RECKLESS ABANDON

[Rig 17591]

 

The coniferous trees were steep with rainwater, the scent of pine needles and smoke palpable to the Knight as he contemplated the arduous task that lay before him. He pondered his conversation with Sir Edmond of the Blackwald days earlier and the worries shared to him by other members of the Circle of the Eagle. The words of his cousin Leonid Vilacz rang true in his ears still, though he did not know the man. He considered that letter he had received, remembering the five minutes he spent standing at the top of his tower, reading the unfurled scroll between his fingers, the letter bearing a waxen seal of a two-headed crow etched in crimson ink.

 

Blood is blood and blood runs deep. Steep is the blood that binds us, even steeper still the blood our ancestors spilled for us to be here. Be amongst your own kind.

Your kinsman, Leonid

 

Sir Paul Montalt saddled his horse and then grasped it by the reins, the gallant steed steered along to cross down the cobbled worn path down the hills of the lands that were once Mardon. Renilde I, Archduchess of the Commonwealth of the Petra, could see a sword planted in the hallowed ground of her garden before the Ducal Seat in Downtown.

 

Before long, the figure departed and crossed the threshold leaving into town, flinging his wrists forwards with the soft clack of his horse's reigns as he galloped off into the distance as night befell him.

 

---

 

To Renilde Temesch Et Moere, 

 

Dear child, you have not had it easy in recent years. Yet, I have watched you grow from a calm young girl into the leader of a vast nation. It is my greatest regret that I could not train you in the use of the blade. Your studies however made that impossible. With the death of your father, I remained to ensure you stayed alive. I would take that arrow for you again, and again, and again to ensure your continued safety.

 

I now have a higher calling. In going to Petra, I sought to prove to myself that I could be a Knight, as I intended to be while training under Sir Gustaf de Vilain, the Baron of Acre, may God rest his soul. However, I came to understand my late mentor’s impulses – the desire for Revolution, it burns deep within the recesses of my soul. I seek a world without kings, a world without queens, a world without lords.

 

A world where war is all but gone, and the only true war is class conflict. This dream is a great lie, a fiction, yet the impulse carries sway in my heart all the same. Were I to remain, I might find myself your enemy, and I desire to end the cycle of violence. Once, I was a bastard by the name of Barrow, and my cousin was the Bastard of Reutov. Together, we toppled the Empire, and slew the Emperor. I killed Lord Carrion’s son and I do not regret it for an instant. Meeting a kindred soul such as the late Sir Mareno was gracious for me. Upon his demise, it reminded me of the madness that motivates men, and not too long ago after this, disaster destroyed my home in Petra. It reaffirmed what I have always been thinking, that the bureaucratic core of the Petran Regime was all but a sham and systems that divide men only serve to drive them mad. It is fated to be so, that I am to saddle my charger now and carry myself to join the other Raevir. My negative impulses would have no doubt driven me to be an enemy of Humanity. So, I cast my shackles aside, and I renounce my oath to you. 

 

I am an impious man. I am moved by actions and not by words. Unchained, I shall do more services to the annals of our shared future histories than if I were to remain by your side; nothing but a lackluster shadow overpowered by the State and its bureaucrats.

 

May God bless you and yours, and may your husband treat you kindly. 

 

Signed fondly, 

 

Paul Dmitrievich Montalt

 

[Cepheid 4304]

From within her tower overlooking the Petra, the young Charlotte stirred from her nap as she was slumped against her desk, having fallen asleep by the candlelight. She watched as the lone rider rode out of town and a frown turned on her expression. "Da had a dream, one of rivers and mountains. More and more of those that shared such a dream have left. Only time will tell if the web of time comes to a halt..." The youth remarked wistfully.