THE FINAL VISION [PK]

[Ramon 4154]

Spoiler

 

 

THE FINAL VISION

 

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As the bells of the City tolled outside, there echoed but a single call in response from the great Tower. Slow, yet rhythmic taps of a cane, followed by heavy, measured steps in pairs, disturbed the peace of the Hand of Horen and its many winding stairways. John of Aaun had never been one to hurry, to labor to arrive anywhere in haste - though his old age, that implacable curse of Man, left him little choice in the matter. Had there been another presence in the palace, they would have, no doubt, provided him a helping hand; but upon that day, much like any other, the King stubbornly persisted in his routine, and gave the servants and the other palace staff leave to prepare for that wedding marked by the joyous ringing.

 

His mornings carried little variance, and John knew comfort in that practice, which reminded him of his days in the clergy. He rose early, and celebrated the day by giving thanks to the Lord; today, his prayer was especially zealous and earnest, and directed towards others; he asked for intercession and good tidings for his Realm first and foremost, his family, allies and friends. Only then would he commit to the business of the day. With an ever-weakening hand he signed off and sealed many an edict, a letter, a plea - a grant of charity to be distributed by those who had persisted in their clerical calling.

 

Many a step had been traversed by the aged monarch, yet not enough to escape the threshold of the royal quarters, and his thoughts gave way to introspection. He felt his body withering and knew that he had little time left. “O Lord, have I done right by You?” asked he of his greatest benefactor and also of himself, directing his tired eyes upwards. He missed a step, and this lapse in attention was only corrected by a firm grasp of his cane. Still, his inquiry persisted, and was unshaken by the sound of the bell. 

 

Were his actions, and his life as he had lived it, admissible in the eyes of God? In his youth he wished for nothing more than to commit to a quiet life of piety among the clergy, though fate would not grant him this reprieve; a great evil befell the crown of his fathers, and the battered denizens of the Realm cried out for a savior. A hero to seize the throne, a knight of justice to avenge the fallen child-King and to lead Aaun into victory. There was none but him to shoulder this burden, and he accepted it with concealed hesitation, as a duty that transcended his calling as a priest.

 

The crown of his fathers. John braved another step, and he called to mind the memory of his forefathers’ faces, and in this moment he felt their silent and judging gazes transcend even the doubt that he had strayed from God’s path. What was the path that they ordained for him? With heavy breaths and weighty footfall, he descended further down the Hand, past the many offices of councilors, and he recalled that its structure was envisioned by King Charles, his grandfather, and revised by King James, his father. Truly, he believed that its cumbersome height and the myriad of steps were crafted with intent, to weigh upon the body and soul of anyone who called himself King of Aaun, as much as the burden of that very calling.

 

Were they proud of him? His father had had many expectations for all his children, yet never endeavored to share them publicly, though John knew he was never meant to bear the crown - merely be a guiding hand to his beloved brother, Henry, and his nephew, Edmund, in time. But both of them were measured, and both of them succumbed to the crushing weight of such a trial, for which they paid with their lives; not John, who was left to mend the broken pieces of a realm shattered by their failure.

 

In that moment, he knew his mind would be at ease if he answered yes. He gave himself respite, both mental and physical, and he paused to gather his thoughts upon a step above the dining hall. When the crown was placed upon his brow, he acted with the swiftness and resolve few expected of a withdrawn priest. King John became the symbol of a restored realm, and his fervor was comparable to that of Owyn’s own: he became the sword of God, his mission ordained by the Church, and he excised the illness that was Stassion from Aaun with a single sweep. He raised the standard of Alstion, and his armies alongside that of his allies, and with great fury fell upon the traitors and oathbreakers; Anthill burned before his eyes, and schismatics were driven from the Heartlands.

 

In peace, he knew victory still: the shackles of King Charles’s law were broken, and John was able to reforge the Realm as he wished. Descending further towards the great hall he recalled how his reforms gave the nobility new vigor, and how his persistence was celebrated by the common folk. He thought of how the Word of God had regained its importance in his domain, and he ruminated upon his friendship with the late Queen of the Petrans, which had sidelined the rivalry of their two peoples and paved the way forward to a glorious union, a Realm of all Heartlanders.

