[PK - Apotheosis] A Knight's Resolve

[Andustar 2261]

---

Spoiler

 

---

 

“I WILL OFFER YOU A CHOICE, KEEPER. AN ACCORD

WHICH COULD BENEFIT YOU AND ME.”

 

“May we speak plainly? There’s something I wish to tell you 

before I give my answer.”

 

“SPEAK.”

“I stood once to inherit a Kingdom ‘til the cruel hand of fate determined I would be exiled. As a young boy, I learned that the world in which we reside is a fickle place, one which we must make sense of. I endeavoured from that point on to cry out against fate. To find order in chaos. And I swore to do so whilst remaining true to myself.”

“Perhaps My Lord thinks of me a disgrace. Captured by whelps, barely worth his time. 

But I don’t seek his approval, like a child clinging to his father’s tail…”

“No, Azdromoth. I refuse.” 

 

And so the Archdrakaar came forth, bearing down upon Albéric - bound in chains, yet unbroken in resolve. Azdromoth would make an example of such defiance. 

 

“I WANT A WITNESS TO GREATNESS.”

 

The Keeper’s sister, similarly bound and beaten, would bear witness.

 

Time was no longer a luxury he could afford to waste. Death had finally caught up to him, determined to snuff yet another light that had once burned so bright. So he decided, then and there, that he would make this final moment count. The Keeper would claim a victory in the wake of his defeat.

 

“Lord of Sunlight - Patron of Order…” 

 

“I beseech thee. Grace me with your light and bring us victory in this fight.”

“Save Her.” 

 

His final wish in life, for an intervention, was granted. Order descended, denying Ruin his satisfaction. Even with the Keeper’s demise, the Archdrakaar stood mocked, wounded by the vessel’s hand and robbed of his witness, who drifted to safety. Even as his accursed blade struck Albéric’s head from his shoulders, the pair of them would ensure she lived.

 

---

Spoiler

 

 

---

 

Death. Another path on the road we all must take. We fear it because we fear the unknown - the suspense of what will happen next. It was no different for Albéric, adrift in currents beyond the mortal plane. He was lost but not alone, for the fallen knight felt a presence nearby, one he had grown all too familiar with in his years of service. He had only one question:
 

“What now?”
 

Knee-deep in still waters, through which countless souls had passed before, he waited for an answer. His cold hands brushed across delicate reeds, the lake surface shimmering with the faintest glint of sapphire. Gone were the scorched dunes he had once trekked in his mind, punishing and relentless. This place was comforting and familiar - it felt like home. 

 

"You will serve, as you have done for those interminable years."

 

It was a callous voice from an indurate, bloodless lord; a bairn clutching at their prized toy, and to Order, Albéric was a chattel - an eternal soldier forced to fight a cruel war in the heavens.  

 

“Spoken like a true autocrat.”

 

He raised his voice, not in defiance, but in acknowledgment of his Patron’s nature. 

 

“For the longest time, I feared your scrutinising gaze and desire for retribution. But, as the years wore on, I also found myself inspired by your tenacity. Though wrathful, you still cared enough to act, even for those who might seem like insects. For all your cruelty, there’s still a spark of compassion.”

“I simply hope you have foreseen what cruelty begets, My Lord.” 

 

At the end of the waters, there was a vertiginous drop of light that palpitated into an empty pit; a hang-over of wailing souls trepid in damnation. It was a cross-road, an easy route to prepare for servitude in the Immaculate Palace, whereas the other winding path led only to eternal solitude in darkness. 

 

"This blether of words should be focused on somebody who will foster your kindness. To me, these appellations are of no worth."

 

"Enter the light."

Albéric’s gaze lingered upon the cross-road ahead. The light offered not the fulfilment he desired but an eternity of ruthless servitude. In the darkness - solitude, but also freedom. Freedom from cruelty and freedom from responsibility. 

 

“Responsibility…”
 

The word clung to his consciousness. He could run and save himself from eternal torment, rejecting his fate as yet another cruel arbiter of Order. Yet, what kind of salvation would cowardice entail? The hand of Ruin still gripped the world; there was far more at stake than merely his freedom.

