Difference between revisions of "Nehrim:Irlandas visions"

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(updated with the official english translation from the steam version.)
 
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[[Items]] >[[ Lore Books]]
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[[Nehrim:Items|Items]] > [[Nehrim:Lore Books|Lorebooks]]
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==Irlandas Visionen==
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==Irlanda's Visions==
  
−
<div align="left">Bilder zogen an mir vorüber, ich suchte in meinem Gedächtnis nach Antworten auf die vielen Fragen, eine von ihnen war Arantheal, wer war dieser Mann?<br />Ich erblickte einen Moment aus längst vergessenen Tagen… Ein Mann, gehüllt in eine schwarze Robe, stand inmitten eines Berges aus Kadavern, die Leichen dutzender Seraphim und Götter bedeckten das Feld, der Mann selbst war hochgewachsen und wirkte gebrechlich. "So endet es nun, Irlanda" Der Mann glitt auf mich zu.<br />"Wie oft ist es nun schon so geschehen? Wie oft hast du gekämpft und verloren, wurdest wiedergeboren, während wir gesiegt haben? Willst du nicht aufgeben?"<br />Ich hörte meine Stimme, schwach und leer. "Niemals..."<br />Die Gestalt nickte, das Bild verschwand in einem Meer aus Flammen.<br />Ein neues Bild. Irlanda stand am Rand einer Klippe, Regen prasselte in Strömen herab, der Wind rauschte laut über schroffen Fels.<br />
+
Images passed before me, I searched my mind to answers to the many questions, one of them being Arantheal, who was this man? <br>
−
Ein Paladin erblickte sie und ging vor ihr auf die Knie.<br />
+
I saw a man from days long forgotten… a man in a black robe standing in the middle of a mountain of corpses, the bodies of a number of Gods and Seraphim covered the field, while the man himself was tall and looked frail. <br>
−
„Meiner Göttin zudiensten.“<br />
+
“How many times has it happened already before now? How many times have you fought and lost, and been reborn, as we have won? Why do you not give up?” <br>
−
„Du brauchst dich nicht vor mir zu verneigen, Tealor. Wie geht es dir?“<br />
+
I heard my voice, weak and empty. “Never…” <br>
−
"Wie geht es dir?" fragte Tealor und strich eine Strähne von Irlandas schwarzem Haar aus der Stirn. "Gut, solange ich bei dir bin geht es mir immer gut. Warum hast du mich rufen lassen?"<br />
+
The figure nodded and the picture vanished into a sea of flames. <br>
−
Nervös zog die Göttin Luft ein, es war natürlich alles andere als normal, wenn sie ihren treuesten Diener mitten in der Nacht an eine einsame Klippe rufen ließ. Er war immer der Beste in ihren Reihen gewesen, der treuste und weiseste Paladin… Und mehr…<br />
+
−
„Ich… Du bekommst einen Erben, Tealor...“<br />
+
−
Die grauen Augen des Paladins weiteten sich vor Entsetzen, in diesem Moment verblasste die Erinnerung wieder…<br />
+
  
−
<br />
 
−
Licht flutete die Konzilhalle. Das Konzil der Sieben war heute vollzählig, viel war in letzter Zeit geschehen. Ein stolzer Paladin kniete in der Mitte der Halle, es war Tealor Arantheal.<br />
 
−
Malphas, einer der Götter des Ostens, durchbrach die Stille.<br />
 
−
„Man munkelt, Ihr wart in den letzten Jahren sehr erfolgreich im Kampf gegen die Vorherbestimmung, Großmeister Arantheal.“<br />
 
−
„Mehr oder weniger“, räusperte sich der Paladin. „Es häufen sich die Vorfälle. Leute werden verrückt, plappern alte Prophezeiungen nach, wirken Magie… Die Vorherbestimmung hat von ihnen Besitz ergriffen. Mein Orden ist stets bemüht, die Lehren der Götter zu verbreiten und die Ketzer, die die Götter scheuen, ausfindig zu machen und zu vernichten.“<br />
 
