Original Timeline (KoY)

"Original Timeline" in relation to Kingdom of Yaoi refers to the first draft of Helvah Sei'Dist's backstory. The differences between this timeline and that of One Wish center largely around the canonical existence of Fred, and his influence on those around him. This timeline is the basis of the KoY-related AUs prior to the Break.

The sudden appearance of Vischias Sei'Dist and the arrival of the Djinn derailed the original plot prior to the beginning of Duty-Bound, in an alternate sequence of events referred to as the Possession Arc. It is at this point that the Break occurs, resulting in the creation of the multiverse, and eventually, the Reset that overwrites the Original Timeline with One Wish.

Parts of the Original Timeline appear in One Wish in the form of "Overlays," out of place memories experienced by certain characters. Overlays appear in a number of forms, and their triggers vary. Of all the characters changed in the Reset, the only one to remember the Original Timeline directly is Domine Aetian, though his awareness of his knowledge fluctuates. Etienne refers to these events as "The Before."

This article covers the majority of what was considered canon, as well as the fractures and variances that may have taken place.

Major Deviations
Prior to Fred's intrusion into the world, the major players featured in the reboot lived wildly different lives.
 * Fred did not exist, at all; his existence as a djinn was retconned in during the Possession Arc.
 * Frederick was an only child, a fact which left his father Reginald without a successor, due to the restrictions of his office. His father sheltered him, afraid to have his nature discovered. He never learned he was masoca.
 * Vischias grew up alone. At fifteen, he had a permanent breakdown, later becoming a slave-trader, human-hunter, and eventually a cannibal. He spent every waking moment terrorizing everyone he met. He died in a failed assassination attempt that erased his entire family, except for--
 * Helvah, who grew up terrified of Vischias, being his nearest target; he lived in fear of him every day. The gruesome deaths of his family combined with his stunted emotional development left him cold and detached, unable to connect with others. He doubted the existence of love until he found it with Frederick Du Con. His face is tattooed with a Kamari mourning tear, in honor of his lost kin.
 * Whiltheld, Naughta, Jonathan and Isabella were casualties of Vischias' final meltdown, in an incident that would follow him through every other verse. Prior to, only Jonathan was aware of his fraying mental state. His attempts to help him failed.
 * Whiltheld is a figure of mystery, and referred to almost exclusively as "the Viscount."
 * The other two families were never seen. As such, Etienne and Ever may not have existed. If they did, they were not encountered directly, though they may have had an influence on the plot (see: Unconfirmed Events).
 * Domina was only seen in Duty Bound, as Baroness of Mastri. She was intended as a bride to Vischias prior to his descent into madness, and was chosen as a mistress for Helvah by the Crown. She made no reference to having a twin brother.
 * Payne was Domina's son by Helvah, not Vischias. He was an only child, and grew up without his father.
 * Eileen was betrothed to Vischias during his final descent. His attempts to chase her off failed, so he killed and ate her. Whiltheld disowned him, which led to the attempted coup and all of their deaths.

= Confirmed Sequence of Events =

Two Brothers
The moment Helvah was born, Vischias hated him, and he wasted no time in proving it. Still hardly more than a toddler himself, being no more than four, Vischias took his infant brother from his cradle and walked into the forest in the dead of winter, abandoning him deep in the woods. A servant saw him leave and gave chase, rescuing the baby before he could die of exposure. Though Vischias denied any wrongdoing, it was the first sign of many that something was wrong with him.

As Helvah grew, his good temper and quick wit endeared him to his family, who doted on him in the rare moments they were present. He was well-liked by just about everyone--except for his brother. Vischias' dislike of him bloomed into outright hatred, his lonely existence seemingly worsened by his mere presence. It seemed to him that, no matter how he excelled, Helvah would always be better than him. He became convinced that no one cared for him specifically because the boy existed. This thought remained with him all his life, sparking a fixation with dragging him down. His treatment of him ranged from general bullying in sight of others to outright torture when they were alone. He regularly threatened him, reminding him of his inferiority, pushed him around and roughed him up. No one did anything about it.

Helvah bore with this regular torment, settling to wait it out. Vischias was gifted in a dozen ways he could never even approach--a musician, an artist, an athlete and a genius, to name a few. He could not hold a candle to him. He would be viscount one day, and Helvah had no intention of challenging that. He was seven already, and Vischias was nearly twelve. It was only a matter of time before he would be free.

A Witness
Of all the household, only one person took note of the signs: the newly-appointed head butler, Jonathan Priest. He picked up on Vischias' abusive behavior right off, and made several attempts to bring the abuse to light. Most of the household excused what he had seen as simple brotherly bullying, having no idea of the depths of it. Those who had some idea were too frightened of Vischias to admit the knowledge. Consumed with a crippling workload, the Viscount paid him no mind.

Left with no recourse, Jonathan took it upon himself to intercede. He often resorted to shielding and hiding Helvah from his brother, and actively worked to foil and even punish Vischias when he could. The effect was twofold: overnight, he became Helvah's closest ally, and Vischias' sworn enemy.

