Legion

The cycles of despair continue through me, and I bear that burden with the foresight I possess through new eyes. Eyes unclouded by hatred, that turn away from that which formed the foundation of the Red Magister. The necessary evil, may have his rest. That is but one life, one chain in a series of links. This one shall be put to better use, as I examine the disorder of clashing realities, and afford only moderate intervention… For a much greater threat looms on the horizon; One foretold of in teachings ignored and history plundered without regard. Anetho Dawnpride walked the shattered isles, and traversed the long halls of Suramar… The very same that Gul’dan himself sought when he emerged in Azeroth. There was purpose, and if the shadow creeping behind me forming violent eyes is any indication, so too is there renewed purpose in this cycle of despair. One I accept, and intend to shoulder, with the many mistakes of three lives upon my heart to guide me forward into a new day. One cast in brimstone, rather than iron.”

 

It has been very nearly two years since my fore bearer, Anetho Luem’Ray Dawnpride, had perished. A legacy of betrayals, mockery, vengeance and utterly damning actions surrounded in lies and rumor based upon words of the ill informed, and dull of thought. He was a terribly cruel man, to be certain, but indisputably intelligent… His failing however, was the result of egotism and callousness. He had succumbed to the hatred that no longer had purpose, and cast the embers of his once raging inferno unto the collective beings of the world.

Even now, I am left to ponder had he not been afflicted with such a horrid handicap, would he yet have a purpose to the world? Would he be a valuable piece upon the board that forms our great game? No. His was the role of ferocity and conviction. Impulse and greed. Tragedy. This Harbinger of Despair has indeed run it’s course, and with teachings borrowed of his own earliest painful cries of life, and the Tome of Whispering Knowledge he has inadvertently given purpose to a new form.

His knowledge is my own. His power. His memories… and with them, all that he had accomplished; This form however, has given something he did not possess. Patience. Even now I silently watch from afar, in this yet vestal form, awaiting the first sin that must be cast in the name of such ‘Greater Good’ that must surely reign above. Long did he predict the coming fires… even as he made pilgrimage to it’s heart. Even now, I am filled with his smug satisfaction as the hellish energies coalesce and grow, the fires spurred to greater intensity through unseen forces as long had he predicted.

The Harbinger of Despair is a mantle easily dismissed, for it has no place in the modern world… Let the memory fade and give way to this generation’s guardian. Let it sit forever in the minds of those affected, and pass easily thereafter… For we’ve no need of such Harbingers. This form is born of sin and therefor might do little else. It shall drink of the blood, and burn of the same fires that Anetho had forced to heel. It shall not stand above nor below the collective it is meant to safeguard, but ever beside… and though cruelty may be familiar, it shall be of heart that it draws purpose. This solitary reflection upon past lives and magic must needs come to it’s inevitable close, for the Legion cometh… and this time, none shall be spared the flame.

Come now, ye heroes. Rise and fulfill your destined part. As with the Martyr Magister, shall we all find ourselves in the coming fire… For through flame or water, we must all be baptized.

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~ by anethodawnpride on July 27, 2016.

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