I strode purposefully through the towering halls of the Imperial Palace, my gaze fixed upon the opulence that surrounded me. The walls boasted intricate carvings, depicting legendary battles and the great rulers of bygone eras. The floors were made of polished marble, reflecting the splendor of the palace in dazzling patterns. And the ceilings soared so high, they appeared to brush against the very heavens themselves.
Yet, my mind was elsewhere. I awaited a missive from Empress Sharona, and the gravity of her words weighed heavily upon me. As I continued my march, the fervent debate between eight of my courtiers raged on, their impassioned arguments akin to the ancient Etonian debates of the Kor'shak Morai. Their fanaticism made my skin crawl, for I had witnessed the devastation such zealotry could inflict upon nations. They were to blame for the fall of our homelands, including The Neo Eternal Empire, now remembered as "the great shame" by its descendants even decades after its demise.
Destined by fate to be born into the Grand Design, the harbinger of a golden age unseen since the War in Heaven. A mantle borne by few, entrusted with the responsibility of sustaining civilization for generations to come. A burden that made me envious of the carefree and unencumbered Tors of the Rathgarian Confederation, however savage they might be.
As if mocking my plight, a young page approached me, pledging unwavering loyalty and hailing me as the Apotheon. Though I smiled outwardly and accepted her oath, inwardly, I cringed at the thought of being idolized like a deity, even if my long lifespan could appear godlike to the lesser minds of the second ones.
Entering the war room, I found my trusted advisors engrossed in a discussion on the latest progress of our colonization of the western plains. But the illumination of my mind was extinguished by the glaring darkness of the void. The young page's words echoed, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
"In the sight of One, We rule all," I muttered under my breath, reciting the ancient maxim of the House of the DeadKings. My advisors must have heard me for they echoed my words and saluted, acknowledging our divine right to rule. Yet, to me, it was a reminder of the constant threat that loomed over my reign.
The Eternal Curia was ever-vigilant, waiting for any hint of weakness that they could exploit. If I faltered, they would devour me and my legacy, just as they had done to the DeadKings of Old. The weight of my responsibility as king only grew heavier with each passing day. But, as my own noble house declared, I was to "bring the light" of the Eternal God into this world, for it was His Grand Design to which I was a slave.
Excerpt from King Asran's journal, Year 36-Week 39-Day 3.