pkpost Paper

[crazedpudding 2222]

PAPER

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The gardens of the Heather Palace.

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Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTHskdFvhtU&ab_channel=RADWIMPS-Topic

 

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A singular question seemed to rattle in Josefina’s head as the days became longer. As she became more content to sit still, surrounded by the laughter of others, rather than take part herself. 

 

What became of a life?

 

Some, she knew, were written in sand and washed away by even the most gentle of waves. Fleeting and temporary, and ultimately unwritten or forgotten as the world carried on. Others left the proof of their existence in flesh. Still more were scrawled onto paper, to persist or crumble away to dust with care or lack thereof. And a minuscule number of lives were carved into stone and metal, untouched by time. 

 

As she lay on what she suspected would be the bed she would die in, Josefina wondered. What would define her life? What would become of it, after she had gone? She had raised fortresses and cities from bare patches of earth, and carved the most stubborn of diamonds into thousands of different shapes. Surely, she had left a mark on the world, even if none remembered that it had been she who had done so. Would her children ask the same questions when they too faced the end, like Amaya had as she held her hand? Would her grandchildren, and their children?

 

As one moves through life, and adjoining lives fall away, Josefina found that one gradually forgets what had once been as clear as glass. After all, she could not say she remembered Esfir’s face, nor Anton’s or Inessa’s. Vladrik’s too had been lost to her, and she was sure Matviy’s would have gone with him to the Skies had he not had a portrait drawn. 

 

She could not remember the voices of her parents, nor those of her friends. Anabel came and went like fog on a hill, Georg flew in and out of her vision as a swiftly passing cloud, marked by paperwork, long nights, and a gratitude for the man her sister had married. Edith was only a warm, smiling face in the corner of her eye and a gentle hand on her shoulder. Niamh had become no more than a shadow.

 

Josefina could not remember the idle conversations, nor the quiet moments. She could not clearly picture anything that hadn’t left a scar. These days, all she could remember is that she had loved them all dearly, and missed them just as much. After all, her heart had always bled far too much for them. 

 

One face, though, refused to be forgotten. It had been carved into her heart, along with a smile, a laugh, a vow. It had left her years ago, she didn’t care to remember how many, along with the man who bore it, but its image had been tattooed into her soul. 

 

She had lived only twelve of her ninety-five years without knowing him. She grew with him, she laughed with him, and she lived with him. She wondered if her life would be written with his when she passed. He stared back at her through her sons and grandsons, and his voice filled every silence. 

 

Manfred looked at her with his eyes, eyes he had passed down to his sons and daughter. Konstanz bore his smile, and Georg, named after a King long passed, had gotten his temper. Little Winifred, the most like her, had gotten his heart. Her eyes and ears were tricking her, she knew. A pale imitation of the vivid nightmares her mind had conjured when she thought him gone a lifetime ago.

 

He had given her everything, after all. How could she ever forget him?

 

She had been a mother to many more than four, and he had never begrudged her the need to care for as many as she could, nor her need to worry and fret over him. She had loved abandoned children, and those without any parents to call their own, as if they were hers. As if they were born from her own flesh and blood. She had taken care of Aleksandr, Ileana, Fabian, Matthias, and Wilhelm, for they had let her, and she had happily done so. Had she given them enough? Would they forgive her if she hadn’t? 

 

With a soft, barely there breath, Josefina fell into sleep, and suddenly she was twenty-two again, and the tiniest baby rested on her shoulder. Mist filled her eyes as she rocked him, soft humming rising from her chest to lull him to sleep. The child slumbered on, and the world spun on its axis, and there Manfred stood, seventy-three and long since grown, dearest Ravenna beside him with her hand on his shoulder, Alfred and his siblings standing around them. Her arms were open to him, as they always were. As they always had been. And as her eldest approached and laid his head on her shoulder once again, Josefina sighed, content. All he had ever needed to do was accept it for what it was, comfort. Her golden son, with a heart as soft as the metal itself. 

 

“You have been the best parent anyone could ever pray for. As perfect as Saint Julia herself.”

 

Little Georg, cradled securely in her arms, struggled and writhed against the blankets she had swaddled him in. She supposed that was fitting. He always had been more content to wander through the world than put down roots. And then he was sixty-eight again and supporting her as she struggled to stand. All Josefina could do was stifle her tears. How she had missed him, her wandering son.

 

Winifred skipped ahead of her next, a carefree smile on her lips, and laughter in the air. Her only daughter. Dear, shy Winifred. A child with her hair and her temper and the name she chose. Josefina wondered where she was now. If she was happy. If she had found all that she sought out of life. She would be sixty-four now. Josefina had celebrated every birthday, she had prayed every day. She wished she had been able to say goodbye.

