Memories don’t always do you a whole lot of good. Remembering things, though. That’s what’s important.
The Valediction. Just another one of my sketches. Nothing more.
The Dynasty. To the families of the City, all reunited.
The Culture. A still-life of old unwanted keepsakes.
The Service. For all the men and women who served Caelondia.
The Country. She’s all to pieces now. But still looking good.
The Mercy. The Windbags ain’t the only beasts that drew a bad lot.
The Masons. We built the City strong. Now there’s only two of us.
The Breakers. Ain’t no one could outrun them, or their arrows.
The Trappers. Daring bunch of fools. They’ll be missed.
The Menders. They had thankless jobs. The most important kind.
The Gravers. The arm of justice. They seemed unstoppable.
The Marshals. Kept the City’s peace. They can rest easy now.
The Slingers. The Wilds were their calling.
The Brushers. They moved in shadows. But the Calamity found them.
The Triggers. My brothers. Bravest men I ever knew.
The Cinders. Kept the City good and warm. Made it thrive.
The Skippers. Delivered us from the Motherland.
The Mancers. They knew everything. Even if it cost them.
The Inspiration. A forge can fashion anything.
The City. Its riches nothing but fragments now.
The Conscience. We haven’t lost everything long as we have that.
The Sanctuary. If we can build, we can rebuild.
The Faith. Mother, this one’s for you.