Note location: In the Archives and in Gaze; at the Gate; in the Moss King's home Number available: Few Conditions to receive from Iskierka: Most likely to award to anyone Illarion's discussed his past with
I think we--my Prince and his inner Court--all felt we were failing each other, after those first nightmarish hectic years. We rebuilt ourselves to survive what the pillar did to us and to survive how the world saw us. We enacted our great plan to eradicate war through making it unthinkable to wage; we perfected our contracts and spy networks and the veil of secrecy--and our justifications and dissimulations and diversions. We accomplished so much and did so much and couldn't make up for the great moral wound we tore in ourselves.
We knew something was wrong. We still sent our sons and daughters off to war but now there were enough of them it wasn't grinding us to extinction. We said if there were any other way aloud and looked at each other with eyes pleading for the other way we all knew must be there and none of us could voice it.
It was easy, having lived it, to believe the propaganda: That something in us had broken past repairing, that we were monsters past redeeming or reasoning with.
My Prince never believed that. He never gave up on us. He would have outlived us all and never given up though his heart broke.
But I think he still felt he'd failed us even up to his death. He could not solve the flaw in our natures any more than we could solve the flaw in the world that led to all war.
TARGET | Prince of Preservation (Evdokim) - 2O
Number available: Few
Conditions to receive from Iskierka: Most likely to award to anyone Illarion's discussed his past with
I think we--my Prince and his inner Court--all felt we were failing each other, after those first nightmarish hectic years. We rebuilt ourselves to survive what the pillar did to us and to survive how the world saw us. We enacted our great plan to eradicate war through making it unthinkable to wage; we perfected our contracts and spy networks and the veil of secrecy--and our justifications and dissimulations and diversions. We accomplished so much and did so much and couldn't make up for the great moral wound we tore in ourselves.
We knew something was wrong. We still sent our sons and daughters off to war but now there were enough of them it wasn't grinding us to extinction. We said if there were any other way aloud and looked at each other with eyes pleading for the other way we all knew must be there and none of us could voice it.
It was easy, having lived it, to believe the propaganda: That something in us had broken past repairing, that we were monsters past redeeming or reasoning with.
My Prince never believed that. He never gave up on us. He would have outlived us all and never given up though his heart broke.
But I think he still felt he'd failed us even up to his death. He could not solve the flaw in our natures any more than we could solve the flaw in the world that led to all war.