[PK] PEGASUS

[Fluffy Horror 496]

 Jealousy. An infection in her soul that she couldn't carve out. Cruelties she swallowed with a smile, lest the poison pour from her mouth and show her for the monster she really was.

She remembered the day it happened. When her admiration of an acquaintance morphed into something else, corrupted. Hearing her confess her intentions and feelings so boldly, in a way that Julia couldn't. Seeing him smile at her. Too late. She was too late. She had lost him before she'd even begun. And she knew he wouldn't choose her. She was everything Julia wasn't. Had what he wanted. Land, titles, a position. Status, artistic talent, kindness, soft edges. And just like that, the torch she'd carried for one man for most of her life burned her up.

Ashes to ashes.
 

Admiration had turned into envy then. Seething hatred that made her scream into her pillow at night. Love turned to agony. Another casualty of a too-loved Prince. Would he even care, if she disappeared? So she did.

Dust to dust.

Time heals all wounds. With determination, she lances the infection. She carves the man who never wrote her a single letter, who never even tried to find out if she was alive or dead, out of her heart. She lets go.

Begrudgingly, admiration comes back. She cannot help herself. Lorena is everything she aspires to be. This Empire drowns women, or burns them. Suffocated by the weight of expectation, or castigated at the stake if they dare to climb out of the water. Julia has an uphill battle. Women like Lorena pave the way. Women who refuse to be put into their place, who strive for more. She is worthy of her respect.

When they meet again, after many, many years, there is only warmth in Julia's heart. Perhaps this time around, without the burden of her own weak heart, they will be friends. She has learned, by now, that it is better to share a ladder than to cut one's own climbing rope out of spite. She is optimistic when they part.

Lorena dies later that day.

To dust you shall return.

She finds out after the fact, and is shocked. She never really knew her well at all. The woman she couldn't help but admire, chose the stake. How long had she been close to snapping? How long had she suffered alone?

Shame. For the way she acted. For the poison she thought. For the way she tore down another woman over a man.

Regret. For not seeing that something was very wrong that day. For not taking the opportunity to get to know her better. For a potential friendship, slipped through her fingers.

Sorrow. For all the family and loved ones that Lorena had left behind.

 

She prayed for her that day.

Requiescat in pace.

A final farewell to a better woman than Julia would ever be.

 

Spoiler

We interacted only a few times, but Lorena was a very, VERY big part of Julia's internal journey. Lorena lived in her head rent-free for a WHILE. You were a pleasure to write with, and I enjoyed all of our interactions. Sad to see her go.

 

Edited November 4, 2025 by Fluffy Horror

[_xMika 284]

In the halls of a church there sat a wretched boy Edgar Ledicort de Senna, burnt beyond recognition though the pains of such scars meant nothing to him for the sorrow he felt for his aunt, the one he'd call his own mother stung deep within his core causing his recovering wounds to almost numb in comparison "Forgive me Lord, for the curse of wrath set upon me by the bastard children of iblees has only grown since I've last spoken, the trial you have placed before me is hard but not one i will falter. . For the sake of my family, i shall quench my anger with the waters of forgiveness and listen to your grace" The poor lad was a mess, in his silence he had been weeping for his aunt, tears so vast they could bless the world with a lake of pain though for now. . It's time for rest, he places his faith in the lord he worships and his grandfather hoping that a better future will be brought to his cursed family. 

[Morigung-oog 5697]

Ever a girl’s girl, Valindra would visit the grave of her dead acquaintance wherever it might be, wherever she may lay, and uttered an aplology. The loudest voices were those who were silenced the quickest.

[xDisarray 552]

Ser Aurellius would find himself tending to his livestock, as per usual since he's gotten much older.

 

He'd receive a missive from his son, Adrian.

 

The shock on his face as he read it, finding out the news of the death of his friend, Lorena. Were the two not just meeting, discussing possible trade agreements? Were they not just talking about how things are going well for them within the Empire?

 

Lies, us as humans tend to lie when it comes to little things like this. When asked how we're doing we tend to say we're doing well when things are in fact, going to shit.

 

When will those within the Empire realize that, just because they are United under one, does their safety mean nothing? More rules to follow, more strict rules than others. Hell, even if one isn't liked they are treated as if they are a foreigner.

 

Lorena was a hard worker, I'd always hear about her complaints about how her work was never appreciated. She'd put in day in and day out and would not be rewarded for any of her work. In fact her work would be claimed by others.

 

How many more innocent lives need to be taken, before they realize no where is safe.

 

[LuckyD 141]

Relad had known Miss Senna for a very brief time, only a year or two. But she had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, to all she had introduced him to. She did not pry upon his own past, she thanked him for the work he did upon her farm at every interaction, and she treated him as an equal even in a subservient position.

