The Magus Echoes of the forgotten

Global Upheavals

Soft words hanging in the air carrying weight like never before, Namaah's head drooped low, her affectionate gaze fixated on her child.

Noah's eyes filled with concern as he scanned her from head to toe, searching for any signs of distress.

"What is it, my dear?"

"... Dear?"

"... What's wrong? Hey-"

"Your grace," Asselin interjected.

"Why is her body getting cold, Asselin? Do something. What are you all standing around for? Do something! Anything!"

Noah snapped at everyone, barking orders and curses, but everyone merely looked down, avoiding his gaze.

"W-what? Do something! Hurry!!!"

His voice cracked with desperation, his anguish palpable.

"Your grace, please!" Asselin interjected.

"No! Dear, please listen to me. I am here... right by your side. We will take care of our child together, okay? We made that promise, remember? We... we did."

Noah's voice quivered.

"Why aren't you responding? Dear, talk to me... dear... my love... hey... say something. I want to hear your voice... Yes, I remember! Y-You said you wanted to go to the border, right? We can go now! I am sorry we couldn't do it earlier, but you see, I prepared everything beforehand... I wanted to surprise you. I can make it up to you. I-I promised! ...we... promise..."

He pleaded, sinking to his knees.

Noah's tears flowed freely, his entire body trembling.

The once-foolish grin and charismatic demeanor that defined him vanished, he couldn't look more fragile and visibly weak.

"We promised... We had plans... so many, and yet... why? Why did you leave me behind? We swore... You swore..."

Gripping her cold hands tightly, he sobbed.

Noah couldn't reconcile himself with the reality of the situation. He buried his face in the bed sheets, his body racked with uncontrollable sobs.

His head hung low, voice choked with tears,

"What went wrong, my love?"

Asseline hesitated, acutely aware of the weight of her words, before finally speaking again.

"Your Grace... the child-"

For better or worse there were words that were better left unsaid. A slip of the tongue, once spoken, can never be retrieved or silenced.

Noah's heart plummeted,

"Did... did it cost her life?"

Asseline didn't offer any further words.

Noah attempted to rise to his feet, but his legs betrayed him, causing him to wobble and ultimately fail in his attempt to stand. However, there was no laughter or ridicule directed at him.

For a while, he simply sat there, motionless, not saying or doing anything.

He appeared so shattered and vulnerable.

After some time had passed, Noah mustered the strength to rise to his feet. With a heavy heart, he instructed Asselin to attend to the child.

Mark felt at loss as Asselin gently lifted him from his mother's embrace.

He had seen everything.

Vitality draining from her pale face.

Her eyes slowly losing their luster, turning glossy and unfocused.

He witnessed it all.

How even in her last moments, she dedicated herself to imparting her final warmth to him.

'Why?'

He couldn't understand her last action. He saw no point to it, no more like he refused to acknowledge it.

To summarize their relationship, they were total strangers. Yes she might have given birth to him but time didn't give them enough to form bond...or so he wanted to believe.

As Asselin and the ladies-in-waiting carried Yon away, Noah's figure grew smaller and smaller in his view.

Noah remained behind.

Expecting nothing and then gaining everything, only to have it cruelly snatched away, was excruciatingly painful!

The loss of a mother he barely knew but deep down always wished for was something hard to understand and come to terms with.

The warmth and sense of safety that she brought into his life, even for that brief moment, had been mercilessly snatched away.

'What was that... what was all that?'

Foreign people, foreign place and even his body... foreign.

All of it foreign.

This type of love was something he never quite understood... it was something he gave upon some time ago.

He was numb, unable to fully grasp his situation as Asselin carried him to the next room.

As they entered the room, Asselin instructed the ladies-in-waiting to attend to their duties.

Bowing they left as instructed.

Similar to the previous room, this one didn't lack in anything.

The nursery was a fancy retreat, complete with a fancy cradle and a stylish crib.

The silky drapes created a cozy hideaway, and the cute decorations flashy. They even had personalized stuff, like the family crest, showing off their roots.

The room was set up with a neat dresser and a comfy nursing chair. And there was a little bookshelf with all those bedtime stories that may never get read.

Such a shame.

***

In the silent fief, whispers of sorrow began to weave through the nearby towns and villages.

It wasn't the news of the Duchess's untimely passing.

No it was something bigger than personal lose, something happened that shook the globe to its very core.

Within the Mansion walls, the Duke's trusted advisors gathered, their brows furrowed with concern.

Reports flooded in from every corner of the lands, and across distant seas - wherever messengers could break through blocked roads and burnt forests.

Unprecedented devastation was unfolding worldwide, as if all natural order had ruptured at once.

Heatwaves in the north scorched once-fertile plains to ash. Pumice storms smothered southern jungles under choking dust.

Earthquake swarms reduced lofty mountains to rubble, unleashed tsunami after tsunami upon lowland Dominions.

Volcanism threw the climate into chaos, toxins darkening the skies.

Famine followed winter's early frosts as harvests rotted in parched fields. Pandemics worse than any in living memory proliferated in squalid displaced peoples camps.

No territory was left unaffected by the catastrophic change. Mighty lands saw their core provinces reduced to wildernesses overnight. Isolated villages in the polar circles found themselves on the front lines of encroaching deserts.

Scholars frantically copied records in the few spots the earthquakes and mudslides spared. Priests converted sepulchers into mass graves and wondered what sins could have incurred divine wrath on this universal scale.

The wounds inflicted on lands, livelihoods and souls would take generations to mend.

The Duke, his heart heavy with sorrow, couldn't even bring himself to sit at his desk, pen in hand. His emotions overwhelmed him, proving more powerful than his sense of duty.

But despite his trembling hands and shaken spirit, he still did his part.

Once the statement was finalized, the team turned their attention to sharing the news with the wider community.

Public notices, bearing the official seal of the Duke's office, were prepared. These notices, filled with words that conveyed the Duke's grief, were strategically placed in prominent locations throughout the fief.

Town centers, churches, and community gathering spots became the canvas for these announcements, ensuring that everyone would have the opportunity to learn of the shared and bitter fate they now faced.

Simultaneously, messengers were dispatched to neighboring estates and influential figures in the Dominion. Through formal channels of communication, the weight of the announcement was carried, spreading the news throughout the wider community.

In the face of this tragedy, friends and neighbors leaned on one another, offering condolences and solace during this trying time. A collective sense of mourning settled across the estate, but for two different reasons.

The wider community came together, organizing memorial services, candlelight vigils, and gatherings to honor the memory of their shared loss. Tears mingled with heartfelt stories as people shared their cherished memories, painting a vivid portrait of the lives they had lost.

Within the hearts of those Namaah had touched, her spirit of compassion and love lived on, kindling remembrance and reverence.

Yet, in this time of mourning, the Duke found himself standing alone. Unable to find solace in the presence of others, he shut himself off from the outside world, choosing to attend the funeral in solitude.

Such is the nature of life. When calamity strikes, individuals are left to navigate their own paths.

Winter brought forth life. Yet, ironically, it is often in the spring that life's fleeting nature becomes apparent, as it carries away what once flourished.

Alas, the cycle has been compromised.