Death and gods.

[Royal Blood]

I take the skull into my hand, my soft warm fingers brushing against the coarse bone of the skull. It is still stained with blood. Twice as gruesome are the black patches where flesh had been burned away but linger still as a stain. It's gut wrenching to look at, I want to throw it away but I cannot. It is my order that did this and I refuse to hide away from the reality of the consequence and the death I caused.

I raise the skull in the palm of my hand until we are looking at each other eye to eye socket. I imagine the eyes that were once in this skull. The life that once inhabited the body. The thought makes my stomach twist and sends an ache through me.

As I stare at the skull and my sympathetic heart mourns a quieter voice within my mind steels me and says “How many would rejoice in your demise? How many want -your head- “ I swallow nervously while staring at the empty eye sockets imagining it being me.

I can see my body, limp and lifeless. How greatly my enemies would rejoice for they know not what they do nor do they pay proper gravity to the weight of destruction they would cause. In all truth I despise the way of the blade and this desecration of life. I despise it because I know it could be me or someone I love and I fear I am not strong enough to stop it.

With another swallow at the rock now rooted in my throat I realize I was holding my breath. I release it and dismiss the gruesome images in my mind and lower the skull looking to the courier of death.

I offer her a warm smile “Thank you” I say simply. And I am thankful. An enemy of my people has been felled. Many believe that fear is evil, but it is not, not always. Many would say we must love everyone, love drow love Kobolds love beasts and monsters but they are delusional idealist.

None of these lovers bares the weight of true leadership. None of them has seen their kin that they are responsible for dead at their feet. If there are not ones like me to enforce justice then love means nothing. If there is no line drawn in the sand, if there's no border no consequence for evil, then what is love at all?

In the midsts of my thoughts I turn from my courier and spot a pair of kin. They walk by with wide smiles and jovial laughs as they talk. Seeing me they both bow and I dip my head to the in return. I feel a smile touch my lips and a swell of joy in my heart. Then I see my kin’s eyes as they spot the skull in my palm. They wince and quickly move off.

I watch them go with a crease of my eyebrows and move to put the gruesome thing away. Their soft hearts do not understand what it takes to keep them safe. For them I would sooner bathe in blood then have a single drop of theirs spilled. I sigh.

I move off then, strolling through the city of Myon until I reach the temple area. There stands altars to the pantheon of our gods, the Seldarine. I am starting to understand what a Coronal’s purpose is.

The purpose of a Coronal is to act as a conduit, a bridge, between all of these gods and their followers. In Myon there are the lethal but solemn and vengeful followers of Shevarash. Many of our kin do not understand them, but I do, my lover was one of them.

Then there are the followers of the the other gods, each one brings in a different perspective. On their own, these gods ideals are narrow and give only part of a greater picture. Each one is important but they are best when used as a group. Compassion paired with vengeance. Love paired with hate, joy paired with sorrow. All of these are important and as Coronal I must find a way to balance them.

[Royal Blood]

With a steely gaze I look down across the broken figure before me. My chin raises imperialistically as a thin, content, smirk spreads on my lips. I told her I would find her first. My would be assassin, she isn't the first to try and she isn't the first to fail. I am arriving in an enclosed desert fortress. The sun peaks over the walls as it falls behind the high desert dunes. There's a slight haze in the air from boots scuffling across the sand, kicking it into the air. Through the haze, I see who I came for.

Now that the smoke's gone and the air is all clear. Those who were right there got a new kind of fear.

I slide off my horse, my leather boots thumping softly against the ground as I approach. The warm dry air blows the sandy haze sending the grainy bits pattering against armor and walls. I notice a second victim is dragged out at the same time, a betrayer, arguably worse than the assassin. There are others here too, those that tried to stop us from taking what was rightfully ours. Those that sought to waylay Myon's justice. But they are nothing now but voices barking threats in anger. But what is a threat when I am the victor? Let them prattle, they cannot touch me.

With a wicked smirk I move to stand before the assassin, coming to look her in the eyes.

You'd fight and you were right but they were just too strong they'd stick it in your face and let you smell what they consider wrong.

Balance. Balance. Balance. My mind screams at me in protest to the anger I feel swelling in my heart. I consider the lives of those here, those that are different from me. But I remember it Is they who sought my blood first. And with that consideration, all sympathy is erased.

My smirk retains it self as I speak...

That's why I say hey, nice shot What a good shot man.I wish I would have met you. I'd say Nice shot

By the end of it, the desert sun is but a small gleam setting over the horizon as darkness fills. I am mounting my horse. Combat has broken out around me but we have the situation well under control. I urge my horse into a trot, leaving behind the carnage as yet more blood is shed.

Myon will have her vengeance. The Seldarine's will shall not be ignored.

I wish I would've met you, now it's a little late. What you could've taught me... I could have saved some face

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEqs5MtV7Iw