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Good-bye
Journal 16 of the Heralds Of The Dawn.
"As the flower grows and one-day blooms it must one-day die. It is the way of nature, of all life. To deny this is to deny that for all that dies, something new will take its place. The cycle lives on. The difference however, between the flower and I is that in the time between birth and death, the time of life, is that I may choose my cycle. I may choose my destiny. Everyone either chooses their own destiny or allows for someone else to choose it for them. The key to this is that we must choose our own lives, our own paths. If we fail to do this than what is the reason for living. For better or for worse we choose our respective paths and though the flower is a beautiful part of the cycle, would you truly be happy choosing the path of the flower."

- Elder Hiram of the Dark Oak Grove.

Through the last several days in this place, somewhere far beneath the earth, I have been able to contemplate my fate in all of this. Just a few weeks ago I was just a woodsman who kept pretty much to himself. Sure I did errands for the resistance, but it was never anything more than that. I didn’t want to believe in all of those things that I felt about the church. All of the things I saw people put up with and actually support. I reasoned it out that there must be a reason for all of it that I didn’t understand. Something beyond me, something that wasn’t and shouldn’t be my concern because I kept myself away from the people. The church didn’t care about me, and I didn’t care about it. Not really. I only did the things I did for the resistance because Hiram asked it of me. He helped me so many times that I felt it was my duty as a friend to help him, never really asking questions. It was his fight, not mine. But that’s all changed now.

Now I’m the heir to a throne, a king if I were to listen to Varian. The church of Aesia apparently does care of my existence and has been taking tabs of me for some time. My companions want nothing to do with me, don’t care for me. I’ve been thrown into a situation in which the fate of the world hangs in the balance. No one seems to care enough to put aside their differences, outside of a very few, but even they seem to bicker. I hate to say it, but what everyone needs is a decisive leader, someone whom can quell these arguments, help people to set aside their differences and give them focus toward some sort of goal. I need that leader. Apparently, as fate would have it, I need to be that leader.

I know Jerick isn’t, he doesn’t have the facilities to handle the pressure as we have seen in the last several weeks. I can see him coming closer to snapping every day. I’d help him but the ones we travel with have no respect for me, though I suppose maybe I’ve given them no reason to. Either way, someone needs to take more of a stand. I’ll do my best to give Jerick the support he needs, though part of me wants to hate him right now. Not for who he is or anything he’s said, but because of he failed to point out the important details and treat them with the respect they deserve. I’d like to believe that he’s having a harder time of all of this than I am, but he sure doesn’t show it. I will say this, I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if Hiram hadn’t asked me to be here. But now that Jerick has, so flatly, told me that Hiram is dead, I don’t know why I’m here, if I should be here or if I even want to be here. He was my friend. He was a good leader, though he wouldn’t admit to it. Now I’m left to wonder if I should run from it all or carry out as Hiram would have wanted. Either way. Something has to change and it mine-as-well be me.

From the journal of Aldaric Verdain

Contributor: Drew Butler