Memento Mori & The Clarity of Sobriety

[Hierophant]

Memento Mori & The Clarity of Sobriety
Penned by Leo Tzimiskes, Partisan of the Gold League

Let blessings bloom, O fruitful tree,
May fortune smile, your works to see.

Across the Edutu, distant and wide,
Accept the journey, stride by stride.

Trust the balance, trust the fate,
All aligns in due, patient wait.

Salhin heard, with ears keen and clear,
Truth affirmed, dispelling fear!

Through winds that blow, and waters flow,
through the reeds we've come to know.

Martyrs' gaze, a silent plea,
Ashamed am I, for all to see.

In wisdom's light, their lessons glow,
So they taught, and we now know.

[Hierophant]

In the shadow's grasp, where whispers fade,
Memento Mori, our dues are paid.

For in the realm where mortals roam,
Kalim awaits, our final home.

The Edutu's waters, tranquil and deep,
Where souls in silence, softly sleep.

Towards Bel-Ishun, paradise gleams,
In Gamil's guidance, we find our dreams.

This world, a fleeting,
fragile thing,
In its decay, our souls take wing.

Yet while we breathe this mortal air,
Let us live with purpose, free from despair.

No poison's lure, no mizzar's snare,
Shall cloud the path we choose to dare.

For in the quest for truth and what is right,
We find the strength to face Pra'raj and his Ashen blight.

A Martyr's flame, is in his heart,
It ignites this feeling in the dark.

In striving for a cause so grand,
We leave our mark upon this land.

So let us heed the call within,
To rise above, to strive, to win;

For in the end, when shadows fall,
Memento Mori, we heed the call.

[Hierophant]

Author's Note

I have often been asked if, when bellowing my mad words over the bellows, I knew of the consequences that might arise from such words. It has been amusing to watch others take my actions for foolishness, while others have applauded it for bravery and Hercule spirit.

Regardless of which side is right in this all, I will dispel the rumour that these words were spoken in a fit of rage or a fit of stupidity. Perhaps they were foolish words, but then who will say them but the fool himself? Of course, they were brave words; but brave men are not always cutting of wit.

I am who I am and I have never claimed otherwise; I was born in Ephia's Well in the year IY 7761 to Ignatius Tzimiskes and Zehra Tzimiska. My father perished in the fighting, of when this city was captured by the combined efforts of the Cinquefoil Rose and the Fourth Legion of our Sultan's Janissary. I never saw my father perish with my own eyes, but carts upon carts of the dead were tarried off to the Maqbara in those days and just as the Gleaming Friend would smile at us from atop the roofs as if to warn us such jaunts were dangerous, as we wrestled and climbed up the ramparts; I like to think I had seen my father smile at me from beneath the swallow of the dead, his hand waving at me from beneath the wagon, as if to say, "Fruit, bear your works." His son.

To say that I was scarred would be penning it lightly, for the tender of my words cannot describe those feelings I've long forgotten through my cups so deep and my clouds of mizzar. Recently, I had been encouraged to become more public, to put my name out there and find solace in the League of White. I wished to see where camaraderie could be found, and if it was true; and so I spoke my words and while circumstances had happened I did not anticipate so quickly, the true test of wit was upon those I would call my compatriots in the Lily. So I called for a meeting and prayed that others would find the declaration of Rosie Gunmper just as unsettling, for what it means of our young and fledgling Republic.

To my remiss, and not so much my dismay as I had been told many times by those I cherish that it was a fool's errand, not one among the crowd had bat an eye at my dilemma. Perhaps they saw that I was merely feeling the expulsion of the hole I dug myself, with my own words. So I cannot blame them entirely for words I strove to say, knowing full well they would not be received well. Yet none of my words had laid detail upon the accusations others would soon accost me with, such as Monarchist, Orentid, Rebel, Radical and more. I have never once made clarion call for the return of an Orentid state, and yet because of my birth, that is all others saw; but not everyone. I am delighted to say I share their company now, and have found my true compatriots. The damage done is easily repaired, and sooner or later you will come to know me better than the loud-mouthed fool on the bellows preaching against the Majordomo of al-Maribid.

Thank you for reading.

Yours truly,
Leo Tzimiskes