“I still have a responsibility to see this through.”
 

Through the waters, Albéric strode towards the light, towards a damnable existence. A necessary existence. He reached forth, fingers stretched as though grasping a sword. His fate was at long last sealed. Yet, the flame of kindness still burned within his soul.

“But I also made a promise. I won’t lose sight of myself, for I am a knight of the realm.”
 

A hum resonated from where the light shone, embracing the paladin-keeper in its full breadth and warmth. The Sunlit Lord remained silent in his reprisal, and looked to only embrace a new centurion into his retinue. In the sky, the sun would shine brighter ever so slightly. 

 

---

 

Art by BasilTheBunny
~~~

Albert Salvian
Knight of the Lake

1899 - 1975
 

Spoiler

I just want to start by saying it was an incredible privilege playing Albert. From a stammering young noble to a Keeper of Xan, the character has come a long way since his inception. I am heartbroken to let him go, but I also could not think of a better send-off for someone whom I devoted so much time and effort toward.

I want to offer a huge thank you to both @tilly and @Eddywilson2 for allowing me to play the character. The interactions I had with you both were essential for his development and continued to define him until his death.

I also want to thank the Paladin playerbase and everyone who I had the pleasure of interacting with. Ranging from mentors, to family members, the list goes on. You made this character come to life and I will truly miss the adventures we had together.

Also, a special thank you to @Werew0lf for writing Xan’s dialogue, and also @squakhawk for helping produce the interaction.

 

[kindEmperor 1091]

A leal soldier-prince of the Arch-Drakaar, that loomed above an egg at rest within its drakeshrine began to remember the face of that keeper, the tale of a warrior, his hands rested behind his head as he stared at the wrothful flames of such- He wondered, he dreamt, that the fervent ambition of men would forever lack understanding, he could never grasp the understanding why? What moved that man to such heights. For that, he was intrigued, further, he would scribe such a tale. 

The tale of Alberic, the bravest of the Keepers. 

[RaiderBlue 652]

The final mentor of the late Alberic, awaited in the agreed upon meeting place for their next lessons for the Young Keeper never to arrive. In the following days the mentor conferred with those close to him, the fallen brother would not go unknown, retribution would be sought.

[wooz 436]

Aurae places a candle down on the roots of the Wolsong tree. Having placed a placard for him earlier she'd stare at it.

 

"We did not know each other. But, we were brother and sister in arms and duty. I will see to it that you are remembered with the accolades you deserve. I will see to it that you are honored."

 

As she spoke to tended to the candle until its flame was as stalwart as he was in life.

[BasicDoctor 90]

An old man knelt in disturbed meditation. His disciplined composure was disquieted and unsettled, slowly breaking. The normally collected man desperately sought the solace of control and restraint he practiced. He would not be granted this.

Instead that night, he would be granted a resolve reignited. With war as tinder, and the burning heart of a single, courageous knight as its catalyst. The holy pyre was prepared, and a wildfire were to be set in motion. He must be ready to embrace it, in arms with brothers and sisters.

So desperately as he attempted to contain the pain of passion, it was a feeling he must now endure and learn to discipline. Whether this were a flame he could contain, on that night, he could not. For the thawing of cold appearances had begun, and the justice of Order would not be obstructed.

[Pallodium 574]

A draconic figure stood in that hall; retrospect of the moment whence the Aengul X*n themselves took a foothold; a final grasp upon the Keepers form.

 

A final act. To invoke oneself as a vessel to be mantled.

 

He would remember Alberic's act; to ruminate upon it. Of the risks the bravest of the Ad-Sharlat would take.

 

 »»-------¤-------«« 

A risk Alberic took with stride.

 »»-------¤-------«« 

[Pancho 2576]

Cerrick looked to the skies as the Sapphire mists had blazed through it. A sinking feeling in his heart washed over his form as the two elves with him saw his face drop. After the events, he sat alone in the Silver City, looking to the night sky as he said his prayers.
"May the Creator bless whoever it was, for they were amongst the bravest of his Lord's Warriors."

-+-

