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What Remains
​of Edmond Fisk


DAY 1 OF THE YEAR OF EDMOND

The jagged shores of Jarlheim glinted in the morning sun as my ship came in to land. “Onward, fellow conquerors,” I spoke to my loyal friends, “for today the White Cliffs of Jover are ours!”

“Huzzah!” my men cheered, for they followed the mighty King Edmond into battle!

When I was betrayed by who I thought was my best friend, these three champions stayed loyal to me. Braesin the Barbaric, Orest the Wise, and Hallstein the Unkillable stormed off the boat behind me. They never left my side when my mind Jarlheim turned against me. They were true loyal friends.

And now my kingdom of Jarlheim was before us. I had left my home but never abandoned it, for I sought revenge on the tyrannical King Tothiliand. He usurped me from my home and trapped me. He used a beautiful maiden to do that. But now I shall reclaim my kingdom!
​
As I and my fearless champions scaled the white cliffs, a call came from above. “King Tothiliand, look! The coward Edward has come running to us. Shall we fire the flaming arrows?”

“Of course,” said Tothiliand. “That coward deserves eternal damnation. Fire!”

Over my head came a hail of arrows to cast a shadow over the cliffs. I’d have been done for, if not for the loyalty of my faithful men.

“Worry not my liege!” said Hallstein the Unkillable as he climbed above me and bore his shield, catching the arrows headed for me.

“Take this,” Orest spoke, handing me a painting of a freckled maiden in a dark chamber. “This is a magic painting. You may trap the souls of unworthy cowards within it, but be warned. To be trapped here is to suffer a fate worse than death. Should you trap yourself inside, to escape you must—”

Right then a flaming arrow struck him through the heart.

“No!” cried I. “Leave me not, Orest, my loyal friend. Especially not with such incomplete instructions!”

“Come closer,” Orest beckoned, and I brought my ear to his lips. “To escape you must…”

That was the last he ever said.

“Orest!” cried I. “How do I escape? How!” But it was over.

“Men!” cried King Edmond with tears of sorrow streaking his face. “Toth is Tothiliand is to blame for all my suffering. A cease of sorrow will only be achieved with Tothiliand’s head on a pike! Onward, gentlemen. Charge!”

Then I awoke.

I was in the bed, the sheets wrapped tight. Normally, when I am torn from my heroic conquests in Jarlheim, my eyes never open, I simply continue the dream in my mind.

However, the death of Orest the Wise spurred in me a longing for remembrance. With my past life now naught but faint glimpses of a dream long ago, I feared my memories of Jarlheim would suffer the same fate. And so, though I pained to stay in the Chambre, it offered me one benefit: this journal. Because the days I spend here are much less significant than those spent in Jarlheim (and because I forgot to keep counting), I will switch to a new dating system. Today officially marks Day 1 of the Year of Edmond.
​
Today and every day hereon, I shall awaken to record the tale of King Edmond, his loyal friends, and their legendary adventures through Jarlheim.
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