Ulrich von Lichtenstein III

***"Excerpt from the Journal of Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein the Third"***

Only I remain.

My brothers were meant to rule. At least that's what father used to say.

My oldest brother, Stefan, was the unrivaled battle mage. We called him The Laughing Storm. Fearless and confident, he would dance his way around tournament grounds, slashing and spraying his battle magic with an easy nonchalance. I still can hear his booming laughter bouncing off the Arena walls. No one could stand before him in his prime. He was a natural born leader. My oldest brother. Mother always worried about his adventures, but we laughed it off. We felt safe. We had each other's love.

My other brother, James, was the miracle doctor. He was known to have rescued countless patients from death's door. People came from far and wide for him to lay his healing hands upon them. He cured afflictions of both mind and body. He truly had the love of the people. His cult status as a skilled healer was again a concern for mother. She always said that prophets never died. They are killed. Again, we laughed her worries away as one of us would scoop her up in our arms and twirl her in a hug as only a grown child can hug his mother. Life was good.

No one ever talked about me. They were not supposed to. Outsiders to the family would label me as the runt, the squib. My family had created the rumor, but they knew better. They loved me. My parents loved me like they loved my brothers. My brothers who were meant to rule.(edited)

I miss Stefan and James. They always knew what to do. I looked up to them. Watched them work hand in hand across our father's lands. They were Shiva the Destroyer and Vishnu the Preserver. The great balancing act. They were the future of our House. And I was nothing. At least I was supposed to be.

I was neither Shiva nor Vishnu, I was nothing. I was the theoretical insurance policy, the nuclear Plan B. I always felt that my secret was as powerful as my brothers. But it was not as glamorous. It couldn't be. It only worked if no one knew.

How did my brothers and I get these secrets? Mother and Father naturally. But how did they ever get them? They were a gift supposedly. Neither of my parents ever talked much about the source. They only said we should be thankful to be blessed with such an opportunity. We were thankful. We thought we were blessed.

Stefan was blessed with The Eldest Wand. His fighting style could hold its own in most fights, but his special wand tipped the scales in any battle. It was ancient. It carried an ancient power. Legends tell of the Eldest Wand of Power, the first Wand. It is only fitting that Stefan, eldest born and heir apparent to my Father, should bear such a massive responsibility of power. He held it well.

James was blessed with the Resurrection Stone, outfitted as a nondescript jet black ring. His studious nature and intellect earned him the respect of his professional colleagues, but the Resurrection Stone gave him the cherry on top of his miracle making status. James' childhood mentor, our imperially conditioned family doctor, Dr. Yueh, even acknowledged the fully matured James as an equal in the medical field.

Nobody outside the family knew that my brothers relied heavily on powerful artifacts to achieve their goals. Worthy goals they had indeed. However, the accomplishments of the artifacts cultivated notoriety for my brothers. This was their undoing. Their responsibilities necessitated the open nature of their craft. They had to play the hand they were dealt. They could not hide like I could.

My artifact was different. It was a cloak of true invisibility. My parents called it Death's Old Friend. This was no simple garment with a illusion charm woven into the fabric. No counterspell or energy field could disrupt it. People near me would even seem to zone out as I put it on. Their eyes would become glossy, almost lost in thought. It was like I ceased to exist. Perfect for a nobody.

Growing up I did not learn about politics, military tactics or medicine as my brothers did. I learned about one thing and one thing only: Survival.

It has proven to be a lonely path as time goes by. I sometimes wonder if I should have allowed myself to die with my family. There would be no guilt. No doubt. Silence. Nothing.

The Emperor's official statement is that nobody survived the native's terrorist attack. That's almost true. The natives were used as a scapegoat since they had no voice in the Judicial System to object to the allegation. The natives will be slaughtered for this just as my family was slaughtered. In a single fireball.

I was nobody before the explosion. In the murderous gale of the fireball I became somebody. My entire family was vaporized as I ran silently away, too terrified at the moment to feel grief. I had to run, it was according to our plan. Our insurance policy. Plan B. I survived.

Why did my family die? The Emperor allowed it, though he will never admit it. It was House Malfoy that instigated it. It had to be.