 

Unity had always been the ambition of his venerable house. Though the days of the great Empire, that which was once usurped from his ancestors and then corrupted into a reviled name, have long since passed and would likely never return in their ancient glory, a sense of duty towards the peoples of the Heartlands persisted in the Alstion psyche; the notion that a home for the disparate Heartlander folk must be reforged as one nation, a realm in which those of Godwin’s blood would keep their heads raised high in honor as in days of yore.

 

John knew that the tenets of the Faith were amenable to that notion as well, and that a united Heartland meant a prosperous Canondom. In his last days, he carried high hopes that those Heartlands would endure as his father had always believed they would, and that, by his heirs, they would become a great and pious country. With a final, trailing thought of hope, he reached the great doors of the Hand, and emerged beneath the shining sun.

 

In the Chapel of Our Lady of Paradisus, surrounded by his family, he basked in the tranquility of that storied chantry and the holy ceremony, and felt empowered by their presence. He recalled the recent birth of his first grandchild, and that of the newly-arrived infants of his friends; in his thoughts he blessed the new generation and wished upon them great fortune, and hoped that in their company his children and his Queen would endure his passing. He murmured a prayer for his heir, Charles, that he might overcome the many tribulations he would face. His thoughts lingered even on his estranged child, James, and amidst the commotion of the wedding, he added a short prayer for him as well. 

 

The service concluded, and he rose from his seat, with some discomfort, to personally wish the newlyweds luck and prosperity in their married life. The gathering was restless, and with great anticipation awaited everyone’s departure. John, however, had a personal custom left to satisfy, one ingrained throughout the many years of his service as an ordained priest. 

 

He made his way to the altar and genuflected. In that moment, he felt sudden and immense comfort, a sort of radiant warmth which overtook his mind and which he could only describe as the Lord’s grace; he was overcome with emotion to the point of tears, and visions of greatness, a foretelling of a final, fortunate and victorious conclusion to the struggle of his progenitors, many centuries in the future, occupied his consciousness. But likewise a heavy numbness possessed his body, and no matter how hard he toiled, he could not rise again. The sudden feeling of horror subsided quickly as he convulsed and collapsed upon the floor.

 

His family, those closest to him, were quick to rush to his side, tears welling in their eyes, and his eldest son took a hand into his own; with a last bout of consciousness, he reflected on his other son Alexander’s attempted aid and Cardinal Frantzisko above him uttering a litany - his last rites. A weak smile played on his lips, formed through the best of his ability. But soon, his eyes fell shut, and silence claimed him thereafter.

 

John of Aaun was no more.
 

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Spoiler

many thanks 2 whoever rped w me on john (jaaun). proved to be pretty fun

 

[Olox_ 3681]

Charles squeezed his father's hand as he departed this world on the steps of the altar. The prince's eyes filled with tears as he thought about what he had experienced with his father and what he had yet to experience. He will never show his children to his father, and they will never know their grandfather, he will never be able to ask him for advice ever again - for who can tell him how to rule the Kingdom better than the King himself? Tears streamed down Lord Alba's cheeks before he bowed his head and sobbed mournfully - the Kingdom and its people were now in his hands - the role he was preparing for throughout his lifetime came upon him when he least expected it. In the midst of sadness and fear he, for the first time as King, asked God in a hushed tone

 

"Why did you take him away now? Now when the Country and I needed him more than ever."

 

All the young Alstion monarch wanted in that moment was to be Charlie, a little boy on the back of a horse playing the bagpipes for the soldiers going into battle at the Siege of Anthill...

 

 

[scarahpot 188]

No words came from Alicia as she glanced at the lifeless body of the King. There were no words to be spoken. A shiver crawled down her spine as she thought  'He had just met his first grandchild, cheery and all.'  She quickly went over to her husband, embracing him. Still nothing came from her mouth, she knew no words could comfort a loss so large.

