[PK] The Final Pyre

[Dramatude 861]

Spoiler

 

 

 

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

The wedding portrait of Nikolaus Kortrevich and Adelina van Leuven

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

 

A life without loss is no life at all.

 

The road to Furentaliz stretched before her, winding through the woods of the Midlands where the trees swayed with the breeze, the air crisp with the scent of earth and recent rains. It was a familiar path, one Adelina had traveled countless times before. And yet, as she sat within the confines of her carriage, gazing through the frost-kissed window, she could not shake the weight of finality that pressed upon her. It was this finality, confided with Nikolaus, that stirred him to accompany his wife on the journey.

 

This was her last journey to what was once her home.

 

The rhythmic creaking of the wheels against the dirt road lulled her into reverie, and her thoughts drifted to the past – to the echoes of laughter that had once filled the halls of her keep, to the warmth of candlelit feasts and the quiet solitude of nights spent by the fire. She had watched each of her children grow within the walls of the keep. She watched them grow from children running barefoot in the gardens, messy and stained from berries crushed between their fingers, to the mature, strong adults they were today.

 

Life is memories– good and bad. 

 

She had built something in Furentaliz. More than just the stone and mortar, more than the banners that bore the van Leuven coat of arms– she had crafted a legacy. It was here that she strengthened the standing of her House, upheld its traditions, and paved the way for the future generations to come. The sacrifices she made for the betterment of her family was all she had ever known. She had fought for her kin, suffered for them, bled for them. And despite it all, she had loved them. She had loved them with every ounce of her being. She loved them fiercely.

 

Life is love.

 

The past had not always been kind to her. She had known loss, disappointment, and the quiet ache of longing for things that she would never have. She made sacrifices, some heavier than others. But she endured. She had endured because it was all she had ever known.

 

Softly, she exhaled, watching her breath fog the glass and obscure the world beyond. The trees, tall and ancient, bore witness to her passage. Perhaps they, too, held memories of her as the young girl she had once been. Or perhaps, they, like time itself, had simply moved on. 

 

Life is wild and unpredictable.

 

A sudden jolt wretched her from her thoughts. The horses cried out, their hooves scrambling as the carriage lurched violently to the side.

 

The aging Adelina and Nikolaus barely had time to brace themselves before the peaceful carriage ride spun into chaos. 

 

The carriage pitched, the sickening crunch of splintering wood filling the air as it careened off the path, tumbling down a rocky embankment. Glass shattered, the frame groaned, as their bodies were thrown against the interior with brutal force. Pain exploded through Adelina like lightning through a cloud. Debris collapsed around her, pinning her in place. Next to her, Nikolaus lay unconscious, blood trickling down his face from a deep wound to the head, his rounded silver glasses cracked from the force.

 

“Help!” she called out, hoping the footman would come to her aid. 

 

But there was nothing. No movement heard outside the enclosed space. Nothing but the heaving panting of herself. That, and silence.

 

Life comes at you from a million different directions.

 

Then– fire.

 

The sharp scent of oil filled her nose as the broken lantern teetered, its contents spilling across the wreckage. The flames were small at first, licking hungrily at the dry wood. But quickly did they spread, feeding off the shattered remains of the carriage, climbing, consuming.

 

“No. Godan, no.”

 

She tried to move, but the weight of the wreckage held her fast. Every attempt sent fresh pain searing through her limbs. Her breath grew shallow, smoke curling into her lungs, thick and suffocating.

 

Life is unforgiving.

 

“Godan, please…” Tears began blurring her eyes as she muttered prayers. Faith had carried her through life. An unwavering, zealous devotion to her faith kept her alive thus far, surely it would keep her alive now. Panic clawed at the edges of her mind, but she forced it down. Never had she been one to beg– not even the presence of death would change that.

 

The fire crackled, creeping closer, embers dancing like sprites of a grove. The heat blistered against her skin, the acrid smoke burning her throat. Her vision blurred, and in the flickering glow, she saw the ghosts of her past– the faces of those she had loved, those she had lost. She saw her parents who had died by fire. She saw her sickly sibling that had passed. She saw the faces of those she loved that still lived.