I remember the day my Father received the royal decree from the Emperor, my father's own first cousin. It was a tempting offer. Also a veiled threat. The Emperor proclaimed that House Lichtenstein would henceforth assume command of the lands, titles, and privileges of our sworn rivals, the Malfoys. My family's information network had heard nothing from our spies in the Malfoy household about this changing of the colors. This worried my father. Why would our enemies give us their lands without a fight? The obvious answer is that it was a trap.

I asked my father why we would knowingly walk into a trap. He said that knowing about a trap is the first in avoiding it. He told me that we were inheriting a potential fortune if we played it smart.

The Malfoys had historically held titles for the Mines of Lessia, the world's largest source of the rare earth metal Unobtainium. The government tightly regulated the sale of this costly metal. I am not sure why. I think they did not want anyone to know why. Secrets, everyone has them.

After my father finished his explanation to our family, there was a stunned silence in the room. I sat up and told him that I wanted to stay home. I didn't want to move. He told me that it is okay to feel fear, but that I must be brave. He always told me to be brave.

Together my family recited the Lichtenstein mantra:

*" I must not fear.*

*Fear is the mind killer.*

*Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.*

*I will face my fear.*

*I will permit it to pass over me and through me.*

*And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.*

*Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."*

Only I will remain. Me, the insurance policy, the Plan B.

Why would the Emperor side with Baron Malfoy over my father, the Duke? Maybe the Emperor saw my father's charisma as a political threat. Maybe the Emperor saw my father's newly trained death commandos as a military threat to his own royal bodyguards. I will never know.

All I know is that the Baron died. I watched him die. I still feel the warmth of his blood as I laughed without reserve over his bewildered stupid face. His eyes bulging with fear and confusion as his pupils darted left and right, unable to make sense of his predicament. Did he die of blood loss or lack of oxygen? Is there a difference? I don't care. He is dead. And now I am somebody.

I know I am somebody because my secret left me. Maybe I became unworthy of it. Unworthy of having nothing, being nobody. Maybe the cloak was never meant to be used in a vengeful murder. Death's Old Friend had its own values, its own ambitions.

The day of the ceremonial transfer of power between Houses Lichtenstein and Malfoy came too soon. My father, Duke Eddard von Lichtenstein, stood opposite the grass field from Baron Leopold Malfoy. Both lords had a small elite military company as escort behind them. My father's men had scanned the grounds prior to our arrival for evidence of a trap. There was nothing. It seemed the Malfoys were not as daring as Father suspected.

The truth is that their depraved nature knew no bounds. Their reliance on hatred was such a foreign mode of thought to my family that we never saw their trap. The traitor was James' mentor, Dr. Yueh. My entire family knew of the doctor's hatred for the Malfoys.

Five years ago Dr. Yueh's wife was captured by the Malfoys in a raid on one of our colonies. We all knew that she would be tortured due to her husband's station within our House. We all gave him space when anyone mentioned the Malfoys. I can still see the way his jaw would clench, his face go white, his eloquent articulation devolve into stammering. We thought his hatred bonded him to us. In reality it twisted him into a knife that plunged itself silently into my family's heart.

The Malfoys had secretly contacted him. They sent him pictures of his still-living wife in such a grotesque display of tortuous instrumentation that he broke. Fully broke. His Imperial Conditioning that supposedly prevented him from being mentally manipulated in any way was side-stepped. The Malfoys bypassed the fabled Imperial Conditioning through sheer evil and utter darkness.

No one could have imagined their schemes. Only someone with true darkness within them could have seen this coming, could have prevented it. I was too weak to see it coming and now my family is dead. Only I will remain.

Never again will darkness destroy my world. No. I have learned. I will enter into the world of Darkness to learn. Grow. Thro gg my passion my power will grow. Through my anger I will find the answer to my enemies. I will see as they see, I will predict their every move. I will destroy them. Only I will remain.

Dr. Yueh left a microletter in a pill capsule within my pants. I did not even feel its presence until the time-release activated and it expanded in my pocket. He never expected me to forgive him, nor will I. He did try to explain himself. The coward.