Jonathan had no intentions of making Vischias hate him. In truth, he had noticed more than the bullying; the older boy's destructive behavior was more than jealousy, and he knew it. What he didn't know was what to do about it. Attempts at reaching out to him were met with spite, and then Helvah turned up with bruises. It was all he could do to protect the boy from his increasingly erratic brother, and search for answers alone.

As Jonathan sought for a way to help him, Vischias' efforts to harm his hated little brother intensified. He started hiding the abuse, intimidating Helvah to keep him from seeking help and terrorizing him in ways that left no marks. It was around this time that Vischias took an interest in hunting, which only brought weapons into his frequent threats of violence. Helvah sought any way he could to avoid him, and when he couldn't, he simply gritted his teeth and prayed for someone to happen by.

They lived this way until Helvah was eleven, and Vischias nearly fifteen. Then, everything went to Hell.

The Cliff
In the days following Helvah's eleventh birthday, Vischias' persistent torturing of him suddenly subsided. The troubled teenage boy seemed to disappear into his own head. He stopped eating, and stopped talking altogether, barricading himself in his room for days at a time. Helvah was at once relieved, but Jonathan was not, seeing the abrupt change in him for what it was: a sign of something terrible to come.

Jonathan continued to try and get through to him, but Vischias shut him out, resenting his concern. Attempts to convince his parents to intercede failed; the Viscount was busy, the Viscountess perpetually out of contact. Even the nursemaid Isabella, the only person he cared for, could not reach him. At last, the servants formulated a plan. In a last-ditch attempt to keep him from starving to death, Jonathan prepared the household for a trip to the seaside. Vischias had always loved the ocean. With the Viscount in the capital and his wife away visiting, the servants took the children to the coast, hoping the familiar sight of the waves would soothe the struggling boy.

The effect was not what they expected.

Faced with the great expanse of the sea, he came out of a week-long fugue to a single moment of comfort--and with it, the revelation of his fate. No one knew what troubled him, because he had never spoken it, failing to understand it himself. All he knew in that moment was that the horrors inside of him would soon claw free, and the peace he felt would be forever lost. It was at that moment that he decided to die. In full view of his horrified brother, Vischias Sei'Dist threw himself from the cliffs, plummeting into the rocky waters.

Jonathan watched from the shore as he fell, and wasted no time diving in after him, fetching him back before he could drown. It was a choice that Vischias would never forgive him for.

Possessed
Vischias awoke from his suicide attempt in agony. He had cracked his head on the sea floor, fracturing his skull and irrevocably injuring his brain. The doctors could do nothing to relieve the pain. He screamed so loud and for so long that he damaged his vocal cords, leaving his voice with a permanent rasp. The swelling from the trauma cut off the blood supply to the regulatory center of his brain. Though he eventually recovered his motor-skills and cognition, his ability to regulate his emotions was gone, and with it, all control he had over his baser instincts.

It was like a switch was thrown. Vischias' personality deteriorated to only the most base components, his former brilliance and skill in art and music vanishing overnight in favor of sudden, inexplicable outbursts of psychotic rage. He became physically and even sexually aggressive with the people around him, his developing size only tempting him to test the bounds of what he could do to those he menaced. He responded to any level of pain with unspeakable violence, lost his temper at small inconveniences and demolished things at every turn.

The servants were terrified, and most of them quit, disappearing into the night for fear of what would happen if they were caught alone with the young master. Those who escaped whispered that the boy was possessed, and word eventually reached his absent father. The Viscount responded to pleas from Jonathan and his remaining staff with an ultimatum: Vischias would control himself, and behave as he was expected to--or else he would be disowned, and Helvah would take his place.

Just like that, the fits stopped. Vischias returned to school at the end of the summer, and it seemed that everything was fine. In truth, Vischias had merely found a workaround to his newfound condition: he viewed it as a game. How long could he "act" like a normal person, before the monster would come out again? Who would it strike? It was like Russian Roulette, played with a half-loaded gun. Though he took on a mocking semblance of his former self, his halfhearted interest in the arts never returned.

A Caged Beast
Having taken to venting his newfound aggression on his classmates and teachers, Vischias was inevitably expelled from school the next year. It was now a matter of public record that there was something wrong with his son. Convinced that he was simply acting out in classic Sei'Dist fashion, his father had him confined to the house, hiring the bravest tutors he could find to rush through the rest of his studies. Structure, he hoped, would bring him to heel--and the lack of potential victims would starve out this newfound fixation with hurting people.

Whiltheld vastly underestimated his creativity. For years, Vischias found other ways to amuse himself. With Jonathan no longer a match for him, he had free rein of whoever he ran across, driving yet more of the staff to resign. He returned to hunting, disappearing for days and weeks at a time. When he was home, he split his time between study and his original favorite sport: dismantling his competition, by whatever means he fancied.

And very suddenly, he fancied things he should not. His abuse of Helvah redoubled--and quietly, it turned sexual. Vischias made his intentions clear, and assured his younger brother of what the consequences would be if he sought help. It was just a matter of time before he would get him alone. And when he did, he would have no hope of fending him off.

