Rebat took the scroll, nodding. "Nobody's easy," he said, mostly to himself. Least of all Merat, his old commanding officer. Merat was one who demanded too much, then became furious when not every single order was carried out to success. When the wars for Traeton came to a close, Rebat was given a promotion he could not refuse. He promised himself he would never act as Merat had. It mattered not that this Seleucus was no diplomat, nor did it matter that the soldiers following him were undisciplined and itching for a fight. With a sharp command, the columns of kobolds descended upon the city. Time to pay their respects to the Grand Prince. 
_____________________________________________________
"Order! Order!" Came a shout from the front. Kutur craned his neck and looked up at the buildings around him. Mighty statues, endless columns and arches, a stained-glass dome above his head. Built, he knew, by a grateful Basileus to usher in the end of the suppression of magic in Constantsea. This was where the academy of scholars in the Bythesea Empire met, and where the archmages of old were buried, as the case is now. A slender, hunchbacked woman hobbled up to the front of the crowd. "Magisters, exarchs, and secular rulers! Today we mourn the loss of our greatest, our wisest, the Archmagus Lionus!" a mutter went through the crowd. Someone to the left of him, a Strategos of some sort, wiped a tear from his eye. "Tomorrow, our most harrowing choice will be made once again. All wielders of the three disciplines must now choose a new archmage. May the Titans guide your hand." With that, the crowd began to disperse.

"Alexius, a word," said someone, just as Kutur was about to leave. He turned, and saw one of the exarchs, a stern orc who always kept the library strictly enforced. "I trust you have contributed to our library, with all the wisdom you've seen." Kutur fumbled about in his robes, and eventually pulled out one of his books.

"This is one I wrote, exarch," he said, handing it over. "It details the rise of the Son of the Dragons from the far continent."

"I'm not familiar with any of that name," the exarch muttered, adjusting his spectacles.

"It's quite new," Kutur explained. "He was once in talks with the Basileus himself." The exarch nodded.

"I trust your word, Alexius," he said. "I wish you well on the far continent. I have not seen it like you have, but I am told there is much unexplored there, and many evils. I hear of great rebellions, and cities burning to ash." Kutur gulped. A lot of what he said sounded familiar. "But as I said, I have not seen it like you have. I encourage you to continue observing this Son of the Dragons. For history."

"I promise," Kutur said.