−
„Das freut mich. Aber es stellt mich nicht zufrieden. Diese Geschehnisse müssen eine Ursache haben.“<br />
 
−
„Die Vorherbestimmung...“ lachte Tyr trocken "Sie sind von ihr und den negativen Emotionen erfasst, die wir seit Jahrtausenden unterdrücken. Hass, Gier, Neid, Zorn…“<br />
 
−
„Wie um alles in der Welt sollten die Menschen von der Vorherbestimmung des Tel Imaltath wissen, Tyr?“ fragte Malphas skeptisch.<br />
 
−
„Irgendwo muss sie existieren und gefunden worden sein. Ich kann es mir nur dadurch erklären, dass die reinigende Hand des Schöpfers, als sie die Reinigung das letzte Mal vor Äonen in unserer Welt durchführte und den damaligen Schattengott vernichtete, eine Niederschrift der Vorherbestimmung in unserer Welt platziert hat, damit sie irgendwann wieder gefunden wird.“<br />
 
−
„Ihr meint, die Botin hätte eine Niederschrift einfach so übersehen? Das ist unmöglich, Tyr. Dem Auge des Schicksals entgeht nichts, es brennt alles nieder, was dem Tel Imaltath angehört.“<br />
 
−
„Das ist völlig korrekt, verehrter Malphas. Aus diesem Grund vermute ich, dass die Botin absichtlich eine Niederschrift hinterlegt hat.“<br />
 
−
„Aber warum sollte sie…“<br />
 
−
„Das ist doch völlig offensichtlich...“ unterbrach ihn Tyr, sie hatten bereits zu viel gesagt, solche Dinge besprach man nicht in der Anwesenheit eines Sterblichen wie Tealor.<br />
 
−
“Tealor, ich will, dass ihr nach Westen segelt, nach Nehrim. Ich vermute, dass sich dort die Vorherbestimmung befindet. Findet sie und vernichtet sie, danach…“<br />
 
−
Tyr brach mitten im Satz ab, er hatte etwas gehört, das hier nicht sein sollte. „Wachen!“<br />
 
−
Dutzende bewaffnete Seraphim traten ein. Tyr deutete auf eine der Säulen, welche das Kuppeldach trugen. Einer der Weltenhüter durchquerte die Halle und trat hinter die Säule.<br />
 
−
Ein Keuchen erklang, der Seraphim zog einen Jungen hervor, der sich offensichtlich hinter der Säule versteckt hatte und lauschte. Der Junge war, wie Irlanda urteilte, noch keine zwölf Jahre alt, aber was verstand eine Göttin schon vom Alter der Sterblichen? Zeit verrann umso schneller, je mehr man davon zur Verfügung hatte…<br />
 
−
„Narathzul, was tust du hier?“ keuchte Tealor.<br />
 
−
„Ist das Euer Sohn, Tealor?“ sprach Tyr und fing an, den Jungen zu mustern, für einen kurzen Augenblick trafen sich ihre Blicke. Der Oberste aller Götter wäre töricht gewesen, hätte er nicht sofort erkannt, dass dieser Junge kein gewöhnlicher Sterblicher war, er war mehr…<br />
 
−
„Ja, natürlich, verzeiht, mein Herr, ich habe nicht gewusst, dass…“<br />
 
−
„Nicht der Rede wert,“ unterbrach ihn Tyr „Wachen, lasst ihn draußen warten!“<br />
 
−
Der junge Narathzul Arantheal folgte den Seraphim nach draußen, ohne auch nur ein Wort zu verlieren. Als die Tür ins Schloss fiel wandte sich Tyr wieder dem Paladin zu.<br />
 
