Trynian leaned back into his chair, sending his brother away with a slight gesture of his hand. He closed his eyes and breathed somewhat slower while linking both hands in front of his face. Slowly, he became consumed in thoughts.

It has been several months.

Whatever we built back then, whatever ruled, it was righteous. Ever since the fall of the Vanguard Order, the city has lost every sense of authority.

Authority, the one demand for order. Those who have claimed they'd restore it, either ignored their true duties, or neglected the ones they should do their duty for.

When I walk through the streets, I see nothing but brawls, theft, insults, vendetta.
And noone with a clear reason to act that way. This is what we call chaos.
Unorganised forces from the past have been restored to a minor fraction of their power. They are nothing but a reminder of what once was, and have proven so.

I wonder who'd return. I wonder who'd be strong enough to try once more, or who'd be willing enough to forget about honor, for once. Slowly they crawled to a shell, searching safety in eachother's embrace. Will they unite and search safety in unity, again?

Who understood the necessity of a Vanguard legacy.

There is no authority. There is no unity. There is no force.
Soon, there will be nothing that keeps me from returning.

 Fortune favors the bold.

He held his hands on his back while walking towards the next room, where his wife and daughter were vast asleep. Stroking backwards the countless hairs on Edhellen's head, he smiled as she wrinkled her nose and sneezed. Unnaturally, she bended her arms behind her back, and kept them there before assuming her normal sleeping position.