Victoriano Alacran looked down from the Seven Skies to the world below, happy to see the boy he had saved so long ago complete such great achievements.

[FlemishSupremacy 5030]

A Nephilim sulked in his room, recovering from the grievous injury Alberic-turned-Xan had wrought upon his form... He recalled a time he had fought alongside this man, against Darkspawn.

Now, however, was a different time. The Xannites and their tyrant would see him slain, and so, the war must be taken to them. The pair of them had each picked their side, and the longtime warrior knew there could be no mercy in times like these. Still, he thought it lamentable that it must be this way. 

 

He hoped that, should he be captured, he, too, would show the same courage Alberic had. It was always the brave that were taken first in war... Both Thelia and Alberic had shown as much.

[Spoopy_Duck 1523]

Within the pine forests, a young seeker sat before a tree with her blade across her lap. An empty gaze staring forth at the slowly dying wick of a candle as she lamented the loss of the keeper. She remembered the fiery initiate who refused to step down in battle,  having to drag him from the ruins of Mori invasion. She remembered his offer to give her a place to feel welcome as she braved the world alone.
 "Salvation is no more, the titan shall fall."
The seeker uttered the vow as she rose, the flame of the candle finally dying out as she would continue forth with her journey.
Such was duty.

[mothsthetic 447]

Albert’s youngest great niece had only ever met him once. A sunny day in Balian, a brief conversation exchanged among the two. His words had struck the young Archduchess deeply. Gazing upon the old man’s features, she saw the striking resemblance to her great grandmother- and for a moment, she could imagine her grandmother, the Paladin’s late sister. In the crinkles of his eyes, had she had the same warm smile? 

 

The night falls silent. Sitting on the balcony outside her room, her sisters asleep just inside, the heiress burns a golden candle, flipping through a book of poetry she had seen Grammy Renilde crying over just hours earlier. It will be returned before daylight, of course- the young girl simply wishing to connect to the fallen. She imagines his voice, remembers his warning. Closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer, Adalia Morgana takes a deep breath, and whispers into the chill midnight air. 

 

“I will be deserving- as you were.”

[tilly 3732]

“To my first son, my first love,” Renilde reminisced aloud a letter she’d sent to Albert just Saints days ago, voice laced with the agony of bereavement. 

 

In the secluded confines of Courteis Hale, nestled amidst the whispers of the Petra's ancient forests, there dwelled a sorrow that weighed heavy upon the shoulders of Queen-Emeritus Renilde. Her heart, once a bastion of strength, now lay shattered in the wake of a grievous loss. For her beloved son, Albert Salvian, had departed from this world, leaving behind a void that seemed insurmountable.

 

Renilde's relationship with Albert had weathered tumultuous storms, born from the ashes of conflict and strife. In the aftermath of the Petran Civil War, their bond had been strained, fraught with doubt and discord. There were moments when their voices clashed like thunder, echoing through the corridors of the old Courteis Hale in Valfleur, each grappling with the scars of their past.

 

But time, that elusive healer, had woven its threads of redemption between them. Through years marked by trials and triumphs, they had forged a new connection, one built on understanding and trust. Together, they had stood as comrades-in-arms, facing the perils of battle side by side during the Fall of Almaris. In those harrowing moments, the echoes of past grievances faded into insignificance, replaced by a shared resolve to protect their homeland.

 

And now, as Renilde grappled with the anguish of Albert's passing, she retreated once more into the sanctuary of solitude. The weight of her grief cloaked her in a veil of isolation, shielding her from the prying eyes of the world beyond. Yet within the confines of Courteis Hale, amidst the tranquility of her garden ablaze with hues of blue, she found solace in the embrace of family.

 

Her last surviving child, Paul Alexander, stood by her side, a pillar of strength and consistency amidst the tempest of sorrow. And around them, gathered the echoes of generations, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, their presence a balm to her wounded soul. Together, they sought refuge in the gentle cadence of shared memories, finding comfort in the warmth of familial love.

 

