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16th of Flostym, 401
Today was… eventful, to say the least. That clod Desaix conscripted a Zofian noble-Fernand, it was-to serve under my command. A former member of the Deliverance comes crawling to me, begging for a place at my side, gawping at my words and prattling on about his ideals! And that isn’t even the worst of it. This herd of sheep Zofia calls the “Deliverance” dared to approach the castle, their pointed sticks bared against Rigelian steel! Desaix, cowardly fool that he is, turned tail at the sight of them; he left the castle gates wide open, and left me short a dracoshield! At the very least, the rabble served to entertain Fernand and I, fighting with fang and claw as if they believed they had a chance! If my Empress Rinea had not been stationed within the castle’s halls, I would have gladly joined in the revelry, and perhaps then I would still be writing within Zofia Castle! Gods help me, for I am the only one in this army with skill to back my words…
2nd of Avistym, 401
Curse that Alm… I had hoped to entertain myself today, not to fall to a commoner. There I was, lance in hand, having the absolute time of my life. “Ha! What’s the matter, farmboy?” I said, drinking deep in sadism and Schadenfreude. I was completely lost in the moment, so captivated I was by our duel! Just then, however, when I was about to finish him off, I saw it… the Brand of Duma. But it could not be the real Brand. No, it isn’t possible! As false as its bearer, no doubt; no one as unimportant as that cur is deserving of such power…! A sheep cannot face a lion, marked or not! I grow tired of the Deliverance’s games; they now parade around within our own borders, lambs among wolves! Loath as I am to admit it, I must beg Uncle for one more chance. If there is anyone alive who can break them, it is me! You must forgive me for setting out again so soon, Rinea… In due time, these petty distractions will be beyond us, and I shall make you my Empress… Yes, I am sure of it.
24th of Pegastym, 401
DAMN HIM! DAMN HIM, I SAY! How many times must this… peasant threaten all I have lived for!? Must I bow down to that damnable whelp again? AGAIN!? Was it not enough to wound my pride? To preach platitudes of love and friendship while his boots tainted the ground of my homeland? To challenge my right as heir to the throne!? Even now, I can still feel his eyes on me. Watching. Waiting for the opportunity to strike. I will not allow it. I will not allow it! Even Rinea is unaware of his unabated malice. I have experienced it firsthand; upon my second battle with that dog, I found myself cornered by him and his pathetic excuse for an army. In a fit of desperation, I shattered the cursed mirror the Duma Faithful had given me, seeing a beast of a man trapped within its glass. I know not who had stared at me from the mirror, but the magic it had wrought was… it was hideous. Hands reaching out, grabbing, grasping, writhing, WRITHING… And… and it felt… absolutely wonderful. To see that monster struggle under Duma’s judgement stirred something terrifying-no, exhilarating-within me. For a sickeningly brief moment, his eyes were blinded. His voice went silent. His hands grew still. And then… he took everything from me. Again. AGAIN… I must see his corpse rot. I will not know peace until his blood coats my lance. Then, I shall rest… Then, I will claim what is mine…!
1st of Wyrmstym, 401
It’s mine…! Mine! ALL MINE! No longer shall their ghosts haunt me. No more shall I bend the knee to scum like him. The screech of his voice grew louder, louder, LOUDER once he thrust his blade into Rudolf’s chest. He took everything from me again. But no more. NO MORE, I SAY! In a beautiful episode of lucidity, of enlightenment, I made my way to Father Duma’s altar. The voices grew louder. The fire was so warm… His emerald eyes glared right through me. I heard footsteps. Rinea. She was yet ignorant to the ghosts that followed her. The way they played the songs of liars, commanding her to dance. The way the voices laughed, taunted, provoked, grew louder as she spewed invective. Her words were ice. Only Father Duma’s flame could thaw her frozen heart, and so I begged him to grant me the power to bring salvation to the world that those monsters had “delivered.” The vortex of fire embraced us both, cleansing us of our sins. Ah, the bliss we felt! The pure rapture we experienced! The voices finally, finally stopped! Now, we are ready. Now, we are free. It’s time, my Empress. He has taken everything from me. EVERYTHING! Now it is time to take everything from him. We’ll see it all aflame! All of it! ALL OF IT!