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Of origins private and best kept to himself, Aurelio came to Ephia's Well with the expressed goal to join the Balladeers of the Lost Hearth. From Baz'eel and Il Modo the College is known, the old tenants that bind their brotherhood as second nature to Aurelio d'Lyon. Holy quest made their bond ironclad, divine duty compelling to seek the very Cup that this order sought, that all might quench their thirsts and live in an age of plenty.

It is said destiny is deceptive in its design and masquerades as a gale wind's fickle shape, and in this instance, the sands of time blew a storm that carried unlikely flecks together at the right time, the right place. Suffering was center stage, Mae's Meteor had crashed into the world and many suffered its affliction - one could argue divine providence to usher on the likes of a B'aaran such as Aurelio d'Lyon, and an enthusiastic empathic woman such as Sister Selsi, all at once. Every second counted as the outcome laid in the balance, and by the trial of the forge, their measure had begun, a duo of strong convictions walking the sword's edge.

His debut, one of extreme heroism, braving the red miasma to lead back the families of those communities trapped in its ire, facing horrors never-before seen in mortal combat, honing skills by peril, rather than a tutor's lash and training leather, the likes of which impressing both Lyrists Alois Dideraux and John Henry, and taking him under their tutelage. A tutelage that was well orchestrated, it seem, Aurelio a quick-study, embodying the same principles that they expected of all who lead. Aurelio's experience with leadership made it a natural fit, and with these two features combined, it made a swift Balladeer of an outsider who's likeness was so close that they would be considered kin.

The weeks turned to months and years, and in his personal tenure, he came to organize the internal workings of the College of the Lost Hearth, tightening the bond between Student and Balladeer, so as to personalize its tutelage and establish the nuances of personal and chivalrous conduct, and enrich the personal growth of each Student. One wondered if there was any lesson left to learn, for one who was not just a sterling example of the B'aaran faith, but also that of the Cinquefoil Rose. His laurels as Lyrist shined great and proud, yet the fathoms of mortal comprehension could only see so far.

Tragedy came suddenly and uninvited.

Bright lights cast long shadows, and in those shadows that Aurelio could not gaze into, a serpent plied its lies, preying upon the same instincts of righteousness and bravery that Aurelio had sharpened within the innate nature of Koji. These lies rushed him into action, publicly striking down the terror and Banda Rossan bullyboy Vico Rasca.

It was not his neglect that doomed this poor Student, but his compassion - his love for this man that was so rich and pure, as a father would love his own son. With the heights that the bold have to climb, one might not have required temperance to such a capacity that courage was needed, and with that smallest of vulnerability upon such a radiant host, the serpent's fangs found its target. Koji rests now, with only The River Edutu to carry all the love that beats for him still downstream.

His shortcomings surrounding this situation had costed him his position as Lyrist, yet for all the weight that falls upon him for the loss of his squire, what of the others, that followed in his step and example? Who were they?

Heroes.

Behold the likeness of Siegward Eyck, who faced horrors of history and the evils of men alike, by only the distance of his sword. One the Dragonslayers who laid low Tsk'karr the Storied, Siegward the djinn-breaker, Siegward the bandit-basher, Stalwart Siegward, wreathed in roses.
 
Behold the likeness of Saria Silverlocke, who stood tall when called to action and liberated Arslan from the clutches of the orcs and held where few others would. Freedom rode on the shoulders of the red and black that day, and those proud colors did she carry into the swirling maelstrom of carnage.
 
Behold Ithelred of the Spring, who's brief glimpse of life was bright and brilliant, yielding to none, unflinching before any odds, centerpoint of a bulwark where all lesser men took refuge.

Behold Quincy Parsons, who's camaraderie and dare mustered the courage of a braggart within the soul of a knight, marching into the darkest depths of Iakmes' clutches, so that the sun might rise another day.

Behold Beloved Onion, who's japes and harpy taunts are but symptoms of all the courage that wells within such a tiny form.

Behold many more, who's names are recorded within the deeps of the College of the Lost Hearth.

Behold them all, living and dead, who have faced the final test of valor and were not found wanting, those who rose to the very embodiment of heroism, a thing with demands that are at odds with the very fundamental features of a mortal being. Their lives and their timely ends were not failures of instruction, but a destiny realized, and a tomorrow purchased at a price too many would shrink away from paying.

Koji's blaze and bravery pushed Aurelio to even greater heights, daring to shape the finer details of chivalry and righteousness that he would carry on campaign. From the moment Marcellus Saenus empowered Iakmes to slay The Old Masters, the formation of The Hunters that waylaid and halted the inexorable advances of the now-united clans, to the campaign abroad, onto the Boundary, the Lover's Gap, the destruction of the great war engine, and even onto the Iron Works in the heart of a great blaze, The Scald and its long summer, the Bronze Forge and even the Silverworks at the heart of Bet Nappahi, discretion and wisdom tempered zeal into a fine implement, sharpened to a razor's edge and wielded with masterful results.

But these nuances that formed within his tenants, he did not hoard them for his students, for he entered politics some time within, sharing his insights, his comradery with the citizenry of Ephia's Well and fostering the bonds that brought a quiet Purple League back into the forefront. Greater still, did these tenants find their way within those who paid heed to the old virtues, fostering knighthood beyond the red and black, but into the very citizenry itself, who had all but forgotten its visage in favor of their new home.

Chivalry lives yet, carried upon the backs of those who hold it as sacrosanct.

Carried upon backs like Aurelio d'Lyon's. There he waits, upon his ramparts, his door and table open to those who swear fealty to these same tenants. Come the brave, the bold, the proactive and promised, ride unto the tomorrow yet unwritten.[/center]