Proctor Luciana's Journal, Vol 4

Original media : TES Online

By Proctor Luciana, 1E 2750 (?)

The personal journal of a high-ranking Clockwork Apostle

Date: 31 Last Seed, 1E 2750 (?)

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I kept this journal for Marius's benefit, but he's gone now. Twenty years gone. Time supposedly makes things easier—dulls the pain. But my grief is deeper now than it's ever been.

Busyness. Order. These things help. I threw myself into my work—marshaling the apostles into a stronger, leaner, more effective order. I cracked down on crime, published a treatise on Marius's alchemical experiments, focused on my spellcraft; but none of these accomplishments come close to filling gaping hole my son left behind.

I never told anyone what took place in the Cogitum all those years ago. People are rightly afraid to broach the topic. Even now, twenty years later, my anger glows white-hot.

Betrayal—that's the only word I can think of. I forded through the Centralis as quickly as I could, destroying any hostile factotum, fabricant, and mechanical trap that stood between me and Lord Seht. When I reached the Throne Aligned, I found Sotha Sil sitting on the stairs leading to his seat of power. He didn't even look up.

"I know why you're here," he said.

I was so naive then, I smiled and rushed toward him like a child. "Good!" I cried. "We have to move quickly. Marius is near to passing."

But Sotha Sil didn't stand up. He didn't even look me in the eye. "I am sorry," he said. "I cannot give you what you seek."

I stumbled over my words, trying to understand what he was saying. I just repeated myself like an idiot, thinking perhaps that he hadn't heard me. "Marius is dying. We have to get back to him as soon as possible!"

He stood up and pursed his lips before speaking. "I'm sorry," was his only reply.

We stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, I shook my head and whispered, "I don't understand. My body was ruined and you healed me. It's only Marius's heart that needs mending."

Seht approached, placed a brass hand on my shoulder and said, "You misunderstand. It is within my power to heal Marius, but circumstances make it impossible. I grieve with you, Luciana."

I looked up and there were tears in his eyes. I felt a great rage rise up within me. I reached for my hammer, and lifted it above my head just before Seht whispered a banishing word and sent me hurtling back toward the surface.

Marius died two days later. Sotha Sil remains in the Cogitum Centralis to this day.

The other apostles offered the same trite consolations I used to give to the grieving parents of men who died under my command in the Imperial Legion. "It was his time." "He lived a good and honorable life." On and on. But in my heart, I will never forgive Sotha Sil. Never. I will remain a proctor of the apostles. I will always safeguard the city I love, and uphold the laws and traditions of the order. But my adoration for the Clockwork God has shriveled and starved.

This is my final entry. For any who choose to read this journal, know only this: Sotha Sil gives and takes without consultation or mercy. Do not mistake his interest for empathy. Do not mistake assistance for authentic acts of kindness. Some are saved, others are sacrificed. That's just the way of things in the Clockwork City.