I haven’t written in this for quite some time. I didn’t feel the need to. Everything seemed to be improving. We’d taken the fortress, found the deck of many things and saved the capital from the assault of the great spooky ones great armada. But it came at such a heavy cost. The Empire’s fleet is in disarray. The Imperial Royal Family have fled to safety, as if such a thing exists any more in this world and I’ve lost everything. My family is all but gone, not that I cared greatly for them anyway but it still stings. My titles have been given to the damn Ofilyns upon the time of my death, not that I was planning on having children but the point remains. Not to mention that both my immortal soul and the souls of my lovers are bound to the diabolist himself. Although I still trust him not to abuse my faith in him as a friend. But what is any of this in comparison to the loss of both Killian and Talathel. I realise Torrin will bring them back but it will require time and effort which we don’t have right now. We have two damn weeks to save the universe from the abominations I released all that time ago.
After all this time I struggle to remember the man I used to be. The naive idealist who believed he could redeem his family and be a hero to a great Empire that ruled the skies. Fed the stories from my grandfather I truly believed I was destined for greatness, a legend in the making. But what am I other than a shattered man who damned everyone and everything he loved. At this point my best hope is to die in the climax of the war. Die a martyr to the cause of keeping these monsters at bay. At least I know Torrin will look after the Drake name in my stead. When he brings me back I’ll shed my name and titles, I don’t want to further sully the name of the idealistic hero I once was. I’ll serve my own title in secret, worst case scenario I’ll only bring shame to a fictional persona. It’ll make an interesting story for Talathel and give Killian something to do.