A FATHER'S BURDEN

[Werew0lf 24180]

 

 

Music

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ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ’ꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴍᴇɴ – this had become apparent in the more recent years as Emperor, but there was something odd about him, even to the imperial family. Whereas his father stood as a warlord, and Hadrian’s brothers often mirrored the strength of the last Emperor, it was not the same for Hadrian. The man did not hold the same martial strength, nor the brutal cunning of a warlord – in truth, despite most dispositions, he did not enjoy painting his own hand in blood. Yet, he often saw death as an artistic poise; in his mind, the strongest warlord was one who did not need to lift the blade himself.   As his family grew up to become warriors and fighters, Hadrian drifted into an administrative role; he came to enjoy poetry, art, and also, the offices of the imperial state. There was something about the legislature of the Empire that enraptured him, and he spent his days lounging within his bedside reading and drafting proposals for his father. Blood was shed in the years of Tiberias’s reign, and soon enough, he came to enjoy watching it spill out from those who became useless adherents to humanity’s rise.   There came a time when Hadrian would be forced to marry–this in itself was a dire event to the depository of humanity for two simple reasons: the imperial lineage would continue, but at the same time, who would have the courage to marry the future ‘mad’ Emperor? Elizabeth of Balamena would be the unfortunate soul claimed as a victim to this man, and she bore him five children.    Rumours spread intermittently that Hadrian was a heartless tyrant, and that he would not come to love his own family. Despite some lingering truth to these scandals, as his marriage was loveless, Hadrian cherished his children and loved them verily, but he could not display it the same as most men, for he was unlike any man.    Each of his children inherited something from him – an heirloom. Marcus had yet to inherit his, for he would bear the mace. Titus would go on to inherit Cloudbreaker. To Pontia, he would give only a ring once worn by his mother. To Livia, he offered the same feathered-quill he would use often in his youth. And to Martinus, he would give him a small signet ring of a bull, the only of its kind, the design so vast and complicated that it was unique beyond doubt unless one had studied it. Never before would it be seen, yet only in the hand of Martinus. At the time, Martinus was only but a child, and so wore the signet ring as a necklace.    ᴍᴀʀᴄᴜꜱ, the eldest of his children, came to burden the great inheritance of the world. Hadrian knew that his first-born would have to follow the steps of his own father, and walk the martial path to ensure the Emperor would always be a strong ruler. Marcus spent most of his youth learning the administrative roles and duties of the Imperator from Hadrian, and then another bulk training the sword from the best knights in the realm. Hadrian only held guilt for having to pass on such a burdensome role onto his son, for he himself did not wish to inherit the Empire in the first place, but understood its importance.    ᴛɪᴛᴜꜱ, the second son, was given much more freedom. Hadrian envied his children for their freedom, barring that of Marcus. The young Crown Prince longed for his son, Titus, to take on a similar interest as himself – arts, poetry, theatre and administration. Unfortunately, ***us lacked the equipoise in admin-and-sword, and seemed much more suited to the blade. Hadrian spent most of his years tending to his second son; it was spoken frequently within the courts that Titus was his most favoured son, albeit, it was hardly shown in his cruel actions. Hadrian did see Titus as his most favored, and attempted to prevent him from walking down the knight’s path in the years to follow.   ᴘᴏɴᴛɪᴀ, his daughter, was sheltered by the gown of her mother. Hadrian saw Pontia to be a perfect vision of his wife, and knew she did not require much guidance to grow up to be kind and loved.   It was then that the twins came into discussion, that of ʟɪᴠɪᴀ and ᴍᴀʀᴛɪɴᴜꜱ.    ʟɪᴠɪᴀ seemed to mirror Hadrian almost perfectly, and some would go far as to say she was even more flawless. She was lithe-of-frame, soft handed, but sharp-tongued and brilliant minded. The Crown Prince saw her the same as a genius, she held a dangerous curvature in the early imperial courts even at her young age, and there was something ruthless about her. Martinus, however? Livia overshadowed him.    Hadrian spent his time with Livia the most, and held little interaction with the other twin. Yes, it was so–whereas Titus may have been his favorite son, Livia would be his favored child. Yet Hadrian feared himself, and as sickness overtook him, and the stress of the Imperator undercut his body, madness started to seep through – he did not wish for his daughter to be like him, he wanted to encapsulate her kindness. In the near future, her banishment would come to surprise many. They did not know, however, that in his mind, Hadrian still saw Livia as his most loved child.    Where was ᴍᴀʀᴛɪɴᴜꜱ during this time? He spent most of his years with his brothers and younger sister, alongside that of Livia and their mother – but each time, Hadrian would pick up Livia into a warm embrace and carry her off, hoping to spend time with her. She held Hadrian’s favor, and with the waning passage of time, Martinus found himself isolated; his attention turned to his brothers, yet Martinus was too young to understand, nor old enough to remember what it meant to be lonely.    ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ.

