My thoughts are often constrained. I do not rest well, even now in my old age. The moments and images have long since passed from my vision, yet I am haunted by my memories, those lingering like possessive gizmos in the depths of night. When we abandoned Moun and all those who resided within her, I questioned the very nature of my faith in Mitula, as while as the authenticity of transcendent morality. Innocence, what does such a word signify? Is it more than a mere linguistic construction? The brutality of this world sickens me, and even following the defeat of the Devil King, I find that I cannot reconcile with the massacre at Moun, nor can I reconcile with the dualisms that dominant our perception of light,darkness, and intrinsic evil. If such a thing indeed exists. As a result of these inquiries, my belief in the existence of an objective morality has weakened greatly, as has my once unwavering loyalty to the Goddess.

Long had I dwelt in her temple, deep in study and prayer. I believed in my worship and learning, I would attain truth, for she was a celestial being possessing wisdom that is far beyond what mortal men can know. The teachings of the Goddess, while idealistic and virtuous in nature, lack practical application in this realm. We speak of the devils as though they are our only concern, but men can be just as monstrous as the beasts they slay, and in concerns to such a species, I find that I can neither accept, nor reject moral relativism, for even now I ponder man's self proclaimed divinity.

I have spent many nights lying awake, remembering the civilians that perished in result of my cowardice, and though it does grieve me greatly, I find that I can do no more to repent. I was present when the Devil King was banished once more to the Nether Realm, and I prayed over top corpses of the Moun's fallen. I hope when I pass I will be forgiven for these sins, though the blood remains imprinted, and these moments are but shards.

I spent unnumbered hours in council with King Pacalon IV, discussing and calculating our response to the invading devil forces. As a historian, I sometimes struggle to set aside my personal bias when critiquing his reign, for though history does not smile upon many of his policies, I myself came to know him as a wise and loving ruler, albeit cowardly. He feared greatly the spilling of his people's blood, feared what would become of Paramecia if the gate was to be opened.

He had seen the once seemingly invincible armies of the Pacalon Knights grow weak and vulnerable, with victory no longer an assured consequence of battle. This was due in part to poor harvests, which required funding and labor derived from the military budget, and yet also because of an absurd, inherited arrogance that had festered among their ranks due to their extensive, and to some extent romanticized, military history. Their blades thus became dulled, and the most arrogant and brash among them were the first to fall. As the great knight Higgins experienced when he engaged Geshep, and all of his companions were killed, no longer were the knights invincible, and defeat was not an unlikely outcome of open war with Zeon's armies. All of these factors led to the breaking of the treaty with Moun, and to this day, it weighs heavily upon my conscience.

Though the great kingdom was indeed comprised largely of a knightly class, one that subscribed to a strict set of principles and tenants defining the nature of honor, and that which constitutes an honourable existence, I find that King Pacalon IV was unlike his father, and was far more of an aristocrat than a soldier. This is not an wholly negative attribute, as the king's social reforms were quite desirable and radical in comparison to those of his father and grandfather. I mean only to say that in King Pacalon IV, we can observe a notable step in Pacalon's history concerning the progression from Warrior-Kings to aristocrats. Though war was somewhat scarce in those times, the king's father did indeed lead troops from the front on two separate occasions. Though much smaller in scale, these battles serve as precursors to the War of Two Jewels. It is important to observe that during one of these two skirmishes, King Pacalon III was nearly mortally wounded by a Death Archer in the midst of battle. Had the arrow struck him but a few inches lower, his heart would have been pierced. I feel that near death of his father instilled a fear of war into the young prince, he who was already much more interested in scholarship than becoming a combat artisan.

It is my belief that the regrettable decision to seal the gate was influenced by fears that King Pacalon IV had harboured since his youth in conjunction with a staunch desire to shield his people from destruction. I know full well the consequences of his decision, and the great number of innocents who died as a result of his cowardice, but even so I cannot condemn the king, for though he was afraid, it was love of his people that stayed his hand. When asked about the subject of war, King Pacalon IV had this to say:

"Rune has not been a peaceful place. There has been war between light and darkness since time uncounted, and even now the cycle continues in perpetual absurdity. I have no love of war, I have no love of the blade. I have long ago cast away primitive illusions of glory and death upon the field. Life is a precious thing, and blood does not wash easily from one's hands."

Memoirs of a Foolish Sage

-Frayja