 

Konstanz came next, her youngest, the final gift God had given her, with his dark blonde hair and his green eyes. The perfect mixture of her and the man who changed the course of her life with a mere word or two. He was so very gentle as he grew, she liked to think at least a little of it had come from her. And then there he stood, the first to help her to her feet when her legs could not hold her, sixty-three with a heart of steel, and Josefina felt pride swell in her heart.

 

The world changed again, and she knew motherhood no more. Youth surrounded her, draped itself over her in waves, and Josefina barely breathed as a shadow she knew she would never forget appeared in her view.

 

Wilheim, all of twelve years old, sat astride his horse with that same confident smirk that she had missed so dearly, and as she reached out to settle her hastily crafted handkerchief in his hand, Josefina realized her body didn’t ache as it had from missing him. This was where she first felt as though all the light in the world had first dawned on her and her alone, even as his shadow bore down upon her. This was where they had begun. Where it had all begun.

 

“You always were the only one who found ease in defeating me, dear.”

 

As she took his hand after bouts both won and lost, Josefina smiled. She was content if this was to be eternity, and even if it wasn’t, she was content to see only this glimpse of what was. 

 

She was content to rest.

 

Spoiler

Thank you so much to everyone who made Josie such an amazing character to play. I truly think she has been my best, and the one I’ll miss the most. Keep on and carry on being amazing, you know who you are.

 

[BuilderBagel 832]

Matthias prayed within his chambers alone.. "Exalted, pray for Josefina as she joins you in the heavens.. GOD guide her well." He uttered as his eyes peered out of his chamber's window. "She rests now, I'm sure."

[Irishmanmichael 182]

Wilhelm could not remember the last time he had openly wept. But as he sat in his office. The aging Fledmarschall could stop the tears from coming. For the woman who had been his only caretaker in his life as a young adult had passed. Another light inside of him flickered and failed as sorrow over took him. “Thank you Lady Josefina.. save me a spot in the skies with you for you will be some of the first family I see.” Wilhelm wrote onto a page in front of him before taking a candle out onto his balcony and lighting it ablaze while he said a silent prayer for his voice had been lost to him.

Edited April 6 by Irishmanmichael

[Gandhi 2749]

Alfred wandered the woods of the Ferdenwald - arriving ultimately at a hilltop.. He drew an old sword and dug the tip into the grass - turning and departing with a few whispered words in his grandmother's honor.

[Allien 429]

Ravenna sought comfort alone, in her room, staring at the distant trees outside her window. She pondered, looking up upon the sky with teary eyes. The elder woman wiped away her tears with laughter "Soon, I'll have shed enough to swim towards you, all of you, and bring you home."

[Timer 1454]

"SAD GRANDMA DIES, NOBODY MOURNS!!" - The Town Crier of Kretzen shouts

[crazedpudding 2222]

Just now, Timer said:

"SAD GRANDMA DIES, NOBODY MOURNS!!" - The Town Crier of Kretzen shouts

you suck 

[annabanana1014 1693]

Juliya Barclay would sit beneath the holy grounds of St. Julia, resting by her statue as she signed the Lorraine for her great-grandmother. 

 

"Shall you rest well Great-grandmother.. please watch over the rest of us." 

 

The girl muttered to herself as she offered her most sincere prayers up to GOD. 

[Fionn__TWG 2623]

Wilheim's bed had found itself an uneasy coldness after his beloved wife had passed on, as had his armour that she had so often aided in placing on his figure. His late nights, once filled with conversations of nothing in particular with her, were now spent in front of the parchment of his study, ancient texts translatable by few in the court. But they would be wasted on him, for it was not their words that drew his attention but rather the inscriptions of the collection of jewelry he had been blessed with by Josefina over their long marriage, which perpetually repeated within his head. Perhaps he was lucky, though, that his heartbreak had arrived so late. Perhaps his time would soon come for soul and vessel to separate. But for now, he simply waited for that release. One day closer at a time.

[beetle 2868]

"Mon Dieu, the last one." The old Countess of Jerovitz muttered to herself, "May her legacy live on."
"You did well Josie."

[sarahbarah 5114]

An old queen of yore smiles as Josefina finally enters the Skies, just as she promised she would all those years ago.

Content, the old matriarchs could finally rest. 

[Coolcod77 586]

Konstanz remained alone in his chambers, mourning the loss of his dear mother. "Rest well mother, you've earnt it."