When it came time for him to go off to school, Helvah was all too ready. He did not return for holidays, or even write, save to tell Jonathan he was well. He spent his summers studying with private masters, in hopes of learning a trade, or just how to defend himself. He took to wearing clothing that knotted in complex patterns, to ward himself from attack. And he was careful never to write down where he was. He stayed away for two years, praying that by the time he came back, Vischias would have thrown himself from another cliff.

Masquerade
In his absence, his brother mastered the playact of pretending to be himself, to the point that their father genuinely believed his prior horrors had been an particularly ugly phase. Vischias completed his studies and was introduced to proper society, and despite the whispers about him, he was popular. The wildness in his eyes was a lure to anyone brave enough to tempt him. He took a number of partners, most of them closeted masochists in search of someone to harm them. He kept none of them.

During the off-season, Vischias disappeared for months, having taken a job as a mercenary. "Seeing the world," or so he claimed to his parents. They cared little, as long as he didn't embarrass them. The scent of blood followed wherever he went. His father arranged a marriage for him in his absence, to remind his distracted and troubled son of his coming responsibilities. It was the foolish attempt of a man in deep denial of his circumstances. The decision would seal all of their fates.

Presented with Eileen Ofton, the shy and obedient daughter of a bannerman, Vischias rebelled. His love of the hunt and a challenge left him unimpressed with the meek and fearful girl. They remained engaged for two years, and in that time, he did everything he could to drive her away. When avoiding and insulting her failed, he resorted to threats of violence. Eileen would not be moved. If anything, she seemed more drawn to him for his perversion, though she showed no signs of fighting back.

Still, there were appearances to be kept up. Vischias continued to attend events with the weak-willed girl at his side, sure in the knowledge that he would never marry her. If she would not flee from him, he reasoned, he would give her cause. And if that failed, he would simply kill her.

Cracks
Helvah returned from school hoping to find him gone. He was hardly so lucky. With his work on hold and the social season ended, Vischias was home, and he was quick to showcase how little he had improved. He remained just as unhinged as deranged as he had been, now with the added ability to disguise his intentions. He acted casually, even as he threatened and degraded him--but then, Helvah started to watch him, and the cracks in his guise came to light.

Using what he had learned from his master--an Inquisitor to the Crown--he began taking note of his behaviors. His tells were prominent within a handful of encounters; his voice became high and sharp when he began to lose control, his postures savage and aggressive. His eyes seemed clouded, as if in a trance. And he bared his teeth like a wolf, seconds before he intended to strike. Watching him from a distance, he observed signs of yet more inconsistencies. Vischias sometimes froze, staring at fixed points in space for minutes at a time. He talked to himself aloud, deaf to himself as he voiced things that should never be said. Sometimes, he dropped things he had been firmly holding, or missed things he reached for. Jonathan confirmed his observations. Whatever condition had driven him to this point, it was advancing--and it was doing so quickly. Helvah resolved to tell his father when he returned, hoping against hope that he would heed him.

But he was not the only one capable of watching, and somehow, he had made his own designs clear enough to be noticed. A matter of days later, Vischias cleared the house of frightened servants and attempted to assault him. The struggle was one-sided. Jonathan intervened one final time, clubbing him over the head with a candlestick before he could complete the attempt. The encounter left Helvah with a wrenched shoulder and unmistakable hand-marks around his throat, and Vischias with a concussion. The moment he regained consciousness, he escaped his locked room through the window and disappeared into the night.

Consequences
The Viscount arrived the next morning, and the furious Chamberlain rounded on him, demanding he act at last--but Helvah refused to speak up, afraid of what would happen when Vischias returned. Still, the visible proof was enough to sway him. As the marshals searched for his absent son, he promised the remaining one all of the protection he could offer, and prepared to answer the offense when the aggressor was captured.

No more than a day later, Vischias was arrested by the Viscount's Guard. Several of them were injured during his capture, which only further condemned him in the eyes of his father. The state he returned in was damning; his hands and clothing were caked in blood, which he claimed belonged to an animal. Even then, his reaction to the charges against him was casual. He had been assaulted, he claimed, and had no memory before that. The Viscount was unconvinced. Vischias was warned against approaching his brother again while he contemplated his fate, to which he calmly agreed.

The promise lasted all of two days. Though Helvah remained under near-constant guard, the moment they happened across each other in a vacant hall, Vischias had him in an arm-lock. He promised him he would succeed in his next attempt, slotted for his upcoming birthday. Nothing on earth would protect him--and if he told a single person they had met, he swore, Vischias would make him wish that Jonathan had never rescued him.

The Viscount's judgment came down in short order. Burdened by the knowledge of what his son had become, Whiltheld disinherited him. As a mercy, he offered him until his birthday to confess the extent of his crimes, at which point he would be exiled. Helvah would succeed him, as he had always feared.

Vischias was shattered. His entire life had led up to the moment he would succeed his father, and everything he had suffered had been in service of that goal. Years spent in silence as madness ripped his brain apart. Constant pain and isolation. Gritting his teeth, and smiling, and pretending, and it all amounted to nothing. Faced with the loss of everything he had been promised, and convinced of his right to it all, Vischias unraveled completely. The subsequent meltdown found him confined to his quarters. From behind the barred door, he set about arranging his own judgment. His father had not yet submitted his disinheritance, he knew--but he could not disinherit him if he was dead.