 

When he had gone to tell her someone had tried to break into the farm, he saw her in the window of the office of Inquisition. Who would believe the words of a serf? His toungue held the weight of cotton down.

 

"She gave me a horse, I did not know."

 

"She is no witch, she uses a magical necklace to speak."

 

"She is a good woman, why is-"

 

Then, the blade fell. The sound of the crowd clamoring for her death grew. Cheers for the Empire. Rats. Vermin, all. To so callously execute a good human being, to bind her family and have them watch. Was she defended? He did not know, for he never got the chance to speak in her defense.

 

Relad had so much he wanted to tell her of. That he had travelled far to learn of Housemagic so he might better the farm. That he wished to introduce her to good people he had met outside the Empire. But she was always so busy, always she seemed to have things to do.

 

"I do not envy your position, Miss Senna. You always run about so."

 

> "Don't, Relad."

 

He did not know the deeper meaning behind her words. He was too simple a man, not tempered by war or hardship in the same way many were. But he knew injustice when he witnessed it. He just also knew he had no power here, that any display of refusal would lead to his own death, and that he didn't believe she would have wanted that for him.

 

Relad spent a few nights in his home, after having washed his hands of the "Crime of Unknowing" - apparantly simply having worked for her was enough for him to need to do labor for the Crown in the form of a mining run - Relad would take a deep breath.

 

The axe would split the furnature he hand-made in his home into firewood.

 

The blade would slit the throats of the livestock he could access, as he had never seen a soul upon the farm working save his own, or Miss Senna.

 

He would take what little he owned that was not burned, leaving strewn about the floor whatever food or goods he could not carry.

 

Relad would take his horse and ride as hard as he could out of Imperial lands. This place was a den of snakes. He would not feed the mouths that clamored for her death.

 

The following nights are a blur to him. Travel, salt the meat in the saddlebags, rest under the moon, be pitied by kind folk, trade for directions. Aimless, wandering again, just like before.

 

Relad, some weeks into his running, into his anxiety that the Empire would care to look for a runaway Serf who killed his own livestock, would warm his hands at a fire against a tree in the woods of a land he had never been.

 

And the man who had worked the soil for the Empire shed tears, finally.

 

And the man who had made a friend in Miss Senna allowed himself to mourn her loss, finally.

 

And the man who saw the Empire chew up and swallow what kindness welcomed him into their walls felt bitterness, finally.

 

And the man with no faith shared would find himself longing to find something to believe in, finally.

 

And Relad would say what he wished he could have said one more time to Miss Senna,

"Thank you for everything, Miss Senna. You prove again to be admirable, amazing, wonderful."

 

"I am sorry I couldn't tell you how grateful I was. I am sorry I could not see the pain behind your gaze, or the danger you were in."

 

> "I bought his steed with my own coin!!",

-she had said. In her last moments. She tried to protect him, even then.

 

And the man who had been named Relad Orison wept for what was lost, into the night.

 

"You will not be forgotten. All I meet will know your story, what you did for me, the good woman you were, and how you were thanked by your Empire."

 

"May the snakes eat their tails or poison the world, so be it. But I will not have part of it."

 

So, in a mixture of hate, anguish, and loss, Relad would wake the next morning and continue to travel. Away from the Empire. Out of the den of vipers. Away from liars and kings and wormongers and princes.

 

Despite all he carried, her memory bore down the hardest, and he found himself muttering as he rode.

 

"...I hope you can rest now, Miss Senna. No more running about for you."

Edited November 4, 2025 by LuckyD

[TaraJess 2848]

4 hours ago, LuckyD said:

Relad had known Miss Senna for a very brief time, only a year or two. But she had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, to all she had introduced him to. She did not pry upon his own past, she thanked him for the work he did upon her farm at every interaction, and she treated him as an equal even in a subservient position.

 

When he had gone to tell her someone had tried to break into the farm, he saw her in the window of the office of Inquisition. Who would believe the words of a serf? His toungue held the weight of cotton down.

 

"She gave me a horse, I did not know."

 

"She is no witch, she uses a magical necklace to speak."

 

"She is a good woman, why is-"

 

Then, the blade fell. The sound of the crowd clamoring for her death grew. Cheers for the Empire. Rats. Vermin, all. To so callously execute a good human being, to bind her family and have them watch. Was she defended? He did not know, for he never got the chance to speak in her defense.

 

Relad had so much he wanted to tell her of. That he had travelled far to learn of Housemagic so he might better the farm. That he wished to introduce her to good people he had met outside the Empire. But she was always so busy, always she seemed to have things to do.

 

"I do not envy your position, Miss Senna. You always run about so."

 

> "Don't, Relad."