[Toffee 1232]

Adalfriede knelt before the statue of Wilheim and Josefina, the play of water from the fountain quiet and melodic. A fallen leaf spun in the current and washed up against the pale stone. The stonemason had not quite managed to capture the late Duchess’ likeness, for hard stone could not radiate quiet strength and a glimmer in the eye as she had.

 

Adalfriede removed the crown nestled over her veil. The Diadem von Minitz. Sunlight spilled through the sapphires and emeralds, casting bright gemdrops of colour across Adalfriede’s robes and the carefully tended flagstones. When Josefina had first given her the crown, they had been standing in the centre of camp, the city of Kretzen barely anything more than loose piles of stone and wood. Such a thing of beauty had seemed out of place in the ruggedness of the camp, yet looking at it now, the crown had its own brutal elegance, each tip sharp enough to skewer a man.

 

One of mea finest pieces, if Ea do say so meaself. Vy deserve something that will match vyr own brilliance, and that will match the brilliance of our family. A shining crown for a shining jewel in the hearts of the Reinmaren.

 

Glancing up into her stone face, the ghost of Josefina’s soft, wrinkled fingers caught on Adalfriede’s chin and sent a chill down her spine. Wind vibrated through the branches overhead, turning into the old woman’s quiet hum.

 

Wear it with pride, dear child. Ea see magnificence in vy. Let it grow. Just remember to visit me when Godan decides mea time is near, hm?

 

Adalfriede angrily dashed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. She had not visited. Why? The city of Kretzen reached its brick and tile fingers to the heavens, ensconcing Josefina in what would be her tomb, but she seemed too timeless to ever die.

 

A dobry consort is a silent one who does her duty nie matter the price she has to pay.

 

Ea was very young when Ea met Wilheim, vy know, a girl of but twelve, nearly eight decades ago now. Ea did niet feel Ea had the right to use his name or exercise his power or claim his honour as mea own, even though all those things were rightfully mine as his wife. And still, when mea dear Manfred took up the mantle, and Ea held the bowl into which he dripped his blood as he became Chief, Ea felt that as his mamej, Ea had nie right to make mea will heard, that Ea should merely be a support to him as Ea had always been. And he was wonderful and patient and kind, blunt and stubborn, da, but wonderful.

 

All Ea can do is guide, though mea words are so often taken for granted. It is a symptom, vy see, of princedom and kingship alike. The koeng of Haense has wept in mea arms, and mine was the hand that fed and raised Manfred to the point where he could raise a family himself, with Ravenna. The plight of the mother is to live in the shadows of vyr children, and their children. And how wonderful those shadows feel, even when vy are long forgotten, and vyr words are but distant whispers in the wind.

 

Ea only hope that, when Ea am gone, they will be able to survive without mea guidance.

 

Adalfriede slowly rose, brushing the gravel from the folds of her gown. She was not a silent consort, nor one who was afraid to represent her husband’s honour. She ran a hand over the golden brooch clasping her tribesman’s cloak, feeling the careful engraving of a shield maiden on horseback, Reinmaren runes chased in silver spiralling along the edges. Josefina had had a woman’s strength, quiet and unyielding, weathering life as gracefully as an ancient oak at the heart of a great forest.

 

Promise me something, won't vy, dear girl? When Yam gone, and niething more than a memory, watch over them for me. Love them all as vy love vyrself, and they will take care of vy, even if there are bumps in the road.

 

Unclasping the cloak from around her shoulders, Adalfriede draped it around the stone likeness of Josefina. Raevborne yet Reinmaren to the bone, Josefina would bear the gold brooch of a Chieftess of the Reinmaren in death even if she had not seized that honour for herself in life. Adalfriede smoothed out the green fabric with a tremulous smile, foreign on her usually icy features.

 

“I promise.”

[Phersades 1174]

Nikolai Mikhail Kortrevich had taken his time getting to the seven skies, yet upon his arrival, he found himself among all his children except one. He had been so hopeful  that his children would live longer and fuller lives than he had, so he'd happily wait for Josefina as long as he must. That Count had loved all of his children, but his daughters held a special place in his heart. He remembered them all being so different from one another; Esfir had been quite cold but far more cunning than he could have imagined; Inessa was quiet and reserved; and Josefina had been so outgoing and kindhearted — a trait he was certain she hadn't inherited from him. He vividly recalled the pride he felt for his youngest, entrusting Wilhelm when he sought his daughter's hand, knowing Josefina would not only grace her own house with pride but also bring honor to the Ducal House of Barclay. He regretted not staying longer to see her build the family she did, but he knew he would meet them when it was their time. 

And after many years, when Josefina took her last breath and entered the skies, Nikolai would be sure to welcome her with the same warm smile he often did when she was just a girl. 

"Oh, my little dove, what a life you have lived."