And Helvah could not replace him if he was dead, too.

Last Man Standing
As Vischias' birthday loomed on the horizon, Helvah faced a nightmarish dilemma. Though his brother was confined, he knew too well what he was capable of to assume that made him safe. If he stayed in that house, he would not live to face the dire fate of succeeding his father. Vischias would get out, and if he was lucky, he would just kill him. He knew that he would not be lucky. As the sun rose the dreaded morning, Helvah took a horse and fled, driving off as far across the province as he could reach. He told no one where he was going, and he didn't look back. It was a choice he would regret for the rest of his life.

Helvah spent October 12th in the forests of Libertine, the farthest point from his home he could reach in half a day. None of the locals took notice of the foreign teenager loitering in the area; he made sure to keep a low profile, to prevent anyone his brother might know from identifying him. There he remained until sunset, when he rode to his master's home to stay for the night. He told him everything, in hopes that the man would protect him. Having received word of Vischias' pending removal, he assured him that he could remain the subsequent three days it would take for the Viscount to have him officially arrested and transported to the border. That was precisely what he did.

The days came and went in relative quiet, Helvah busying himself with study, his horse kept locked in the stables to prevent it from being recognized. Mastri was dangerously close to home, and Vischias had any number of friends--but he was safe in the Royal Inquisitor's household. When the time came to leave, he assured his master of his own safety, freeing the man to depart on other business. He declined the company of the Inquisitor's guard and headed home. Even assured that his enemy was long gone, he could not help but feel a sense of dread as he mounted the steps to the house.

The sight that met him beyond the doors seared itself forever into his mind.

Vischias had orchestrated a coup in his absence, and the result remained to greet him as he returned home. His mercenary contacts had made quick and grisly work of the household. His mother, his father, their nurse and the butler were scattered about the foyer in various states of near-unrecognizable mutilation. The worst of it, however, hung above the horrific display: slung from the chandelier like a gory puppet hung the disfigured horror that was once his brother. The cutthroats had turned on him, cut out his jaw and tongue, disemboweled him, and left him to rot.

All that Remains
Having discovered that Vischias never reached the border, the Inquisitor rushed back. Three days had passed in the interim. Seventeen-year-old Helvah was found crammed in the corner behind the door, caked in blood that was only partially his and completely catatonic. It was another seven before he made a sound, and the first thing out of his mouth was an anguished scream. It lasted most of an hour. The boy was inconsolable, secretly injured and completely unhinged. His entire House was dead...all, except for him.

Helvah's master was the first to grasp the extent of what had been done. Among the casualties were the family themselves, in pieces on the floor, and the Viscount's guard, stacked in the kitchens like so many butchered pigs. The few servants who had not yet abandoned the family were variously scattered in the halls, their deaths made quick and less precise. To recover the bodies, a team of Inquisitors was summoned from the capital; the state of the place was so gruesome that the first responders were too frightened to enter the house again.

In a single night, the entirety of the household had been slaughtered. Worst of all, no proof remained of what had brought it about. Even Helvah, who so despised him, could not imagine that this nightmare was of Vischias' own making.

The Sei'Dists were not the only victims of the mad lordling's rampage. Not long afterward, the remains of Eileen Ofton were found--or at least, what remained. Her head and torso were all that was recovered, left not far from where Vischias was captured. The surviving components were riddled with bite-marks, the presence of a camp not far from the body implying she had not been alone. The truth was terribly clear. In the days before his final turn, Vischias had done to Eileen what he had intended to do to Helvah...and he had eaten much of the evidence. And now that he was dead, there was no one left to punish.

Disappear
Word spread quickly through whispers and sobs; the Sei'Dists had been murdered by some unknown enemy, and the youngest of them was missing. Taken hostage, some assumed, or run away to save his own life. In truth, the Royal Inquisitor took him in, protecting him as best he could from the aftermath of what he had seen. He used all of his power to prevent the knowledge of his survival from getting out.

When Helvah finally recovered--a process that took months, and never truly ended--his master gave him the means to escape. If he was found, the Crown would insist that he take up his father's mantle, and seek out those who had massacred his House. It was a fate that neither of them wanted for him. Unable to process the concept of ruling with the guilt of his survival on his heart, Helvah took the offer, and disappeared into neighboring Kamar. That was the last Paraphilia saw of him, for nearly thirteen years.

A Traveler
His face now permanently marked with a sign of his mourning, Helvah spent the next decade traveling, learning, studying, doing anything he could to distance himself from what he had escaped. With every step he took, the guilt of it ate at him. The knowledge that he had fled, and left his family to die. Though he could have done nothing to help them, the fact remained that he had run away, and so had survived whatever horror had taken them. Even Vischias, whom he had so despised, had met a fate he would never have wished on anyone.