 

He did not know the deeper meaning behind her words. He was too simple a man, not tempered by war or hardship in the same way many were. But he knew injustice when he witnessed it. He just also knew he had no power here, that any display of refusal would lead to his own death, and that he didn't believe she would have wanted that for him.

 

Relad spent a few nights in his home, after having washed his hands of the "Crime of Unknowing" - apparantly simply having worked for her was enough for him to need to do labor for the Crown in the form of a mining run - Relad would take a deep breath.

 

The axe would split the furnature he hand-made in his home into firewood.

 

The blade would slit the throats of the livestock he could access, as he had never seen a soul upon the farm working save his own, or Miss Senna.

 

He would take what little he owned that was not burned, leaving strewn about the floor whatever food or goods he could not carry.

 

Relad would take his horse and ride as hard as he could out of Imperial lands. This place was a den of snakes. He would not feed the mouths that clamored for her death.

 

The following nights are a blur to him. Travel, salt the meat in the saddlebags, rest under the moon, be pitied by kind folk, trade for directions. Aimless, wandering again, just like before.

 

Relad, some weeks into his running, into his anxiety that the Empire would care to look for a runaway Serf who killed his own livestock, would warm his hands at a fire against a tree in the woods of a land he had never been.

 

And the man who had worked the soil for the Empire shed tears, finally.

 

And the man who had made a friend in Miss Senna allowed himself to mourn her loss, finally.

 

And the man who saw the Empire chew up and swallow what kindness welcomed him into their walls felt bitterness, finally.

 

And the man with no faith shared would find himself longing to find something to believe in, finally.

 

And Relad would say what he wished he could have said one more time to Miss Senna,

"Thank you for everything, Miss Senna. You prove again to be admirable, amazing, wonderful."

 

"I am sorry I couldn't tell you how grateful I was. I am sorry I could not see the pain behind your gaze, or the danger you were in."

 

> "I bought his steed with my own coin!!",

-she had said. In her last moments. She tried to protect him, even then.

 

And the man who had been named Relad Orison wept for what was lost, into the night.

 

"You will not be forgotten. All I meet will know your story, what you did for me, the good woman you were, and how you were thanked by your Empire."

 

"May the snakes eat their tails or poison the world, so be it. But I will not have part of it."

 

So, in a mixture of hate, anguish, and loss, Relad would wake the next morning and continue to travel. Away from the Empire. Out of the den of vipers. Away from liars and kings and wormongers and princes.

 

Despite all he carried, her memory bore down the hardest, and he found himself muttering as he rode.

 

"...I hope you can rest now, Miss Senna. No more running about for you."

Spoiler

YALL TAKE CARE OF MY PINK TAG WELCOME TO LOTC ILYSM

 

 

[Hunnic 482]

Sergius had heard of the news of House de Senna's release, and only rumors of Lady Lorena's unfortunate end. "Ah did not know the lass, yet I've heard her name spoken out with respect - a woman of a house I always perceived to be tied to the Empire's cause." He then rubbed his temples, a frown creasing his brow. "Ah hope - nay, I trust - there are good reasons behind all of this, reasons unknown to a common man such as meself." 
He fell quiet for a moment before muttering, half out of habit, half in faith-
"Ave Imperium."
 

Spoiler

What an amazing post! Seems like such an interesting character too - I wish I had the pleasure of rping with her. Also very impressive response by the new player's response, right above my own.

 

[PrinceTheDM 275]

3 hours ago, LuckyD said:

Relad had known Miss Senna for a very brief time, only a year or two. But she had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, to all she had introduced him to. She did not pry upon his own past, she thanked him for the work he did upon her farm at every interaction, and she treated him as an equal even in a subservient position.

 

When he had gone to tell her someone had tried to break into the farm, he saw her in the window of the office of Inquisition. Who would believe the words of a serf? His toungue held the weight of cotton down.

 

"She gave me a horse, I did not know."

 

"She is no witch, she uses a magical necklace to speak."

 

"She is a good woman, why is-"

 

Then, the blade fell. The sound of the crowd clamoring for her death grew. Cheers for the Empire. Rats. Vermin, all. To so callously execute a good human being, to bind her family and have them watch. Was she defended? He did not know, for he never got the chance to speak in her defense.

 

Relad had so much he wanted to tell her of. That he had travelled far to learn of Housemagic so he might better the farm. That he wished to introduce her to good people he had met outside the Empire. But she was always so busy, always she seemed to have things to do.

 

"I do not envy your position, Miss Senna. You always run about so."

 

> "Don't, Relad."

 

He did not know the deeper meaning behind her words. He was too simple a man, not tempered by war or hardship in the same way many were. But he knew injustice when he witnessed it. He just also knew he had no power here, that any display of refusal would lead to his own death, and that he didn't believe she would have wanted that for him.

