I remember a day long ago. In a land to the east, in mountains and rage. I wasn't very old, and I did not understand everything that was happening.
I remember the smoke in the air, the red in the gutters, in the uniforms of the people who came to our homeland. My father had already left us to go to the palace, dawning his black spiked armor, his helm the face of Rhalgr himself. His smile did not assure me, it was not a smile of encouragement, it was a farewell. The embrace of my mother and father spoke a promise from my mother that she would do her part. After my father left she hurried about, grabbing only a few things. An old Fortemps ring made of unicorn horn, a book that would later prove of value, and a doll for his sister. The three ran from the house as others fled the doom of the airships. In the damaged aqueduct, neighbors crowded us. We could see as the roof of the Palace erupted, and the crowd around us cried out.
I remember as the soldiers moved in and rushed us all. The panic as armor and gunblade met flesh and fear. My mother was wounded, she pushed me away as the fire erupted. Her arm burned, her child gone, her soul aflame, she called to the others, doing what must be done, picking up the pieces later when she would have the luxury to. I was not so mature. I ran the mage down, a large stone in my hand and crushed his skull, even the children of Ala Mhigo knew to fight.
I remember reaching the Shroud, the joy, the fear. The twelvewood had no love of strangers. Several were lost to scouts, beast, or the spirits themselves. She was so strong, focused. Her determination undid the petty suspicion of the Stillglade, and opened Gridania to those of us who lived. She worked hard, made me proud, made me true.
This is what I remember.
Ser. Erik Mynhier 2nd Flame Lt.
Ul'dah, Thanalan
I remember the smoke in the air, the red in the gutters, in the uniforms of the people who came to our homeland. My father had already left us to go to the palace, dawning his black spiked armor, his helm the face of Rhalgr himself. His smile did not assure me, it was not a smile of encouragement, it was a farewell. The embrace of my mother and father spoke a promise from my mother that she would do her part. After my father left she hurried about, grabbing only a few things. An old Fortemps ring made of unicorn horn, a book that would later prove of value, and a doll for his sister. The three ran from the house as others fled the doom of the airships. In the damaged aqueduct, neighbors crowded us. We could see as the roof of the Palace erupted, and the crowd around us cried out.
I remember as the soldiers moved in and rushed us all. The panic as armor and gunblade met flesh and fear. My mother was wounded, she pushed me away as the fire erupted. Her arm burned, her child gone, her soul aflame, she called to the others, doing what must be done, picking up the pieces later when she would have the luxury to. I was not so mature. I ran the mage down, a large stone in my hand and crushed his skull, even the children of Ala Mhigo knew to fight.
I remember reaching the Shroud, the joy, the fear. The twelvewood had no love of strangers. Several were lost to scouts, beast, or the spirits themselves. She was so strong, focused. Her determination undid the petty suspicion of the Stillglade, and opened Gridania to those of us who lived. She worked hard, made me proud, made me true.
This is what I remember.
Ser. Erik Mynhier 2nd Flame Lt.
Ul'dah, Thanalan
![[Image: Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5YSh8yMniHU/VlLStr_7SSI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/qLoOmtz-Jdg/s100-Ic42/Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png)
