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Henrik Amador twists a diamond 'round and 'round his ring finger, a rare grin crooked across his face as he peers around a family gathering. The future, it seems, burns bright.

Henrik Amador blinks twice. He is, though, pleasantly surprised at the merchants' wedding, and at long last sets to clearing the complicated charts of courtships and rivalries off his desk for, at least, one sister.

Henrik Amador runs a hand along a childhood blanket, and sighs - a letter to the clergy upon his desk, and a carving-knife for the funeral tree. E, at least, was easy enough to mark.

Henrik touches a scar which mars his young face, uncertain of where it came; bound in bandages and plasters beneath the watchful eye of another uncle ( @MarquisAlex). "It is no matter," he murmurs to himself, regarding the wound - "we are as one again, united against what comes." - "And Godan knows we could use aedypapej's trainin'." Despite it all, he smiles a crooked grin, and sets aside a crate of fine, imported teas to forward onto Lotusgrad for Sterling's enjoyment.

Henrik Amador slowly and rythmically thuds his head against a wall, despite medical advice.

Henrik, should he obtain a copy, eagerly archives the addition in the baronial library deep below Mondstadt.

1350 A.H. - Present ─── From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present ⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ “The silencing order had been given, and all men held their noise no matter how driven. Time had come to drag the enemy from the keep they lived in. Every man fallen today would be a bloody addition.” Leonid d’Arkent-Kortrevich, The Fall of Brasca, stanza II. 507ES. 15th of Gronna & Droba | 507 E.S ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺⠀I⠀༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ FOR THE RECORDS, Few honors will burn so bright as attendance at the Fall of Brasca, such a fine victory that it was, and this scholar cannot write objectively for I am still in the basking in the glow our last triumph and the coming jubilee of Haense. When the battlefields grow over and the ruins become relics, there will be time to write of it in the depth it deserves: until then it is the archives’ solemn duty to preserve and protect all works which record these legendary days as they bloom, and my own honor to raise my blade for the right side of history. ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺⠀II⠀༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ TO THE NIKULDOV, So now we know how the wind blows. Surely, Bo, you are not so blinded by the sins of the ANATHEMA that you cannot see what a dark and forsaken ink you write your own legacy in. It is with a heavy heart I once more extend my hands to you, once-scion of our once-unified line. If by the machinations of GODAN you did not fall on the battlefield (and I would so well envy they who had the honor of sending you to answer to Him), then I ask you thus: do the festering remnants of your lost honor burn within you still? Do you yet ache with the shame of knowing yourself misled? Is there any of our line’s righteous fire at all left within you? If so, I offer a last chance at repentance. Come once more to the hallowed lands of the North. Lay your arms at my feet. Admit the wrongs you have lent your hand to wrought against this good House. Bare your throat for the lawful and rightful justice which awaits all Traitors, and, perhaps, redeem yourself as one worth remembering – or fall as a mere shadow of a footnote. I eagerly await your decision. PETRAVEZK IV VATRAGAN, His Lordship, Henrik III Edvard Amador, 11th Baron of Mondstadt, Lord of Queen’s Crossing, Patriarch of the House of Amador and Lord Archivist to the Royal Valdev Library An archival depiction of the Covenant forces in Brasca.

A tattered Brascan banner hangs next to a framed, illuminated copy of the great poet's work in the halls of Queen's Crossing.

Henrik Amador's whetstone scrapes his blade with methodic precision, the missive upon his workbench. He says nothing on the woman who houses the Nikuldov, and offers no thought on what another might say next: but balances the steel in the firelight, and admires the gleam along its razor-sharp edge. Here, he supposes, is his mercy.

Henrik knelt before his mother’s grave in the nation she once fought for, clasping a sword belonging to his ancient namesake. “For my king’s peace,” he prayed. “For the mercy I will not have.”

