𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐭-𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐡 / @klymenos
“ what has happened can never be undone. ”
𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 / 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈
And lo the words of a woebegone man, tall did he stand amid a realm contrived of trauma relived and histories retold — and should we all burn in that selfsame fire in his judgement of reprisal, should the ashes that fall from us be his closure, as time has told, as the future beheld in the Exarch’s eye has spoken — and should he again rewrite what was said so words were a memory bereft of ink on a page, told to no one but an echo in a stretched chamber of no ends meet. Hope was his light in the darkness and should that brilliance continue to burn, none will stand in his way of it; Not the Eight Umbral Calamity, and never this rehearsal of a man’s throes.
The Exarch was not fond of the premise of certain certainty, given the circumstance. Emet-Selch’s pages were timeworn, solidified and the cause of all to be. While that of which already lives as history lived through the lives of us all, that has yet to mean this story will end in tragedy — and though tragedy he has lived, the people will not suffer it as consequence, and the Exarch will see to that.
The crystal tower was far but he was safe in its gift. He was not afraid.
When he speaks, his words are exhausted from his chest. “ We will not see our worlds be martyrs to your narration. ” Red was dried to his skin, the bruised skies mirrored his flesh — he became the walking depiction of abhorrence, of blackened flame, of a mans hopes squandered — yet he still stands in belief of a world better. “ What has been done . . ” he breathes, “ is not bereft of salvation. ”
