THE FOLLY OF PRODIGY [PK]

[Mady 3037]

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

✥ ALL THOSE WHO WANDER . . . ✥

 

 

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Long had it been that Elena had the opportunity to wander off from the grandiose display of royalty and monarchy, losing herself within the lands and nature which covered the continent, unexplored and undiscovered. The freeing wind blowing against her cheeks and the smell of earth reinvigorated the aging women's sense of purpose as peace was finally had. Upon her trusted steed, the Princess in disguise would race through the lands now at peace from ongoing conflict, traveling from coast to coast on her own, free from prying eyes and opinions. 

 

STINGING HER EYES AS SHE RACED THROUGH THE DRY LANDS OF THE DESERT, THE STAGNANT SAND WOULD FLOOD ELENA’S MEMORIES OF HER TIME GROWING UP WITHIN THE CITY OF ATRUS, HER PEOPLE PURGED OF THEIR HOMELAND ONLY TO FIND IT ONCE MORE AMONGST THE DUNES. SCUTTLING ACROSS HER PATH AS HER HORSE MADE ITS WAY THROUGH THE SANDS, A BEARDED LIZARD WOULD FLARE ITS NECK OUTWARDS, A SILENT HISS EXTENDED TO ELENA AS IMAGERY OF DRAGONS BREATH AND THE GIANT WINGS OF CLOUDB-REAKER FLOODED HER MEMORY. THE GOLDEN HUES OF THE SAND DUNES REFLECTING OFF OF THE SUN’S RAYS WOULD BRING THE TRAVELER TO SLOW HER HORSE TO A MELLOW TROT, ALLOWING A SURVEY OF THE LAND WHICH FELT SO FAMILIAR YET REMINDING HER OF A REALM WHICH WAS RECOGNIZABLY UNREACHABLE TO THE MORTAL WOMAN. 

 

The sting of childhood memories and dreams pricked her mind as the princess re-upped her journey across the continent, the fresh air bringing back a youthful emotion to Elena, though with the sudden abandonment of conflict, returned the anxiety of complacency stirring within her. The feeling of emptiness and lack of purpose scorched the Amiratus’s mind. What was she to do now? Her whole life, the Princess had an enemy to battle and focus on and now. . .now that was gone. 

 

CONTINUING ON WITH HER JOURNEY AND FINDING HERSELF AT THE WATERS OF THE AAUNIC COAST, THE REMINDER OF THE SHORES HUMANITY LANDED UPON WHEN FLEEING THEIR BIRTHPLACE EBBED THEIR WAY INTO HER REELING MIND. WHAT WAS MEANT TO BE A PEACEFUL ESCAPE SEEMED TO TRANSITION INTO A RECOUNTING OF ELENA’S LOSSES AND YOUTHFUL MEMORIES - THE GOOD AND THE BAD. THE REALITY THAT THESE LANDS ONCE FELT SO FOREIGN TO HER ARE NOW THE BIRTHPLACE OF HER PEOPLE - HER FAMILY SENT A CHILL DOWN HER SPINE AT THE REALITY OF HOW TIMES CHANGE AND HISTORY CONTINUES TO REPEAT ITSELF AS THE GREAT SCHOLAR SARSON RELAYED UNTO HER IN MANY YEARS BEFORE. 

 

Only after a brief visit to old friends within Lemon Hill, Elena would recognize the darkening horizon, mounting her horse once more as she internally declared her travels at an end. The Rubinissima coast was calling the Balianese woman back as the craving for salty air and warm nights grew within Elena. A homeland that was not her own yet grew upon her after the decades resembled some semblance of what the woman once had in her youth.