No matter the people he met, nor the places he saw, his solitude remained absolute. No one person could replace what he had lost. Of all his line--a legacy of power centuries strong--only he remained. All that survived of that sprawling history were the pocket watch his father gave him, and his gauntlet, taken from his body as he had waited in vain to die.

He remained in contact with his master, keeping him apprised of his state, even as he grew colder and more distant. The friends he made were only on the surface, sought to quell the loneliness that bloomed from a life that felt stolen. He studied his chosen trade, crossing into Paraphilia only to hone it, and ventured across the world in search of a place to belong. He could not go home, lest he be known for who he was and forced to take the seat his father had left--but he could only walk so far.

Someday, he knew, he would have to find a place to belong.

New Beginning
The answer came in the form of a foreign Kingdom, crossed into by chance. Populated almost solely by men, the Kingdom of Yaoi was a place of pleasant madness, its denizens foregoing warfare and politics in favor of amusement, enjoyment, and pleasure. Their priorities were foolish and shallow, their people too trusting and too welcoming, and they welcomed him right away. They looked upon him and saw not an orphaned spare lordling, but a handsome and educated traveler, bearing all the wonders of half a lifetime spent wandering.

For the first time, Helvah felt he belonged somewhere--and somehow, it felt safe. Being unknown felt safe. When he said his name, no one recognized it. Nobody asked where he was from with more than passing interest. It was in those first moments as he stood, surrounded by curious admirers, that he decided he had found the place he intended to be. He would make a place for himself there, by whatever means necessary. He would be safe, far away from his home and all he had lived.

He would never be afraid again.

Life in Exile
It had been twelve years since Helvah's flight from Paraphilia to escape from his past. In that time, he had learned four languages, walked the known world, and plied his trade across the globe, before establishing himself as Royal Inquisitor to the Queen of Yaoi. At court, he was popular, known for his charming, formal manner and mysterious air. He befriended everyone he met, but he was careful to keep them all at arm's reach. He seldom spoke of his life before, but the few that knew him well enough knew not to question the reason he never slept.

Frequent nightmares drove him from his bed at all hours as he struggled to move on from what had happened. The twisted shadows of his family followed wherever he went, cautioning him against letting anyone get too close, lest they share their unfortunate fate. He became convinced that the deaths were somehow his fault. It was a guilt he would never live down.

Helvah filled the emptiness inside of him with hollow friendships and meaningless trysts with anyone who showed interest, which was half of everyone he met. He worked at his craft, utilizing his skills for the betterment of the Kingdom. From his tower, he watched the joyous lives of his peers with interest, wondering at the freedom they felt--and if he would ever know it himself.

A Ray of Light
His reprieve from self-imposed misery came unexpectedly, in the form of Frederick Du Con. Seven years his junior, and hailing from his native Paraphilia, the court counselor was a ray of light in Helvah's dark and dire world. He was understanding, gentle and kind, and maybe a little naive, but far from foolish, ever ready to lend an ear or a hand where he was able. He saw right through the front of charm and mystery Helvah projected, gazing past it to the wounded and lonely boy who pushed everyone away for fear of bringing them harm. But Frederick would not be pushed away. Even as others came and went, he remained.

In his presence, the beauty and joy the Kingdom seemed all the more gleeful, Frederick's wonder at the foolishness of it all endearing him to the Inquisitor. His sympathetic nature and endless patience were a far cry from what he was used to. Helvah set out first to seduce the young and impressionable counselor, and was surprised when the obviously interested younger man resisted him, showing more interest in his mind than his body.

What started as a friendship quickly blossomed into something far deeper than Helvah anticipated. In all his life, the only love he had known had been in the form of his mentor, Jonathan, now just another body in the ground. The more time they spent together, the more certain he became that he was approaching something he had never known. Something that might even be permanent. The thought that another could mean so much to him again shook him to his very core.

The nightmares continued, and worsened for his dear friend's presence in them. Helvah began to pull away, but for every step he withdrew, Frederick paced him, refusing to be shut out. He gave him space when he needed it, but he left his door open, and his hand outstretched. When Helvah called him, he came. And Helvah faced the very real possibility that he would spend the rest of his life seeking for the courage to take that hand.

Then, one quiet summer, a letter arrived from Paraphilia, addressed to Lord Sei'Dist. That single sheet of paper shattered the delicate balance of Helvah's newfound life.

Letter
The summons was short and to the point: the Paraphilian Crown knew where he was, and while they were sympathetic to his circumstances, the fact remained that he was the sole remaining heir of his House. They had given him ample time to return of his own accord, and he had failed to do so. Now, he was to return home, in order to negotiate the settling of his father's affairs. If he did not, they would have him extradited as a deserter, and he would lose his position at court.

Helvah was beside himself. He had spent more than a decade struggling to distance himself from his prior life, and all at once, it had come to his door. Everything he had made for himself was slipping away--and if he wanted any chance of holding onto it, he would have to comply. Unable to speak of his past, Helvah penned a series of letters, to the Queen, his friends, and finally, to Frederick, expressing his affections and regrets in the only way he knew how. These letters were his farewell; in the event that he failed to return, they would stand as proof that he had existed, and assure those he left behind of the feelings he could never voice.

