Dominic Sterling
The Fool Embracing the Thorn Bush
[Some time at the beginning of the ball]
When I realized the very individuals who inflicted the deepest wounds upon me are also responsible for the person I am today, it fundamentally altered my perception of pain, trauma, negativity, and the obstacles that beset me.
There were times when those in society showed me no empathy, so I resolved to extend that very compassion to those others deemed unworthy. There were times when their words and actions caused me great physical and emotional harm, so I vowed to never inflict such pain upon another. Of course, life has placed me in situations where I felt I had no choice, particularly where those I hold dear are concerned. I am not one to passively accept injustice, and I often follow my own sense of morality. Heh... where is justice and morality in that? There were times when society treated me as if I were invisible, as if I held no value. So, I determined to ensure that everyone else felt seen and valued, regardless of their titles, connections, or social standing. I confess, not every attempt was successful.
I discovered that those who inflict pain do so because they are hurting themselves, and I vowed to never perpetuate that cycle. Some might call it embracing the thorn bush. I call it embracing the very worst within myself, so that it might become the catalyst for the best version of myself. But what has this brought me? I have been wounded in countless ways: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually... Little do they know, the deepest hurts I have suffered have never come from an enemy.
This internal conflict has taken its toll. I hope, when this is all over, perhaps... just perhaps... things might go right for me, for once. When their happiness is realized, perhaps there can be happiness for me as well.
Look at me... tears... as if my body already knows. When I look up at the sky with tears in my eyes, it feels as though I am submerged underwater. Is this the result of reaching out to one's reflection in a still puddle? Falling in, and now gazing up at the surface, realizing the dark depths below are a point of no return?
Their was a time where I thought that maybe being the heir would fix all my problems, maybe then I wouldn't need to reach out to a reflection. I was fool for thinking that.
There was a time where I thought that if I had put my mind, body and soul to into insuring they would not suffer perhaps I wouldn't need to reach out to a reflection. I again, a fool for thinking that.
There was a time where I thought that if I could only just collaborate and perhaps include them however I can perhaps I wouldn't need to reach out to a reflection. At what point does a fool stop trying.
Why cannot I rely on myself for happiness? Why is it so difficult for me? I do not understand...
I must wipe these tears before anyone sees me thus. I must embrace the thorn bush.
Their Happily Ever After
[Dominic entering the "Room of Departure". The room that once belonged to Oliver and Nicholas]
Dominic steps the past the door pane into a room. Thoughts began to meander around his mind of the people who once slept here. Dust visible from the light radiating gently over the bed. The young heir gently drags his fingertips across the untouched bed sheet.
This is where they slept...
Conjured images within the mind of Dominic began to form. Among one of the two images that were clear enough to make out was that of his brother lying on the bed. The image of Nicholas began to speak muffled incoherent noise to the other image leaning on the edge of a wooden table; his uncle.
Dominic knew that this conversation never happened because each had occupied the room at different times. Nonetheless, the feeling was bitter sweet.
I guess... soon it will be my turn? I wonder what that would look like.
Dominic's mind flashes back to the day of the coup, rushing over to his brother to give him a hug ignoring the battlefield. Then, the images warp and reformed into the day at the Blummets. Dominic smiles when he remembers the moment when the two brothers were fixing each other's Cravats and were slightly interrupted by Dominic's right hand man, Edwin. The images of tender care reverted back to the day of the coup as Dominic saw both his brother and Gale Stormont in the sky in each others arms. Dominic can remember the sensation of happiness for the two as swirls of cold wind and fog began to warp the image yet again.
This time, Dominic was in the rose maze at the Ashton residence (manor, estate idk lol?)
Congratulating himself most recent self proclaimed accomplishment as vines began to crawl up and wrap around his body and the giggles of two lady-like figures began to depart from him. The figures were made clear at the last moment, revealing themselves to be Dahlia and his cousin Elinor.
You deserve it...
Found himself smiling again, as a vine blocked his vision. Covering himself in darkness. As the surroundings began to illuminate, Dominic was again cold. Brother stormed out of the room while his cousin soon followed later. His uncle tending to his collapsed father. Mother on the bed. Dominic could feel the sharp sensation crawl on his skin, travel up the spine and wrap around his neck. Guilt, shame and loneliness It was a feeling that was all to familiar to him. The mental image began to become shrouded in darkness. Lettering in silver and black began to float in the air. The words that Dominic spoke to his mother as she lied there resting. Dominic recites those words with every ounce of control he had left and in a hushed tone says,
I will make sure everyone get's their happily ever after....
A hand reaches forth and tenderly holds Dominic's hand, it was cold to the touch, but felt warm in a way. The room began to brighten, the walls illuminated with vibrant colors. Shades of scarlet, amber apricot, crimson began to flicker like fire. Dominic's body began to move on it's own. Leading the outreached hand as it began to form the rest of the figure. Dominic's clothes breaking apart and floating into the distance vanishing and new pieces emerged to form his outfit from the masquerade ball. He listens music of the most wonderfully played piano played as he twirled the figure who's dress resembled a cracked opal.
Thank you....
When the dancing ceased and the music stopped, Dominic recognized the eyes figure through the mesh of her mask. It was Dove, the one who rescued him from himself.
