The End - PK post for Sergey Othaman [Life-Recap]

[ChainedDragons 1374]

 

 

 

[[It is a PK post for Seregy Othaman - This is to honor his memory and his life in game, please remember to not meta - Enjoy]]

           The End

This was it? This was all that he had to offer for his memory to Aveos… Dying as some undead abomination on the bridge leading into Haense. He could feel his skull crackling apart and grinding down to dust as the aurum blade was yanked back. Sergey felt a moment of clarity before his bones reduced to ash - a final look at who he was. At who he strived to be. At who he had become.

--------------

“Ma, look what Ea found!”

 

“What did vy get into now Sergey?..”

 

The 5 year old rushed into the small shack, twin Tomasz scrambling after him on his heels. 

 

“He won’t share the shiny!”

 

“It’s my shiny, Ea found it!” Sergey pouted, holding an item aloft in his hands above his reaching brother.

 

Kateryna huffed, plucking the item from the two squabbling children as she inspected it, wiping mud away from it. She eyed the two with scrutiny seeing they too were covered in mud. 

 

“Vy went to the river again didn’t vy? What did vyr father and Ea say about going there?”

 

“Not to..” Both twins say in unison, hanging their heads. 

 

“That’s right.. Vyr lucky Ea don’t tan vyr hides right now.” The mother sighed, looking the item over once more. It was a silver brooch in the shape of a unicorn. It had some scuff marks and damage from tinging against rocks. Who knows how long it had been laying in the river. 

 

“Can Ea keep it ma? Ea found it first..” Sergey asks, looking up at her with wanting eyes. 

 

“Maybe… Ea  think Ea will hold onto it for now until Ea decide what to do with it. In the meantime go wash up. The both of vy.”

 

Kateryna watched the pair run out to get a bucket of water from the well before tucking the brooch away. She could sell it. They were in need of coin… but… it  could also serve well as a gift. She would discuss it with Rorislav.

--------------

It wasn’t uncommon for Sergey to disappear for days at time, going off on some foolish adventure to hunt ‘monsters’ by himself. He had been doing such activities since he turned 16. But tonight was different. The 22 year old let out a frosty breath into the night air, snow crunching beneath his feet as he quietly left the comforts of home behind him. He didn’t intend to come back for a while. Sure he would miss the chatter of his siblings and the scoldings of his mother and father but he wanted to breathe. There was no air in cramped spaces - no room to climb and become something to stand out. You had your place and you stayed there. Sergey sought more. 

 

And so, this winter night, he left his siblings and his home life behind. This was the last time Sergey would ever see home again. The last time he would witness the silent beauty of the full moon hugging the roof of the family farm house with yak mulling about in the background. Was leaving all this worth it? He thought to himself as he left for the North.

--------------

Three years of chasing beasts in Norland left Sergey wanting. It was time to go home. He had returned on a holiday. Was it the couples one? 

 

Sergey walked through the gates of Haense, admiring the pops of color the city was draped in for the festivities. His hair had grown out over the past three years, now to his shoulders. He took great pride in its care, so he remembers.

 

“Sergey?”

 

“Sister! It’s so good to see vy Sofiya!”

 

The brother hugged his sibling, despite the squirming of protest. He was glad to see such familiar faces again.

 

“Who are vy? Ea am Sergey Othaman.” Sergey smiles casually from the tree branch he rested upon, staring down at the red devil below. 

 

When no response came, rather a glance, Sergey watched with curiosity as the devil wrote something down on paper. The Othaman hoped down to take the note, reading; I’m Reinhard.

 

“Oh can vy not speak?"

 

The cursed one pointed to his throat - perhaps a lost voice?

Sergey shrugs and nods to the snail racing about to take place. “Want to play then? We can work as a team da?”

 

Reinhard nodded.

--------------

Sergey felt a sharp pain colliding with his temple twice before his body crumbled to the ground, a limp fist tapping Karls' chest piece on the way down. He could hear bits of conversation as his ears rang.

 

“The boy challenged me himself, I told him it was a bad idea…”

 

“He wanted vy to see something- he wanted vy to understand!”

 

Who was talking? Sergey couldn’t tell, only feeling his body shift as he was carried away from the fighting pit. He had expected to lose to his elder brother. This badly though?

 

“In our family we do not hold back. We believe it is without honor.”

 

“He cares so much for vy all-”

 

“Brother?” he croaks.

 

“Shh lad. Vy’ve got Petyr, Yeliza, and  sosina..”

--------------

“I don’t need to know how to write.”

 

“Come on, just try a few letters da? It’s important for vy to know how to at least spell YAK. Try it.”

