The Rest Without Rust [PK]

[Demented_Delila 1118]

Luisa Klaire's glasses glint in the low light of her bedroom in the dusk as she pushes them up her nose. Brandt's handwriting had always been messier then her own, even since they were children. Her gaze drifts across the page and what meager smile she had prior slipped away. Her lips furrow into a thin line and her honey brown hues could not help but gaze across the letter thrice more, before carefully pulling it to her chest. 

 

To hear of her older brother's death shook her to her core, the aging woman sitting down slowly at the desk she shared with her husband, the letter laid before her. Brandt had, in every aspect of her life, seemed so untouchable. He had always been her invincible, reckless elder brother... And now, even that had come to fail with the passage of time. 

 

She felt nothing for several moments, simply sat there, shook to her very core as she is reminded of the mortality of man. She does not notice the barely there shaking of her calloused hands, years of delicate working having taken their toll, as she stood from the desk at last. There was a bottle of Carrion Black on the top of shelf of the wardrobe that she and Ruben kept for quiet evenings of reminiscing of what was and pondering of the future when their children were all grown.

 

Luisa took three glasses with her to the small parlor in their wing of the keep. One is filled but half way and sat out on the windowsill, overlooking the sprawling valley of green that surrounded Reinmar's keep. At last, her vision became blurred as the tears welled in the corners of her eyes, droplets leaving trails down her face. She sat alone there, awaiting for Ruben's eventual return to the keep from his daily strolls, so that they could toast Brandt together. 

 

For the first time since receiving the letter, she spoke aloud, her words shaking and threaded by the thickness of her Reinmaren accent, one she'd never been able to shake. They were the spares, they'd never been born to be perfect, and she accepted that as she prayed onto Godan for her brother's safety in his flock. Her words turn to ones she hoped that her brother would hear, with the half-filled glass left on the sill for him.

 

"Ich hope your name lives on for a hundred years or more, long after Ich have joined you at the gate, and the grandchildren of your grandchildren are re-enacting your victories in the stairwell of their Reinmar. Tell mutter Ich miss her, won't you Big Bruder? And let her know, Ich will be seeing you soon?" 

 

There was an empty seat at the dining table at the next breakfast, one which she had to clear  the setting from that her Housemage Companion had put out. It was a sad little whistle that the wooden fox would make when she put the plate and silverware back in his basket.

 

 

[Fionn__TWG 2616]

It was a long battle for Fionn once he was out of the fight and laying in one of the pews in the Reinmar church. To his left, he could see the body of the man who had sacrificed his life for his home, and a million thoughts rushed into his head. Thoughts of all the times he had with Brandt, and though there weren't as many as he hoped to have with the man, they gave him a feeling of happiness, knowing he got to share them with the man in the first place. "He owed me a stall in some foreign place." He thought to himself before a weak chuckle escaped his mouth. A few tears would fall down the man's cheeks, the first tears in a long while, from what he remembered. He raised his right hand up to a sort of salute, before muttering "St. Tylos guide you, Ser."

 

In the keep of Reinmar, Klaus would struggle to have a nap in his room due to the combined hammering of rain outside and the chaos of the battle. He would be fully awoken by a crash high up on the top floor of the keep. His curiosity peaked, he crept up to the room which the sound came from and peeked in from the doorway, only to see Aestenia and Alfred struggle to keep his grandfather alive, before he would finally pass on and presumably ascend to the Seven Skies. Klaus' eyes widened in disbelief as he saw Brandt die in front of him, and he rushed back quietly to his room, using his short stature and weight to his advantage as he made no sound, not even a creak of a floorboard. He'd jump back into bed, tears flowing down his face as he lifted the sheets over his head and mumbled to himself "Ich am just dreaming. Grandvater is still alive. He must be..." Klaus would eventually fall asleep, but alas, he would wake up to the same reality. His grandfather was dead, and he would never see him again.

[argonian 12836]

"Huh, you wanted to talk?" An old man in the Skies asks Brandt, "Oh right, the dupe. You greedy ****."

