The Crown of Paradisus [PK]

[Frymark 3100]

 

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The bells of the city rang as a hooded figure walked through the darkened streets. Behind him trailed a single figure, hooded as well. At the other side of the city, the main street leading to the Hand of Horen was filled with people - and light, with each carrying a candle to offer in prayer to the sickened King.

 

The two made their way across the side alleys before finally clambering through a secret hatch - the two found them outside, where two horses were waiting for them. A nod of thanks to the soldier who was guarding the horses, and they set off, making their way towards Merryweather.

 

Instead of going to the keep which guarded the passageway beyond the Langkette, the two left their horses at Merryweather, then starting to make the arduous journey to the top of Mt. Godwin. 

 

They reached the top, where the ancient tower awaited them. As always, light emanated from inside the tower; the faithful having made sure that the candles never dimmed. Henry took off his hood, a sigh escaping the Prince as he gazed across the land.

 

“Wait here.” 

 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

 

Ser Gawyn nodded in return and turned his back to the tower, a hand remaining on his Longsword’s hilt.

 

Henry walked inside the tower, where the familiar site of the ancient crumbling statue and the freshly renewed prayer site and the painting that accompanied it. All in the small hall of the ancient tower were directed to the worship of a single person;  Saint Godwin of Aaun.

 

Henry signed the Lorraine and knelt, his hands crossed.

 

“Lord GOD.”

 

“I’m not sure what to say, Lord. I guess … I guess I have come to ask you for strength.”

 

“Heavy is the head that wears the Crown they say, eh? I don't know. Nobody understands.”

 

“But such is the life you’ve bestowed upon us. And we play our parts, for falling out of line means eternal damnation in the void.” 

 

“I..” He cut off for a moment, the Prince’s lips pursed in thought.

 

“I will be as you intended, Lord GOD. I will make this realm your holiest land on this mortal plane. I will scourge out those who break your law, burn those who defile your Church. I will … I will defend your faith, to the very end … For you are the only one who understands.” 

 

He took in a shaky breath as tears began to form in his eyes.

 

“Lord King. I will be worthy of your Kingdom. I will be as you were - No, I will be better.”

 

He raised a hand, slowly lifting it to softly touch upon the painted form of Saint Godwin. He ran his hand through the Saint’s face - which was oddly reminiscent of his own, as many had noted. His hand came to a stop as it reached the Golden tears dripping down from the Saint’s cheek. 

 

“I will be like you …” 

 

The Prince rose and lifted his hand to touch his own tears. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he had hoped to see something else than the tears of a mortal man. He wiped them off.

 

“Your Majesty.”

 

Ser Gawyn called from outside

 

“We should return to Whitespire.”

 

The King swallowed and signed the Lorraine, giving one final glance to the ancient statue of  Saint Godwin. 

 

“Like you …”

 

He murmured before walking back outside, where he was met by the radiant purple gloom emanating in the far distance from on top of the Hand of Horen.

 

"You never knew my dreams, brothers. None of you ever cared enough to find out."

 

He woke up, covered in sweat. It was a small room he inhabited now, the entire chamber smaller than the bathroom of the grandereus apartment belonging to the Lord of Alba. But he hadn’t slept there for a long time now. Henry’s hands shook - again. He had heard a daughter had been born to him … that was two days ago. He hadn’t left the chamber since. 

 

The streets of Whitespire were filled with an eerie silence as Henry and Ser Gawyn walked through it and out of the main gate. They took their horses and rode to Merryweather, leaving the horses there and climbing up the steps to the tower that stood on top of Mt. Godwin.

 

“Wait here.”

 

“Aye, Henry.”

 

Ser Gawyn nodded in return and turned his back to the tower, a hand remaining on his Longsword’s hilt.

 

Henry walked inside, signed the Lorraine and knelt. 

 

“Lord GOD.”

 

“You know what I’ll do. I have always believed that all we do in life is dictated by you. That our paths have been laid for us.”

