Memoir of Llyris mordane

Not a day goes by without some fresh-faced fool—usually young, usually arrogant—declaring they want to follow in my footsteps. Imagine that. Me, a role model. Absurd, really.

They hear my titles:

Archon of the Nameless Edict.

Arch-Judicator of the Empire.

And think, Yes, this is the man I want to apprentice under.

Once upon a time, people crossed the street to avoid my shadow. They whispered prayers that I'd never learn their names. Now? They seek me out like beggars at a banquet, hands outstretched, eyes glinting with greed. Ever since Princess Elenora—may her reign be long and her petty machinations brief—used my name to ward off suitors, the court's latest obsession has been:

Llyris Mordane, seeking a disciple.

And oh, how the desperate flock. My inbox overflows with grand declarations and unsolicited arrogance.

Self-proclaimed prodigies convinced that their 'unparalleled' talents are just waiting for the right master to unlock. Aspiring mystics, dreaming of bending ley-lines and harnessing the warp beneath my watchful eye. And, of course, the social climbers—the scheming nobles and desperate merchants, slipping veiled offers of wealth, secrets, even their own bloodlines in hopes of binding their fates to mine.

Some go further. Gold? Too common. Influence? Expected. A few—truly ambitious souls—offer themselves. Body, soul, firstborn included, wrapped in silken innuendo and sealed with desperation.

And it's all so… tedious.

So when the Writers' Guild suggested I pen a series of memoirs, I thought—why not? Not because I enjoy recounting my own life (I don't, trust me), but because it's a far easier way to silence the ceaseless tide of inquiries. I get paid, you get a glimpse behind the curtain, and with any luck, you walk away with just enough insight to stop flooding my inbox with drivel.

And if not?

Well, that's what void-fire incineration spells are for.

The truth is, I'm not looking for a disciple.

But for those sharp enough, talented enough, to glean the secrets buried within these pages? Well, I might just offer a few pointers. Consider it a test. A puzzle. A locked vault waiting for the right hands to crack it open.