 

 

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ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴜᴛ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇ, the Crown Prince Hadrian sat within the confines of a plush pillow, holding a bejewelled anthology of poems gifted to him by his late mother. The stallions woughed in frustration as they tugged the cart forth. A splintering crevice of water gushed through the worn-stumps of the bridge, as the fast-flowing river gushed deep below.    The banner of the House of Horen swayed within the air, and a retinue of imperial dragon knights rode on each corner to ensure the protection of the Emperor-to-be. Within the carriage sat two of his children, Livia, and that of Martinus.    Livia peered around innocently in her youth, as her head lay upon the lap of the crown prince.   “Hm” Hadrian flipped the page of his book; he did not prevent his daughter’s rest upon his lap, but showed little affection otherwise.    Martinus peaked out from the carriage, peering down cautiously at the river. The fishes blubbered and leapt outwards. As much the same as his twin-sister, he could not understand the purpose of the trip; after all, he was only two, and could barely see past the rim of the carriage.    The young princess leapt up from her father’s lap and waddled out to the corner of the carriage, viewing past the shoulder of Martinus.   Martinus turned his head mindlessly, and the two started to giggle away.    The wheels of the carriage struck one of the divots within the bridge, causing all those within to jolt. Hadrian included, and his features twisted with venom, clearly frustrated despite it being the fault of nobody. A knight trot forth, and offered hasteful words. “It would be best for us to move with haste, Your Imperial Highness. This bridge was an unwise path,” he spoke through the visor.   “If the bridge collapses, the coachman will be executed,” Hadrian concluded simply, and held on firmly to the side of the wood.   As the carriage jolted alive, Livia fell backwards, and her head nearly slipped upon the wooden-surface. Hadrian’s hand swept downright, and he yanked both of his children up onto his lap, ensuring they did not fall – even a small injury could lead to an early death for such young children.    Martinus simply saw the bumpy trip of the carriage to be another game in his mind, if he could even rationalise thought. He simply laughed, and knew little else.    Hadrian ’s eyes drifted between the pair, but his annoyance overcame any sort of joy he held for the moment. Soon enough, the carriage reeled to the end of the bridge, however, even the Crown Prince could tell something was off.   The bridge shook violently, it quaked for far too long. Horses neighed furiously, and the imperial dragon knights continued forth towards the carriage. “Your Imperial Highness, the bridge is likely to collapse. Climb onto our horse,”  Sir Sirius’s gauntlet held outwards.   “. . .” Hadrian  swung the side-door of the carriage open, and accepted the gauntleted hand, clambering onto the grand-knight’s steed. As the horse bellowed furiously, the bridge started to shudder; all could tell it would collapse.    “Your Imperial Highness, it is about to break!”  The imperial dragon knight roared–the other retinue surged forth, rushing to the end, and the heavy carriage continued to pull.   The Crown Prince leant forth, and immediately grasped somebody from the carriage … – for between his two children, be it Livia, or Martinus, he chose to rescue Livia first.    With a small yank, the princess was pulled forth, and settled hastily between the knight and Hadrian on horse-back. Her innocent eyes drifted towards the carriage, and her eyes started to break into a waterfall of tears.    Martinus waddled forth, in an attempt to go towards his father and sister. He could not understand the perplexity of the situation.    “Your Highness, we have to go,” The imperial dragon knight snapped the reins of the horse, and it surged forth.    Martinus watched as the horse rushed away from the carriage, and decided to simply sit back down upon the wooden carriage, slapping the surface of the floor. The young prince cried; not out of fear of the bridge, but for being left alone without his father and his sister.   Hadrian’s eyes broadened violently as he watched the dragon-knight force the horse onwards. There was an audible protest, “My son is still in the carri–”   BOOM–the supports of the bridge tore violently, and as the horse drifted across the dirt-bank at the end, the wooden stabs of the bridge started to collapse. Plank after plank, from north to south, it broke; with it, the carriage fell, and the river gulfed it akin to a gaping maw. Martinus was claimed by the same rivers, drifting away to the unknown.   Hadrian violently yanked his daughter closer, and collapsed his arms around her in a warm embrace. The Crown Prince stood in silence; if his eyes were ever teeming with life, they started to fade.    There was something about this that was uncanny.   ᴡᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅ ɢᴏᴅ?    This pivotal moment marked the early offset of his madness.

