#*unsheathed.

And hello to you as well. 

My colleagues and I have a penchant for Latin it seems. The term is actually “renascemur.” It came from the term renascor from re (again) and nascor (I am born). Thus it is “I am born again”, “revived” or “renewed”. 

Though I did not want it to simply be about me. I wanted to embody the Order’s purpose with the term. I wanted to emphasize the meaning of “again” but in so much as relate it to “resurrection” or “revival”. The Order was born out of realization. We will never be destroyed. Time pass and even when your kind appears to triumph, still we rise again. 

Thus, renascemur: “We will be born again.”

It was either that or resurgens.

“Forgive me, Grandmaster. I didn’t mean to intrude, really.”

There he finds Haytham sitting by his desk and neatly folding a worn out letter. His table empty and without his usual opened journal, pen and ink. His tea cup untouched, now cold. 

Haytham glanced toward the darkened horizon, beyond the waves, looked directly at the night’s blackness. He rather enjoyed the silence he held with only the sound of the crashing sea.

When he saw the movement, he only gave a glance before his brows furrow in confusion. The question was not something he expected.

“Why Mister Cormac, have I ever lied to you?”

Nonchalantly wipes the blood off his hidden blade before offering the handkerchief to Shay.