 

REACHING THE BORDERS OF HER SOUTHERN HOME, THE PRINCESS WOULD STRAY FROM THE PATH OF THE QUEEN’S ROAD, OPTING TO FOLLOW A LESSER ROUTE THROUGH THE CYPRESS TREES AND FERNS WHICH SPROUTED FROM THE EARTH. THE SHARP TROTTING SOUND OF ELENA’S STEED WOULD QUICKLY SUBSIDE INTO A MORE RHYTHMIC MELODY FROM THE TRANSITION OF STONE TO DIRT AS THE WOMAN SOON BECAME ENVELOPED INTO THE NATURE SURROUNDING HER. COMING UPON A STREAM AND MOSSY CLEARING, THE WOMAN OPTED TO DISMOUNT AND ALLOW HER HORSE SOME REPRIEVE AS SHE LED HIM TOWARDS THE STREAM FROM COOLING SUSTENANCE AS SHE TOO TOOK A PEACEFUL REST UPON A PATCH OF DRY MOSS BETWIXT THE FERNS AND TREES. THE CREATURES OF THE WOOD AND HERSELF SEEMED TO BE ALL WHO ENJOYED THE PEACEFUL CALM OF THE LUSH FOREST, THOUGH A SHIVER OF BRANCHES AND THORNS SOON REVEALED THE FALSE TRANQUILITY THAT WAS AT BAY. 

 

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“Hail, wayward pilgrim.”

 

The words had cut through the evening’s silence like a knife. In Elena’s ears, the rustle of the wind seemed to mute; the hum of the crickets seemed to vanish. Only her own heartbeat drummed between her ears.

 

“Um … hellooooo? Pilgrim?” 

 

It took her a moment to realize why Elena’s hair stood on end, and why her blood suddenly felt like ice. For that voice, too, was another childhood memory - one that she had locked away in the darkest part of herself. 

 

One that she did not know she could never forget.

 

Atop her mount, she slowly turned her head to the source of the voice. On that moonlit hill near Beleth, through which the lonely road to Balian ran, a strange figure lounged against a leafy palm tree. A figure garbed in green, and with a broad-brimmed straw hat tilted to cover a veiled, dark-skinned face.

 

Her heart thrummed like a war-drum. She remembered that face - that face - from the road outside Atrus, when she was just a girl. She remembered his warm smile, and how she offered to guide him to the dragon ruins nearby.

 

“Are you deaf, too?” the hatted-figure lamented. With a melodramatic sigh, he pushed off the tree, and slowly trudged towards her. “The last pilgrim that came this way was deaf, and - let me tell you - that was a real headache.”

 

Elena remembered when that man - so many decades ago - had plunged his fangs into her neck. No, not man -- vampyre.

 

“It’s … you,” she managed breathlessly. “H-how …?” 

 

The figure paused, and tilted his head curiously. “Oh. Have we met?”

 

She remembered the fear, back then as a child. She remembered her powerlessness. “You!” she snarled, and there was a hiss of steel as she ripped her blade free from its scabbard, and brandished it in quivering arms.

 

“Hm.” The vampyre tapped his hat, and pressed a hand pensively to his chin. Even now, it was so hard to see his face - that infuriating face - in the shadow of his hat. “Not a fan, then, is it? Well, that is a shame. I’ll -” 

 

Her horse brayed as she urged it forward, and she very nearly buried her blade in the vampyre’s face as she passed. When she wheeled her horse back around, though, she saw no blood glistened on her blade, and the vampyre was already clambering to his feet after he had leapt aside from her charge.

 

“Okay,” he began sourly, “that was rude. You -” 

 

She called on every fibre of her strength as she charged once again. She quashed the aches of her age, and the fragility of her form. She would not fall victim to this wretch again, so many years later.

 

“Just - stop -” the vampyre managed, but those were the only words she heard. As she swung her blade down, the vampyre moved in a flash, and she could only watch as claws - mounted with nails as long as knives - split through the aged flesh of her forearm. 

 

Time seemed to lull as the sword dropped from her fingers, and clattered to the road. Oddly, she could not feel the pain in her arm where the vampyre had clawed her, but she did feel her body slip from the saddle as she lost control of her mount. The world swam as she fell, and then …

 

Crack.

 

Hours, or minutes, she did not know how long she lay on the road, blinking away the darkness of unconsciousness. Something must be broken - that much she knew. She could not feel her legs or arms, and she could not so much as twitch a muscle.