In the quietude of Courteis Hale, Renilde clung to the remnants of a promise made long ago. Together with Albert, or Bertie as she has called him as a child, they had embarked on a journey of words, crafting verses to soothe the stuttering speech of a timid boy. And now, as she traced the lines of their poetry book, she found herself drawn once more into the embrace of their shared creations - more hers than his as she’d been adding to it in the recent years. Yet, her plan was to give it to him, to pass down from generation to generation.

 

In those pages lay the essence of their bond, a testament to the resilience of love in the face of adversity. And as Renilde lingered amidst the whispers of memory, she found a flicker of hope amidst the shadows of grief. For though Albert may have departed from this world, the echoes of his spirit lingered on, woven into the fabric of their shared story. 

 

“Bertie,” Renilde murmured a prayer in the chapel of Courteis Hale, a place she’d visited more frequently as of late. Candles were lit there in honor of the departed man. “You are gone, but not forgotten. Here, in my heart, and all of your nieces’ and nephews’; your brothers’. And the many more you’ve touched along the way.” Renilde knelt before the altar, hands steepled together, and continued to convulse with emotion. 

 

With each shuddering breath, the weight of loss pressed heavily upon her chest, threatening to engulf her in its suffocating embrace. Her sobs echoed through the dimly lit chamber, a symphony of anguish that reverberated against the cold stone walls. And yet, amidst the tumult of sorrow, Renilde found solace in the fervent whispers of prayer that escaped her trembling lips. With every plea to the heavens, she begged for mercy upon the soul of her departed son, her words a desperate plea for absolution in the face of unfathomable loss.

[squakhawk 8237]

The Archdrakaar ruminated as his stomach scarred, the sapphire crystals which had punched through his gut pained him with an insidious poison as order clashed with his earthblood. He remembered the face of the vessel, ruminating as he recalled the moments in fury when he had been brutally cut in two. The face haunted him; not of the grisly scene, nor the bloodshed that followed.

 

He remembered the face that stared back at him; it was not of Xan, but of the keeper Alberic.

It was not the posession that frightened him, nor the sight of his greatest nemesis.

It was not the wound that bled within his stomach, nor the pain it caused.

It was the face that stared back at his.

It showed no fear.

It was remarkable.

And terrifying.

[Rigorous 1704]

Likewise, Alistair stood before a mirror recovering, feeling a scar that formed from the bolt of Xan Mist that reached from his navel to his shoulder. Clad in long and flowing pants as well as a robe, the creature drew his talon along the scar and then glowered. His unblemished body was now cracked. His veneer of perfection, earthly beauty, and nobility, had been cracked. With an arrogant glance, he lowered his gaze, wondering what had gone wrong.

 

They had won this time.

 

But if this was the travesty that could be wrought by one Keeper, what of the others?

 

Looks are nothing, Al chastised himself. There is a mission here.

 

Yet, the Elder Azdrazi was ashamed all the same of his inability to do anything except shield the others. No amount of training could prepare him for the Aengulic blight that rendered his scales and their brilliant majesty scarred. No amount of polymorphing or purification could fix the wounded tissue. His countenance was wrathful, the ancient figure's jaw taut as he contemplated what events would proceed to the Keeper's death.

 

 

[Smol 846]

Ailure’s visage was cast upon the sky, dazed as she had been thrown, bashed and wrestled to the ground, and the last few hours had been a blur to her.  She stood in front of her ‘safety’, broken pain ringing through her very being yet unfaltering. It seemed that no longer the moment she was to look up towards the sky fully it flashed thunder bellowing across the once fading sapphire skies. As tears pricked her visage. Causing her to bolt into a run, towards sunbreak. 

 

"Ea will ensure that it never sets, Niet today or any other day."

She hoarsely utters as she runs, barely paying care to who saw her or what state she was in.

[ellielove15 308]

Dame Leoni of Acalonn, Devil-Knight and Orphan of the Sunlit Lord, watched the skies crash, rumble and turn a multitude of colors with great shame. 

"I'm sorry... I couldn't save you, llir. I have no more love and reverence for the Lord you and my mother serve, but I hope you tell haelun that I miss her."