THE DEATH OF SER CIRILLA: THE SERPENT KNIGHTS DEMISE

[_mady07 1540]

 

The Serpent-Knight’s Demise.

 

---

 

UPON THE DAY the weather held cool as a rally gathered near the ruins of a fallen Veletz. 

How odd that church bells rang as the woman stood flanking Julian, the first person she'd met in Hyspia. Julian had taught her how to fight, how to be the Knight her people needed. She had left her home for a better chance away from the desolate past and into a great golden age. Meeting Julian, had been like meeting a donkey too stubborn to know what was best. 

She became the Knight sworn to protect Princesa Valencia, Her very first friend, a girl in which Cirilla envied, adored and looked up to. She flanked her side regularly and intended to continue that. 

Cirilla, a title-less girl, had met Dante Fontesar not long after meeting Julian. He had been quiet and all had been simple back then.

It wasn't until they were much older that Dante and Cirilla became married, at their wedding the Sovereigns Julian and Xiomara would name Cirilla “The Serpent Knight” A title in which Cirilla used to define herself. Her five children pythons just the same she would hope. Raising them was the greatest privilege she could've asked for although she spent most of the time at work while Dante remained at home. She cherished them each just the same

 

The Serpent-Knight moved, pulling the Sovereign Julian behind her, as a bomb launched into the fields of a peace talk. Pain erupted on the woman's figure. 

 

Cirilla was transferred to be the Sovereigns Knight after she made a mistake. She had accidentally threatened a royal without proper information. The woman was never known for being anything but brazen. 

It wasn't for another ten years before Cirilla and Dante would be named Baron and Baroness of Farallon. 

The fiery pain spread as an Orc, Azhug’Gorkil picked her and Julian up. His attempt to save the two had been met with some success. “Tell Dante I love him, Tell the children I love them” The woman whispered out towards Julian.

 

Julian and Tomas had been her close friends for a while. The two drove her crazy and yet they all cared just the same. Often they adventured and sat through religious stories and lectures together. Tomas had died engulfed in the flames of her beautiful home. They just finished rebuilding her barony on a cliff-side not far. Dante understood her better than anyone else. He would change his entire being for it to align with her. They balanced each other out until the bitter end. It wasn't until she became a council member on the Sovereigns royal decree to aid her dear friend Valencia that she realized how the Sovereignty worked. It was something she held to her heart and wanted nothing more than to see the prosper of her nation.

 

Cirilla lay there after a horse rode to Numendil, The woman looked around, her eyes met Julians, then towards Valencia.. Slowly her gaze to Xiomara as well “Tell them I didn't mean any harm- I love them all- Gracias for taking me in” 

 

Julian seemed to sputter something about how she wouldn't die, she would go home. The resounding noises from Xiomara and the rest of the party followed. She had wished it were true.

 

Cirilla fell over, the life drained as the shrapnel on her face and skin burned and burned and then finally stopped. The woman grew cold as the peace talks regrouped. 

 

Death claimed the Baroness, The Serpent-knight, and the Lady Cirilla for at least the talks of peace may continue in her stead. 

 

Spoiler

 

 

Credit to @teeylin

 

Credit to @Tomagas

 

Credit: @Dinochad and thanks to @tadabug2000

 

 

 

I loved this character very much, I have learned sometimes you have to be ready to say goodbye. I always have been someone to pk on first good rp death. I really want to thank everyone who I couldn't mention in this post. I appreciate everyone who's helped to make my story and I thank you all for your time.

 

 

[Bethinwonderland 2213]

Valencia stared at Cirilla's body as it fell from the horse. Her heart sank as she grieved her first friend.

While the peace summit continued, Valencia was only half paying attention as her gaze stayed focused on the corpse. Hoping that this was just some cruel joke. That she would spring back to life at any moment.. "It was just a prank" she'd say.. Though that wasn't going to happen.

Once the summit was over, the Princesa-Royal took personal charge of ensuring the Serpent Knight returned to the city and was placed in the morgue. Her son greeted her with a big hug, to which she smiled and kissed him on the top of his head. She excused herself from him to notify Cirilla's now-widow of the events that transpired and where the body lay waiting.

Felipe, Arvel, and she placed a plaque on the memorial wall for their fallen family member. They lit candles in her name; hoping she would find peace in the skies. "Vengeance is needed for her. There is no rest till her killer is dead.". She just had to figure out who had done it..

 

 

---

Valencia found herself on her balcony that evening, staring off to the star-filled skies

"We never did make up properly, hermana. I'll try to keep them safe"

[EmiliainWonderland 2309]

Yet another gone, another she cared for, another she'd grown to respect. Asteria could hardly comprehend that someone who'd been a friend, an odd friend, but a friend nonetheless was gone. Another added to the pile of bodies that seemed to build up around Asteria, another who would not be forgotten.

[MonteGiant 891]

Don Leomonte would be the one to carry Ser Cirilla's corpse, the one who squired under her in his path for redemption, the one who failed to keep her alive in that fateful place in Veletz. He holds grave malice and anger on his mind now, malice towards those men of Salvo, those men who killed his knight.

[Aquarius 87]

Arvel now quietly mourned under his helm.. for one of his little ones had passed on this day. He had watched her grow from a young knight, to the day he was honored to watch her and Dante at the alter, to eventually see her family grow. 

A light had been taken once more from this tired ker, and while he had a duty to watch over others in her stead once more, he did quietly mourn.