−
"Ihr wart schon immer einer der wenigen sterblichen Diener, die im Laufe ihrer Dienstzeit nicht dazu verleitet wurden, Dummheiten zu begehen, Tealor. Aber wie sieht es da mit Eurem Sohn aus? Er hat soeben Dinge gehört, die nicht für Kinderohren geeignet sind. Nein, eigentlich nicht einmal für die Ohren eines Sterblichen."<br />
 
−
„Verzeiht Herr, er ist mein Sohn, er wird nicht auf den Gedanken kommen, Dummheiten zu begehen, ich bürge für ihn.“<br />
 
−
„Ich hoffe es. Einerlei, bevor die Vorherbestimmung weiter in die Welt sickert, solltet Ihr aufbrechen. Tealor, findet die Schrift und vernichtet sie, genau wie all die Fanatiker, die ihr Glauben schenken. Lebt wohl.“<br />
 
−
Mit einer tiefen Verbeugung verabschiedete sich der Paladin.<br />
 
  
−
<br />
+
A new image. Irlanda stood at the edge of a cliff, rain pelted down in torrents, wind gusted loudly over the steep cliffs. <br>
−
Die Realität kehrte zurück. Eiskalter Wind peitschte mir, der einst so stolzen Göttin, entgegen.<br />
+
A paladin saw and went down on his knees. <br>
−
Mit Tränen getrübten Augen blickte ich auf die regenverhangene Küste Inodans.<br />
+
“I am yours, my Goddess.” <br>
−
In einem schier endlosen Reigen tanzten Bilder wie Blätter im Wind vor meinen Augen auf. Egal wohin ich sah, so versuchten sie doch meine Aufmerksamkeit zu erlangen und sich meiner zu bemächtigen. Immer enger und enger zog sich der Wirbel der Bilder um mich.<br />
+
“You need not bow before me, Tealor. How are you?” <br>
−
Die Last meiner eigenen Erinnerung schien mich zu erdrücken… Oder genauer gesagt, meiner eigenen Fehler.<br />
+
“How are you?” Tealor asked, brushing a strand of Irlanda’s black hair from her forehead, “Well, so long as I am with you it is always good for me. Why did you call me?” <br>
−
Eine Krähe hatte vor einigen Stunden eine Nachricht überbracht. Erst durch den Inhalt dieser Nachricht wurde mir alles klar… Arantheal war mein eigener Sohn. Das Merkwürdige war jedoch, dass der Brief das Siegel der Seraphim trug. Wie in aller Welt war dies möglich? Xarmonar lag in Trümmern und Arkt, der der Stadt gegen ihren Befehl verteidigt hatte und dabei unzählige Unschuldige richtete, war seitdem nicht mehr gesehen worden. Vielleicht stammt die anonyme Nachricht ja von ihm? Egal was Tyr sagt, ich kann nicht die Hände in den Schoß legen und alles weitere einfach so geschehen lassen...<br />
+
The Goddess cautiously sniffed the air, of course it was anything but normal when she summoned her most loyal servants in the middle of the night to a lonely cliff. He had always been the best in the ranks, the wisest and most faithful paladin… and more… <br>
 +
“I… you have an heir, Tealor…” <br>
 +
The paladin’s gray eyes widened in horror, and at this moment, the memory faded again…
  