 

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ᴀɴ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ’ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ; it was spoken that the Crown Prince grew mad, and sent his knights to search each end of the river-bank, but they could find nothing. The carriage was located far out into the shores of Balian’s riverside, close to reaching the open ocean. Martinus was not located; there were no clothes, nor the signet ring that his son had claimed.    Martinus was never spoken about again. Hadrian did not forget, he could not – he had chosen his beloved daughter over his other son, and this tore him to greater madness. He started to rationalise the causes of this great upset. He convinced himself that the choice he made in picking Livia was right, for she was his favored child, and that he could – in truth – bear another son akin to Martinus, but not another daughter the same as Livia.   He knew his train of thought was wrong, it was cruel, but there was no other way that the mad Emperor could live with this.Even as he toiled upon his throne, bored by the whispers of his court, Hadrian recalled the moment vividly.   Even as his blade spurned through the throats of elves, Hadrian remembered his son drifting away into the endless abyss.   Even as he climbed the battlements of the Urguani fortress, Hadrian’s eyes bloodied with the river of his son’s demise.   ✦ • ──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── • ✦   ✦ • ───────────────────────────── • ✠ • ───────────────────────────── • ✦   ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʀ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴀᴄᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ ɪ.  By this maddened march he could truly claim the might of his Empire, and through the blood of many could the sins and lamentations of his life be washed away, so that he could enter his personal hell to come with a semblance of completeness.    Amidst that march, amidst that frenzy of strategy and conquest, that pain which had gripped him could at times dampen, replaced by the glory of each act. Living proof of greatness it was that the world bent to its knees even for himself, just as it had for those that came before.  He did not escape grief, but it was a moment of triumph where that was upended. Onward Hadrian marched, victorious within those dwarven lands, whence a flash of an unthinkable face among the endless hordes of those Men about caught the corner of his eye.     His head swiveled. A mere peasant on the road - not even a soldier of his host. Soon he vanished into the crowd.   …   ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ, ᴜɴᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴇʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴛʜɪɴᴋᴀʙʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.    “My son! My son is alive! Find him, or blood will spill!”   Knights enwreathed in black soon abandoned their posts, and dragons stalked that endless crowd that is called Man. Martinus was not found, and even the trusted of Hadrian began to further doubt his sanity. But, for Hadrian that search could not cease, so convinced of the thing he had held before his eyes.    Thus a prerogative was added to the fleeting race in its quest to subjugate the world. That lost son of Horen must be found at all costs. This was the one mistake Hadrian must see right.

ᴏᴏᴄ: 

Spoiler

Players would be aware about the Emperor’s missing son. He would resemble Hadrian and Livia (if you have met either in RP) and the Emperor has detailed the signet ring. It would be known that he is around 18. 

 

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ @ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡ0ʟꜰ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ.

 

[sam33497 7356]

 

Maximilian Horen tread that warpath which seemed endless with the rest of his family. Dark circles had finally formed beneath his eyes to match his brother’s. Just when… had things become like this? A burden they were meant to share together - in finding his own happiness, in mediating his own purpose, he had allowed Hadrian to shoulder all of this alone, to place himself on a path of no-return, opaque to even his oldest companion.

