Acteronis Athanasius' Journal

Entry #1

The stained piece of parchment lies amongst the rubble. It seems to have been torn out of a tome or journal

.… houses, streets and fountains. They spared no expense, of course, and it would seem the preparations for the ceremony are coming along smoothly. I am too busy with the Order as of now to help with the arrangements, but this pleases Father. He would rather see me ride around the outskirts of the City than count the number of wine skins for the banquet. He guaranteed I would be seated to his left in the Arena ceremony, and not Aemulus, like the General had first decided. Obviously, no one is going to contradict Father on the day of his ascension to Legend.

Three months remain before father’s retirement, but he already hung the Family Shield on the trophy wall. I doubt he will ride into combat anytime soon. Despite his longevity and renown vigor, he grows old. Moreover, Mother and him and so involved with the expansion of the city library that the Order have already appointed a new Commander. By the Sands, what big shoes to walk in! Or is it what a large hat to don? Mr. Paige how does the idiom go? Are you writing this down?

Ink is a precious resource, no entry will be redacted.Do write that I said that.

Father asked that no combat event be held in the Arena during the day-long ceremony. He instead asked that the prisoners originally scheduled to fight be pardoned. We are still waiting for an answer from the city council, but I doubt they will abide by the second request. Father is an influential man, but I feel the rulers of this great city have a disdain for our noble Order, at times.

I was asked to make a speech at the ceremony. It is an honour to do so, but quite frankly I am petrified at the idea. It is one thing to motivate troops, but it is entirely different to pay tribute to your greatest hero. Father is a charismatic man. Few souls truly deserve the title ‘Hero’. I wish I knew to inspire crowds the way he does. All I can do is try to channel Father through my words. Maybe some day I, too, can become immortal through the songs and monuments of the everlasting Onak-Al.

Scrivened by Edmund Paige,
as dictated by Sir Acteronis Idwal Athanasius