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Journal Entry 007 - Saedra Vireth, Duskborn Heiress
Date: 2200.01.13
They gave me a crown I cannot wear yet. Not in truth. Not while the Sanguinarch still draws breath.
And yet the court whispers. Not of his end, but of mine. It is an old game.
Today, I stood before the Gene-Lattice. Its coils hummed with the same tone that haunted my cradle. There, under the pale etching of the blood-star, I was named heir.
I did not kneel.
Iraleth Mor announced it with that infuriating neutrality of hers. Her voice does not rise, even in triumph. Even for me. Behind her stood the nobles, arranged like carved icons: sterile, polished, afraid.
Varek said little. He only watched. And when I met his gaze, I did not blink.
Let them think me a flame that burns too fast. Let them forget what waits in embers.
I have studied the stars. I have mapped the pulses of the void and listened to the death of suns. They think me a symbol. I will be a vector.
They do not know what I have seen.
I will not inherit an empire.
I will become it.
- S. M.