−
==Irlandas visions - translation==
 
  
−
Images passed before me, I searched my memory for answers to many questions, one of them was Arantheal, who was this man?<br />I saw a moment of long-forgotten days ... A man wrapped in a black robe stood in the middle of a mountain of corpses, the bodies of dozens of gods and seraphim covered the field, the man himself was tall and looked frail. "So it ends now, Irlanda" The man slid toward me."How often it is now already done so? How many times have you fought and lost, was reborn, as we have won? Give up Do not you want?" I heard my voice, weak and empty. "Never ..." &nbsp
+
Light flooded the council hall. Seven of the councilors had now arrived, and much had happened recently. A proud paladin knelt in the middle of the hall, it was Tealor Arantheal. Malphas, one of the eastern Gods, broke the silence. <br>
−
The figure nodded, the picture disappeared into a sea of flames.
+
“Rumor has it you were very successful in the previous years in your fight against Predestination, Grandmaster Arantheal.” <br>
 +
“More or less,” the paladin cleared his throat. “There are a growing number of incidents. People are mad, babbling about ancient prophecies, working magic… Predestination has taken hold of them. My Order is always ready to spread the teachings of the Gods, and to seek out and destroy those heretics who might fear them.” <br>
 +
“I am pleased. But it does not satisfy me. These events must have a cause. The heretics who fear the Gods and wish them destroyed continue to spread.” <br>
 +
“Predestination…” Tyr laughed dryly, “They are her worst emotions in the flesh, that which we have suppressed for centuries. Hatred, greed, envy, anger…” <br>
 +
“How in the world would people know of the fate of the Tel Imaltath, Tyr?” Malphas asked skeptically. <br>
 +
“Somewhere, they must exist and they have been found. I can only explain that by the clean hands of the creator, as the cleansing was performed, the previous Shadow God tried to destroy a transcript of the Predestination aeons ago, so eventually, it could be found again." <br>
 +
“You mean, the messenger would have overlooked a transcript like this? That’s impossible, Tyr, nothing escapes the eyes of fate, it’s burning down everything that belongs to the Tel Imaltath.” <br>
 +
“That is absolutely correct, dear Malphas. For this reason, I suspect a messenger has deliberately filed a transcript.” <br>
 +
“But why should they…” <br>
 +
“It’s completely obvious…” Tyr interrupted, he already said too much, such things are not discussed in the presence of mortals like Tealor. <br>
 +
“Tealor, I want you to sail west for Nehrim. I suspect you will find the Predestination there. Find them and destroy them, then…” <br>
 +
Tyr stopped before he could finish, he had heard something that did not seem right. “Guards!” <br>
 +
Dozens of armed Seraphim entered. Tyr pointed to one of the pillars that supported the domed roof. One of the guardians of the world crossed the hall and stepped behind the pillar. <br>
 +
A gasp was heard, the Seraphim removed a boy that had apparently been hiding behind the pillar and listening. The boy was, as Irlanda could judge, not even twelve years old, but what could a Goddess know of the age of mortals? Time for them passed more quickly than they had available to them… <br>
 +
“Narathzul, what are you doing here?” Tealor gasped. <br>
 +
“Is that your son, Tealor?” Tyr spoke, his eyes meeting the boy’s for a brief moment. To think that all Gods were supreme was foolish, but this boy was no ordinary mortal, he was more… <br>
 +
“Yes, of course, I crave your pardon, sir, I did not know that…” <br>
 +
“Not worth mentioning,” Tyr interrupted, “Guards, let him wait outside!” <br>
 +
The young Narathzul Arantheal followed the seraphim outside, not letting go of a single spoken word as he left. As the door was shut, Tyr turned back to the paladin. <br>
 +
“You were always one of the few mortals who was never tempted to commit stupidities in the course of their service, Tealor. But what about your son out there? He has just heard things not suitable for a child’s ears. No, not even for the ears of mortals.” <br>
 +
“Excuse me, sir, he is my son, he would never commit such stupidities, I can vouch for him.” <br>
 +
“I hope so. All the same, predetermination continues to seep into the world, and might break you open. Tealor, find the writings and destroy them, just like we did the fanatics from which they receive their faith. Goodbye.” <br>
 +
With a low bow, the paladin said goodbye. <br>
  
−
A new image. Irlanda stood at the edge of a cliff, rain pelted down in torrents, the wind roared loudly of sheer rock.<br />
 
−
A paladin saw it went before her and to her knees.<br />
 
−
"Zudiensten my goddess."<br />
 
−
"You do not have to bow before me, Tealor. How are you? "<br />
 
−
"How are you?" asked Tealor and brushed a strand of black hair from his forehead Irlandas. "Well, as long as I'm with you I am always good. Why did you call me?"<br />
 
−
Nervously sniffed the air goddess, of course it was anything but normal when she summoned her most loyal servants in the middle of the night on a lonely cliff. He was always the best in their ranks have been the wisest and most faithful paladin ... and more ...<br />
 
−
"I ... You get an heir, Tealor ..."<br />
 
−
The gray eyes widened in horror, the paladin, in this moment, the memory faded away again ...
 
