pk A Mortal Coil, 1857

[Fishy 2709]

Spoiler

 

7th of Tobias’ Bounty, 1857

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So it came, another weary night for the old Duke of Cathalon. He had spent the eve pacing his halls, ever drained from the ordeals of recent years. Once he had all the piss and vinegar of youth, but father time had seen to that. His hand grazed over a dusty windowsill, recoiling as he took notice of the wrinkles that adorned the appendage. 
“All that you see before you is yours, dear. From the River Reden to the Petra, all that falls beneath the statue of the horse is yours.” He heard his mother say, recalling the touch of her hand on his brow and the golden tresses that would wreath him in an embrace. It was a simpler, boring time. It almost moved the Duke to a smile, were it not for the dagger that punctured his mind for daring to recall. Her death was but the first that he could not put right, the thought unsettling him as he gave a final look out over the hills dissolving into dusk.
Beside him now paced a phantom of his younger days, moving through the vaunted Cheval Hall. He sparred with the pottery as a boy, practicing his spins, twirls, and pirouettes as he had been taught. Below he saw himself drinking with friends, belligerent in his candor as he socked a bard in the mouth. He also saw his sister come and go, the presence of his elder sibling he greatly missed as she departed at last with an easel and wrapped portraits. 
Arriving at the door of his bedroom, he took a glance back to it all now. Where once had been visions of himself, he saw his children scurrying about the halls. In one corner his sons Helton Rhodes and Owyn Leopold quarreled, fighting over whose turn it was to shoot the arbalest. Another he saw his daughters Henrietta Therese and Francesca Ada fuss with their dresses and braiding each other’s hair. At the windowsill he saw Guinevere Amadea throw down a rope of bedsheets to escape for the night while Saturnina Cyrille fidgeted with her hands, contemplating tattling on her younger sister. Then there was Daphne Priscilla, no more than four at the time, cradling the newborn Laurentina Marigold wrapped in swaddling clothes. The Duke lingered there for a time, finding some small contentment before the beat of his heart struck like a hammer, pressing him on.
Within his room was darkness as he was greeted by a pale specter of a woman whose back was turned to him, Raven-haired, he knew it to be his wife Leopoldine Vivien and so the Duke moved to embrace his beloved. He imagined the warmth of her touch, shutting his eyes as tears sprung forth and dripped through the vision of his wife. Still, however, she did not turn to him. 

 

“You know this is not real…” she murmured to him,
“I know.” He murmured back, collecting himself after a few breaths. 

 

When the Duke opened his eyes the specter now faced him recalling every gruesome detail of the dead woman. She was devoid of eyes, peering at him with empty sockets that bleed over her porcelain skin, her neck ripped and torn open as if by some savage beast. Thus did the Duke’s torment begin and every image of his dead loved ones appeared within the room. The twisted form of his mother Blanche, broken by the fall she had taken. The contorted neck of his daughter Daphne who had likewise fallen from a height, unable to breath in her last moments. Then there was his eldest daughter Henrietta who had perished most recently. He had only seen after she had been prepared for the funeral pyre, but nevertheless the eerie stillness of her form was enough to unnerve him. So many were gone now, what a truly terrible thing it was for a father to outlive a child. Beyond the dead, however, the Duke saw a light come through in the windows of his bedroom. The landscape that had so recently fallen into the night was now engulfed in flame. In the shadows cast over the land, he saw the fates that were still to come, small horrors in and of themselves. The Duke shut the curtains and turned to the dead.

 

“I’ve had enough for the night.” He spoke aloud and they did vanish, leaving him alone in the dark. 

 

Shutting his eyes, the Duke made ready for bed, retracing his way around the room from memory. Outside he heard the whinny of a horse and the clip-clop of its hooves, no doubt one from his own stables, paying it no mind he crawled into bed. Thomas Andrew then laid down and died. 

