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___I look forward now, beloved; thirty years and more. The Empress sits no longer in her upper room, exposed to the sky, privately baring her soul to the world, pouring her heart into her tablets of clay.
___There is no longer any Empress. There is no Emperor.
___There, is the Arbiter.
___He was not the first.
___He would, however, be the last.
___The clean-shaven elderly man who slowly walked the carpeted aisle, dressed in candlelight-yellow robes, knew about the Arbiter. Most of the people in every Nation, knew about the Arbiter.
___This man, though, didn’t know there never would be another Arbiter.
___Neither did any scholars standing around him; nor the man who stood in front of him, wearing an eight-sided four-pointed star picked out in red upon his own yellow frock, above his heart.
___The walking man stopped his walking, having reached his destination.
___In front of him, a podium; upon the podium, a book.
___The pages of the book were blank.
___There would be others to be filled, everyone hoped; but this would be the first of the others.
___The leader of the ceremony nodded to his peer.
___The first man took the first step on his final path in life.
___He reached; received a pen; and then in ink precisely drew these marks upon the page.
❖ ❖ ❖
___I, Khase Sage Exemplar, of Rosatta, port city of the independent state of Noi, hereby dedicate this chronicle: to the Eye, to the Orthogon, and to any people of Mikon who wish to learn something more about the coming of the Arbiter of our Era.
❖ ❖ ❖
___He finished this sentence, beginning his final work. Only his death would end it. Khase had sealed himself to his task, as now he would demonstrate to his peers.
___Khase raised his right hand.
___His leader, the Sage Preeminar of the Rosatta Noi Orthogoni, held a thin metal wafer: a silver kran, unstamped by a nation. In one side had been jotted a sigil; out of the other, a unique arabesque had been carved with jotted precision.
___The Preeminar said nothing; the Exemplar had already given all necessary words, on the page.
___The Preeminar carefully reached, forward to Khase’s hand; to the meaty portion opposite the thumb—he applied the silver wafer.
___The sigil had been solely designed for this: as the elemental circuit closed, on contact with his living flesh, materia started reacting within the physical material.
___Khase grimaced, holding steady against the branding burn of searing flesh and sinking silver.
___The Preeminar quickly pulled away his fingers. He had not been burned; this effect had nothing to do with heat, despite its feel. But he didn’t want to interfere with any operations of the seal.
___The silver now was fused in Khase’s hand.
___Nearby waited an acolyte, a rust-red candle lit. She let some wax drip on the open page.
___Khase held his right hand over the spot.
___As he hoped—a drop of sizzling blood fell onto the wax.
___Had there been no blood, the acolyte also had brought a stylus; with which the sage would have nicked his own hand.
___But this was the better way. The wise respected even their superstitions: had blood not fallen first, that would have been a troubling omen.
___Hot wax; vitalized blood: upon this mixture, Khase forced his hand— imprinting with the arabesque that now would be his sign forever.
___This formality never would be required again, even for future volumes of his work. All Lifesearchers would aspire to seal their work, of course, with their final breath and blood; but circumstances didn’t always favor that intention.
___Khase Sage would gladly endure an occasional press of heated wax, however.
___A tiny price to pay—to leave his mark in history.
___This completed the ceremony. All the sages signed the book as witnesses; and then, along with the acolyte, returned to other duties.
___Khase brought his book, to his chamber in the Orthogoni. He’d already laid his travel schedule; but like any author, he preferred to commit his ready words to paper.
___Only a dusty prose, to many people.
___For Khase Sage: the doorway to an adventure…
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___Not many years have passed since the Journal of Seifas was delivered by the Arbiter Lestestauros, to the Promulgators, for publication to the people of all nations. At about the same time, copies of a single document were delivered by mysterious circumstance to every Sage Preeminar of Mikon: the Testimony of Portunista. The method of the deliveries, the existence of an apparent original, the peculiar features of the original and the copies, the combined testimony of the Preeminars: these, along with many textual evidences, provided robust arguments for the genuineness of the Testimony. The Preeminars, guided by the reception of the Journal among the people, authorized the publication of the Testimony as well, once Lestestauros had read and approved the document.
___These widely available histories—penned by a man and a woman who each contributed centrally to the events postdating the Culling of the Era of the Anshu Pax—have been helpful in reconstructing and preserving the ideas and perceptions of many key figures of our recent history. Furthermore, they offer the most consistent records, to date, of the coming of Lestestauros. However, their limited scope sometimes omits details historians might consider important and useful.
___I thus proposed to Hafis Sage Preeminar, of Rosatta Noi Orthogoni, that I should undertake a search into these events, while living memories still remain; and I was granted this privilege, as witnessed by my seal and the signatures of the Exemplars of Rosatta Noi Orthogoni.
___This chronicle is my contribution to the collected history of Mikon.
❖ ❖ ❖
___Sighing contentedly, Khase closed his book.
___Now he was ready to truly begin.
Jason == Chase == Khase.