Carrying with him only a ledger and his heavy heart, Helvah departed that day without a word, leaving only his father's watch as a promise to his would-be lover that he would return for him. He crossed the border into Paraphilia convinced that the visit would be a brief one.

He was sorely mistaken.

Duty-Bound
For their part, the Crown was welcoming, but remained firm in their position that Helvah was the rightful Viscount of Sadistique. He was expected to take up his mantle, or else to produce an heir to do so in his stead. It quickly became apparent that the latter option would be his only way out. Ever so helpfully, the Crown provided him a noble mistress to suit the task: Domine Aetrix, the formidable Baroness of Mastri--the daughter of his father's oldest enemy. The choice smacked of irony.

His first act as Viscount was to take residence his former home, Payne Hall. His arrival there took a great toll. The moment he crossed the threshold, faced with the setting for twelve years of nightmares, Helvah broke down. His first day was spent in a fear-induced fugue, wandering among the ghosts of his family, long since dead and buried in the gardens just beyond the gates. The mutilated wraith of his brother seemed flicker at the corner of his eye.

Unable to leave but unwilling to stay, Helvah resolved to face the reality of his fear--that it was born from guilt that was not his to carry--and he set about the work of reclaiming the house. A staff was recruited to restore the grounds, the objects that triggered his horrors were destroyed, and every piece of paper belonging to his father was gathered for his scrutiny. For a decade, the province had almost run itself, thanks in large part to the work of his predecessor. He was determined to learn how it was done, to better ensure that he would never have to return.

It was in this way that Helvah spent six months in Paraphilia, filling the role of Viscount at the behest of the Crown, all the while balking at the idea of consummating the Crown's generous offer. Domina did her part in trying to persuade him, largely because she stood to gain from carrying the long-awaited Sei'Dist heir. He shunned her almost entirely. Instead, he invested his time in studying his father's notes and work...and eventually, coming across his personal journals.

It was at this point that Helvah realized how little truly he knew.

The Oldest Game
The pages revealed to him a man he had never known. Raised by a tyrant, blockaded at every side into duties and positions he wanted no part of, Whiltheld Sei'Dist had been a prisoner in his own office, chosen reluctantly and expected to fail. The revelation that his fate was not unlike his father's-- trapped beneath a title he despised, pressed firmly towards a life he did not want--brought him a measure of peace. The Viscount had succeeded from spite alone, knowing the Crown would allow him no exit. With their full disapproval, he had become a good leader.

This realization quickly led to others: first, that he had known nothing of his family's inner lives--and that the Crown were not so kind as they pretended.

As Domina advanced on him, intent on securing a claim on his lands, Helvah buried himself in world, revising laws, overseeing restoration, even paying visits to his vassals. Those who had served his father were torn by his presence, and those who had not virulently fought his influence. He made it his mission to bring them to task, not beneath his banner, but the banner of the province itself. They had worked together in his absence, and would have to again. He did not want their fealty. All he asked was the promise that they would work to protect what his predecessor had set in motion, and support the one he left in his stead.

Amidst this mad flurry of progress, Helvah received a call from the one lord he had not visited: Reginald Du Con. A hermit among Sadistian nobility, his appearance at Payne Hall was the first since the massacre, and only the third in his lifetime. He arrived with no fanfare. His interest was not in the future of Sadistique so much as Helvah's future, in so far as it involved his only son. Frederick had been devastated by Helvah's flight, and had returned home in the interim. The knowledge that his lover was so close brought him no comfort, as he remained beholden to the Crown and their designs. Though Reginald had rightly sussed out his reason for returning, he opposed the way it had been carried out. He demanded an explanation.

Helvah wasted no time, assuring him that his decision to return was partly due to Reginald's influence. Their first meeting had been soured by the Baron's dark opinion of his choice to abandon his duty to his name. Like Whiltheld before him, the Crown had put Helvah in a corner, and so he had marched home to the tune of Reginald's words. He had a duty, to the province and his fallen family, and he refused to put Frederick through the horror of witnessing as he saw it through. He asked that the Baron keep the knowledge of Helvah's presence to himself, to prevent his well-meaning son from seeking him out as he went about securing his escape.

Displeased, but at a loss, Reginald agreed. He cautioned Helvah against trusting the Crown and Their charity. They had a long record in the Old Game. Any help he thought he was getting, he said, was a carrot under a net. If They had Their way, he would never return to the Kingdom. Helvah had gleaned as much from the journals, but kept the knowledge to himself. The only question remaining was how he intended to handle it.

Setting the Board
The answer came from an unlikely source: Domina herself, who volunteered her knowledge of Their true intentions. The Crown was going to force his compliance, in whatever way They saw fit. The promised child would just be the start. They would then want two, then three. Higher taxes and repaired roads. The list of demands would grow until it was so great that Helvah would never be free. And if he tried to flee, They would have him prosecuted for the murder of his family--a charge that would see him banished from the Kingdom, and hanged.

Helvah was floored.