1350 A.H. - Present ─── From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present ⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ 12th of Joma & Umund | 506 E.S ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺⠀I⠀༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ VA EDLERVIK, By the Will of the Crown and the leal House of Amador, Bo Amador is hereby disowned on grounds of treason. His name and the name of his line shall henceforth be known to us as Nikuldov, struck and barred from the lineage and honours of the House Amador until such a time the rightful reigning Patriarch finds him redeemed. Such a verdict is borne from my understanding that my once-cousin Bo, with whom I share the common ancestor of Katherine daughter of Henrik I Amador, consorts with the anathema League of Veletz, and speaks against Hanseti-Ruska and Amador’s sworn fealty to the Dual Kingdoms. Now more than ever, after the death of Arn Colborn, son of Liridona Amador, in the field of battle, the bond of this House’s good blood is to those lands which would crusade for the rightful cause. Though I do not decree Bo Nikuldov kinslayer, knowing he raises no sword for Veletz as of yet, I do remind him who he consorts with. It brings great pain to this house to turn away from our flock one who sees the brightest flame for our future; however, to consort with those considered anathema is a sinful wrong which burns deeper than even the bonds of blood, and this house will not stand to see itself divided. I do not doubt that Bo wishes to see our family restored to all we have been: I do not doubt he has acted in what he thought in his heart was right: but the hearts of men are flawed, and it is the deception to which he has fallen astray which forces my hand. The House Amador holds fast to its oaths to His Royal Majesty Aleksandr II, who rules his Kingdoms by divine right. We raise our blades for His Majesty and the Holy Mother Church, by the righteous will of GODAN. We know the claims of no kin who would, however deceived, turn their backs to Him. From ashes, we rise. PETRAVEZK IV VATRAGAN, His Lordship, Henrik III Edvard Amador, 11th Baron of Mondstadt, Lord of Queen’s Crossing, Patriarch of the House of Amador and High Archivist to the Royal Valdev Library

Henrik Amador prepared to don the blacks for his little cousin, face grim. "Blood for blood."

Henrik Amador reviews the missive with a scowl after having written the Augusten on lighter matters. A line is thus marked in the Amador ledger, should their Heartlands friend wish for a grant in finding a suitable prosthetic.

Henrik was already sending for a plethora of copies, frames, and jewels for the house’s unexpected martyr.

Henrik Amador signs the Lorraine, and stoops to pray for benediction - and a sure soldier's hand.

⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ "Prince Henry wanted peace and he was taken from us. King Edmund wanted peace and he has been slain. ... We shall bring peace." His Royal Majesty, Aleksandr II The remaining soldiers were brought to the church nearest Whitespire; convened in the pews before the body of the slain King to pay respects and to review the United Kingdom's succession. Archival copy attached. In the following days, the Office of Truth released the official Brotherhood incident report; the realms of Hanseti-Ruska, Balian, Petra, Urguan, and Hyspia formed a Formation of the Covenant; and the Covenant thereafter declared war on Veletz and its allies. Archival copies attached.

