Liberi Reader

Ever since King Yliš died, I continued to see him many more times.

His emotions and experiences remained within 'Civilight Eterna', but there were marked differences between them and my memories of him.

My impression of him was of a man always sitting at the center of the chamber of the Royal Court, his head hung low, never speaking a word while other members bickered amongst one another.

Duq'arael and Nezzsalem believed him too weak, telling him plain to his face that once more the Black Crown has erred in its choice of successor. He never responded. He merely continued to stare out the window, his gaze enraptured by the thick smoke billowing out of the furnaces outside.

Only after his death did I know that Yliš was a remarkable Caster and artisan, once dedicating his time to researching Arts that would improve the living conditions of the people, planning out all the possible ways that Kazdel could step into the Crystal Age.

He travelled for many years. Once returned, he persuaded the revenants to prepare to raise an immense furnace in the heart of the city, larger than any other.

But once the crown fell upon his head, the newly-coronated King of Sarkaz slowly slipped into silence.

The sudden burden of all-too-many emotions and memories is a pain beyond measure. Many chosen by the crown did not have time to leave behind their names, so swift was their death from madness.

But Yliš did not fall into insanity. He bore it all. It was thanks to his lucidity that he fell further and further into despair.

The Black Crown had revealed a truth to him, and to me in turn—

All that we can envision, the entire future of the Sarkaz, is most likely to be yet another loop in the cycle that is the tortured history of our race.

All that we build will end in ruin.

War will tear apart his Kazdel. War will kill him.

War will kill me.

I have talked to Theresis about Gul'dul the Citymaker many times.

The Children of Soil and Stone had long since scattered across the land. I was in no way able to replicate his deeds, what with his unique talent for commanding Gargoyles that he used to quickly lay down city walls of stone. However, I was able to learn much from his decisiveness and leadership.

A clothesmaker, a citymaker.

I jokingly told Theresis that perhaps Gul'dul and I were more alike than I thought.

His face turned rather serious all of a sudden, telling me that he would not allow me to share the same fate as that king, betrayed by those he called his closest companions.

I was never able to share all of Gul'dul's thoughts and feelings with Theresis.

Gul'dul's final emotions had embedded themselves deeply into my mind. The last thing he laid eyes on was not the Diαblo who betrayed him, but the city that he and his countless fellows had wrought together.

We knew that Gul'dul would not be the last King of Sarkaz slain by the ones they hold dearest, nor was his city the final Kazdel.

As long as there are still those who yearn to return home, Kazdel will be reborn from the ashes.

Our progress on Babel's work saw heavy pushback at every turn, as expected.

I was never worried about failure, but I did not want to see those who harbored hope fall back into the cycle of despair.

I dove deeper and deeper into 'Civilight Eterna'.

Kal'tsit reminded me that this could put a strain on my body, but time was short, and I had to make use of every resource that I could.

In the end, I managed to find the Farchaser, the very first King of Sarkaz.

I saw a faint vision of a war that engulfed the sky and the earth, a crowd of people being devoured by despair, and then... what was perhaps Originium. I could not say. It looked far different from the black crystals we are familiar with, glinting with the cleanest luster.

Our King of Sarkaz, defender of the first Kazdel, offered his very blood and soul to it.

Soon after, eternal night descended. All sound and light faded from us without a trace.

The Farchaser had renounced his name and left little emotion within 'Civilight Eterna'. I believe he did so intentionally. He embraced the darkness on behalf of all Sarkaz, and buried himself within it.

What I had stepped into was a cold and desolate tomb.

I paced back and forth within, lost in thought amidst the silence.

Up until the moment that I realized that the darkness was not as desolate as I had assumed.