Domina then proposed a strategy: he would pretend to cooperate, and finish his work on restoring Sadistique's infrastructure--and silently, she would sew the seeds of descent against the Crown. With years as a stateman and warlord under her belt, Domina was in a position to rally the greatest support, knowing full-well that Sadistique was patriotic to itself first, and would better take a leader tied to her. She would bear the child that They required, and take over stewardship of the province. The arrangement would be made public, to ensure the Crown's compliance, at the cost of smudging Helvah's "good" name. In return, Helvah would be free to go home, safe in the knowledge that the child in question would be raised to take his place--and ready to fight the aging Crown into their overdue graves.

Though suspicious of her motives, Helvah agreed. He had nothing to lose but his freedom. It was with much personal discomfort that the deal was consummated at last, and the stage set for the final gambit.

As the autumn turned to winter, Domina fell with child, and the news was spread throughout the province. Helvah was abdicating his position in favor of his unborn child, and would leave the Baroness in control until a time at which he or she was old enough to lead in his stead. The cold war between House Sei'Dist and House Domine was ended, and the people would be left in capable hands. Public opinion generally went through the roof, with even the oldest lords preferring the daughter of the fierce Baron Domine to the runaway son of the late and unpopular Viscount.

The Crown was furious.

Checkmate
was not so much that They cared for Helvah or mourned his lost kin so much as They wanted things to be a certain way. That way had seen a Sei'Dist under Their heels for more than a century, and in the past decade, those heels had grown cold. Their will was not just that he stay, but that he remain on his knees, crushed into the battered mold his father had died in. If that meant resorting to blackmail, then They were not above it.

The ultimatum was given: Helvah would take Domina as his wife, thereby removing her from power, and he would continue to bear his father's mantle until he joined his family in the ground. If he refused, the damning facts of his discovery in the Manor would be brought to the neighboring Queen, and Helvah would be publicly tried for murder. They would see him in a coronet, or else in a noose; either way, They had his bloodline already secured.

Standing before the Inner Circle, Helvah burst out laughing. He had never lost contact with the Queen, he said, in all the time he was gone. A steady stream of messages had flown from his pen to that of the Knight Captain of Yaoi, explaining his past, one letter at a time. Journals and letters uncovered in his late brother's room revealed that Vischias had orchestrated the murders himself in a misguided coup, intent on killing Helvah himself, and that he was betrayed at the last moment. Notarized copies were presented to the Crown, with the originals safely across the border. The knowledge had also been published that same day, and spread to every corner of the land. If the Crown attempted to try him, every person in Paraphilia would know why. If he was killed, the Queen would know why. And if anything happened to Domina, all of Mastri's warrior populace would tear down the Palace, brick by brick.

An agreement was tidily reached: Helvah would abdicate and riscind his Paraphilian citizenship, while Domina would be left to rule in his stead, maintaining her own title and raising their child as she chose. That child would become the next Viscount of Sadistique and Baron of Mastri. She would send him a letter every month to mark the child's progress, and to ensure her continued survival--with the understanding that if those letters stopped, the Kingdom itself would come knocking.

It was decided that the Sei'Dist legacy would end where it started. The boy would be named Payne, in honor of the clan that had started it all. Victory firmly in hand, Helvah spoke his piece to the family he had lost, closed the doors to the Manor, said goodbye to the land that had borne him, and headed home.

The End
Helvah was welcomed back to the Kingdom in a variety of ways. The Queen hugged him, glad to have her friend and advisor returned safely to her Court. The Knight Captain shook his hand, having done nothing but suggest a threat that might work. The Huntsmaster avoided him for a week, and then punched him in square the eye. And Christmas morning, the Royal Counselor awoke to a man in his bed.

For the first time ever, Frederick shouted at Helvah. Helvah let him shout. Then, he told him everything.

Having found peace at last with the nightmare he had come from, Helvah asked Frederick to marry him the following spring. That autumn, Domine Aetian Payne vil Sei'Dist was born.

Additions and Variances
Over time, certain details were added to or moved around the original backstory, leaving jagged edges on the plot. These details, while considered canon, vary by how they went down and how they were received.

Important points that vary are:
 * If Vischias' choices of amusement was common knowledge. Helvah describes him in the original text as a slave trader, despite not having been there during that period, and refers to him as a cannibal, though the evidence may not have come to light. He also refers to his hunting people for sport as early as the winter Vischias went insane, when the hobby would have come later. For the purposes of this summary, it's assumed the extent wasn't known, merely that he was involved in something distasteful.
 * Whether Vischias' involvement in the massacre was known. Having only had his threat in mind, Helvah had no proof that his brother's men were the cause. It was eventually decided that there was no way for him to know, as his correspondence with the mercenaries was largely one-sided. The revelation was addressed during Duty-Bound.
 * How much the House was aware of Vischias' mental illness. Jonathan is confirmed to have picked up on it early, but what little Helvah managed to identify, he eventually suppressed along with memories of the massacre. Canonically, he has no memory of the described warning signs, only their outcomes.
 * Whether or not the Viscount was willfully ignorant or in complete denial of Vischias' instability. He was rarely present, often said to be away from home or otherwise distracted with work, preventing him from seeing the day-to-day horrors. The final verdict leans toward denial.
 * How much of the staff was chased off by Vischias' behavior. The household was designed to be small, for reasons of privacy, but it's likely that his last five years saw most of the staff resigning out of fear. How many of them he assaulted or attempted to assault is up for debate.
 * Whether Eileen's death was uncovered before or after the massacre. The death itself is canon, but Vischias faced no immediate consequences for it, and was never officially charged with her murder. The fact that he remained at home in his final days and not in prison implies that the remains weren't found until the household was already dead.
 * Whether Vischias was being taken for exile or trial the day after his birthday, freeing Helvah to return to the house. This depends on the former point; if Eileen's death was uncovered, it was the latter. Either way, he was intended to be gone when Helvah came home.
 * Whether Helvah was hidden or ran away himself. The Inquisitor--who would become Prince Hyppoliti--was a late-game addition, both to explain his line of work and justify his unlikely escape from Paraphilia. The truth of how he got away was never discussed, only that he was found in the house afterward.