10th of Tov & Yermey | 505E.S ⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ A first-hand account of events in Aaun and the Midlands on the afternoon and night of the 10th of Tov & Yermey in the Ehr Sigmunda 505. Recorded for the public archives of the Royal Valdev Library. Hand of Henrik Amador, Lord Archivist. AS RECALLED, The Brotherhood rally began in Valdev, at the frontmost gate. It rode out to meet with Waldenians, Hyspians, Haeseni, Balianese, and Petran rallies; united, they rode to the gates of Whitespire, capital of Aaun, where upon finding the gates to the palace shuttered called for their opening. Here the first rumor of Edmund, King of Aaun’s death began. Notable members of the rally included His Majesty, Aleksandr II; Her Majesty, Catherine I; Her Highness, Ramona of Hyspia; Her Highness, Emma Anastasya, Princess Royal of Hanseti-Ruska; Her Highness, Elena Casimira, Princess Royal of Balian; His Holiness, the Pontiff Sixtus VI; and warriors from across Humanity’s righteous realms. At the gates of the Hand of Horen, soldiers climbed through trees and over walls in the hopes of entry before the confirmation of deaths. The first calls of the kings’ death echoed with certainty. A priest emerged with the body of Edmund I; thereafter a procession guided it to a safehouse, presumably for burial preparations. Witnesses further report the body of the Prince of Merryweather seen removed from the palace. Within the Hand of Horen, the united Canonist force stormed its spires. Unknown sighters observed the assailants of the King attempting to flee through the water. One of the interior windows, of green and red glass, facing the Paradisian Throne - had been shattered, though this may not have sustained the sole means of entry. The united Canonist force gave chase through the sea; pursuit eventually reached the nearest Eastern shore, at which point the most vocal of the force called rallying cries from Balian, Hyspia, Hokhmat, and Haense, and for the Church. The Princess Royal of Balian, Elena Casimira, executed the first of the captives. A bannerman of House Ludovar revealed another’s visage to the crowd, though he bore no recognizable face. Thereafter the rallied forces returned to Whitespire, readying at its foremost gate. Orcish warcries began shortly after shuttering it; thereafter Darkspawn and Veletzians arrived, while within the city clergy released printings of the will and testament of Edmund II. Among the enemy ranks, an elf claimed to bear the Pontiff Sixtus VI’s head; thereafter they offered taunts of the Haeseni affiliating with Iblees’ followers, the contradiction of which should be obvious to the historical record. The forces lined the street of Whitespire; Haense and Her allies held their line. A captured goblin, fighting with the Veletz force, received a just execution in the Aaun square; and the conflict resolved with a resolute victory for Hanseti-Ruska, though the tragic and untimely loss of Aaunite life. Further happenings in Aaunite succession and the aftermath as it relates to Hanseti-Ruska will be recorded in this binding for posterity. VIKTY ES LEKONSKED,

Sapphires, silk, and steel. The Amador smithy blazes red-hot. The letters come and go. The jewels come in velvet, and by the crate. The future will be welcomed well.

─── From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present ⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ IN ADDITION, I have been informed that the attack took place in our family chapel, beneath the Lorraine our House proudly wears, in our consecrated place of prayer. This insult can never go forgotten. We pray our people and our Church stand with us. PETRAVEZK IV VATRAGAN,

1350 A.H. - Present ─── From Ashes, We Rise EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present ⋅ ───⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─── ⋅ 16th of Vzmey & Hyff | 505 E.S ⋅ ───────────────⊱༺⠀☨⠀༻⊰─────────────── ⋅ It is the outrage of the House of Amador to report an intrusion upon our familial lands this day, while the young Lady Theosodya Amador entertained guests in the main hall. Brazenly did the brutes enter, and with no interest in that of material value: instead they delighted in the torment of Mondstadt’s residents, shattering the nose of our Theodosya and cruelly cutting her hair in an effort to shame her -- as if we could be so easily humiliated in our own house. Both were identified as a man and woman who implied they hailed from the Heartlands; clad in red, and the man sporting flaxen hair beneath a red-and-black hat and white feather. Information leading to their capture and righteous justice will be rewarded in coin and the favour of House Amador. PETRAVEZK IV VATRAGAN, His Lordship, Henrik III Edvard Amador, 11th Baron of Mondstadt, Patriarch of House Amador, Lord Archivist to the Royal Valdev Library A very angry aedymaemj

Henrik Amador had, as he often did, slumped at his desk — head rising with a strangled sound of fear, and hand sending ink cascading from the bottle and down onto the floor with a shatter of glass. He stared for a long time as it oozed into an unnervingly dark puddle and sank into the wooden floor, waiting for the stain to stare back. Just a dream, then.

Henrik files the publication in his personal office with a crooked smile, humming a ditty to himself.

Henrik Amador blinks as he prepares the most recent publication for archiving. He decides he doesn’t know anyone it could be about. Lovely prose, though.

Henrik sends at once for a hefty shipment of precious wares befitting the soldiers' union, his own happiness for the couple about to be expressed through the bestowing of finery en masse.

Henrik hums to himself, carefully wrapping Vuiller-blue jewels. - Fabian, a granduncle at last, dances!