 

While too late to help establish total market dominance for Barclay Bargains, Tylos nevertheless endeavours to show his kinsman the top unpatched duplication glitches. 

[Rudi 1736]

Still dressed in dark robes, Heinrik Karl glanced over the aftermath of the latest outburst of destruction in their struggles with the hungry creatures from the northern wastes. Like his clothes it was the darkest year for him yet, losing friends and family he grew attached to.

 

The monarch peered over the land scar that reminded him of the particular knight. The drill, the sweat, the shouts in waldenian. But also the feeling of accomplishment and success when he trained with his late wife; the shared wisdom during officer tea time in his office.

 

Brandt was something he'd have considered something close to his father. Sharing advice and wisdom when it was needed and a strong grip to shake sense into someone. "Vermisst aber nicht vergessen." he murmured in the little waldenian he knew, before he departed. But also a small smile appeared on his face as he looked at the pole-arm in his hand.

[Sarven 1691]

*Marcus welcomes his former apprentice to the seven skies, awaiting when they can reminisce about times long passed*

[Althea 177]

11 hours ago, Diaolos_ said:

Lorenz Barclay left the battlefield early to attend to some serious unknown business of his. He was on the far left side of the battlefield aiding The previous Marshal Manfred Barclay and His cousin the sharp shooter Alfred Barclay. He excused himself that he needs to go at the near end of the battle with the trolls when there was only one left. he knew that his presence is unnecessary since there were more than enough soldiers to help kill this last troll. he climbed the hill he was on and upon reaching the top he glance his father Brandt and Bruder Cedric retreating after delivering a successful attack on the troll. he kissed two of his fingers and raised them to face his Father and Bruder and prayed to St.Tylos to watch over them in his absence. Later that day in the middle of the night, as he just walked through the gates clearly just finished his business, one of his brothers at arms whom he was guarding the gates that night recognized Lorenz, The guard frowned….. “Sir” The guard said pausing for a moment “I'm sorry for you lost sir….” he said as he glanced at the ground beneath Lorenz. Lorenz eyes widened greatly, he held the guard by his shoulder with a grib that would crush someone if he had more strength, Lorenz asked with a voice of someone who’s trying to be calm “......Who died…?” Lorenz asked after a few seconds of getting himself together….The guard responded almost instantly fearing that he angered Lorenz “S-S-Ser Brandt Barclay!” he exclaimed informing him with his father’s death…..The young man’s arms slided off the guard’s shoulders as he now formed an expression of sadness and regret. he stood for a few seconds then rushed towards the hospital, upon arriving the Hospital staff would greet Lorenz with sad expressions. he merely walked past them with not showing any kind of emotions. as he walked down the stairs to the morgue, entering the room he was met with a large figure lying on top of the table in the center of the room covered with a large white cloth. Lorenz approached the table after giving the doctor a nod to leave him alone for a few. with shaky hands he removed the top part of the cloth off his father’s face. as soon as he saw his father’s cold face the man that never showed any kind of emotions to anyone ever except three people Broke down, his whole body started to shake as he placed the palm of his hand on his father’s face… he leaned down giving his father’s forehead a kiss.. as he glanced down on cold face of his father, Tear drops started to splash on his father’s face as Lorenz cried a river for the being he loved the most and looked up to… few second in the future the doctor was about to enter the morgue she stopped as she saw the man Lorenz Barclay on his knees by the table crying like a little boy for the first time in 25 years. she slowly retreated with a word leaving the man to cry himself out. few minutes...after crying himself out he stood up with red eyes, he brushed his father’s hair back one more time and give him one more kiss on the head before covering him once again. leaving the room knowing that this was the last time he would ever see his father. Lorenz turned towards the person who he can cry himself out with, the love of his live Ava Sirsk, he used the keys he was given to enter her house quietly, for him to see her sitting on the couch writing one of her new books. upon seeing her he fell on his knees and started to break down, the woman rushed towards her lover hugging him as she already knew why was he crying….. Brandt sure made Lorenz what he is today. Brandt’s death left Lorenz with a huge scar that may never heal…

 

Ava was surprised to see Lorenz come through her front door, but she soon frowned then panicked as he fell to the floor. Rushing to him she hugged him, giving him little words as she tried to move him to her couch. Ava knew alot about losing family, and she knew right now that Lorenz should not be left alone.