  
−
Light flooded the council hall. The Council of Seven was now complete, much had happened lately. A proud Paladin knelt in the middle of the hall, it was Tealor Arantheal.<br />
+
The reality returned. Ice cold wind whipped against me, against a once proud Goddess. <br>
−
Malphas, one of the gods of the East, broke through the silence.<br />
+
With tears clouding my eyes, I looked across the rain-shrouded coast of Inodan. <br>
−
"Rumor has it you were in the last years very successful in the fight against predestination, Grandmaster Arantheal."<br />
+
In a seemingly endless cycle, images such as leaves dancing in the wind flashed before my eyes. No matter where I looked, again and again they tried to possess me. Closer and closer the vortex of pictures moved. <br>
−
"More or less," the paladin cleared his throat. "There are piling up the incidents. People are crazy parrot old prophecies, magic act ... The predestination has taken possession of them. My order is always ready to spread the teachings of the Gods and the heretics who shun the gods, to locate and destroy. "
+
The weight of my own memories seemed to overwhelm me… or rather, my own faults. <br>
−
 
+
A crow had conveyed a message a few hours ago. Only by the contents of this message was all made clear to me… Arantheal was my own son. The strange thing is that the letter bore the seal of the Seraphim. How is that possible? Xarmonar lay in ruins and Arkt, who as had been told by the innocents countless times had defended the city, has not been seen since. Perhaps this anonymous message is from him? No matter what it says, Tyr, I cannot just put my hands upon your lap and let everything just happen…
−
"I am pleased. But it does not satisfy me. These events must have a cause. "<br />
+
−
"The predestination ..." laughed Tyr dry "They are of her and the negative emotions captured, which we suppress for centuries. Hatred, greed, envy, anger ..."<br />
+
−
"How in the world, people should know about the predestination of the Tel Imaltath, Tyr?" Malphas asked skeptically.<br />
+
−
"Somewhere it must exist and have been found. I can think only explained by the fact that the clean hands of the Creator, as they carried out the cleaning, the last time eons ago in our world and the then shadow of God destroyed a transcript of predestination has placed in our world so that they will one day find again .<br />
+
−
"You mean, the messenger had overlooked a transcript just like that? This is impossible, Tyr. Nothing escapes the eye of fate, it's burning down everything that belongs to the Tel Imaltath. "<br />
+
−
"That is absolutely correct, dear Malphas. For this reason, I suspect that the messenger has deliberately deposited a transcript. "<br />
+
−
"But why should ..."<br />
+
−
"This is completely obvious ..." interrupted Tyr, they had already said too much, things like not discussing it in the presence of a mortal like Tealor.<br />
+
−
"Tealor, I want you to sail to the west, after Nehrim. I suspect that there is predestination. Find them and destroy them, then ... "<br />
+
−
Tyr broke mid-sentence, he had heard something that should not be here. "Guards!"<br />
+
−
Dozens of armed Seraphim entered. Tyr pointed to one of the pillars which supported the dome roof. One of the guardians of the world crossed the hall and stepped behind the column.<br />
+
−
A gasp was heard, the seraphim took out a boy who had apparently been hiding behind the pillar and listened. The boy was, as judged Irlanda, no twelve, but what a goddess knew right from the age of mortals? Time was passing more quickly, the more you had available ...<br />
+
−
"Narathzul what are you doing here?" Gasped Tealor.<br />
+
−
"Is that your son, Tealor?" Said Tyr and began to survey the boys, for a brief moment their eyes met. The Board of Governors of all the gods would have been foolish, he would have recognized immediately that this boy was no ordinary mortal, he was more ...<br />
+
−
"Yes, of course, pardon, sir, I did not know that ..."<br />
+
−
"Do not mention," interrupted Tyr "Guards, let him wait outside!"<br />
+
−
The young Narathzul Arantheal followed the Seraphim to the outside, without even a word. As the door slammed shut in Tyr turned back to the Paladin.<br />
+
−
"You were always one of the few mortal servants who were not in the course of their service enticed to commit, stupid, Tealor. But what about there, with your son?" He has just heard things that are not suitable for children's ears. No, not really one for the ears of mortals. "<br />
+
−
"Excuse me sir, he is my son, he will not get the idea to commit stupidities, I can vouch for him."<br />
+
−
"I hope so. No matter before the predetermination of the world should continue to seep in, start your. Tealor place, the writing and destroyed them, just like all the fanatics who give their faith. Goodbye.
+
−
 
