FLAME GUIDE (PK)

[juliaINC 592]

 

THE      LAST    TESTAMENT

OF PRINCESS WILHELMINA

Issued by the Princess of Sutica and Minitz

In the year of our Lord, 628

 

 

 

Princess Wilhelmina von Brandthof portrayed

 with her daughter Johanna and son Siegfried.

 

When amidst the harrowing winds of winter a babe is brought to the world, a good mother knows to cradle it to sleep by the hearth and often feed it warm milk. Only then can it continue to grow healthy, tall, and happy.

 

Yet even the fittest body, the hardest muscle and the sharpest mind does not grant any Man to evade the one equal and finite law that is death. The winter-born daughter of Brandthof, who despite the biting frost had not been held in warmth, had many occasions to learn this well. The first of which was that the Baron and Baroness of Brandthof let their love fade and parted ways, leaving their children behind.

 

“These days my home harbors a quietness so intense it hurts the ears.” She once told the mother of her husband, High Chieftess of the Reinmaren. In her eyes, Frederica was a gift sent to her by the Lord to keep her from wilting of sorrow. “I hope the earth breaks open beneath me first, before I inflict a hurt like this upon my children.”

 

“Let the Flame guide you, and you will be a good mother, my dear.” Frederica spoke gently, her soft fingers reaching to soothe the dry and lanky hands of her ward. “No doubt, a better Chieftess—yet a good mother still.”

 

Before Frederica could see it come true, she had died sleeping in her bed. After that went her beloved aunts, Gertrude and Josefina. Some, like Wilhelmina’s ward, Felicie, had their guts clawed inside out by the merciless werebeasts terrorizing the tribe. Some were slain the day the enemy breached into the Palace during the War of Crown and Crozier. Pyre by pyre, their corpses burned into eternal peace, and the Chieftess’ heart bled for each.

 

As a bleeding heart runs dry, a sharp mind dulls over time with age. Faces started to fade away from her memory, her tongue tangled on names and words. A proud woman such as she could not stand to become a bed-ridden, spoon-fed burden.

 

Upon the second year of Wilhelmina’s descent into, what she knew would finish in her end, she told her physician and chambermaids to go away and not bother her until they’d be preparing her body for the pyre. Then she arranged for herself and Erwin to walk through the gardens.

 

“Listen to me, my husband.” She spoke to him by a secluded pond, where no one could listen to them talk. “I have grown old. My will is strong, but I can feel time stealing the reins of my mind from my hands. If I do not let go now, it will steer me into senile madness. It is time for me.”

 

“If this is what you believe you must, do so.” The Chieftain did reply. Sadness visibly crept into his gaze, yet for now, his will did not yield to emotion. “Perhaps our ancestors already await you.”

 

The Chieftess’ hands lifted the diadem off her brow. The gold clanging on the wood of the tabletop rang in the heavy silence. She looked at it for the last time.

 

Then she wrangled herself out of the royal gown, remaining in just the chemise, and placed the green tribal cloak around her shoulders. Her gaze befell the crookedly embroidered black Barclay eagle upon the tablecloth her children had once gifted her. She touched it for the last time. 

 

Just then, when she meant to leave, the prayer beads hanging by her door caught her eye. She reached out and took them with her on the one last journey. 

Thus did Wilhelmina go, despite the cold winds that heralded winter’s return; nothing but the cloak upon her shoulders, prayer beads within her hand, and peace within her mind. It did not matter. She did not need anything when she had the Flame to guide her, where cold would trouble her no more.

 

 

 

The semblance of Wilhelmina upon the last tapestry

ever made by her hand.

 

Of  Wilhelmina von Brandthof, Princess of Sutica and Minitz

 

 I, Wilhelmina Esther von Brandthof, declare this document as the sole testament of my will. I entrust my son Rudolf Barclay and my nephew, Ludolf von Brandthof to execute it accordingly. 

 

Unto my husband, Erwin I Barclay, I bestow the seax from my hip, that it may rest at his side as I did for all of our shared years. Furthermore, I grant unto him the dried bouquet of flowers I carried on the day of our union and the living statuettes of Leon Barclay and Frederica Barclay.

 

To my eldest son, Siegfried Otto Barclay, I leave all of the weapons of my collection—save those here bestowed unto others—and my embroidered warrior’s belt.