Surrounded by this suffering he reaches for his throat to pulling dark tendrils with every bit of his existence and breaks free for just a moment. But that was just enough for him to start running. But where to? It was dark in front of him, behind, above, below... everywhere. Yet despite all that, it didn't stop him. Eventually his steps began to echo as he could begin to make out walls on his sides and the ground beneath him. It was the tunnels. Realizing that these were tunnels, Dominic came to stop and a humanoid amalgamation emerged from the ground, cloaked in shadow. An almost skeletal figure crept out of the shadow with a crown laughing as a jolt of energy is felt all over Dominic's body as he comes back to The Room of Departure. Sweating and shaking, Dominic falls to his knees and hunches forward toward the floor. A blank black image clouds his vision until it is filled with his loved ones
Dove
Nicholas
Elinor
Gregor
Spudnic
Aunt Maeve
Aunt Alice
Edwin
Tanner
Kyle
Pearl (can't forget her lol)
Mrs. Whitaker
Beriq
Leo
Raph
Donnie
Mikey
Piff
Melvin
Madame Brookette
Sir Chantrelle
Princess Emily
Locket (Dominic's Horse)
A flaming visage of Balan that wraps all these individuals in flowers
Dominic's face grows much more stoic as he slams the tip of his stubbed arm onto the ground as he picks himself up.
I'm not going anywhere. Not until I know that they are safe and happy.
Dominic storms out of the room, and begins planning a way to deal with the Brewwicks and the Vaneforge
For everything...
Dominic averted his eyes to his right hand; the very same one she held. Bright flashes and spikes of pain engulfed the image as Dominic is brought back to the moment where his hand was removed. Time rewound itself back faster and faster as glimpses of torture, darkness and pain introduced itself yet again.
Here I am...
The weight of responsibility has settled upon me now that I have become heir to the Sterling name and estate. It is a transition I never quite imagined for myself, yet I find a curious sense of purpose in it all. So much work must be done; I can only hope I’m up to the task.
One of my first decisions has been to appoint Elinor to manage the bank. Her intelligence and resolve have always been exceptional, and it seems only right to place someone with her vision at the helm of our financial affairs. In a similar vein, I have asked Edwin to serve as my representative for the many important family meetings that are beginning to fill my schedule. His loyalty and quick judgment are invaluable, and I trust him to speak with both compassion and practicality when I cannot be present.
There is a tinge of pride in seeing Patrick depart for his overseas work study. Nicholas arranged the opportunity for him, a gesture that speaks volumes of what our family stands for: we give one another the chance to grow. I wish Patrick every success abroad and hope he returns with insights that will help further improve our ventures here at home.
Beyond these appointments, there is the matter of the impending threat Solomon warned me about. I have decided to form a small, secretive group called the Crimson Cloaks. They are to be trained to combat the evil said to be on the horizon. It may seem a drastic step, but my conscience will not allow me to sit idle while rumors of looming danger persist. I have also begun sending investigators and archaeologists out in search of any signs or omens that might point to this darkness, eager to gain more than just whispers and speculation. More specifically, I have sent individuals to look within the castle for Solomon's journal to see if that would give me any leads.
In my new position, I have been able to authorize funding for two projects dear to my heart: supporting Beriq’s dream of expanding the orphanage. There is something profoundly satisfying in putting our family’s resources toward improving the lives of others, especially children who might otherwise have nowhere to turn. With these efforts, I feel that we are honoring the ideals of compassion and fellowship that have always guided us—even when we did not carry the title or wealth to do so on this scale.
On a more personal note, I have decided to bring bread back into my meals. My aversion to it during simpler times was a small, symbolic stance—perhaps a reflection of my discomfort with who I was or where I belonged. Now, I find it comforting, a sign that I can embrace tradition in my own way. It is a small detail but one that feels oddly significant, reminding me that I can shape what it means to be the Sterling heir rather than let the role define me entirely.
Amidst these changes, there is growing unease among the people regarding my blood magic. Many confuse it with necromancy, especially after I slew the king, who revealed himself a monstrous were-creature in his final moments. The sight was disturbing; I did what I believed necessary for the safety of the realm, yet there are those who now label me a danger. Necromancy is illegal in Regencia, so these accusations are more than idle gossip. Fear makes people see monsters in the unfamiliar, and I cannot blame them entirely for their caution. Still, it pains me to know that my intentions are overshadowed by misunderstanding. I hope that time—and perhaps more transparency—will ease their fears, but for now, the weight of public judgment is not easily lifted.
Lastly, I have composed a letter to Dove, though part of me hesitates to send it. In it, I express my gratitude for all she has done, for being the foundation of my newfound belief that family is more than shared blood. She taught me to see a home in the people around me, not merely the walls and titles. I hope that in reading my words, she understands how much her influence has shaped my ideals. She saw the best in me when I was lost, and for that, I owe her more than I could ever repay.
Each step forward comes with its own trials, but I find myself more resolute than ever. Perhaps I will never perfectly fill the role of heir as others might, but I will do so with a sense of integrity and a willingness to listen—two traits I believe can carry us through whatever challenges lie ahead.
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