 

“I failed, Lord. I strove off the path you intended for me. I tried my best, I truly did. We were on the cusp of peace, everlasting peace. But it’ll break. They’ll break it, even more with my absence. But I tried, and for this one fleeting moment, your Children knelt together before you to pledge loyalty to each other.”

 

“But everyone has their own Kingdoms behind their eyes.” 

 

Tears began to swell in Henry’s eyes.

 

“I did not love my wife as I should be, I do not cherish my children as I should. My mind, still, goes back to that one night in Florentine’s tavern. And I cannot get rid of it, no matter how hard I pray.”

 

“Lord King, I was foolish to think of myself as the second of your name. To be equal, or greater. You were the finest of us. I will rectify my mistakes, I promise.”

 

“I will go to your skies, and do what I couldn’t do in the mortal plane, from there. You have, for years, asked me to be your soldier, and I will.”

 

“Please, Lord GOD, do not punish Aleksandr, Adrian or Markus. While they have their secular needs, they are good of heart and they were truly my friends. Give them the strength to see the potentiality of unity, and if all fails, deliver your wrath. Give my people the prosperity they deserve, for Aaun has become your holiest land on this plane. And finally, Lord, do not let my family grieve the loss of my mortal body. Let them know that I will be with them, always.”

 

“For when the armour of your faith is buckled and torn, see in your mind that magnificent hero. Think upon his deeds and be humble, for his like will never walk the mortal plane again.”

 

Henry reached for his belt. He took out the Dracanium dagger given to him by the late King of Balian. He raised it to his forehead, and took a breath.

 

“For there is no more noble sacrifice than giving your life for a cause in which you sincerely believe in. And in the millennial history of humanity, there has never been a cause more worthy than that of Canonis Aeternus.”

 

He slit his throat open.

 

Maybe it was the Prince’s ailing mental health that had caused him to speak of his dreams and destinies so often, and maybe, it was just the rising gleaming rays of the morning sun,

 

But as Henry Alstion died, a golden tear fell down his cheek.

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

Hey, uhh, I'll try not to ramble too much, since I reckon all the important bits was said in the discord announcement.

I will, however say, that Henry was the most enjoyable character I had the chance to play. So big thanks to all who interacted with him, was cool.

I'll be taking my break from Lotc now; i think I'll come back before my conscription to play some random nobody, and thats because I do genuinely enjoy playing, I just have found (that like last time) I tend to stress myself way too much in a big leadership position. so dont let me do those again ty.

Not going to list names that much, but especially thank you to @ncarr for being my consort (for the little time), and I hope you get your chance to shine that I couldn't afford. And ofc @LithiumSedai and @EnderMaiashiro for offering me the char in the first place; I'm sorry I couldn't deliver as I promised.

And from the Legion to Aaun's council, to Stran, Minitz, Haverlock, Tiber, Augusten, Leopold, Reuss, Lewes, Alstreim, Warsovia, Boon & Bane - to all the other's who played in Aaun and worked with me while I was still the heir; thank you, you're golden and it meant the world.

Anyways, like last time I wrote a post like this (ironic), I'll see you around sometime, maybe soon, maybe (hopefully) not so soon.

 

 

Also FYI the build server will be online until 27/8

 

[ferdaboy 3488]

A lone knight stood sentry outside the tower for a day and a night, not daring to disturb the Prince during his time of reflection. Eventually, his faith in the Lord Alba faltered and he had decided to enter. Pain ached his heart as he lay eyes on his friend’s corpse, and in this moment of weakness he considered putting the entire tower to the flame. Instead, as his duty ordained, he prayed for the Prince silently as he rode home, his body wrapped and tied to the horse. He hoped Henry forgave him for the improper transport he was given. The Lord Tiber thought of all the dreams and ambitions Henry had, the careful planning and discussions he had been privileged to. Ser Gawyn cherished his time with the Prince, and perhaps he may serve him again in another life.  
 