[TheShinyHodzic 239]

Johnny "QuickShot" McCanon dawned his flay mask once more, walking off into the distance 

[Pancakehz 2279]

Azhug'Gorkil frowned, silently vowing to himself to spend his life atoning for his failure in saving the life of Ser Cirilla.

[Kardika 1057]

"GAH-hahahahahahahahahahahaha..." the REAL SALVIAN PATRIOT, JOHN OREN, laughs viciously as he reads the missive before riding off into the distance.

[RedeemedAidan 1125]

Pablo Fontesar had been crossing the ballroom when a servant arrived with the news of his mother's passing. The instant those words met Pablo's ears he collapsed upon the floor which bore an odd crimson hue upon it's surface. Despite the many hours poured into purging the ballroom of the stain, it refused to give way.  There he remained for hours on end, endlessly mourning and lamenting his dear mother.

 

-

 

A Penitent Man arose from his stupor.

For too long had he grown stagnant. For too long had he watched from the sidelines as those dear to him fell and withered. For too long had he made excuses to simply watch fate unravel. For too long had he removed himself from the world. For too long had he ignored the sins of the realms. 

The Penitent fell upon his knees and prayed.

No more would he remain hidden within ancient halls. No more would he watch helplessly. No more would he refuse to act and forsake fate. No more would he hermit from place to place. No more would he ignore the sins of his fellow man.

Ash fell from his form as he rose from his prayers, taking up his sanguine stained blade.

 

He whet his blade, and prepared it for the blood that was to be shed.

[King_Kunuk 3022]

A wicked thing within the depths hear of the news, and despite the grimness shared by many- this vile thing seems more then relieved by the news of the noble knight's death.

 

"Nnn... good..." he hisses, "N-not that I was worried that they could be a true threat to one such as I," he says not so assuredly. Despite the temptations to raise them into service, perhaps this knight was better left in the grave for his own sanity.

[teeylin 1688]

Ser Julian, who had been forced to continue the peace talks even after witnessing the death of his closest friend, did not know how to grieve properly. All he knew to do was sit; in the hookah lounge where they had met, he stared at the spot where he had tried to punch her in the face. The man remembered, and he mourned.

[tadabug2000 4918]

Xiomara had let a plea fall from her lips, as her gaze lofted to Saint Raguel just above her. "You can bring her back, can't you?" But it was too late. Her dear friends body grew cold, lost forever to those who loved her.

 

---

 

Pricilla Fontesar, Page to Ser Leomonte and daughter to Ser Cirilla Fontesar would learn of the news later. Her shoulders shook, and she crumpled to the ground as a series of wailing erupted from the fourteen year old. She never got to talk to her one last time.. To figure out why she did what she did.

[Cheeseycereal 829]

A princess, only thirteen years of age, stood with her hands folded in front of her. She watched as that woman dove for her father, a blasting potion hurtling their way. And now, she stood in a Numendil hallway, staring at the dead. She watched as her mother wept, as those around her paused to grieve.
 

Her brother clung to her, his voice shaking with panic. He begged her, Cataleya, to tell him that everything was okay, that it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t real. Yet, she could not answer her wailing brother. She only stood there, a prayer slipping under her breath.
 

A Temesch, however...
 

She heard the news while seated in San Adriano, grief a familiar weight upon her shoulders. She had been mourning for years, one would think by now, she'd have moved on. Yet the news of her husband's friend only deepened the frown on her lips. She had responded to almost no messages of concern, ignoring the outpouring of care.
 

Perhaps she should have responded. Perhaps she could have spoken more. But that was simply the consequence of someone who preferred silence.

Perhaps she would visit Hyspia. Just to see Xiomara again. Maybe speak to Dante. Send her regards, she needed to send that man a lot of regards...

[resurectionist 138]

"May she be at peace now.... I hope they'll be alright..." She sighs, going to find her friends, hoping to offer comfort.

[Tomagas 83]

Dante Fontesar was slow to the news, his hands having gotten busy writing in his office within the palace. Every few moments, he stared out of his lofty window and furrowed his brow in concern - something felt wrong - yet he continued to do what he was instructed, drafting, editing, revising... A moment came where he swore he heard a voice echo across the landscape, a familiar laugh. The man felt such dread and yet stayed in his seat, believing it to be some darkspawn taunt or trick of the wind.
Off in the distance, his wife was aiding in what would be a monumental moment of diplomacy. She would return and joke about how boring the matter was, or take a shot at Julian's beard, or perhaps just sit beside him while he wrote, mumbling grumpily about their mischievous cat. They would return home, arm in arm, and he would gaze upon her just as he did when they were young, completely and utterly in love.

And yet... a letter appeared. A simple letter from a friend, sent ahead of the summit party by a grim-faced messenger. 

The Chancellor was no longer whole; his soul parted in unending and tortorous grief. There was no sound from his lips, no cry into the open air - just tears that wet the floorboards of his office, just shakes and convulsions as he read and re-read the letter from Princesa Valencia Belen. Dante was incomplete now, half empty in every fiber of his being.The Baron broke down upon the office floor, changed, destroyed, and shattered. All he ever wanted was to raise a family with Cirilla, to watch over their children together, to grow old together. From the moment they sat beside one another and first said "Us", there was nothing else but her, nothing else.

Dante's eyes fell on a tool he had not used in quite some time, a pen designed to write the names of dead men. He would be rusty, certainly, but he would remember, surely.

He would do just what she would have done for him.