pk post [PK] Final Days of Guillaume

[CasualNuker 1113]

 

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐞

 

𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭

 

began his day in the forests north of Idunia like any other, scavenging for local game and stealing the occasional farmer's crop from the outlying Petran Farms. It had been heavy on his mind for nearly ten years by this point, the wrongs he had committed in his short thirty-two-year life, the betrayal towards his Father, and his two sisters. One executed by the Empire, and the other cast out for her darkness. Yet one that being his twin still lived in hatred of him, for he had broken her trust dozens of times over their life. He had much regret for first he had betrayed his Father by attending regularly with his Mother to the Black Church of the Silver Isles and then by committing his life to the Ibleesian Faith. Before long, his innocence as a teenager was taken from him as his mother convinced him to become a Vampyre like her. This thought of being united with his mother, and in spite of his Father an Imperial Knight at the time, rang true in his mind, as something that would surely drive his Father mad. Though for a time it was a secret from his Father and sisters, before long it was revealed to them, and he was cast out from the Empire, sentenced to live with his mother in the Black Church.

 

For a time, he remained there with her in the Black Church, loyal to the Ibleesians and the Cultists who dwelled there, but it was not meant to be, for often he wondered about his old life, one with family and joy, not the merciless slaughters the demons and Ibleesians so blissfully enjoyed. It was after a strike to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, where they captured multiple dwarves, that he decided to break free from their grasp. He took the prisoner he was assigned to oversee until their sacrifice to Iblees and ran for the mainland of Azuras, putting much distance between himself and the demons. After some time, he opted to feed off the dwarf, who reluctantly agreed, given his life had been spared by the vampyre from the demons and cultists. Such was the norm for years afterwards, where he stalked the roads for fresh blood, seeking to feed off peasants, soldiers, and nobles alike, for none were not worthy of his bite. 
 

The Northern Forests of Idunia were silent that evening—no birds, no wind, only the soft drip of water from leaves.

 He thought of his twin first. He had broken her joy piece by piece, year by year, until nothing remained but the echo of it in his own mind. Then his father, the Imperial Knight, wished for a son who would one day stand beside him in sunlight rather than shadow. Guillaume could still see the moment the truth was laid bare. When he told his Father he was a Vampyre who had hurt people, and then years later hearing of his execution brought a tear to his eye as Guillaume had not been there to save him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. The words felt small against the trees' vastness.

He thought, briefly, of seeking out his surviving twin one last time, of kneeling before her and offering whatever remained of his wretched soul. But the thought faded quickly. She had earned her hatred; he would not force her to kinslay.

 

Blood welled dark and slow, soaking his cloak. It pooled in the moss, black in the fading light. His heartbeat stuttered, slowed, and became distant.

 

In that last clear moment, he did not see the demons of Iblees or the altars of the Black Church. He saw instead a summer afternoon long ago: three children running through Grense, their father smiling behind them. Life slipped from his fingers. His body slumped against the oak, head bowed as if in prayer.

 

And Guillaume Kildrakken was no more.

 

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝:

 

ꕥ To Anne de Beaumont

Spoiler

“Mother, I wasn’t always the best son, often disappearing for years at a time, but do know that despite your tendency to want more for me, and more power for me, a simple life is all I ever wanted, one where I could love, and be loved for what I was and always am. Love Guillaume”

 

ꕥ To Heimweh Kildrakken

Spoiler

“Sister, I know by now you may never even read this or understand it as your mind grows darker and your past clouded, but I hope you know that for those years we were together, you were my closest friend in Grense, and the best big sister one could ask for.”

 

ꕥ To Melissandre Kildrakken

Spoiler

“Sister, I know you will never forgive me for my actions, and I do not intend to ask for such, but I merely ask you this: do not let the taint I let my life become be all you judge me, let the memories of our childhood flourish in your mind, and let that be my memory on this world. With love, your twin, Guill.”

 

[DISCOLIQUID 2701]

A foul-clawed creature limned by raucous shades of unfair crimson, flickering lamplight, breaks the wax seal on a letter never intended for its desk. 

 

"De Beaumont, hm? How curious."

 

There, a hooked talon tracks the works penned in the mortal's dying moments, and a bleak & soulless cackle breaks the silence. The murderer, more amused than lamenting, flicks the paper.

 

"She promised her son's head as a bargaining chip, seconds before we ripped her in two! Lucky day, lucky day!"

 

Catcher stores the letter in a chest, proof by which to gloat with, to know in their blackheart that none who served the Black Church would ever find salvation, in this life or the next. A memento mori of the Hell's corruption. 

 

[Monty Cobra 921]

A Nord paused briefly in passing by a mirror along the hallways of his home - only to ensure that the symbol that had once been carved into his face by a certain Kildrakken was gone. He noted the lack of it with grim satisfaction and moved on, vowing to return the gesture if he ever crossed paths with that man again.

[Casualty 77]

 

The soft sound of blade meeting wood halted, the blue petals and the juice staining knife and fingertips with a subtle cold. Like a bid that urged her scarred hands to withdraw, yet, it was the beating of a doves wings that had made her do so.

 

There was a letter she most urgently waited for, yet as the parchment was retrieved from the aviary, did she find a note least expected.

 

A blank stare met ink sprawling over pages. Anger, anger simmered just under her skin at each of the words she read. There was no part in her brain believing in the grief that struck at her heart even in its subtle fraction.

 

Far away was she, from that busy square of Rittersburg, her mind sprawling clawing it’s way out of a coffin, through doors, fingers bitten by splinters, the perverse but yet always present smell of blood coating her throat.. and then, back to what brought her to the depths her mother, her brother… that twisted visage under his helmet was clear within her mind's eye. 

 

With a slow few blinks, is it all forgotten, the voice of Richard pulling her out of thought, the last wisps of memories of her brother in his younger years, anxious, but bright, with his reddish hair fading.

 

He would not have met his fate, it was another ruse of his.

 

Edited February 18 by Casualty