The Demise of Daphne Helvets

[zuziee 3219]

Daphne Helvets

A N N O

D O M I N I

1838 - 1848

The Demise of Daphne Helvets

A depiction of Daphne as an adult, painted in 1848

Dearest family and friends,

With a heavy heart, we must announce that, on the afternoon of the 10th of Sigismund’s End, our beloved daughter and sister Daphne Helvets passed away. She succumbed to the injuries sustained in a long fall; by the time the doctor arrived, the window of remedy had already run its course. We ask that the Empire’s citizens keep her and our family in their prayers as we mourn. Following family tradition, her body was cremated and her ashes shall be rest in a ceremonial urn.

 

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The Passing

 

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A frail girl with wisps of Helvetii crimson stood atop a balcony within the Cathalon estate. Her green eyes stared down upon a chaotic scene; Her eldest sister explaining how her mother’s assassin was lifeless, her other siblings crying or in silent brooding, her father shouting over all of it. A disconnected feeling echoed within the adolescent’s chest, her lips pursed.

 

From far above she gazed; though this was her typical vantage, this differed by the special pain that had taken hold. As her gaze shifted from the gaggle to the decorated walls of the manse, she thought about her cherished mother. She brushed a hand across her face; her thin frame began to sway…

 

A warm summer’s eve filled Daphne’s thoughts. In Redenford, the earliest years of her youth - perched upon her mother’s thigh, she aimed a crossbow and clicked the lever with tremendous satisfaction. The amount of potential she had at the time had felt limitless. But before the next summer came, her mother was gone.

 

From behind, the girl felt a force begin to press upon her back. The swaying girl continued to develop momentum. The force chanted in her ears “Fall, Fall, Fall.” Similar to what she had been doing for months, the girl followed the voices call. As a shiver ran down her spine, something escaped from her body. Then she came tumbling down, landing in the center of the group below.

 

Henrietta screamed out at the top of her lungs as Daphne fell from the sky and hit the floor “MY GOD! SHE JUST FELL OFF THE BALCONY!” Hysterically, that sister of hers cried out - “Oh my god, get a physician, she could have broken her neck!” as the woman persisted, Helton and Thomas, brother and father to Daphne respectively, moved the girl to the sofa. 

 

Sobs quickly overcame the group as Thomas ran from the residence to get a medic, panic clear upon the faces of all as the girl lay silent upon the couch, crimson slowly leaking from her mouth. Henrietta pushed her head to the adolescent’s chest, listening for the reassuring beating of her heart - even then it was unsteady, and grew only weaker. This was enough to bring her frenzied hope - springing into motion, she screamed at her brother. “Pay attention to me now, Helton - get me, um... Get me ice, lots of ice, we're going to attempt to, um... Ease her pain.”

 

In the back, younger Laurentina stood frozen for a second “What-.. Daphne? Daphne? DAPHNE!” she cried out frantically, only to be held back by Helton’s slightly shaking form. He waved a dismissive hand as the man tried to maintain his cool. “Laurentina, shut up, go get Gertrude - she's within the kitchen. Have her bring a bucket and rags. And ice.” from the other aspect of the sofa, Laurentina disregarded her brother. grasping at her older sister’s arm “DAPHNE wake up. wake up, wake up, wake up! Please!”

 

Henrietta pressed her palms to Daphne’s chest in a panic, before she started a consistent rhythm of chest compressions to keep her heart beating. Helton raised a hand to prevent Henriettas movements, shouting similar to his father, “Stop! Both of you, stop!” gathering himself with a harsh inhale “If you move her too much, and her neck is injured, she could simply die.” He turned then to the youngest, “Laurentina.”

 

Nearly without delay, the youth stopped shaking Daphne, turning to her eldest brother with wide watery eyes. “*******…” Helton grits his enamel. “Laurentina - Gertrude. go. Henrietta, keep talking to her.”

 

Henrietta moved out of the way, running a hand down her face “Daphne, my love - please, please do not. Please don't go.” she whispered underneath her breath as Thomas Helvets returned home with a medic and Theodosia. The small crowd parted so that the medic could get to Daphne. He placed two clammy fingers on her neck, and another above her mouth to check for respiration and pulse. Though she had stopped breathing, the faint pulse on her neck gave him a faint hope yet.

 

The three siblings, Henrietta, Helton, and Laurentina, held each other as they watched. Thomas stood solemnly watched before leaning down upon the words of the physician, “She is not breathing, and her pulse is getting weaker. I need someone to provide her breaths to make it to keep her heart going. If it helps, think of it as saving her life. If you can not do this then get someone else,” he said. “The breaths need to be spaced out by five seconds each.”

 

Thomas reached down to transport Daphne’s frame so that he could do what the doctor requested. As he did, however, a painful SNAP was heard. Every person seemed to freeze as alarm befell each person’s visage. Helton’s jaw clenched shut at the sound. He kept his eyes trained in his eldest and youngest sister's direction for a moment. Slowly he pressured himself to look in the direction of Daphne. Yet the doctor was already operating to remedy the scenario.