 

Sergey offers Karl a piece of charcoal. He had only begun learning how to write a few months ago but he was determined to try and teach his elder brother what little he knew too. He slowly drew out the letters on his own paper, showing them to Karl to copy.

 

Karl had copied them to the best of his ability, even if the ‘K’ was backwards. Sergey let out a laugh of joy, pleased with Karls attempt. 

 

“Who knows we may get vy writing more words yet!”

 

--------------

“The Lady is vyr second card.” 

 

Wait. Wasn’t this when his fortune was read? Sergey blinks, a moment of darkness, before the vision continues.

 

“This card is one of heavy portents. It shows that vyr fate is involved in deceit, lies, and misplaced judgement. There is a heavy regret in this one..”

--------------

Sergey takes a breath - eyes opening wide. Where- He looks around. Darkness. What? The man was floating, bare feet touching nothing. He touches his face. Both of his eyes- they were there. Sergey blinks, looking around before his eyes are drawn to the nothing before him. A spec. There was a glimmer of something. Something in the beyond. The haensei man looked around him once more, idly floating in this nothing he found himself in. There was no way back… but… his brown eyes flick forward towards the dot of possibility in the distance. Maybe.. Maybe there was something there?

 

As Sergey struggled to move his legs forward his eyes rolled back, more memories colliding with his fading consciousness. Though he was no longer aware of it, his bones were being blown away on the bridge, right before his killer's eyes.

--------------

That day…

 

“Perhaps it would be wise to have my little brother here calmed. Before I take him out behind the shed again..” 

 

Everything fell apart. Venom had entered the Othaman family’s veins. 

 

“You’re a disgrace to the family name!”

 

Things were said, unable to be taken back as realizations came too late. 

 

“Eam sorry Sergey.. We tried-”

 

“VY DIDN’T TRY HARD ENOUGH!”

 

Sergey clutched at his throat as he stumbled through the void, feet unable to make connection to some form of groundedness as he was barraged by the beginning of his life's most difficult moments in God's Theater. 

 

“My brother..he…he’s gone. They hung him.”

 

“****.”

 

A warm embrace from the Northerner is what Sergey recalls. Wilmer had always treated him as a brother since they became friends even if their meetings were few and far between. 

 

Sergey felt his body crumble, slumping to his knees as words that haunted him in the later part of his life washed over him like a tidal wave of mud. Heavy, suffocating, making it harder to move forward if at all. 

 

“Listen well, soldier. You might survive this.”

 

A flash within his mind. Sergey had survived many impossible battles, against all odds.

 

“You might live another day.”

 

Another flash. A cleave of an axe had sent his head rolling. Yet he was given another chance. 

 

“But know this, there will be no more peaceful nights.”

 

Hellish nightmares of his face melting off under his own hands plagued him as he cried out in the dark. “STOP!”

 

“There will be no more joy for you and your kin.”

 

A barrage of negative memories - words that stood out to him in his final years.

 

“Vy are niet my borsa..”

 

“I am sure the thought has crossed your mind, the temptation to succumb, to give yourself up to your assailant?”

 

“I have no patience for cowards, boy.”

 

“Hm. Ashame no one will remember him.”

 

“Nobody should remember a fool.”

 

Sergey sunk his head between his knees, tears gushing down his face. Was this his punishment? For failing to uphold his morals and the laws God laid bare before him? To relieve his worst moments over and over…

 

“Look upon the pyre and know that whatever body burns inside has met a kinder fate than you.”

 

Sergey looks up, believing for a moment to be surrounded by flame. He could make out a vague shape in the distance within the spec of light. A person. It almost looked like…

 

“Karl?” 

 

Sergey calls out, his voice echoing in the void. The figure didn’t reply nor move. The haenser reached out to him, feeling as if he was being dragged down further and further into the inky abyss with each passing moment. With each passing whisper of self hatred replaying in his mind. Sergey felt his body revolt as hand-like tendrils grabbed his face, beginning to pull his head under. 

 

“B-brother help me!” 

 

His voice becomes garbled as Sergey is dragged below. Into the void, only his hand remaining above in the spec of light.

 

No way out.

There was no forgiveness.

No way to right the wrongs.

 

Sergey let himself drift, accepting his failures. He had done wrong.

 

“You have strength, human.”

What was that?

 

“Your soul is valiant. Tormented by letters and whispers. Yet you remain steadfast, ready to strike down those who face you. You are an example for all who live in this nation.”

 

“Ea’ve got vy, Sergey.”

He knew these voices.. All of them. 

 

“You’re never going to live this down Ser Mud, I won’t let you.”

 

“Rest now. You’ve served our Kingdom well and were it niet for you, it might have been even worse.”

 

Why did he not hear them before?

 

“Vyr an honorable man Sergey, ve BSK is lucky to have brothers like vy.”