---

 

R.I.P.
1793-1857
 

[DelaneyG 1279]

 

 

Helton Helvets always had a complicated relationship with his father. Try as he might to please the old Duke, the heir seemed to fail time and time again. He'd set out to do some scouting for a hunt at the request of the Prince of Providence on the fateful night.

 

"I'm going for a brief hunt, father. I'll be back tomorrow evening." Helton wasn't even sure if the old man had heard.

 

When he came home to find his father dead, the now Duke was unsure how to feel.

 

Circumstances had forced Helton to grow up quickly. Thomas wanted his son to understand the hardships of the world. To understand that nothing in the world was free, nor would it come easy. It was a balance between the harder parenting of Thomas and the more loving parenting of his mother, Leopoldine. When she passed, though, all that remained was the heavier hand of Thomas. He recalls when their relationship seemed to hit the point of no return. Helton confessed to his father who he truly loved. He received a beating. From then on, it was nothing but business between the Duke and his Heir. How to best advance the family. How to best serve Oren. They'd no longer had a personal relationship.

 

Now Duke Thomas Andrew Helvets of Cathalon was dead, and Helton could not help but feel sadness. He would stay particularly close with his sister, Laurentina, during this time. She was not there when mother was lost. She would not handle this as well as he or the others.

 

 

A letter was soon sent to the various imperial offices and peerages:

 

"On 7th of Tobias' Bounty, Duke Thomas Andrew Helvets passed away peacefully in his sleep. He will be remembered for his hard work as a soldier in his youth, and his expert statesmenship within the House of Lords in his later years. Duke Thomas stood for stability and traditional Orenian values and most importantly loyalty to Crown, Country, and Family. He will be missed. 

 

A funeral will be held in Cathalon next Saint's day with a traditional Angreni pyre.

 

Signed,

HRHelvets, Duke of Cathalon"

 

 

 

Edited January 29, 2022 by DelaneyG

[𝖂𝖆𝖌𝖜𝖆𝖓 740]

 

 

An aged Major sat down in the Rivia study examining the missive placed before him, shedding a tear as he read through. Moments later he set the document aside, locking the door he took a moment to contemplate the situation before him. The Duke was a good man, a just man. After a time of contemplation, the old Viscount called for his squire to ready his steed before moving to depart for Cheval Hall. He rode at haste. 

[ydegirl 2357]

Theodora marked one more down on her sheet of who she had outlived in the House of Helvets.

[Jokinghills 825]

Viscount of Darkwood, The Lieutenant Colonel of the Imperial State Army upon receiving the news would send the soldiers delivering it out and gaze at the paperwork on the desk waiting to be done "Seems like some reports will have to wait another time" he would note and speaking to himself once more "Damn it, why does death find the finest men so fast?" he would then proceed exit his office, heading for the nearest horse.

[zuziee 4004]

Daphne, so sweet and so young when she was toppled to her death, sobbed as her father entered the seven skies. She tried to be strong alongside her mother, but Daphne was never the strong one. They could once more be a family, even without Henrietta’s presence.

[Da_Emperors 1987]

The Prince of Providence took visit to the Duchy of Cathalon just the day prior. The eventful tour of Cheval Hall was filled with true beauty of what the Duke had created with his family. Pleased with the visit, he spoke with Lord Helton before his departure, “I should like to return soon, your invitation is accepted and most thanked for — a hunt within Cathalon.” Soon after the Prince took his leave back to the Imperial Palace in Providence.

 

When the news had been received the following Saint’s day of the passing of the Duke — the young man’s heart and mind would trouble him. “How foolish was I not to enquire of the Duke’s health, why did I not seek him upon my first visit to his lands.” He moved to pick up the quill placed to his desk as he penned letter towards Duke Helton to offer his condolences and prayers.

 

As he finished, he whispered to himself, “Another titan of the realm has fallen, may he rest well in the Seven Skies.”

[Minuvas 3193]

"A stubborn Valah if I've ever known one, but he represented his people well...let him have the skies promised to him...and leave us in peace" Remarked Minuvas privately.