[Islamadon 5094]

A wicked and terrible Shinobi of the Koyo-Kuni wrings his hands together as yet another assassination plot was successful. "Another flame snuffed . . . " he cartoonishly cackles as Aaun no doubt felt the machinations of the petty Oyashi.

[PecenyRohlik 286]

"Rest to the King," Jan Jazlowiecki whispered to himself, as tears made their way down his cheeks. "Tandem Triumphans."

[cadazio 388]

A silence came over The Crab, as he looked down to John. His lifeless skin turned to sand, and his final tears turned to waves, and the expanse of the sea was revealed to the cardinal. With a breath, he prostrated on the shore. 

 

Frantzisko only prayed his friend could serve the Lord as he was always meant to - in the Skies, before the Heavenly Host and the highest altars, as the priest he was destined to become, for the ages of ages.

Edited June 2 by cadazio

[TaytoTot 1300]

Thérèse von Theonus wonders what her life would've been like now if she had listened to her grandfather's words about John all those years ago.

[LithiumSedai 5002]

As he watched the lifeless body of the King, surrounded by his grieving family, Father Jean was speechless in shock. His greatest friend and benefactor, his savior from the damp cells of Gwynon, gone. Merely an hour prior they had discussed mortality; he felt the cold grip of irony in that moment, seeing the King's worries become so brutally manifest.

In his thoughts, he uttered a prayer, but he knew that was all he could do.

 

[Gandhi 2769]

Alfred recalled the man from his youth - one so who eagerly yearned for the Priesthood. GOD had seen it differently, in his eyes, and Alfred had connected with such a twist of fate. "A unifier of his people, same as Leon and I." - "I understand his plight. There aren't many of us left anymore, Ivan." He told the King of Haense, whilst on a hunt.

 

@indiana105

[mothsthetic 699]

(sorry for formatting, will redo when not on mobile!)

 

It simply wasn’t fair. First her mother, less than a Saint’s Year before, and now King John. The young Queen had been looking forward to speaking more with the man- the few times they had he had been nothing but kind, and helpful. Adalia sighed upon receiving the notice of His Majesty’s passing, hanging her head. Carefully, she removed the crown from her head, putting her head in her hands. 

 

“Do you have to take them all?” She asks to the silence.

[rep2k 2538]

The young auvergnat stands silently at the edge of the crowd, his small heart heavy with grief. The weight of the king's passing presses down on him, making it impossible to think of returning home, to retell the dramatic story of today to his parents..

His eyes, red from unshed tears, flicker between the grieving faces around him and the lifeless form of King John I of Alstion. Despite the pull to be elsewhere, he remains rooted to the spot, unable to abandon the mourners and his fallen liege.

 

It was his first time witnessing death.

[alien_mc 553]

Catherine Jazlowiecki looked upon John of Aaun as he walked up to the altar to wish her his congratulations. The newly wedded woman, once John's ward, took the monarch's hand at that moment to offer her profound respect. Catherine's head lowered, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for everything you have done. Long live the King!" The woman shouted, her voice echoing throughout the chapel. Something in her felt that his health was deteriorating, so she gave John all the words she wished to say to him many years ago.

[Enlightenment 1556]

Emilio Varoche wept for his beloved royal cousin, remembering the day he waited for Edmund's will amongst his fellow council members of the time and the relief he had when John was named heir, "We chose a glorious path that day, thank you cugino for leading us all these blessed years!"

[carebear 641]

Rowena walked to her sister, resting a hand on her shoulder. She never knew John of Aaun well, but the few times they had spoken he had been very kind to her. She squeezed Adalia’s shoulder, then made her way to the aviary to send a few letters of condolences.

 

(will reformat once I’m not on mobile!)

[HogoBojo 4065]

Henrik-Otto Ludovar would sign the Lorraine Cross in memory of his fallen friend. "May vy rest in peace dear friend." He'd murmur to himself, chugging some Carrion Black, toasting to Edmund's memory.