He explained how he drugged all our House's breakfast food. That the paralyzing agent should kick in right at the time of the ceremony. He knew to the minute when the paralysis would kick in. He knew our body weight, body fat percentage, height, everything needed for a controlled dosage. He was our family doctor. He was family. We loved him. He betrayed us.

He explained that the Malfoy army landed and took over the ceremonial field as the entire Lichtenstein family and military company fell paralyzed to the ground within seconds of each other.

I fell to the ground with my family. I tried to scream for my mother to run, my dear mother, but she instead turned towards me and stumbled to the ground beside my feet. My mother had always warned us about the dangers of the world, now she the victim of it with us. I thought of all the times we laughed away her fears. I am sorry mom. I am so sorry.

I awoke that afternoon to a dizzying silence. I am not sure how long I lay in a daze before realizing I could see the sky. The deep magenta of the horizon told me at least hours had passed. Then I smelled the smoke. I sat up and immediately realized that my invisibility cloak was draped over my body. Weird, I hadn't had the time to pull it over me as I fell. Then I remembered my mother, arms scraping the ground towards me as I lay paralyzed. She must've used her final moments to pull my cloak from under my shirt and spread it over me. Her final act was to save me. My mom.

The rest of my family and our attending guards had been dragged to the main house of the Governor's manor. He could see the Malfoys unloading dead native bodies around the manor. Something was being staged.

A few minutes later I heard shouting between the Malfoy soldiers. They were clearing out. Was my family already dead? Then I saw the last soldiers running. I recognized the demolition insignia on the crew's shoulder pads as they ran out. No. No. No. I got up and started running. Away. I don't know where I was, but I had to get away from the house before...

I can still feel the pressure bubble of the explosion as it slammed into my back. The entire manor, my entire family, vaporized in an instant.

I made it to the Malfoy camp that was set up a mile away. I still had my cloak around my shoulders and my hunting knife in its sheath at the small of my back. The Malfoys were packing up. There would be an "investigation" by the Emperor. The Malfoys had to play the part and clear out.

I was sweating, unable to process what had happened. I knew I had to act quickly. The Baron's tent was in the center of the camp. I could easily identify it by its sheer opulence in comparison to the other tents. I simply had to walk in between the two posted guards. The energy field in the doorway was designed to dispel any illusion charms for would-be assassins. Death's Old Friend laughed at their flawed assumption.

I walked into the tent to find the Baron asleep. Too easy. He had to know it was me, Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein. Duke Eddard's youngest son, the runt, the squib. I tossed my invisibility cloak aside as a fever took me by force. I began laughing. Uncontrollably. He awoke suddenly as I stood over him. His eyes went wide as he recognized a stranger alone in his room. He barely had time to sit up before my knife buried itself in his esophagus. I twisted the blade and started to cry.

I don't know why I cried. Maybe for my family. Maybe because I had killed someone with my bare hands. I looked around the room to distract myself from my deed and saw the glint of gold. Without thinking I grabbed as man sacks of it as I could fit in my clothes. This murder would not be pointless. It would give me exile funds.

As I turned to leave the room, I realized that I had not bothered to note where I had dropped my invisibility cloak. Was it fate that Death's Old Friend left me as I sent a soul to the beyond? I heard footsteps approaching the entrance to the tent. Quickly I found the one-way disguised back door that noble tents always had near the bed and slipped through the sphincter.

I heard shouting in the tent as I ran. By now it was night. The glow of torches lit up behind me in the distance. They had to leave soon before the official Imperial investigators arrived. In the confusion of the hasty departure and the Baron's assassination I escaped into the night.

A month later and I am living at a cheap inn. If there is one thing I am good at, it's being discreet. I spent my whole life preparing for this moment, hoping I would never have to.

I realize now that the remaining Malfoy estate will stop at nothing to find their beloved Baron's murderer. I have to disappear. For good.

My chance of long term survival was at an all time low. I couldn't escape the area without a Malfoy checkpoint stopping me. And they were searching everywhere, everything. I decided that since I was as good as dead, I may as well hope for a miracle. I used my remaining stash of gold to buy as many lottery tickets to this place called Hardholme as I could possible could. Anywhere was better than here. A rat awaiting its inevitable capture and demise. The Center for Science and Magic was within walking distance of this inn. I wouldn't have to bypass any checkpoints if I could simply bypass this reality. This reality that was too real.