 

She thought of her home, of Furentaliz, standing strong against the invasion of those who sought to tear it down. She thought of the halls she had walked, the land she had nurtured, the family she cherished. 

 

It would endure. Even without her, it would endure.

 

But most of all,

 

The fire took her in full, the flames roaring around her. She slowed her breathing and shut her eyes, not in fear, but with peace. She would not beg to live. If Godan sought to call her home, she would go with the grace she had perfected for all these years.  She would go knowing she had lived a life carved deep into the stone of history.

 

And though the forest would grow silent once more, though the embers would dim and the smoke would drift away…

 

She would be remembered. Now she could rest peacefully in the Seven Skies.

 

As the last flickers of flame burned out, the rain began to fall again, steady and persistent, like nature itself reclaiming what had been taken from it. Among the charred ruins, Adelina’s body lay still, hand in hand with her husband, their faces and clothes burned but still recognizable. A small, single box was found beneath the rubble, its contents intact: a tarnished ring, a House crest, and her last will, scorched at the edges. Nature had washed over the scene, leaving only the remnants of her legacy in the silence.

 

Life is death…

 

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

 

Spoiler

This post was a very hard one to write, worse than my first persona PK actually. So thank you to everyone who takes the time to read it. Thank you @ElvenHuntress for making Niko a WONDERFUL husband to Adelina, and allowing them to die tragically together LOL. Special thanks to @Sandman_Plays for the super interactive event put together for the finding of Adelina and Nikolaus’ remains! I originally wanted to wait to PK Adelina until it happened IRP, but I am so grateful to Sandman for making the after scenes of her death memorable.

Also a big thanks to everyone that has helped develop Adelina into the woman she became, much love to you all!

 

[xo31 3979]

In her final moments, a soul within her mind gave her ease, and acceptance. A dormant one, who seemed to be content with watching from the backlines. Perhaps in another life, it'd have been different.

 

-

 

As Adelina's soul ascended, so did the one within her ascend.

 

Aleksey had finally found his peace, and when Adelina would arrive at the gates of the Seven Skies, she'd do so with Aleksey in quick tow.

[PeachLova 585]

Then came the crack of Yvaine van Leuven’s fist against the nose of the mousy bard. The blow sent him stumbling back a few paces, blood rushing from his nose to stain the worn fabric of his tunic and the battered floors of the Tarcher.

 

Yet, for all the sting the strike should have summoned in him, the orphaned Cardan could only laugh. He laughed as he looked upon the girlish fury written across Adelina van Leuven’s face. The flush rose in her cheeks as she struggled to process his earlier jests at her and her cousin’s expense.

And for all the curses Adelina and Yvaine hurled at the bard, neither could have known how deeply their lives would intertwine. That one day, such ire would cease to pass from the latter’s lips. Leaving the pale-haired heiress to her own devices, to scorn his very name when word reached her of Yvaine and Cardan’s quiet nuptials. He had been just down the hall from her then, where he would remain for many years more. In time, he would become a Lord beneath her name:

A stag, joined to the doe, rising together into the ranks of legend.

꒰ ♱ ⊱────────────⊰ ✶ ⊱────────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

And one day, the hate gave way to indifference.
And indifference, in time, softened into fondness.
And at last, fondness bloomed into love.

Little regard had ever been given to the technicalities of their relation; they had become bonded as siblings might, forged not by blood, but by shared struggle. For every time one fell, the other was there to lift them, again and again, in an endless cycle. Until: 

"Are you happy?" She asked, twiddling her fingers as she sought to busy herself with just anything. 
 

"I may be in love, but time will tell."
 

They spoke of how he deserved it. Peace, at long last. After a lifetime of service, he ought to retire to the Heartlands, to the lands of his people. To be held in the embrace of the one he had grown fond of. No longer burdened by the intricacies of court, nor the revelry of those who whispered in the shadows. No longer bound by the war that had so long loomed over their heads.

