All That Remains
It should be understood that none of the quotes that follow are first-hand accounts, but the work of much study, archeological and historical research, and educated supposition by the Covenant’s archival prefects and their most accomplished apostles. Additionally, the following passages may not be entirely accurate as they weren’t transcribed as they were thought to be spoken. They’ve been translated here for ease of reading. Because of this, unfortunately, some things may be lost in the translation from the original Ångëlįc to common.
Translated passages will be indicated by the use of bold print.
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Selected Verses from the Afua Maisha: The Holy Book of the Covenant
The Goddess’ Holy Book; the Afua Maisha
The Queen Aamina Translation
The First Book of V’ëħënå – Chapter 2 – Verse 3
(III.) She looked at me. Sadness and Joy weighing in Her heart and reflecting in Her eyes in equal measure. And I knew not what I should do. Console? Support? Smile?
(IV.) So I simply stood there. Silent in my war barding. Each of my longswords resting in their scabbards to either side of me on my flanks; laying heavily in my weariness against my flanchards.
(V.) “You think it finally over V’ëħënå?”
(VI.) “You’d know far better than I, my Lady. But by Your name, I hope so. I wish not to draw my blade against any more of my kin.”
(VII.) “Nor I mine. Every strike against my dearest Så’Ħdënåħ has been as a stake being driven into my own heart.”
(VIII.) “And against Lumå’įl?”
(IX.) “Far, far worse.”
The Goddess’ Holy Book; the Afua Maisha
The Queen Aamina Translation
The First Book of V’ëħënå – Chapter 3 – Verse 1
(I.) The Goddess turned her back to me. Though not in malice. In deep thought. And it was there that we stood for an eternity of moments before She returned Her gaze, and I bowed in reverence.
(II.) “What would you have me do my Lady?”
(III.) “I would ask that you fetch Mįssħåël, Zåkÿntħos and my dear Sånįgron to me. I would have them meet with me at the cathedras. There’s something that I’ll need to do and I’ll require their council.”
(IV.) “If it’s to be of such import, would you care for it to be documented in the annals?”
(V.) “I suppose that would be prudent. Send for Ëkon as well.”
(VI.) “Of course my Lady. Should I return to your side once my work is complete?”
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(VII.) “My thanks. But there’s no need. It’s not protection I have want for, but guidance.”
(VIII.) “As you wish, my queen.”
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3000 A.G.G. – 3015 A.G.G. (1,618 Years Ago)
The Fourth Epoch, The Living World of Mundus
World Wide
Despite the many tragic triumphs of Brŭmal during the war, fortunately for Åmbrosįå, Sånįgron and the peoples of the living world, they were victories claimed in vain. And the Damned were to remain just that. By the conclusion of the fighting, Lumå’įl’s most trusted and capable Fallen Ǻngël-turned-Drågoon Tįlåtħ was left grievously bloodied and defeated by the same hand that smote her master millennia ago; that of the General Dįvįnë, Mįssħåël.
But this wasn’t to be her end.
Tįlåtħ was able to cheat the grasp of oblivion and avoid the full brunt of Mįssħåël’s death blow through a combination of her dæmöniȼ blood hekas and the timely intervention of her beloved Dåÿviåd. Together they returned to the feet of their master beaten and broken; sounding the horns of retreat. This final defeat left Lumå’įl embarrassed…for the second time.
And He was determined that there wouldn’t be a third.
Other plans of His devising were already in motion. And the world, still in recovery, was continuing to change ever so slowly to suit His desires. The minds and hearts of Men and Mer, which had been in steady decline since the division of the religions, were now fast slipping away from the Goddess in the wake of the Ten and Five Year Wars. And between the world’s festering hatred of the Magi, its fear of technological progress, and the institution of slavery, many of the Ǻngëls began to wonder if Mundus was even worth saving.
A feeling that was reflected in the few Drågons and Drågoons that remained in the world who began to retreat forever back to the ethereal plains of their own volition; unable to cope with the memories of the wars that haunted them. And one that was overtly demonstrated when the White Tree was spirited away from Zachary, down to its very roots, and lost to the hands of Man and Merkind by order of Mįssħåël himself.
But while the people lost hope in Åmbrosįå and Sånįgron, The Dįvįnë pair hadn’t completely lost hope in them.
Despite what the world would want to believe, Åmbrosįå would never turn Her back on the children She’d created. But, with things now being the way they were, in order to truly save the world from both Lumå’įl and itself, She’d require more.
More than what Her Ǻngëls, Drågons and Drågoons themselves surmised. She needed a symbol. Someone to carry Her banner given that it was against Her own natural laws to carry it Herself. Someone with the ability to unite the world against its own prejudices and form a line worthy enough to do battle against the encroaching darkness.
This wasn’t something any of her Ǻngëls, to include Mįssħåël, were capable of. The world was no longer in a state where they’d follow someone who wasn’t one of them regardless of how Dįvįnë the lineage. She needed someone who understood their lives, dreams, customs and their fears of discomfort and death. A man or woman who’d lived among them, suffered with them, believed as they believed and bled as they did. Someone who wasn’t Dįvonësë, yet who had the potential to be more than what their mortal lives dictated.
She was in need of one from among the worldly masses who was capable of guiding both their kind and Hers alike; someone who was worthy enough to receive the soul of one of Her willing Drågons and the gifts of the Dįvįnë, but who was still…for lack of a better word…flawed.
And so, through Her connection to the flow, desperate to see where the consequences of the wars’ actions would lead the world She created, Åmbrosįå waded in the waters that ran near the Tree of Life under the watchful eyes of Sånįgron, Mįssħåël, the Great Drågon Zåkÿntħos and the scribe of the Choirs, Ëkon. Here She set Herself afloat on the currents of time.
It was there that before Her eyes; eyes that saw the past, present and the whisps of many possible futures, that the Queen of Queens had a moment of opaque transcendence. A moment of prophecy.
“There’s so much I have to do.” She whispered to Herself once Her visions had subsided and She’d emerged from the drink; as the clear waters from the tree’s base dripped down Her unyielding midnight coloured locs and saturated Her dark skin. “There’s so many things I have to do. Yet, so much of it that I’m not sure I can do…”
In the days that followed, with the shadowy path to Her desired future which She’d plucked from the threads of existence grasped as tightly in Her mind as She could, and with the queenly authority She commanded with Her every word and action, She set Her Choirs about finding the key to safeguarding the world; a mortal whom She could only ever bring Herself to refer to as the “Child of Fate”.
A child with whom lay the ability to truly personify the lofty title of Drågoon, and who could shoulder the heavy burden of protecting the world and the White Tree. Someone who would take upon themselves the duty of defending the evergreen’s new hiding place on Mundus and its home in the heavens. A person with the desire and strength to bring about a lasting peace to all realms, both hither and tither, before the ongoing conflicts between Åmbrosįå’s Ǻngëls and Lumå’įl’s Fallen over the Tree of Life inadvertently brought about the end of everything…