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tw: death, murder, war, genocide
Dobryi den. Legally speaking, my name is Nyka Velkov, but most of you know me as Emile Velkov, Emile Mothcrow, or, more rarely – Emile Vaedra. For the most part, I prefer just 'Emile', but I have taken on additional surnames as a display of family and trust.
Mothcrow was a name that my half-siblings and I came up with after choosing to detach from our birth father and create our own path, our family. Some who know me may also recall that I have commonly referred to Riftan and Zolo Vaedra as my chosen family, my brothers. Without looking into the legality of it, one could say I was adopted into House Vaedra at a young age and raised alongside the Vaedra brothers– but this is not something they'd like to have you know.
My adoptive mother, the late Countess Rosalind Vaedra, who I often referred to as Mrs. Troyanda, was a kind and noble woman who unfortunately fell victim to a von Kërle attack and faced infection. Rosalind also kept me a secret from her husband and most of the Vaedra family out of fear she'd be scrutinized or that I'd be returned home. She wanted me to live a happy and fulfilled life outside the four white walls I was used to, ensuring that I was adequately fed, clothed, and looked after. Count Lysander Vaedra was the black to Rosalind's white, her complete opposite. He lacked empathy, kindness, or even care for his family– running the household like a military camp. Unlike his sons, who he planned to be enlisted as Lothar Knights, Lysander was a feared member of the Oprichnny, a group that terrorized our homeland.
And yet, despite Lysander's iron fist around their home, Riftan and Zolo were once happy and normal children who were quick to befriend and care for me in my time of need. It was almost as if I had gotten my happy ending. Sure, it wasn't the best of situations– but it was better than what I had.
That was until everything crumbled beneath my feet.
On one summer's eve, I wandered back to the Vaedra Estate in Zemlya Obitovana as I had every evening, only this time, I was an hour late. I remember my bare feet meeting the paved cobblestone that led to the front of the house, the ashes of many corpses littering the ground. I stepped through them, watching as strangers ignorant of my presence disposed of what was left of them. I passed by Mrs. Troyanda with the familiar scent of death plaguing my nostrils, and the handkerchief she had given me clutched into my hand. I strolled past her and onward towards the Garden and spent my eve comforting the Vaedra Brothers for the loss of their family, not even bothering to take note of the scarf of fabric clenched tightly in Riftan's hand.
I wouldn't get to seek out this clue until today. Today, I saw my future sister-in-law through the crowd on the Crookback Bridge. I felt the gears in my biotic almost… twitch as if they were experiencing pain as I saw that she had endured a similar fate to me. Her left arm had been severed, and a new biotic had been installed, whispers telling her that no other than my' brother' was the culprit. I couldn't even imagine that Riftan could have gone so far as to tear apart family members limb from limb. I heard rumors, but now I had evidence right before me.
Conflicted and boiling with emotions I could barely process, I stormed the Vaedra Estate in search of my brother and found nothing but an empty office. Enraged, I began to toss furniture and go through his drawers, cabinets, and anything else I could find. And it is there that I found the evidence that I'd like to present to you all.
Inside his office, I found numerous documents that he had written about his times in Tigrun and Baldmark, about the many victims that fell to his blade on the mere suspicion of being Occult. Occult that was never screened, tested, or shown tell-tale signs of affliction. People that died as an act of revenge by his blade for the 'vampires' he claimed killed his mother and family in cold blood– remember this statement as it will come into play. I also found letters from Riftan's father and unknown sender regarding my 're-location' at the hands of the Oprichnny when I was a child that Riftan could not have missed as an adult, feigning ignorance to my capture. His father's involvement was not to my surprise, but what was to my surprise was the continued support for this Organization that purges Children for even blinking in a way that 'hints' at being occult. The Oprichnny, an organization that ignores the law protecting Mages from their terror, is still actively supported by House Vaedra. With Riftan even going out of his way to claim those affected by this group (even the legal Mages and Nelfin) to have deserved it outright, making their extended reign on my homeland worse with every endorsement.
Carmine's injury was no longer a surprise when I found that clue I wrote about earlier in this notice. A piece of fabric from a Lothar Knight's cape with their sigil imprinted into the clasp, one that hadn't belonged to anyone in the family. Riftan knew that The Lothar brought down House Vaedra in Zemlya Obitovana and went into the Order knowing that this was the same charter responsible for Mrs. Troyanda's death.
That marks the end of my findings.
Mark me as heretical or speaking ill of the Lothar order if you so wish, but I have not and will not hesitate to unveil the truth of this house. I denounce House Vaedra for its head being a danger to the Occult and even those who stand in his way. He's torn apart even his own family, not to mention the ones that mysteriously disappeared from the Estate after minor disagreements never being found. Even outside the Estate, most can attest to his violent rampages through the city, even maiming another one – whom I've yet to find the identity of.
And to Count Vaedra,
Vy znayete, yak ya stavlyusya do zradnykiv.
You are not my brother.
You are not my brother.
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