[Dual PK] Third Child, Restless Child

[Monty Cobra 921]

Smoke drifted from a lonesome hilltop, overlooking vast fields and wildernesses of green and gold – where upon it, a quiet figure rested among the roots of a tree.

 

Lucien hardly recalled his uncle. After all, he had grown up during war, when his family had already been split asunder. He did not get to meet or know many of those Vuillers who had come before him. Ledicort was an exception. What little Lucien remembered was the fierce love that his cousin, Lenora, had for her father... and on the other side of that proverbial coin, the dread and terror he had experienced as a small child, rebuked by his own kin over a difference of beliefs. 

 

Lucien Ledicort, named for his uncle, hardly dwelled on such things nowadays. He had not for decades, wandering the lands of Azuras in peaceful solitude. The once-Vuiller took a slow drag of his pipe, and released the smoke into the wind.

 

His eyes drifted shut and the sun shone upon his face. He pondered of the Seven Skies and the theology that had been imparted on him a lifetime ago.

 

Did he still believe?

[Fawnytheturtle 865]

When the news reached Meredith's ears, she fall into a seat and frown, tears slowly started to flow on her cheeks, she wasn't that close to her grandparents and sometimes she wished she was. But she was forgotten, this was the second time or well third to lose people. She wonders how much more she have to prepare for as she glanced toward her mother Lila's room in thought, she just wipe her tears and be lost in thought.

[Seuss 1056]

Cassian looked over the letter addressed directly to the family of Basileus. "Hah, I'm part Elf? Kusi look! I'm somehow part elf!"

 

@truelarper

[_xMika 284]

The tired gaze of Edgar ran across the missive in front of him, the contrasting eyes of green and black coming to squint and his lips straightening into a tight line, all though he didn't know his relatives quite well this one hurt. Like a poisonous thing it stung him the pain only truly kicking in a few minutes later.

"He joins you now, Father. Take your time and talk" a pause then came a realization hurting more then any punch or stab he had felt. "I wish i knew you more, i wish i knew the reason why my parents named me after you but alas. Rest Ledicort, with your wife"

His voice muttered all whilst his burnt visage contorted into an expression of deep discomfort, all though he didn't shed any tears for Ledicort, he understood the grief that is to come, this day Edgar would hesitate at his work. A step to the left feeling as if it was to the right, front as if it was back.  His focus was elsewhere, to the others. His aunt, perhaps a letter was to be sent and a visit made. 

[KaiserJacobII 1456]

Jean, the Artois lord-son of Francesca, one of the de Senna scions to receive a letter, never met his maternal grandparents. He never felt the warm embrace of them or heard their hushed wisdom by the side of a hissing fire. He never knew what perfume or scent to recall them by, haunting him from a leftover childhood, lingering in his memory as it does for so many. He has none of those pleasantries. 

 

He still, however, feels he knew them. Yet, his memory of them is not how we often recall our grandparents. He peruses over edicts and histories decades past, his mother's surname leaping from the pages at him. He sees his grandfather's face, wise, pale, chiseled, scrutinizing him, in city squares. He sees his own face, and that of his mother's, looking back at him, warmly so, in a painting of Helena he comes across in the halls of an Imperial office.