 

“Change of plans. Give her five breaths after I have carried out 30 compressions” then the doctor placed six fingers on top of each other pressing down on her chest hard to get the compression onto her heart. Laurentina screamed out then, and after a moment further, with a face that seemed to understand the cruel truth, whispered, “Daphne...?” The eldest Helvets subsequently croaked out:

 

“...Papa. Papa, she -.. She's gone.”

 

Funeral

Later in that week, the Helvetii gathered together in front a pyre, the collection of black-clad figures quiet as Thomas Helvets struck a match, lighting the pyre ablaze. 

 

Laurentina wrapped her arms around Helton as she grieved into her eldest brother’s shirt. No words were said, and most everyone else was silently respectful. It wasn’t natural to lose a sister at such a young age, nor was it comprehensible. 

 

Finally, as the body was eaten by the flame and turned to ash, did Thomas mutter “She shall be missed.” to the wind. He motioned with a brooding gaze for the maids to collect the ash and place it in an urn which had been created and labeled for his daughter. Though Daphne had been a quiet girl, her absence from the estate the next day was a stinging emptiness in their hearts.

 

 

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Signed,

The House of Helvets

Spoiler

OOC:

Formatting by Amyselia and edited by Bickando

 

Thank you fie and fishy for the chance to play Daphne! She was such a new, fun, and different character for me. PLus her floral closet was amazing. She'd be a garden fairy. 

 

[Fie 2520]

A certain Duchess stood by the gates to the skies. She could not help but to weep bitter tears upon being reunited not with her husband of twenty years, but with her second-youngest child. Whilst embracing the girl that died far too early for Leopoldine's liking, the lady lamented:

"O' my poor baby! Beloved daughter, it was not your time yet - it was not! How I wish you could have led a long and fulfilling life!"

She pressed kisses to the girl's forehead, determined to resume waiting for Thomas to come ‘home’. At least now she was not alone - and neither was Daphne.

 

...On the other hand…

 

Despite being tucked in countless times by Helton and despite being held tightly by her father, Thomas, Laurentina could not help but to stay awake during the first night after her big sister's fatal accident.
 

Pearls of tears and sweat ran down the Helvets' forehead. She writhed and kicked the blanket off once more - much to Thomas Andrew's dismay.

 

The Helvets shook with sobs as she rose up in the bed. Laura swung her legs over the side and slid down, a mere linen cloak being grabbed to shield her from the autumny air around their family estate. Armed with naught but a lantern, the grieving youth found herself in front of the flowers Daphne had tended to earlier in the day.

The week after was hard. Probably one of the hardest weeks she would ever have to live through. Laurentina did her best to try and put a smile on her family’s faces - with limited success. Truth to be told, she felt like crying, rolling up into a ball and just hiding from life - but she couldn’t. She couldn’t, for her family needed her.
And she needed her family. 

 

Her closest confidante was gone - and perhaps Laurentina may never be able to love someone as she had loved her older sister, but at least there were flowers to remember her by. 

[Herod 802]

"I told you we should've you put the Duke down to spare his children the suffering." Kaustantin intoned bitterly to Sigismund in the latter's office, the man still grieving the loss of his own daughter. He had heard of the youth's demise from the weeping Henrietta earlier in Karosgrad.

In his youth, he always looked on how unfair it was to see the demise of a parent where a child needed them most, yet as he grew older and lost a child of his own, he realized suffering and grief had no difference in whatever circumstance of death a family had to endure.

After his meeting with the King had concluded, the Palatine quietly made his way to his residence and sat onto his stool in front of his documents. A small candle was lit beside them, in the memory of his daughter. Kaustantin slowly added another candle to the table and lit it in the memory of Daphne, a child he hadn't known and yet still lamented and mourned her demise.

@Xarkly

[Fishy 1578]

Thomas Andrew sat awake the night of the pyre, unable to remove himself from the windowsill that had overlooked the spot the bonfire had once been held, now a smoldering heap of charcoal and ash. Water in his eyes, whether from the irritation of the smoke or the pain of a parent outliving their child, his heart ached yet again. It was the same black void of the night that swelled over the land like all those years ago, first his mother on the eve of the Nordling War decades past, then his beloved wife Leopoldine some five years ago, and now finally one of his youngest, Daphne, a daughter and a laughter that would no longer bring mirth to his halls, gone now too.
Smiles were now all gone from the man, lost with the passing of that winter moon. All he could bring himself to offer now was the tortured expression of a cursed, haunted beast. That was all that Thomas Andrew could now offer the smallest of his children, Laurentina, a girl so young she never even knew of the mother that had born her. That winter would be a harsh one, he had thought, watching as the hours passed and the hoarfrost grew upon his window and the drums of war stirred in his ear.