He set Henry’s horse free as he reached the bottom of the Mountain, and returned home alone, with a corpse.

[ncarr 2806]

The Lady Alba's eyes trained on a lone rider entering through the gates of Whitespire, her lips curled upward as he neared her, unknowing. 

 

In a moment, her future was stripped away. Her children were fatherless, the husk of a woman that was left was in no place to be a shining example for the babes they had brought into this world together. 'We were supposed to do this together' she thought to herself as she silently followed, eyes trained on the corpse of her husband. 

 

For months after Adela awoke with nightmares of the Prince's corpse, she hoped to awake at his flank but the bed remained empty... the palatial suite had a certain coldness to it now, one that she could not shake. 

 

 

[Axelu 4333]

Hours before the news of the Lord of Alba’s passing, his youngest sibling, The Princess Augusta of Aaun, had been sat alongside Adela of High Peak by kindling in their private palatial lounge, discussing a matter of great importance. Augusta’s eyes always seemed to stir towards the flames, enthralled by the wipsy and warm-hued tendrils that seemed to call to her. Her ring finger trembled, as though weighed down by the supple ring encircling it against a higher force drawing it to the flames. Whispers emanated from behind her, stirring the finest of hairs from the posterior of her neck to stand erect, before the world went dark, the last of her sight in that moment being the murky countenance of her helpless sister-by-law whimpering over her. 
 

Wind pounded against Augusta’s face, with her garments thrashing violently. As she opened her eyes, darkness absorbed her periphery, the only source of light emanating from a sliver above her — where she had presumably fallen from. It was too distant, then, however, for any comfort derived from its existence to wash over her. A growing warmth gradually crescendoed against her back, and as it did, wisps of Augusta’s skin began to melt away from her dermis. The whispers trickling from behind her intensified, eventually evolving into screams - screams of hundreds, of thousands, who received no respite in this ungodly abyss. The most prominent among them was the voice of her brother, the Lord of Alba. 
 

Her eyes fluttered open with weak precision. No longer was she in the lounge, but rather, in the Palatial infirmary, entirely alone. In the near distance, the bells of Whitespire were struck various times, each pang born reverently after the demise of the last. 
 

Augusta thought of her brother’s screams, and pondered if there would come a time where she would only remember just his screams, and not his elegant voice, or his suffering, and not formidable character. At this, the Princess wept, inconsolable. She anguished over the people of Aaun most of all. Henry would never come again.

[Shmeepicus 4217]

An elder appeared shocked as the now grown man entered the Seven Skies. "So soon?" He queried. "I remember when you visited as a boy, so young and full of life." Was the statement given, having welcomed his grandfather to the Heavens a number of years prior. "It matters not, Henry- does it? You served Aaun well- and now, truly, you might find rest and peace." Alexander offered, a small smile forming over his face. "You were a good Prince- a great Prince."

[ErikAzog 3575]

King Adrian of Balian heard the news during the ball at the Hand of Horen, immediately he lowered his bottle of Carrion Black handed to him by Mikhail, the King frowned his mood ruined, not long after departing with his daughter the Princess Sibyl from the party and returned back to Balian, he isolated himself, the man tired never having to expect such troubled news. He looked out from to the beach thinking of their first meets and the times they spoke. Afterwards pouring the bottle of Carrion Black onto the sands. Thankful they had met.

[_Cactus_ 128]

Amir leaned against the tavern where he once worked, those maybe five years ago when he served the best alcohol in Whitespire. He opened a bottle of his own, taking a sip. "We never got to go on that boating trip, did we princey?" He sighed, staring at his drink. "I can't- even remember the last words we said to one another." - "Dios.." He buried his face into his empty hand, slumping to the ground. "I can barely remember your face." He bowed his head. "Wish I had been a better friend, I wish I didn't run off." He took another glug of the drink. "Left you alone with all this weight to bear." He reminisced the times they talked, though rare and far gone. 