 

But she could see, and she could hear.

 

She heard the stomp of boots towards her, and those boots appear standing over her.

 

“Tsch,” came a grunt. “Now, look at what you’ve done. And here I was, trying to be merciful. Well, jokes on me for trying, I guess.”

 

She felt the faintest tingle in her arms. If she could just reach her sword, wherever it had fallen … if she could just reach it, and plunge it into the darkspawn …

 

The vampyre crouched down. She could see his face, now, up close; she could see that the witty drawl he spoke with did not seem to match the deep, sad eyes that stared at her now. Lost eyes.

 

“You don’t mind if I borrow some blood, do you? I mean, it doesn’t look like you’re going to need it all that soon, anyway.”

 

She did not feel the fangs enter her throat, but she felt the scar it left on her soul. The vampyre said nothing as it left, alone with only her mare poking its nose at her motionless form, but he did spare one last look at her, his maw stained with his blood, before he disappeared into the night. 

 

AND SO, THE AGED PRINCESS LAY UPON THE STONE OF THE QUEEN’S ROAD, HER HEARTBEAT STEADYING TO A PAUSE AS HER LIFE WAS TAKEN TO EASILY, LIKE A TOY TAKEN FROM A BABE. AS SHE RESTED SILENTLY UPON THE EARTH, THE BLADES OF GRASS AND FERNS LICKED HER SKIN AS THE WARMTH OF HER LIVING SPIRIT WAS EXPELLED. PERHAPS THERE WAS SOME TRUTH TO THE TRADITIONAL SAYING REGARDING EYES BEING A WINDOW TO THE SOUL, FOUND TO BE TRUTHFUL AS THE FINAL LIGHT OF ELENA’S SPIRIT SEEMED TO LEAVE HER GRAY EYES, LEAVING BEHIND THE COLD HUSK OF THE WOMAN TO BE DISCOVERED BY ANY WANDERING STRANGER. . . 

 

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ELENA CASIMIRA NOVELLEN - DE LYONS

 

Princess Royal of Balian, Countess of Rosemoor, Baroness-Consort of Enderoca, Amiratus of the Kingdom of Balian, Lady Seneschal of the Crown and Chief Minister of the Royal Duana. 

 

8TH OF LOTHARS GIFT, 35 BA -

11TH OF SUN’S SMILE, 96 BA

 

 

[!] LETTERS WOULD BE SENT OUT TO THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS IN ACCORDANCE TO THE PRINCESSES LEGAL WISHES WITHIN HER LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. 

 

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Spoiler

I’d like to take a moment to just thank everyone who contributed to the story that was Elena. She was such a fun character to develop and very different from the past characters I’ve played. If I were to make a list of everyone to thank I think this post would be twenty pages long so just know that if I had the opportunity to RP with you, I am grateful to you and I appreciate our interactions as short or as long as they may have been.
 

(Also a huge thank you to @frankdh and @Toffee for the amazing art of Elena and just for being great people to talk to for advice and just in general :) )

 

@frankdh

 

@Toffee

 

 

 

[ErikAzog 3313]

reserved

[oryP 972]

The Count of Marsana, from the comforts of his private study, peered upon the document. His eyes squinting to read the text as he moved the parchment for closer inspection. An audible gasp - "Mea wallet jest spared for another day." Demetrius then smiled the Sun's Smile as he gazed upon his Two Hundred Minas before it faded to a frown. "Y was fond of her when she was niet shaking eam down."

[libertyybelle 5476]

Caelia wept as she heard of her mother's passing, visiting her one last time before she had passed. "A great woman- an even better mother. Farewell."

[MunaZaldrizoti 5748]

Somewhere off in the lands of Ba'as, an aged princess wonders how her elder sister was faring, ruling their niece's kingdom. Her husband, the Prince Ambros Rostampur, had always been adamant that they not return to Balian for the disrespect paid to his sister, Andromeda, during her tenure as Hadrian's queen & consort.

 

But oh, how she missed her dearest Leni.

[zuziee 3219]

Ludvika prayed for her mother in laws soul before bed that night, hoping an easy passage. 