 

All of my regal raiments, furs, long cloaks, clasps and silken slippers, together with the knitting needles of Chieftess Frederica Barclay, are to be borne unto the quarters of the Baron of Sigradz, for his betrothed and future Chieftess to own and to wear. 

 

My cherished grey wolf pelt I pass unto my dear son, Rudolf Lothar Barclay.

 

All books of my personal library are to be gifted unto the Abbey of venerable Anton and kept in the care of Frederica Wilhelmina Barclay. My Lorraine pendant shall likewise be hers to wear. 

 

I wish that Freda von Byrde inherit my shortbow.

 

The remaining two of my children; Johanna and Owyn Barclay, may divide the rest of my personal belongings, unmentioned in this testament.

 

THE FOLLOWING RELICS ARE TO BE DONATED TO THE HALL OF HEROES of Leonstadt; the Gelimarison throwing axe and throwing spear from the last War Games in Kretzen; an antique vase from the time of Mori Wars; Prince Leon’s poem to his sister, Gertrude; and the Ernshjelm of Konstanz Barclay.

 

THE TROPHIES LEFT AFTER PRINCESS ADALFRIEDE OF HEXENWALD are to be placed into the keeping of Erwin Barclay.

 

THE JEWELS OF PRINCESS FREDERICA AND PRINCESS ADALFRIEDE, per Frederica’s own wish, are to be returned into the princely treasury. 

 

CONCERNING MY WOLF, it is my will that he be put down with gentleness and laid beside me upon my pyre, for I require my hunting companion with me in the Realm of Spirits.

 

THE MARKS IN MY POSSESSION are to be delivered unto the treasury of Leonstadt.

 

WER RASTET, DER ROSTET

,  Princess of Sutica and Minitz

Spoiler

If you don’t have direct access to the items, contact Meleutherius or alienescence.

Thank you to Timer2k, crazedpudding, BuilderBagel2k, Toffee, dmitri2k, Meleutherius, alienescence, h8zel_, Mercy, _nitsua, Violet3verGarden and sapphic_spidy for the good roleplay I've had on this character :-J

 

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[Crevel 7557]

Father Martin scratches at the inside of his palms, hearing of Wilhelmina's demise. While he did not have much interaction with her admittedly, she had still ultimately been a significant figure in Reinmar and one of his flock. He mourns, and he prays. 

[Sarven 2619]

"I was an honour to be of service" 

Theodemar's head hung low as he affectionately observed the Kretzenfest trinkets he had forged just the other day....

His hammer was silent, the old man reminisced to their share history in melancholy.

Yet there was work to be done,

The hammer was raised once more

And once more a steady rhythm emanated from the forge

 

 

[yeeter2k 247]

Sir Johann von Weisenstein wept, for of all the threats he could defend the Furst and Fursten from, age was not amongst them... he raised a fist to his chest, recalling the motto of the Reinmaren warriors.

"Wer Rastet, Der Rostet."

[Morphine 823]

Siegfried silently grieved his late mother's departure. Taking the time to reflect on family portraits and childhood trinkets, her memory is forever cherished in his heart.

[crazedpudding 2512]

Frederica, once-chieftess, mother to a lone son, grandmother to children unmet, waited. In the mists of a land forgotten, between ancient trees, she waited. Not for any of her blood, but for a girl who shared her fate, sent into it by her own hand.

 

It ached, at times. Wounds long forgotten, pain long left behind, as she watched the life of the woman she had called daughter. 

 

But now, mortal pain had ended, and so she waited. For however long it took.

[alienescence 1415]

Sister Frederica recalled her last conversation with her grandmother; she had seemed off. And it all made sense in the moment the news of her passing had reached the nun. Frederica placed Wilhelmina's lorraine onto the altar, lowering her head in reverence. 

 

[sapphic_spidy 1089]

"It was just a fluke."

Except it wasn't. She all but scolded him for saying it was.

 

That's the memory that comes to Castien's mind when the news hits him. One of the first people to encourage him on anything involving physical prowess. He hasn't shot a bow in years. Would he be any good anymore? The curiosity digs under his skin.

 

He has had a rough year, and it doesn't seem to be getting better. 

No, it really doesn't seem to be getting better.