At Wicks End

[Burlous Wick 26]

           

Burlous Wick is Dead

Aged 97 years old

Writer, Physician, Warrior, Tinkerer, Former Assistant Lawspeaker

Years spent alone in his house, writing frivolous books and tales of galivanting adventurers that would never reach the press. Burlous Wick had a simple life for a retired veteran. A routine that was right as rain; wake up, write novels, check the stock of Cogwick's and then return home to bed.

The morning was quaint, the sun shone through the stained glass of his window, basking the old man in a deep emerald and blue haze as the bird's melody had stirred him awake. As he struggled to put on his spectacles there was something wrong. A sinking feeling in his stomach, a feeling of depth that had not made itself present before this very moment. This precious thing we call life is a slow burning candle, and this Wick knew that his time had arrived. There was no panic, no fear, just acknowledgement. Burlous rose out of his bed, his mechanical soul-bonded cat Cordelious followed him down into his study as he wrote a final letter to be delivered by the aviary. 

 

There was no one to call to, no one Burlous wanted to burden death with as it loomed over everyone already with the passing of so many as of recently.

Memories of the first years spent in Minitz flash before his very eyes in a whirlwind of emotions, he uttered through the dull pain; 
"I went from being no one, to something greater than myself... for a while in my lonely life, I had people I could call comrades. I had friends."
                                                                       

As Burlous lay in his bed. Cordelious, crawled up next to him as he drew his final breath.

The soul bond flickers for but a moment before whirring to a stop - leaving two husks in the bed.

The Wick had burnt out, and all that was left was the Wax.

 

Spoiler

The letter being carried by flight reads as follows:

Dearest Waxwell,

I write to you as you are the only one left of my kin I have contact with, by the time you read this I will have surely passed on. I know you had wrote to me on several occasions inquiring about my tales and I must forgive you for my absence. I want you to be the sole inheritor of my fortune, estate, everything I have here in Reinmar. I know you still must be distressed by my late sister's death but I assure you, that you will find a new home here in this city. You are destined to do amazing things my nephew. Despite your demeanor, you will fit right in among the vibrant people. 

Signed Burlous Wick,

WER RASTET, DER ROSTET

P.S.
Do make sure to find someone with the talent of soulbonding, I'm sure Cordelious will love to meet you.
 

 

Edited September 4, 2024 by Burwik