The Falcon Soars High

[IrradiatedGoose 305]

The Falcon Soars High

 

House Volkov

“Сила через верность, честь и семью”

 

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The passing months seemed to stretch endlessly, burdened with profound agony and sorrow, as each soul dwelling in the manor could feel the impending loss of Anya, knowing her time in this world was limited. The once lively manor now echoed with an eerie quietness during the past few saint's days, as everyone remained acutely aware of the precious time they had left with her. An air of worry hung heavy over the children, compelling them to behave in utmost reverence whenever they were in her presence, cherishing every moment they could share with their beloved Anya. Numerous doctors had visited the manor, each bearing the same grave prognosis: Anya's time on the world was fleeting, and her days were numbered, barely lasting until the upcoming saint's week.

 

Within the main bedroom of the house, a poignant scene unfolded. Several vials of elixirs and medicines adorned the room, each meticulously arranged with different purposes, all aimed at easing the woman's unbearable suffering. The concoctions held a desperate promise of relief, though they couldn't halt the inexorable decline of her weakened body. Day by day, Anya's physical strength dwindled, leaving her incapacitated and bedridden. The simple act of getting out of bed became an unattainable feat, her once vibrant vitality now a distant memory. With every breath she took and any slight movement, her body betrayed her, robbed of the vigor that had long deserted her weeks before. As her condition continued to deteriorate, the manor's inhabitants held onto the hope of alleviating her pain while also trying to come to terms with the imminent farewell they knew they would soon have to bid to their cherished family member.

 

As time wore on, Anya's body reached its breaking point, unable to sustain the relentless battle it had been fighting. The last vestiges of her strength were slipping away, as if surrendering to the inevitable. In her final moments, a bittersweet scene unfolded, as her devoted family gathered around her, forming a tight-knit circle of love and support. 

 

The air was thick with emotions, and a sense of profound sadness hung in the room. Each member of her family held on to memories and moments shared, trying to etch them deeply into their hearts. Anya's husband, a pillar of strength throughout her journey, held her fragile hand, his heart aching to see his beloved slipping away. 

 

Their four sons, each bearing a unique resemblance to their parents, stood close, their eyes filled with a mixture of grief and gratitude for the life their mother had given them. As her final breaths ebbed away, she was cocooned in a sea of love, enveloped by the presence of those who meant the world to her. And in that poignant moment, surrounded by the profound love of her family, Anya departed from this world, leaving behind a legacy of love and cherished memories that would forever linger in the hearts of those she left behind.

 

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It is with a heavy heart we inform everyone of the death of Her Ladyship Dame Anya Volkov, Baroness of Vorovda, Ataman of the Host of Saint Arpad, and Black Knight of Stran. The recent birth of her fourth child had brought too much strain upon her body, weakening it, and allowing a heavy sickness to overtake her. She was surrounded by her husband and her four children as she passed. Her husband, Ryba Volkov-Novikov, will act as Regent of Vorovda and the House Volkov, until Aleksandr Volkov rises to the age of 16, once he reaches 16 years of age, Aleksandr Volkov will inherit the Barony of Vorovda, and elevate to the head of House Volkov.

 

Signed,

His Lordship, Ryba Volkov-Novikov, Regent of Vorovda, House Regent of the House Volkov

 

[Caedis 436]

Ryba sent out the final missive, and retreated inside to his home. Everywhere he was reminded of her - And of course he would. She had built this place. From the walls, the cieling, the titles. She had built House Volkov to what it was today..

 

And Ryba would not let it fall.

 

He sat down before the fire. The house had been completely emptied of alcohol weeks ago - A necessary precaution - And one Ryba regretted deeply as he stared into the crackling flames.

 

"Dravi, mea simpa maj.. Ea love vy.."

[Jaslaw 602]

"Dame... shame that humans are blind to the powers of the world." *The wood elf comented with a frown as he finally ended reading the misive. Knowing full well that she could have been healed by eather a drui or a shaman likely. Yet, he was left to muse over the concept of the humans blessing. The fact they could acomplish so much in such a little time before passing on happyly blind to the destructive property of time. Fianlly colecting his thoughts a certain onion let out a sigh* "May she rest in peace... poor Ryba and the kiddos." *Being on his way afterwards, there was not much more to coment on. Besides having to make a mental note to check up on Ryba sometime.*

[Optimus420 1926]

The Former Duke of Stran frowned deeply at this missive brought to him by his son, he looked to him with pain in his eyes, "It is like outliving one's child. I promised I'd care for Anya and raise Anya per the dying wish of their father, Alexei. I failed. Even in retirement my duties fall short of their mark. May Godanistan watch over her now in the Skies above.." As Jan's son left his chambers, the Duke-Emeritus would pray quietly to himself as a time of death and mourning plagued his mind and nation.

[Wavey 2568]

Istvan, upon hearing the news was distraught for having had lost his best commander of the Host of Saint Arpad. 

 

“Niet only were vy most trusted lieutenant…but vy also were one of Y closest friends…may GODANISTAN give vy peace in w seven skies, comrade.”