+
−
With a low bow, took leave of the Paladin.
+
−
 
+
−
The reality came back. Ice-cold wind was whipping, the once-proud goddess contrary.<br />
+
−
With tears clouded my eyes, I looked at the rain-shrouded coast Inodans.<br />
+
−
In a seemingly endless round images such as leaves dancing in the wind before my eyes. No matter where I looked, they still tried to get my attention and to take possession of me. Closer and closer to the vortex of the pictures moved me.
+
−
 
+
−
The burden of my own memory seemed to crush me ... Or more accurately, my own mistakes.<br />
+
−
A crow had brought a few hours ago a message. Only by the contents of this message to me was all clear ... Arantheal was my own son. The strange thing was that the letter bore the seal of the Seraphim. How on earth was this possible? Xarmonar lay in ruins and enhanced, who defended the city against their command and it taught countless innocent people, was not been seen since. Perhaps the anonymous message is indeed from him? No matter what is said Tyr, I can not put your hands in your lap and let everything else just happened so ...
+
−
 
+
−
==Notes==
+
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Translated with [http://translate.google.com Google Translate] .
+
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</div>
+
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[[Category:Books]]
+

Latest revision as of 01:32, 26 February 2023

Items > Lorebooks

Irlanda's Visions

Images passed before me, I searched my mind to answers to the many questions, one of them being Arantheal, who was this man?
I saw a man from days long forgotten… a man in a black robe standing in the middle of a mountain of corpses, the bodies of a number of Gods and Seraphim covered the field, while the man himself was tall and looked frail.
“How many times has it happened already before now? How many times have you fought and lost, and been reborn, as we have won? Why do you not give up?”
I heard my voice, weak and empty. “Never…”
The figure nodded and the picture vanished into a sea of flames.


A new image. Irlanda stood at the edge of a cliff, rain pelted down in torrents, wind gusted loudly over the steep cliffs.
A paladin saw and went down on his knees.
“I am yours, my Goddess.”
“You need not bow before me, Tealor. How are you?”
“How are you?” Tealor asked, brushing a strand of Irlanda’s black hair from her forehead, “Well, so long as I am with you it is always good for me. Why did you call me?”
The Goddess cautiously sniffed the air, of course it was anything but normal when she summoned her most loyal servants in the middle of the night to a lonely cliff. He had always been the best in the ranks, the wisest and most faithful paladin… and more…
“I… you have an heir, Tealor…”
The paladin’s gray eyes widened in horror, and at this moment, the memory faded again…