 

They spoke of their dearest Louna Marie. Of the children who would carry the Leuven name into the years to come. A future on the horizon, ready to rise as their own twilight settled.

 

They spoke of a promise to come together, soon enough. Perhaps over dinner, where they might speak of their respective loves. Trade stories of their children, and those children’s children. Speak of the weather. Of the crops, and how they were fairing. Of every small, seemingly meaningless thing they had come to cherish in the quietude a long life had finally offered them.
 

Then came the eve of the day they were meant to reunite. His maids had long grown weary of keeping the roast warm. The bottle of red he had set aside for the occasion sat empty beside him. And still, there was no word of her arrival. Only a letter, penned by her youngest daughter, hands shaking, delivered in a flurry of panic. The words were so frantic, so raw, that he paid no mind to caution, nor to those he resided with. 

 

His departure was swift. And his steed, as though it too understood, barreled down the road, racing to find its way home.

[zuziee 4004]

Elliot dabbed up his sister in the seven skies “Girlll you look great!” 

[DahStalker 3692]

As those soft wisps of flame churned into one of mellow aureate, that hardly imposing figure of Adela Taronitissa came into view. Softly did she beckon a breath inward, lips finding vague quiver in their demeanor within her tread forth, gait broken and lame through its laden guilt. “I’m sorry-…” Those were the first words toward her daughter. After years of unintended abandonment, this is all she could muster. “I’m sorry I-….” Nimble arms ventured in incredible speed, hoping to entangle that once girl now woman into their fold again. “I’m sorry I had to leave you.” For all those years of suffering and watching the turmoil her daughter endured: of raising a family, reforming the house alongside her siblings, and managing similar horrid death - the secondary guilt of relief consumed her, to be able to be reunited with her firstborn at last. And then, she wept. The faint scent of soot forever staining both of them ‘neathe the orchids of van Leuven. 

[RingAroundRosey 498]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gVbCVLu0Hk

 

“It’s cold outside, today.”

 

The first bit of normal conversation, after her world had completely unraveled. Was it suppose to be some sort of divine punishment? Did God taunt her with tragedy? First it was her kingdom, then it was her barony, and now it was both of her parents. A heavy weight for anyone to take on, but even more so for the woman who had never felt true grief. Never has she had to grieve that which has left this realm.

 

It felt like she was burning.

 

A panic from her family as they had not heard from their parents. Her sister having left a hole in her heart with her departure but the seriousness of the situation was known above all else. They went out searching for them and unfortunately found the truth. 

 

“Behold, the new matriarch of House van Leuven.”

 

The ring that her own mother had worn tossed and caught by her. The world started to spin. All she could smell was the rot, and her throat only caught that of ash and soot. Her gaze found that of blazing flames as it reached out to consume her too. She doesn’t recall when she had fallen to her knees, as she stared to the ring. She didn’t see that of a house heirloom, instead - she saw her mother murmuring the wisdom of the past. She saw her mother placing her hauchmetvas gift upon her neck and noting the pride she felt for her heiress. She saw her father’s valiant optimism and reassurance. She saw her father offering that of a sword and dagger dressed in the symbols of her family. She saw her mother’s golden hair to which she would envy for a lifetime, and she saw the crow’s hair that was shared between father and daughter. Now, she only saw their bones. 

 

“Recognize me van Leuven - I warned them as I warn you, your time is nigh. Fight if you wish but it shall be futile…learn from this that I am inevitable.”

 

A haunting voice floating along winds which carried the whispers of murder. She couldn’t hear it well. With all of the arguing of the Leuven men, the attempted comfort of the Colborn, the shocked words of a sister, the pity of a knight, and the wilt of a Kortrevich - there was something that pierced the atmosphere above all of that. The ear-splitting wails of a once fawn, the sound of grief. It deafened her to everything else.

 

The moon could only weep.

 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

 

Edited April 9, 2025 by RingAroundRosey