15 Nov 2021, 03:10
A Final Farewell
Date: Oct 30
The evening of October 29, whilst his peers fought amongst themselves or danced the evening away, Vladimir packed his bags. There was nothing worth staying for, his efforts were nothing but exercises in futility. He was no longer willing to wallow in self-pity, he was going to do what he should have years ago. He should have left, went to another school and let Victor and Marion testify on their own. Guilt bound him to the two of them. Hags corrupted his malleable and weak nature, making him paranoid and selfish, angry and ultimately alone. His deals, his efforts... everything was for naught and it was time to leave, to accept that this was a world he could no longer touch or change. That he was not wanted, only tolerated and that perhaps he only coveted them to ameliorate this sense of loneliness that pervaded his existence.
In the early morning hours, his trunk at his heels he would walk through the courtyard before most rose. He would amble the path to the gates and he would take the long, winding road to Hogsmeade. His father would be summoned, the Hogwarts Express was not due to come for several weeks time. He would return home, live out the remainder of his days however limited they might be in the comfort and quiet of his family.
In parting, basic truths shared.
VanCleaf never came for him, that note he had summoned those months ago was read, in truth the man did not care. Vladimir had outlived his usefulness. He was needed to condemn Potter, nothing less and nothing more. To condemn Potter for a murder he did not commit, rather one Marion and Victor saw and professed that they had in the throes of anguish, their bodies crippled from the darkness that had attacked them on that very same day. The timing suspect as it should, bleary from suffering, they were vulnerable to forgetting. Finley the twin of August rendered the two aide, but August had given the two of them a new memory to replace what they had truly saw. The Legillimens' mind would not bent, it would not yield but he did lie. He supported out of guilt the impassioned scene the two of them had allegedly witnessed, his pedigree gave his word greater credence. He should not have but he had no reason to mistrust them. He had no reason to check the surface thoughts of the attentive nurse that cared for them, who tried and who was also ultimately betrayed.
Those hags never arrived at Hogwarts doorstep on their own, they were transported. Easy access to children so sweet, magical and abundant. Just reach out to the rich kid, the son of a philanthropist and politician hopeful. Reach out to then an eleven year old Vladimir Athanatos, a vulnerable and awkward pre-teen. His nature predictable, in spite of his psychic prowess, he was but a child and could not stand against the conceited effort of those adults. More importantly, he could not stand against or outwit his father, the benefactor of his entire endeavor. Vladimir was nothing but a pawn in a larger, grander scheme where his blood becomes a weapon, where he became a victim of society and Thaddeus' efforts to climb that political ladder would be catapulted to the stratosphere. Yes, even now Vladimir was acting predictably.
The notes left in his empty but made bed. Confessions for his fellows to use as they wished, they already knew, likely believed worse.
The evening of October 29, whilst his peers fought amongst themselves or danced the evening away, Vladimir packed his bags. There was nothing worth staying for, his efforts were nothing but exercises in futility. He was no longer willing to wallow in self-pity, he was going to do what he should have years ago. He should have left, went to another school and let Victor and Marion testify on their own. Guilt bound him to the two of them. Hags corrupted his malleable and weak nature, making him paranoid and selfish, angry and ultimately alone. His deals, his efforts... everything was for naught and it was time to leave, to accept that this was a world he could no longer touch or change. That he was not wanted, only tolerated and that perhaps he only coveted them to ameliorate this sense of loneliness that pervaded his existence.
In the early morning hours, his trunk at his heels he would walk through the courtyard before most rose. He would amble the path to the gates and he would take the long, winding road to Hogsmeade. His father would be summoned, the Hogwarts Express was not due to come for several weeks time. He would return home, live out the remainder of his days however limited they might be in the comfort and quiet of his family.
In parting, basic truths shared.
I summoned the darkness that consumed Marion and Victor, I was jealous and made a deal in anger.
He did not know that the hags only kept their end of those deals in the most literal sense. That Victor even then was just a hollow shell with spark but no soul. That Victor's anguished, tortured essence was mingled with the inky darkness that filled the Ravenclaw. He died in truth years ago. He never saved them, he only thought he had. The cold, the fragility, the emptiness and even their neediness just tethered him in place while the curse, a perversion of the first fueled by death and a tortured soul that grew inside.I regretted what I had done the moment I had, but it was too late. In an expression of selfish hate I destroyed them, they suffered and they died painfully. I tried to save them, I took the darkness into myself to give them the time that they otherwise lacked. The darkness was different in me, it was stronger and it had life.
The hags might have given him the power to destroy. He had tried, his efforts feeble and limited and his heart and mind still that of a child. He meant to hurt a rival but his actions led to his death, the loss of his only friend. His mistakes have alienated him from his contemporaries and in the end he was meant to be alone.After Victor died a true death, his bones turned to ash I was gifted with another. Victor was replaceable, like a lost but common plaything. I tried to forget, to treat him like the first but I knew he was not the same. I was relieved when Selim killed him, he was wrong. I have been cursed to destroy the false friends, one after another ever since... I am haunted by his face, the memory of his death and suffering, of the wrongs I have inflicted upon him and have had to experience his return and his death over and over again.
VanCleaf never came for him, that note he had summoned those months ago was read, in truth the man did not care. Vladimir had outlived his usefulness. He was needed to condemn Potter, nothing less and nothing more. To condemn Potter for a murder he did not commit, rather one Marion and Victor saw and professed that they had in the throes of anguish, their bodies crippled from the darkness that had attacked them on that very same day. The timing suspect as it should, bleary from suffering, they were vulnerable to forgetting. Finley the twin of August rendered the two aide, but August had given the two of them a new memory to replace what they had truly saw. The Legillimens' mind would not bent, it would not yield but he did lie. He supported out of guilt the impassioned scene the two of them had allegedly witnessed, his pedigree gave his word greater credence. He should not have but he had no reason to mistrust them. He had no reason to check the surface thoughts of the attentive nurse that cared for them, who tried and who was also ultimately betrayed.
Those hags never arrived at Hogwarts doorstep on their own, they were transported. Easy access to children so sweet, magical and abundant. Just reach out to the rich kid, the son of a philanthropist and politician hopeful. Reach out to then an eleven year old Vladimir Athanatos, a vulnerable and awkward pre-teen. His nature predictable, in spite of his psychic prowess, he was but a child and could not stand against the conceited effort of those adults. More importantly, he could not stand against or outwit his father, the benefactor of his entire endeavor. Vladimir was nothing but a pawn in a larger, grander scheme where his blood becomes a weapon, where he became a victim of society and Thaddeus' efforts to climb that political ladder would be catapulted to the stratosphere. Yes, even now Vladimir was acting predictably.
The notes left in his empty but made bed. Confessions for his fellows to use as they wished, they already knew, likely believed worse.
[Leaving for Hogsmeade, then for Cerce, Greece]
This ends the story of Vladimir Athanatos.
Last edited by Frost Cira on 15 Nov 2021, 16:57, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: changed topic type <3
Aamon