Fear not, the proud Golden Lion is here.

[Moloch]

Love is blindness.
But war, too, is so.

The curtain rises for a top I wanted not.
For the right to say that lacked a pursuit so hot.

Bear the light, Rhesus told. And thus I turned the weight of choice aloft.
A right that wasn't mine to wield, had fate not willed against so oft?

An ashen path asks me to lead, every knight's eyes perch themselves on me - is it truly a boon?
My word goes, and swords and shields torque in lieu.
Hessalia is next, short in wait, to come so soon. Will they know when they see me, too?

Avel.

Grandfather dear.

Tell me. What would you do?