Knights of Tezoth

on the eve


The gloomy coolness of the family crypt always carried thoughts down a distant channel. The silence surrounding the measured slumber of the departed made one feel the meekness of one's own breath and the insignificance of all human existence.
— Praise be to the light, you cannot behold any of this, father. — She laid freshly gathered flowers at Alsira's tombstone. — And if the goddess has taken your soul, may the intricacies of reality not trouble you.
The usual ritual was bestowed upon her brother and mother. If only she had never been born into this world, mother would still be alive. Then brother would not have volunteered for the front against Deus and returned a cripple. Father would not have been struck down by grief and longing. And even now, seized by loss, they might have joined forces to overcome the hardships of cruel fate. But instead they rested, by the evil will of her being.

The usual morning quest did not ordinarily take much of her mind and time, but today the girl lingered longer in the stone depths of the oak grove. In vain did she try to find in the depths of her soul the bitterness of tears, the weight of sorrow, or the sweetness of despair. As always, her consciousness seemed to shrug indifferently: "Life is a sequence of chaos and suffering, I've seen plenty of it, little sister. It will devour everyone and then you too, nothing new or interesting."

Drawing forth the broken sword, Alsira gazed into the clouded reflection of the blade. The answering stare of a pair of scarlet eyes expressed nothing but a burned-out thousand-year torment. What had not been felt so keenly in childhood now enveloped her worldview more and more with each passing day.
Pressing the cold to her lips, she then raised the grim steel to her forehead:

"Father advised me to turn to you often, as he himself did at the head of the family. I, however, never troubled you with words. Phrases devoid of true faith seemed to me hypocrisy. I was never fortunate enough to find the conviction of light in my heart, and it is naive to think it will happen hereafter. Your rays have always burned me, marking me unworthy for sins unknown. And so, from the heights of the heavens, you are unlikely to find any interest in hearing or seeing me."
"The chronicles tell that in ancient times you appeared to lost and destitute novices. I do not mean myself. Can a life-spoiled aristocrat even be counted among such a number?.. But if this destruction was subject to the divine design, I ask only that you grant peace to those innocents who may still be able to rise toward the light. Not every being should end its posthumous state in monstrous, misshapen form."
"And if this treachery is steeped in nature itself, then carry out retribution through the hands of the last of the faithful. It is not fitting for madness to encroach upon the world. Great is the shadow's reach over the world, but even it cannot dance without the sun. And so, when the long-awaited hour strikes, let the finger of fate not delay its action. For the enemy's blade knows no mercy in waiting."

He who is born in peacetime will surely live to see war. He who finds his birth amid strife will perish before the coming of good times. He who gains immortality will end in the torments of eternal suffering. And he who parts with existence in the cycle of rebirth will come to know agony. And even he who attains divinity will one day be cast down from the heavens by other ambitions. There is no way out.
— Forgive me if my future decisions forever stain the honor of the dynasty, father.


well now we can finally get to the current day