 

"Heh... it's funny." He smiled. "I didn't think you were the prince for the longest time... just some fancy tío." He snorted, stifling a chuckle. "You were kinder, less stuck up than I imagined a prince to be." His smile waned. "There is so much I still wish I had gotten to know." 

 

After many minutes, he stood, looking around the empty streets of Whitespire. "You were a good man, Henry. One of the best." He leaned his head back to finish his glass, stumbling a little. He sighed, "You always will be in my eyes." He admitted to the skies. "So I know, if there is a place of gods and buena gente, you'll be there." He lowered his head. "Even if I never greet you there." He hesitated a moment before he lifted his bottle in a sort of cheers, then walked off to go mourn at home.

 

Spoiler

As someone who was here for your first PK, pulls my heartstrings every time. I'm going to tell you this now, even if it is sorta useless, you do not have to say yes to every time someone asks you to play a royal or something. I know how stressful it is, I've seen how stressful it is. Maybe not on the scale of LOTC, but still. You deserve just a chill time, a chill character without many responsibilities. I can tell you it is liberating. So hey, if you ever want to come back and play just a chill person without many responsibilities, hit me up [im literally an expert at playing nobodies, lol]! Rest well, and eat waffles [or pancakes- or eggs if you don't like them, or bacon].

 

[Marshi 1184]

"The Crown prince Henry has passed!" The words echoed in Adelines ears as the entire palace went dead silent, only the voice of her Lady's attempt to console her.  The memories of their childhood began to play in her mind. She remembered how inseparable they were as children, how they shared secrets and their dreams, how he always would pester her about leaving the capital. The pain of her twins death began to weigh heavily on her heart. Overwhelmed by the guilt and grief, she collapsed from the emotional turmoil. "The Princess!" Cosima yelled for the court as the Princess Royal laid motionless in her arms. 


 

[amyselia 2962]

The ghastly figure of the Countess of Emalyne kneeled before the cinders of the pyre she'd erected the month prior. Her once-fortified mind had long since been lost to illness and an all-consuming plague of her wretched heart, yet in her dreams remained the image of he who had once so often been the flame & fire of her days.

 

This ode had been cultivated throughout the passing of the days since she'd heard the news, fueled by the various letters exchanged between them, which bristled eerily into the night air as the black of ashe reaped their memories to nothingness. 

Her youth was gone - her light, and her beauty. And so, too, was now gone her hope.

[EmiliainWonderland 2311]

Blanca remembered the Prince rather fondly. Reminded of the day they first met at the social season in Balian. 

"I lied to you far too much back then Henry, thank you for taking a neutral stance in the fight against my family and I, and not judging me harshly for my estrangement to them. Though we weren't close, you were a great friend in the times I ran into you. I'm glad we were able to know each other." 

 

Blanca was reminded of the prince she tried to get along with, always so aloof and strange in his mannerisms. She remembered the fortune teller who spoke to him and told him of his future, what a beautiful future it would've been to see her friend and her cousin Adela truly live a long and happy life together. Fate was a cruel mistress, and Blanca realized for the first time in a very very long time, perhaps she really DID believe in Fate.

 

She turned to her spouse, tears streaming down her cheeks with the words she'd never get to tell Henry himself. @ichigomaster98

 

"Having emotions is such a double-edged sword, isn't it Io? Maybe things were better when I felt nothing at all." Then she looked upon her spouse and thought of her children and shook her head. 

 

"Or perhaps having emotions is the best thing I could've ever asked for.... but in times like these.... I wish I were numb." 

[Mio 3938]

Aleksandr II mourned; yet he did not weep.

It was certain that no amount of tears would bring the Aaunic Prince back, and so none were shed.

Certainly, the now King knew that Henry wouldn't have wished for such. To mourn a death caused by ones own hand, it must've been liberating, the man thought. However, in the end, the path that a once Aleksandr Otto thought they would walk together upon -- he further embarked down alone.

"Rest well, Prince."