1866-06-12: Peace At Last
Peace At Last
Summary: As Emilia continues to lose over to the Voices, and is nearly lost all together to Them, something else comes along to help her. (OOC Warning and note : Emilia creepiness abounds. And nothing in this memoir may be taken as IC knowledge unless you have been given permission to do so, or gained it through RP form those who have.)
Date: 1866-06-12
Related: Journey to Safety , Alphrad's Peace and Alone
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Emilia  

She was home now. Where she belonged. Her eyes fell to the form within the iron circle.

We have been patient.

She shuddered as she stepped into the circle, at the glancing touch of the luminescent fingers along her arm.

We will become whole.

Emilia looked up, her blackened eyes holding a touch of the same madness that consumed the almondine eyes they looked into.

We will be with you.

She looked back to the form as the banshee moved back to it, to drain last essence of life from Clara.

We will be as we were meant.

She had been blind to it. Fought against it. But it was so clear now. She was home now. She would not be alone.

We have shown you the way.

They had been with her, she knew that now. Mother and Randall, even father, the others….Now Clara as well, they would be with her always….a part of her.

We will be together.

She watched on as the body aged and withered away under the Widows touch. Stepping into Her touch after the last of life was gone from Clara, to complete what had been interrupted so many years ago. A scream crossing her own lips from the pain of the process, the change to endure.

We have waited so long.

The Widow wailed and pulled away just before a shadow fell over Emilia. Confusion fell within the haze of dark madness. Turning to look at the source of this interruption. The sight was enough. And for a brief moment, what little visage that was left of Emilia Cassomir fought back and clawed its way to the surface again. Black eyes briefly turned dark brown again in that moment, a pleading terrified look given, as she begged,"Help me." Before she was gone again and blackness swept the color away, madness returned as the creature within wrested control back once more. It could not….

….lose now. In an instant Emilia’s plea was answered. Black eyes blinked in shock, the Widow wailed in rage and anger behind her. Another blink before Emilia fell, crumpling to the ground and falling back. Blood flowing from her ruined neck, her life draining away in seconds. The darkness fading away from her mind. Black gave way to dark brown once more. A quiet thanks found in those eyes, a hint of a smile, for a brief moment to her benefactor before the light finally faded from them. Her stoic and solemn expression fading to one of serenity as Emilia Cassomir finally found peace at last.


Smoke rose from the meadow not far from the ruins of Ironhold Castle. A large fire raged, built to serve as a funeral pyre to the two young woman. He would now allow the Widow to keep them. And no other would have been able to remove them from Her prison. The tattered finery they wore was a curiosity. Emilia, he had known, the other, even if not desiccated he was certain he was unfamiliar with…And why there was a tapestry rod, another curiosity that would never be explained. But he planted that at the end of the pyre with the few ribbons of fabric torn from their dresses tied to the end, a makeshift marker. Before he saw the unknown female delivered into the fire, and minutes later, Emilia. He would have waited until that last of the embers had begun to cool but he heard the sounds of horses and plate, a search party? He should not have been surprised. They would have come to look for her at some point. The smoke had likely drawn them. He no answers to give them, it was best he was not here when they arrived. He gave a last look to fire and the young woman it was consuming, they would not find what they hoped to find. But at least she would be tormented no more and would have peace.

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