[EmiliainWonderland 1526]

Elaine, Elena's sister in law frowned. 

"I pray that Robyn is doing alright."

She didn't have much to say for Elena herself, who had never really gotten along with Elaine.

[Andustar 2118]

". . ." Albéric stirred as word of her passing reached his ears. "Elena. Cousin." They had been closer in their youth, in spite of the occasional verbal spat. But regardless of what differences manifested in later years, his admiration for her mind remained. Besides that, she was family - someone the wandering knight cared for, albeit in a reserved manner.

He felt greater pain still for the Princess' family. For Robyn, Tristan, Caelia and Percival.
"Let us pay our respects. We travel to Balian," he stated to his household.
@EmiliainWonderland@Tea_Guzzler

[LazyBacon220 302]

The Aging Baron Casimir shook his head in astonishment. "Another cousin. Gone like the ever-changing tides. Rest easy cousin. You were always more family than princess." He let out a grunt, pulling logs with a single arm and tying them into bundles. The other held on to his cane as he worked. He had a barony to build. 

 

The son of Elena Casimira kneeled in the church of Portoregne to pray. That was all he knew in troubling times, and by GOD this was a troubling time. His Balianite Paraspada was laid on the church floor before him. He prayed a prayer of peace. For his mère that she would have an easy passage. For strength, for him and his frère in the times to come. And for honour. That his blade will strike true when the demons that took her away from him are finally slain.

  

[Shmeepicus 3942]

A newly-wed Percy sighed as he entered the Basilica of the Holy Supernals. He found himself before a slew of candles, knelt low and praying for his Mother's soul. A lone tear fell from the war-hardened mans' eye as his prayer finished, yet he pulled himself to his feet and lit a candle in her memory- checking in every few days to make sure it remained burning, and replacing it if the wax grew too low.

 

"Until we meet again, Mother."

[SmartScout 241]

Ser Robyn de Lyons, greyed now by his years, road down the familiar Queensroad of Balian at a leisurely pace as he oft wood, breeze gently ruffling his greying gold hair as he'd notice a buzzing at the side of the road by a lump in the ferns, The Magister would cautiously approach the object, a sense of dread filling his as the scent of blood and fresh carrion would fill his nostrils, and he'd notice the familiar garb and greying brownish red locks as he'd move to genuflect by the body, turning it over in his hands as he'd see the face of his wife, letting out a nigh inhuman sob as he'd lift her onto his horse, galloping to town and laying her in a bed in the clinic, calling for his son. Robyn would look upon the body of his deceased wife, sobbing, as he'd swear "Ils périront dans les flammes... tous. Je le jure devant Dieu dans les Sept Cieux." before blessing the body in Flexio, signing the Lorraine as he'd begin to write letters, expression of dethatched, shellshocked sadness on his face as he'd sit at her bedside, breaking into intermittent sobs.

Edited February 8 by SmartScout

[Xarkly 12618]

 

The vampyre named Ryke licked the last of the Princess' blood off his claws.

 

It was her own fool fault, he told himself.

 

He told himself again and again and again, but it made him feel no better.

[Harald 2487]

The young Prince of Monterosa had passed his beloved Aunt a few saint hours earlier. As he sat within the gardens the news would be delivered to him.. the Xander soon there after dropping his lemon cake to the ground as tears would would start flooding his eyes. 

[Terry 1859]

Greene Caerme'onn-Norvayn would give a heavy sigh upon receiving the news, his list of close friends growing shorter by the day. He'd find himself back at the Cove upon hearing the news, removing his helmet as he said a small prayer.

 

"Ahernan fer all yeh did, Bobcat. For meh, mah mother, mah whole family. May yeh rest easy whereveh yeh end up, an' may teh perpetrator ov yeh death nae go unpunished."

 

Greene would then rise, placing his helmet back atop his head. He'd draw a circle over his heart before reluctantly moving on.

[sarahbarah 5021]

Within the Basilica, Amaya prays for Elena’s safe ascent to the Seven Skies.