Determinant Events
These events are possibly canon, under specific circumstances.

A Dire Choice
[Determinant: if Eileen is found before the massacre.]

The death of a nobleman's daughter was a charge the Viscount could not rule on; it required the court of the Crown. A public trial, and permanent shame on the House that had borne the criminal. His proposed exile would not be enough. When word reached the capital, the Crown would want blood.

Vischias was confined to his quarters under guard as Whiltheld grappled with his next choice. He could not have him arrested without drawing notice. If he kept to his duty, his former heir would be hanged as a murderer, and buried in an unmarked grave. If he sent him away, he would do so knowing that he was a threat to every person he would ever cross--and that he might come back. It was all he could do to keep him locked away as he sought an answer that would not end in yet more death.

Little did he know that his choice would never matter. The long shadow of Death was already enroute.

A Single Tear
[Determinant: if Helvah's presence was made known to the Rani of Kamar.]

Helvah arrived in Kamar with nothing but the contents of his pockets, speaking no more than ten words of the language his father was born to. It was an all new world, one to which he was a stranger. It was the perfect chance to put his Inquisitor's training to the test.

Within two months, he was conversational in Kaman, picking it up as he traded for books and staples in the bazaar. The ease with which it came to him was no surprise; his father's Kamari roots had seen them exposed to the culture growing up. It was just a matter of filling the gaps. He listened in as the merchants bartered, traded for books and tools, and asked local opinions on everything from the weather to the political climate. Swayed by his youth and practiced smile, people spoke freely. It was his first foray into intelligence work, the challenging offering him a welcome distraction from the life he had escaped.

But it was only a matter of time before his actions drew attention. Kamar was a secretive place, and prying questions were seldom well-accepted from foreign lips. A summons was soon drafted, demanding his appearance before the Rani of Kamar. His presence was unrecorded, and required explanation. How he responded would be the difference between his newfound freedom, and deportation back to Paraphilia. If he refused, they would think he was a spy--but if he did appear, he might be recognized for what he was: a runaway nobleman, hiding from his fate.

Drawing on all he had learned from his master, Helvah appeared before the Court of Kamar not as a noble, but a scholar, come to study the culture of his predecessors. His claims of Kamari lineage amused the court, who saw only a scarlet-haired foreigner. The Rani, however, was distinctly less dismissive. In the end, it was the few words he had come with that made the difference. Words such as "mother," and "home," taught to him young, by one who had spoken their tongue all his life. Though his reason for presence was false, his claim of heritage was legitimate. Whether she believed him was irrelevant; she invited him to remain in her presence. He could only accept.

Helvah took a position as a court scribe, mastering the Kaman script as he learned the workings of the country. He memorized the styles and forms of address, and studied the intricate rules of etiquette he had only glimpsed in his father's rare presence. In time, he became a fixture at court events, his quick wit and boyish charm endearing him to even the staunchest of separatists. It was a brilliant point on his resume.

He spent five years in Kamar, and never once spoke of his reason for staying. It was not until he decided to leave that the Rani revealed she had known all along. The features that her court had sneered at gave him away at a glance; looking into his face, she had known the source of his singular eyes. Pain, she said, could not always be spoken, but it showed to those who knew it well...and through his artful deception, she had seen the pain in those eyes. Unable to speak her regret for his loss, the news having spread in his wake, she had offered him the only comfort she safely could: a place in her home, as he sought out his path.

As he departed Kamar, the Rani offered him one final gift: a piece of his culture, to honor all he had lost. The black trail was the oldest symbol of their people, a line that spanned beneath the eye, descending the cheek in a single, permanent tear. It was a mark of mourning, worn in memory of those who were gone. The Rani had no less than four such marks descending from each eye. Helvah donned just one, to symbolize the single stroke that had taken his family away. Then, he departed, never knowing that he was her blood--the grandson of the Tiger that had spirited her sister away. .

The tattoo worn beneath his right eye would go on to become an iconic part of Helvah's image. He wore it the rest of his life, and only ever explained it once.

= Unconfirmed Events =

The Before
(To be added)