 

“There is only one man that carries that blade”

 

“Come get us sergey!”

 

“Give us his body back!”

 

“Godan is merciful to the sinners who repent. You were a tormented soul, you made a fatal mistake.”

 

They did care…

 

“Ea should have protected vy. Now they have turned vy into a weapon.”

 

“Sergey, if that is you say something!”

 

“Come back down now Sergey. You can breathe.”

 

Sergey let out a sucking gasp as his head breached the clawings of the void, grasping at the nothing and dragging himself towards the light. He could see it. He could almost reach it. Sergey strained against the void pulling him backwards, fighting against the hells his life put him through. 

 

He felt the warmth rekindle in his fingers as his hand grazed the white light.

-----------------------
Letter to those who rped with Sergey
Thank you for all the interactions, the rp, the sweet moments and the character growth. Sergey was my first meat n potatos character on the server and he had a good run. I made mistakes on him but I have learned much thanks to all those helping me get used to being on the server. I couldn't have made such a phenomenal character without all of you. Thank you again.

Edited May 29, 2025 by ChainedDragons
Formating error and text color

[cherrybud 423]

SOFIYA LINGERED OVER THAT PILE OF ASH. The man that had once towered over her, who had ruined and ruined and ruined- reduced to nothing but dust beneath her own blade. No blood to stain the bridge, no body to drag home. Just the pitiful remains of what he had become, swept away as though he had never been there at all.
 

~+~

She should've killed him sooner.

 

[King_Kunuk 3022]

Reserved

[Frostdrop1 1843]

In the days to come after the funeral, Reinhard returned to normalcy. Normalcy, for what it had become. After every loss, every scrape, every anguish one had to return to normalcy and leave little time to process. If you dared to linger on the thoughts, you were weak. If you dared to cave to weakness, you were weak. If you dared to cry, you were weak. Weak, were they, even if the devil always told Sergey he wasn't. As thoughtful - hopeful - as his words had been in the goodbye, to remember the man that bothered to make the mute devil's evening, they were but lies. Sweet, little lies. There was no better place for a marred soul, but he couldn't tell those that had gathered that. 

Alone, in the northern forests, he sat atop a boulder and turned jagged pupils skyward. Sergey was a troubled man. A hurting man. Rarely, did people see beyond themselves to extend a hand of aid. Oh, how that devil had tried to assure the man even in their last meet - even as he knew that Sergey was left in a swamp of forgotten crosses. A mind that was fogged by confusion. The devil knew this man too well. If only - if only - he could ever have told Sergey any sentiment of his own truth, perhaps Sergey might have understood that life always continued if you just let it. He remained out that night, tormented by haunted visions of the damned, and the little coo in his ear that dared to whisper of his failures, and then coyly proposed what if...

Over the next months, tensions grew higher and higher at home. More and more had the devil dreaded the loss of what did remain true to him. More and more was his head clouded by the dizzying call of who was traitor, and the suspicions raised. Crosses were made with each side claiming traitor. And even after did doubt linger on the intents of the other party. A long, festering wound had grown. Splintering. Another traitor. Everyone. No - no - not everyone. There were those that remained by his side as 'family'.

And then the devil wondered what might have happened if only he had offered Sergey the chance of immortality.

What if, thought the devil, had I not feared the consequences; would Segrey have remained by my side?

[KillerMaid 636]

Malna sat there, she stared at the book Sergey had given her. It was his story, his family... it was not hers to keep, it was not hers to hold on to and weep at what could have been. 

 

She thought of the man smiling, eating baked goods at a wedding, either his or someone else's, she thought of him getting a replacement prosthetic, finally becoming confident in himself.

 

She looked at her wall, full of half-made portraits and those made by artists. On the wall, she set a portrait of Sergey, and then another, made by her. The one next to it was a portrait made with care. Sergey sat within the portrait, greying hair and a smile on his face, smile lines prominent in age. He sat with Thorim, the orc. This was the happy life he deserved, this was what he should have gotten.

 

"Say hi sometime..." she murmured

[Gridlock 1033]

Big man Lev grieved for his baby brother, signing a hussariyan cross hoping for a safe passage into the seven skies. Regardless of his sins.

[Seazide 6]

Tomasz would sit, looking at the sky, holding a knife, whittling a piece of wood, he sighed, looking down to the ground, he stood up.

"Ea guess vy shall live on in ea thoughts, that is a safer way for you... Dear brother Sergey, vy will niet be forgotten... Ea promise."

Tomasz said, as he left the whittled thing on the ground, as Tomasz walks away from where they held Sergey's funeral, the whittle was placed down to a different one made, it displayed them as kids, fighting over a shiny, this was the memory Tomasz felt was their most memorable one.