I barely registered a smile as I saw the winning ticket flash in front of my face, it's glow radiating hope. I have a way forward. And now I am somebody.

## On the Ship

***"Excerpt from the Journal of Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein the Third”***

Fuck.

I am going to fucking die right now. I actually really want to die right now. If I could just get my light back, I wouldn’t want to die anymore. Everything hurts and there is only one thing in the world that will make me okay. Where is it?

I cannot sleep. I fear I am getting sick. I hope this is not contagious. I fear what the others think of me. No one has said anything, but surely they can hear me screaming as I wake up from nightly terrors. All my frequent trips to the bathroom. Even if they cannot hear my vomiting into the toilet, they surely smell the diarrhea. At least my lack of appetite saves food for the rest of the crew.

I never realized that I used to be warm all the time. I only realize it now because it’s so freaking cold on this ship! Growing up I was constantly bundled up. Even my face was typically hooded or wrapped unless we were having a private family gathering. Mom and dad never wanted any outsiders to know that I was a champion of light, a Scourge Aasimar. That would not fit for the urchin that they trained me to be.

My parents had assigned me the role of survivor before I was born. How could they have known that I would pop out of my mother’s womb radiating golden light? What at first appeared to be a complication proved to be no matter at all. My parents realized that they wanted me to be obscure anyways, so wrapping me up from head to toe in cloth anytime we went in public worked out perfectly. We always thought we were blessed.

But now my light has gone.

There is a shadow in me. Shadow, and silence. It has been over a month since my guardian last spoke with me. Galladia! Where are you? She was always so outspoken and righteous. But now I hear nothing. I fear that I will never get through this. Are aasimar supposed to be vengeful? Are they supposed to murder? I fear that I am doomed.

***"Excerpt from the Journal of Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein the Third”***

At last! I know what I have become.

I read many stories while growing up in my family’s library. The endlessly tall stacks of scrolls and bound books were easy to get lost in. Something I do well.

As a child, I often looked for stories of Aasimar. I wished to know of others like myself. One night in my teenage years I ventured into the restricted section. Why were there books that mom and dad did not want us reading? My parents always encouraged us to be curious, so this seemed out of character.

The first books I opened proved to be accounting records for our noble House. Taxes, inventories, payroll, nothing of interest. Then I hit the jackpot.

There was a book about me! It was a complete compendium of every known Aasimar in Davros. Next to each Aasimar’s name was a description.

Protector. Scourge. Protector. Scourge. Protector. Scourge. Fallen.

Wait.

What was that last one?

Fallen…

I still remember getting grounded the next morning when I asked mom and dad what a Fallen Aasimar was. I suspect to this day that they had been informed of my little escapade in the restricted section. I will never know though.

The childhood punishment was well worth it. For now I know what I am.

I have become a Fallen Aasimar.

As I went through my transformation, I did not know what to make of myself. I thought I was dying. I thought Galladia was punishing me for my brutal vengeance. I now know that she has punished me. She punished me by leaving me. Now I have shadow where once there was light.

But I accept myself. In part, I have Carric to thank. His music at first served as a distraction from my depression. Then, as I was overcoming the worst of my transformation, he gave me a handful of vegetation that has forever changed my life.

Magic mushrooms he called them. And magic they were. At first I panicked when the psychedelic effect hit me. I was in survival mode after all, and suddenly I was disoriented. It was like the walls around me that I had become all too familiar with were all new. New, and yet not new. It was like every angle of every corner had been skewed such that I could barely notice. Was the table always that thick? Did my bedsheets always have the design woven into the fabric? I guess so. All I know is that my slate has been wiped clean. All the depression, all the sickness, gone! In its place I have found a childlike sense of intrigue for the world around me. I have hit a hard reset.

As I came down from the mushrooms I finally worked up the courage to walk into the game room. Lo and behold! Fitz and Buckler were playing my favorite childhood boardgame. Chess! Aw ye, it’s on like Donkey Congo!