 

Relad spent a few nights in his home, after having washed his hands of the "Crime of Unknowing" - apparantly simply having worked for her was enough for him to need to do labor for the Crown in the form of a mining run - Relad would take a deep breath.

 

The axe would split the furnature he hand-made in his home into firewood.

 

The blade would slit the throats of the livestock he could access, as he had never seen a soul upon the farm working save his own, or Miss Senna.

 

He would take what little he owned that was not burned, leaving strewn about the floor whatever food or goods he could not carry.

 

Relad would take his horse and ride as hard as he could out of Imperial lands. This place was a den of snakes. He would not feed the mouths that clamored for her death.

 

The following nights are a blur to him. Travel, salt the meat in the saddlebags, rest under the moon, be pitied by kind folk, trade for directions. Aimless, wandering again, just like before.

 

Relad, some weeks into his running, into his anxiety that the Empire would care to look for a runaway Serf who killed his own livestock, would warm his hands at a fire against a tree in the woods of a land he had never been.

 

And the man who had worked the soil for the Empire shed tears, finally.

 

And the man who had made a friend in Miss Senna allowed himself to mourn her loss, finally.

 

And the man who saw the Empire chew up and swallow what kindness welcomed him into their walls felt bitterness, finally.

 

And the man with no faith shared would find himself longing to find something to believe in, finally.

 

And Relad would say what he wished he could have said one more time to Miss Senna,

"Thank you for everything, Miss Senna. You prove again to be admirable, amazing, wonderful."

 

"I am sorry I couldn't tell you how grateful I was. I am sorry I could not see the pain behind your gaze, or the danger you were in."

 

> "I bought his steed with my own coin!!",

-she had said. In her last moments. She tried to protect him, even then.

 

And the man who had been named Relad Orison wept for what was lost, into the night.

 

"You will not be forgotten. All I meet will know your story, what you did for me, the good woman you were, and how you were thanked by your Empire."

 

"May the snakes eat their tails or poison the world, so be it. But I will not have part of it."

 

So, in a mixture of hate, anguish, and loss, Relad would wake the next morning and continue to travel. Away from the Empire. Out of the den of vipers. Away from liars and kings and wormongers and princes.

 

Despite all he carried, her memory bore down the hardest, and he found himself muttering as he rode.

 

"...I hope you can rest now, Miss Senna. No more running about for you."

Spoiler

How beautifully written... You're going to go far.

 

[PoliteEquation7 187]

Adrian sat in the backyard with his elder brother, it had been a long time since they had caught up. The door slammed open:

"Lorena's dead"

 

While he made no physical or verbal reaction to the tragedy, the thoughts swirled in Adrian's head. . .

 

 

"I just saw her a few days ago, who could've done this"

 

"It's impossible, Lorena's too resilient to die"

 

Adrian had always held Lorena in high regard for as long as he had know her, she was everything he was not. It wasn't a type of envy he held for her, but a deep respect for Senna. In recent years he had seen her waver, but give up? Never. She held an eternal fire that melted the inferior men she had to answer to. He recalled in the past year after such incident, he went to check up on her at the river.

 

"You alright, Lorena?"

 

She ranted, he listened. They were things he had heard before, the stupidity of the Empire didn't surprise him anymore, but even when she had still dealt with it a thousand times more than he had, Lorena still cared.  But now his friend was gone, she had given the Empire her body, mind, and now her blood. Her courage though, she gave that to the people who knew her. It was something Adrian had no plans of ever relinquishing.

 

"Adrian, we need to leave now. Are you coming?"

 

He gave them a nod and signed the lorraine, whispering to himself,

 

"Rest well my friend"

[KeiaTypeBeat 3277]

A young Mali'aheral was late to hear the news. She waited until even later to process it. She waited for just the right stormy night, when the chill of her bedroom would keep her glued beneath her covers. 

 

That night came. 

 

Neia Whitewood rested in her bed, covers tucked to her chin, her fingers curled against the hem of her blanket. She stared at the ceiling above her as the sounds of cracking thunder and pattering rain drowned out the world. 

 

"I miss you, Auntie," the girl whispered in a breaking voice. "I guess it was going to happen sooner or later." Tears began to stream from her eyes. "I'm just an elf in a family of humans. You're all g-going to d-die, eventually." Her face scrunched inwards, and her eyes shut tightly. Her breath began to catch in her throat. "And I'll just be here. Missing you." She began to sob. "Missing all of them! Forever!" She began to shout. "I'LL BE CURSED TO NEVER STOP MISSING YOU!" She threw a pillow over her face, and she wailed in the dead of night.