A life for a life.

A daemon queen slain, a soothsayer lost.

When I saw him raise his sword against the conversion crystal, I knew he was conscious of the the consequence of his great undertaking. Before we left the Emissary Hall that eve, before his uplifting speech before the gathered citizens of Britannia, he rested his arm upon my shoulder and looked into my eyes. His eyes were veiled, his soul was closed to me. “Keep watch, old friend,” he said, putting on his helmet.  I now recognize the look in his eyes that had perplexed me then. It was the look of a man who had made peace with death. A man who had foreseen his own fate.

I fear that I cannot offer him recompense for his great sacrifice. I can only look to the sky and fulfill his request. We have repaired the crystal and purified its contents, allowing no more evil to befall it. We will return it to its rightful place in Aegis.

I am offering a memorial service for Lord Owain Surrey, who has fallen in the most consequential battle of our time. We will see him put to rest, a rest he could never find in life, plagued by dreams.

When I close my eyes, I see him on top of a weathered hill, sitting peacefully, embraced in the arms of his wife and daughter.

Meet at the Castle British Throne Room, 7 p.m. EST 2/24/11


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