 

Alas.

 

“I... will find him. Even if we cannot be saved, we will pass on all the blessings we can. These curses can merely die with us.”

 

Enwreathed in armaments of old which felt more hollow than ever, he tread in search of that child of promise.

 

That forgotten child absolutely must become their hope for the future in this wretched world. This conviction latched him onto Hadrian’s delusion just as readily.

 

Come to me, Martinus…

 

Shoulder all these blessings and burdens…

 

Become the hope of Horen…

 

…and the new wheel and axle of this world.

 

Your father and the rest of us are tired.

[ChainedDragons 1374]

OOC: Holy shit this is beautiful writing. Magnificent. It definitely paints the emperor more of a man falling and unable to catch himself. It really intrigues me and makes me love the character all the more; even if he does scare the ******* shit out of me. Well done
 

[The Tough Guy 4319]

Sir Ghetsis of Myrine would read the missive and smirk.

 

[hopey 364]

At the stroke of ebony night, Livia Caesonia beseeched a gilded mirror. Another year had exceeded her, shriveling reminiscences of the past. Though her eyes were of Hadrian’s, the likeness of her smile was solely parallel with Martinus. As days grew lengthy, it was only her face that breathed life of her vanished twin. His altering features were fickle in her mind, enshrouded by her heedless yearning to forget what became of him. To be without a twin is a severing of the soul, an anguish far beyond the means of practical repair. It was an inattentive mechanism of protection, to stow Martinus would mean frittering that throttling burden of hollowness. 

 

The fatigue it brought upon her father was of no doubt. She knew him best of all. Even amidst exile, murmurs of servantry bled throughout the crevices of her newfound life, carrying incessant whispers of the Emperor’s fragility. Now among her remaining brothers, she felt that churning of her soul moreover. A contest of hope conflicted with hesitation, divulging memories once forcibly forgotten. An unneglectable faith inched that of her mien, rousing each breadth of her comportment. It was as if she could feel Martinus– sense him. Just barely was he within her clutches, narrowly grazing the slope of her finger tips. 

 

“Return to us, Martinus.” It was a prayer, uttered to the attendants swarming her flank. A sole plea that she hoped God would heed, for it be her first authentic ask of Him. That constricting evening sustained without slumber, ensued only by her listless pacing of the Rittersburg streets– warranting each eye that passed her by, searching and hankering for what was once hers.  

 

 

[__Stal27 2126]

A Norn, an Adunian and an Imperial sit within the tavern of the North.

 

A King, A Prince and one more. 

 

The Norn knew, the Prince knew, the Imperials would soon know.

[FoogThe2stnd 323]

Lucis, but a humble Feoderati, would overhear talks of this search for the young imperial during his gate house duties. Folks he knew and new faces would come and go, though he took a pause as his friends from the North had come to visit. As he left the gatehouse to meet them, he is met with someone he has never seen before in the capital. “Hello lad.” 

[Luto 439]

Somewhere in the wayward fields of Norland, a Dragon Knight and an errand man of Ubersreik practiced for the upcoming jousting season.
 

Flung from the saddle one time too many, she couldn’t comprehend that a village boy managed to break her form repeatedly - once was a newbie’s luck, but twice, thrice and some splintered lances more later implied a surfaced greatness she could nurture, the same that Lord Vander saw in herself many yils ago.
 

… Still, Noiye’s thin-skinned ego snapped in the moment, for she saw it personal failing towards GOD and IMPERIUM to get this rusty. ".. YOU CHEATING KNAVE! YOU -" plated claws took the man yay-high by his collar, dunking his head into a nearby trough for thorough waterboarding. “RRRAAAAGGGH!”
 

A time would come she’d look back on this differently.
 

@helldiving

Edited February 21 by Luto

[Hom 1987]

Spoiler

i just wanted to throw out that this was an absolute treat to read, few characters on this server have struck me as having such consistent and nuanced characterization (especially without me having ever actually met them). super interesting and cool, i love lord of the craft!!

 

[Rig 17580]

 

"Martinus?"

"...Yes."

"A storied name to be sure."