mother's death for years, he still lamented that his children would never be able to meet their grandmother.

[Althea 177]

Althea had shed a tear for the woman, having remembered her giving her a job in Haense's tavern. "I may have not known her, but I respected her."

[Dhaelena 586]

Dhaen Grandaxe sat quietly in her office deep in the carved halls of the mountain. She mourned the passing of the famed queen and sent a personal letter wishing the future good health of the Haense royal family and her personal consolations from the dwarven people to those in the company of the Queen Mother.

[Nectorist 7347]

"If only I had known her for longer than I did," Franz remarks upon hearing of the Queen Mother's death, taking a moment to pray for the late Viktoria and her family. "It seems Death himself finally worked up the courage to visit her. No doubt she gave him a good sock in the face on the way out."

[MissToni 3487]

Katerina Ceciliya sat in her bed. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she heard the news of her grandmother. The girl having struggled with accepting the fact that her family could not always spend time with her due to other duties more important. She had resented them for it for so many years. And with Viktoria's death she felt regret.

 

"Why did I niet spend time with her instead of calling her names and seeking her out instead of waiting for her to come to me?" the girl of eight questioned to herself. Perhaps it was time to grow up?

[Coolcod77 586]

Manfred Barclay had been sat on his bed, recovering from his injuries inflicted by a frost troll only a saints day prior when a letter was delivered to him by one of his servants. "Viktoria." He said as his gaze narrowed upon the contents of the letter, his lips curling into a frown as the pain of losing an old friend slowly began to sink in. Manfred then began to think over all the past memories he had of his Queen, their time playing together as children, their time fighting alongside each other as adults and their conversation as aged veterans during the wedding of Princess Juliya. "I wish we had talked more." He commented as he allowed the letter to slip through his fingers before promptly falling onto the wooden floor of his bed chambers. "Farewell old friend." He said as he stared up at the ceiling of his bed chambers.

[Axelu 3691]

The Baroness of Woldzmir mourned her sister, consumed by an unshakable sorrow. She recalled their days nearly half a century before, sat beside a hearth accompanied only by each other and the lively  stories they would read. 
 

“How I mourn you, my dear Vikky.. and ache, despite our years apart, to once more find your embrace - yet I know I will not, for many years.”