[GMRO 5245]

The battered old knight Ser Boris var Ruthern welcomed his squire brother to the Seven Skies with open arms and a warm smile. "Vy did well out there. Yam sure vy have plenty of stories to tell, so come sit down and tell them!"

[Coolcod77 586]

A singular tear drifted down the cheek of a weary, aged veteran of many battles. "Brother, it was meant to be me." The figure spoke in a pained tone as he sat beside the corpse of his youngest sibling. "You deserved much more than this, this wasn't a war you needed to fight in, I started this and you shouldn't have had to pay the price." Manfred then moved to stand, lifting the Warhammer that Brandt never went into a fight without.
 

"We didn't speak as much as we should've, as much as we did when we were younger. You followed me when we were both boys roaming the fields of Reinmar and you followed me into battles where we fought men and demons. I could never repay you for all this but I will remain grateful forever. I will ensure that all members of our house know your deeds."

Manfred gently laid the Warhammer across the body of his brother, placing his hands around the shaft of the weapon. "Wer rastet der rostet." He then recited the words that all Reinmaren hold dear.

[MildStatic 157]

Adrianna would hastily take a seat upon a garden bench, shooing the maid away who’d delivered the letter to her as she tore into the envelope and anxiously read through its contents.

 

Her heart sunk.

 

“L'uomo che ha portato la pioggia…” Adrianna would utter as tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her aging cheeks onto the letter within her hands, “You have’a done it again,” she’d inhale sharply as though she was trying her best to maintain her composure. 

 

“Idiot’a!” the bella would shout, that fiery Illatian presence melting away as sobs escaped her, her hands clutching her letter fervently to her chest as she doubled over where she sat.

 

Done it again he had - for no rainy day she had endured with him could compare to the storm that wreaked havoc on her heart now.

 

There, she wept, a physical ache clenching its awful fist around her as she read and reread those words over and over again, as if hoping - this time he’d appear behind her and envelope her in those familiar, safe, and loving arms, embellished with scars and stories, and stick his nose into whatever she was reading that troubled her so.

 

Those arms that held her as they floated down the Oren canal in their youth, those arms that carried her home when she’d indulged too much (and just to show off that he could), those arms that carried each of their five their children, those arms that brandished polearm, sword and shield to defend the family and home he cherished so dearly.

 

“Ti amo. . .” she’d whisper, clutching herself tightly as those tragic realisations of the impermanence of life crashed upon her like a furious tide, sobs shaking the elder Barclay’s body. She’d never hold him again, she’d never hear his voice again, never wake up beside him again. Her God-given gift - the man who was her entirety, her pride, her bliss.
 

Not in this life, anyway.

 

“Ci rivedrò, amore mio!” she’d shout up to the cloudy Reinmaren sky, loud enough for Godan and all the heavens to hear. 
 

Edited August 3, 2021 by MildStatic

[Frymark 2791]

Inside the keep of Reinmar, a lone figure sat next to a crackling fireplace. Cedric sat alone, his eyes fixated to the dancing flames inside the fireplace. On his hands, he held an aged, rusty sword. It was called the 'Brotherhood of St. Karl Zvaerd', and it was the first real sword the knight had ever had. He still remembered, how his father had called him to the forge, saying he had a gift for the young boy. It had been the greatest thing the boy had seen back then, a real sword, forged for him by his father.

 

And all that had become of it was rust.

 

The Marian Knight trailed his gauntleted hand along the rusted blade, tears flowing down his cheek. His hands had started to shake of late. First, he had failed to protect Mariya, and now he had failed to protect his own father.

 

"Ich hope you were proud of me.." the man mumbled to himself, before rising up to his feet. He glanced at the aged sword, exhaling sharply before he sheathed the blade to the scabbard that was hanging around his waist. "Rest without rust, vater." the knight said, wiping the tears from his eyes before starting to make his way towards Reinmar's forge.