Part 2. Consumed in duality.

Draconian Version: Consumed in Duality.

Good and evil—to what extent is it possible to differentiate between these two reductionist stances on reality? There are those who would have us believe that everything is based on an eternal dispute between the sanctified and the monstrously abominable, as though it were simply black and white. Yet I have seen and verified that the world is rather like an amalgam of different colours, with varying shades ranging from eclectic dark to bright and gleaming, which does not mean, of course, that being dark makes it evil.

At that time, in the year 1219, I served under Redhorn. I commanded the troops of the Third Army of the Granheim Union.

While my fellow commanders advanced towards the capital, my path led to Templaria, where I subdued the last remaining Potentate leaders who were holding out. "Fear not, brother priors," were the words entrusted to me. Like most of the inhabitants of Granheim, my life was forged among events that drove me to fight for an imperative need: the right to live in peace. And these occurrences are intimately linked to what is happening currently.

It is undeniable that many make other choices during war. Redhorn, however, urged us to bring conflicts to a swift end, for friends and foes alike, we were born wrapped within them. And if we did nothing, we would continue burning entire lives away in the abyss of destruction.

Was it heresy? No, absolutely not. On this southern island (called Granheim), a whimsical thing happened in the year 1218 of the Potentate calendar. We ascended the peaks of the majestic Atrium Mountains, the very heart of Granheim. Our militias crossed those mountain ranges, led by my master Magnet Baldovo, the commander of the Red Dragon's armies.

High up on the stormy peaks, in the year 1218 of the Omnipotent, we engaged in combat and were on the verge of defeat against one of the princes of the Holy Kingdom of Granheim, Tyrant Allianze, known back then as the Unbeatable Scourge of God. Most of our troops had fallen in the fray. At that critical moment, my commander, Magnet Baldovo, grabbed my arm and hid us inside an immense ice cave before a celestial assault.

The celestial bombardments, carried out by the angels in the service of the Potentates, were dangerous, which is why we took shelter underground. There, my commander Baldovo revealed to me that he had found Redhorn in the Mar-Mortem Domain. He told me that she is reborn with every outbreak of war because she is the guardian of the earth. She is a spirit that emerges amidst every shedding of innocent blood, seeking justice and peace.

At first, I thought it was merely a tale to keep our spirits up, one of those stories woven to face the darkest of times. Yet a sharp whistle, like thunder threatening to shatter my eardrums, rang out. The sky cracked, and before us she emerged: Redhorn.

She vanquished the angels who were slaughtering us with divine fury. But Prince Tyrant Allianze was holding a rock that contained his famous Cherub, his primary weapon in the most difficult contests.

Meanwhile, Redhorn, who was power incarnate, waited for Tyrant Allianze's priors to summon the Cherub. Our saviour soared through the skies with an energy that caused all the Potentate warriors to flee.

When the Cherub was finally summoned—he who was considered the most powerful angel of the Potentates—he felt fear. It was then that Redhorn revealed her utmost power, and a light blanketed the combatants' eyes.

Once we recovered our sight, that Cherub who had previously boasted such immense might was reduced to a frightened young girl once more. In a single second, all those decades of service were nullified by Redhorn, and that girl was now free to follow her own thoughts.

 *Grand Prior Arthur Greyskies