Light flooded the council hall. Seven of the councilors had now arrived, and much had happened recently. A proud paladin knelt in the middle of the hall, it was Tealor Arantheal. Malphas, one of the eastern Gods, broke the silence.
“Rumor has it you were very successful in the previous years in your fight against Predestination, Grandmaster Arantheal.”
“More or less,” the paladin cleared his throat. “There are a growing number of incidents. People are mad, babbling about ancient prophecies, working magic… Predestination has taken hold of them. My Order is always ready to spread the teachings of the Gods, and to seek out and destroy those heretics who might fear them.”
“I am pleased. But it does not satisfy me. These events must have a cause. The heretics who fear the Gods and wish them destroyed continue to spread.”
“Predestination…” Tyr laughed dryly, “They are her worst emotions in the flesh, that which we have suppressed for centuries. Hatred, greed, envy, anger…”
“How in the world would people know of the fate of the Tel Imaltath, Tyr?” Malphas asked skeptically.
“Somewhere, they must exist and they have been found. I can only explain that by the clean hands of the creator, as the cleansing was performed, the previous Shadow God tried to destroy a transcript of the Predestination aeons ago, so eventually, it could be found again."
“You mean, the messenger would have overlooked a transcript like this? That’s impossible, Tyr, nothing escapes the eyes of fate, it’s burning down everything that belongs to the Tel Imaltath.”
“That is absolutely correct, dear Malphas. For this reason, I suspect a messenger has deliberately filed a transcript.”
“But why should they…”
“It’s completely obvious…” Tyr interrupted, he already said too much, such things are not discussed in the presence of mortals like Tealor.
“Tealor, I want you to sail west for Nehrim. I suspect you will find the Predestination there. Find them and destroy them, then…”
Tyr stopped before he could finish, he had heard something that did not seem right. “Guards!”
Dozens of armed Seraphim entered. Tyr pointed to one of the pillars that supported the domed roof. One of the guardians of the world crossed the hall and stepped behind the pillar.
A gasp was heard, the Seraphim removed a boy that had apparently been hiding behind the pillar and listening. The boy was, as Irlanda could judge, not even twelve years old, but what could a Goddess know of the age of mortals? Time for them passed more quickly than they had available to them…
“Narathzul, what are you doing here?” Tealor gasped.
“Is that your son, Tealor?” Tyr spoke, his eyes meeting the boy’s for a brief moment. To think that all Gods were supreme was foolish, but this boy was no ordinary mortal, he was more…
“Yes, of course, I crave your pardon, sir, I did not know that…”
“Not worth mentioning,” Tyr interrupted, “Guards, let him wait outside!”
The young Narathzul Arantheal followed the seraphim outside, not letting go of a single spoken word as he left. As the door was shut, Tyr turned back to the paladin.
“You were always one of the few mortals who was never tempted to commit stupidities in the course of their service, Tealor. But what about your son out there? He has just heard things not suitable for a child’s ears. No, not even for the ears of mortals.”
“Excuse me, sir, he is my son, he would never commit such stupidities, I can vouch for him.”
“I hope so. All the same, predetermination continues to seep into the world, and might break you open. Tealor, find the writings and destroy them, just like we did the fanatics from which they receive their faith. Goodbye.”
With a low bow, the paladin said goodbye.


The reality returned. Ice cold wind whipped against me, against a once proud Goddess.
With tears clouding my eyes, I looked across the rain-shrouded coast of Inodan.
In a seemingly endless cycle, images such as leaves dancing in the wind flashed before my eyes. No matter where I looked, again and again they tried to possess me. Closer and closer the vortex of pictures moved.
The weight of my own memories seemed to overwhelm me… or rather, my own faults.
A crow had conveyed a message a few hours ago. Only by the contents of this message was all made clear to me… Arantheal was my own son. The strange thing is that the letter bore the seal of the Seraphim. How is that possible? Xarmonar lay in ruins and Arkt, who as had been told by the innocents countless times had defended the city, has not been seen since. Perhaps this anonymous message is from him? No matter what it says, Tyr, I cannot just put my hands upon your lap and let everything just happen…

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