Prologue: The Gift of a Journal

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The meeting had just ended. The Eternian forces leaders, who had been called to the meeting at such a moment's notice, were on their way out, heading to the airships that would take them to their posts located all across Luxendarc, the journals they had received in hand. Only one of the leaders still stood in the Council of Six's chamber, aside from the Grand Marshal himself: it was the sword master, Nobutsumi Kamiizumi, who held the most journals. Five in all; one for himself and four for the other asterisk bearers of the Black Blades

Facing the Templar, the sword master began to speak. "It seems you have put a lot of faith into your method," he began, placing the journals on the table nearby, as so he could place his hands upon his sword, habit in which was only natural to him now. "I hope you know that even if your journals are used, they won't be used correctly. They will simply be filled with whatever my comrades find dear to them: Praline's will be filled with her songs, Qada, his salves, and Barbarossa, his journeys. If anyone is to use the journals correctly, it would be Kikyo, but then again, she has never been the one to let on to her emotions."

"And what of you?" the Templar asked. "How do you plan to use your journal?"

"I have no plans to follow your order," was the reply. "You said to record information on interesting people, though the only ones I find interesting are the foes I am unable to defeat in battle. If that were to occur, then I would be dead." Picking the journals back up, the sword master left the chamber, leaving the Templar by himself.

* * * *

"Whaaat?" Praline's first words came when Kamiizumi returned. "You were called to a meeting to get books? The Sword bearers almost lost a battle while you were gone!"

"For that, I am sorry, Praline. But at least now we know you all are able to hold back the Shieldbearers in my absence." The performer promptly pouted when he turned from her and faced the rest of the Black Blades, ready to tell them of the meeting. "The Grand Marshal has ordered that we use these journals to record information on note-worthy adversaries or event. I have no intentions to follow his orders, and I leave the decision to you to use them correctly or not; though you will still want to take a journal." The journals were passed around, and soon a journal was in everyone's hands.

"Why bother," the salve maker stated disdainfully, tossing the book onto a nearby table. "It would be simply idiotic to write anything about my experiments down where someone could easily find it. I'm not using it."

"Very well. The next I see Braev, I will return you journal as well as mine. What of you, Praline, Kikyo, Barbarossa? Do you plan to use your journals?"

"I'll be keeping mine, captain!" Barbarossa proclaimed. "I could use another journal to keep a log while out at sea."

"I'll keep mine, too! I'll use it to finally make more songs!" Upon her exclamation, she began humming her song 'Love in the Crossfire' joyously, and the sword master's eyes shifted to the ninja. Kikyo said naught as she looked at the journal with hidden pleasure before slipping the book into her sleeve. He smiled faintly, even though he was unsure of whether she was to use it for her own purposes or by Braev's order, for he knew she would not say.

* * * *

In the other legions scattered around Luxendarc, reactions were much alike.

"I don't have time for writing! And if I did, I should be getting more buff instead!" the Monk proclaimed as he discarded the journal, unlike the two mages, black and white, who decided to use the journals, but not in the way to follow the Templar's orders.

In Florem, the red mage handed out journals to the Bloodrose Legion, and only one was left to be returned to Braev. Einheria decided to follow the given orders as best to her ability, and Artemia followed the Valkyrie's example, though she had long forgotten how to read or write. Mephilia was the only Venus sister to not take a journal, as she already had one.

And lastly, the Khamer & Profiteur Merchantry met in Ancheim. The spellfencer handed out the journals, and the ones to keep them were the spell fencer, himself, and the thief.

Though many accepted the journals, it seemed that none were about to follow the Grand Marshal's orders. The journals were theirs.

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