There once was a king. His kingdom steadfast, his thrones unshaking, but without an heir. Young and flowing with length of hair, he sought to find the woman to give birth to a son.
God, hearing the plans of the wise ruler, rumbled, roared, and spoke in the night, “Cease your seeking, for your son will be born of God.”
“I am neither blessed with a woman nor have already had a child born of a woman. How may I receive a son from thee, my King and my God.”
Neither responding nor liking the ruler, the Lord did not respond to such inquiries and questioning.
The King held a sword and saw in visions that he must conquer the world to make way for the coming son, to rule all things and all worlds and seas. For he would be born of God, born of a woman unknown to all.
This, his intuition, was right, for God gives birth through humankind and not by means of spirits and ethereal beings.
For his thrones were not enough, his stature not great to reach the stature of the king to be born, his son, his only one, to be born of God.
Let us march to Ethermark to seek the counsel of angels and saints, the fortress protected by the spirit of Armen the Lion Bearer of Heaven. I will visit his grave and seek his might for only there will my grandfather bless me as before.
The company of the king filled with joy, the knights of his order surrounding, with swords shouted as one, Long live the Lion who saved the King!
These stories and myths buried in the soul of his people, it was only the evening prior that in the night sky, between shooting stars glorying in the heavens, he beheld the face of his father, telling him, Greatness is upon thee, remain holy and mighty.
He wept in remembrance of the throne of his predecessors bearing within the memory and flame of the King of Kings, father of the Lion Bearer, a lineage of kings born to protect the fortress of the saints, the city of God.
This is our charge, he shouted, love that issues from a pure heart! Let us go and love our fathers and mothers, come and march with me to honor the thrones that make us men today!
Amidst the uproar, a knight with silver plate spoke softly but abruptly, Lord, I ask one thing, that upon arrival, I may be with thee at the grave of the Lion Bearer, your grandfather.
The King looked down upon the servant, the knight, and said, Am I worthy to visit his grave? Are you? My child, I shudder before it, and if this be me the child of his son, what will become of you?
Lord, I only ask to be executed there, and buried in Ethermark as I am among the sons of his brothers.
My son, we bear no common blood, go and learn to fight again, for this speech is a result of fear of war. If there be any other in this hall with like claim but by those known to be of the children of my great uncles, let them be chained along with this servant now become slave.
Forgive me, my Lord, I only speak from my heart for here within my breastplate rests the gold of Vahanagir, that which was given by my grandfather to yours upon his arrival to his home, lost seemingly forever.
Do not speak of Vahanagir! This kingdom is laid upon its foundations, that holy name of the shield is a symbol of the victory of heaven over man and demon.
Here, my Lord, said the servant and knight, remember me beside the grave of your grandfather, for I have nothing left but this holy relic, this symbol of heaven, and a woman beside me, incapable of giving birth.
With neither heir beside him nor relic from the time, the King looked at him and said, Come, you may not worship with me, but you may die with me. Past Ethermark, we march to hell, for thrones be not enough for God, but hell’s head be.
My gratitude is without end for thee my Lord, in silence I will keep my guilt, but in sounds of thunder, with its bolts, I will fight to die beside thee.
My son, you know well the tales of our people, the lord of thunder may join us these days, for this is what we shall need to win the Lord’s heart.