I would have thought that one so wholly committed to storm and fury
would arrive at a Grand Renunciation, yes, most certainly. It had to be
so. That itself does not surprise me. But a renunciation like this? Made
in front of a select few? Certainly the gestures are appropriately
grand: Noon laying down, in great solemnity, his armoury. He has had
renunciations before; we see for how long Noon wandered, without
allegiance, driven out from his own. It's in his background. During
those times Noon must have felt his blood sizzle in his veins. Perhaps
that was when the first corruption of his pure intention began; perhaps
that was the point when he dropped his guard, ever so slightly, and
pride arose in him, swelling like a gout or the site of a snakebite,
changing him so as to be almost unrecognizable. No, surely a Noon who
had suffered such things - who had converted grief, almost daily, into
swift, vindictive slaughter, who had spared so few, and offered so
little proof of his mercy - surely such a Noon would achieve
Renunciation, yes.

But not like this! Not told second-hand, through a spokesman! No, may it
not be so. Noon, if you are to renounce, renounce here, where we can all
see you.

I offer this missive with sincerity and respect.


Penned by my hand on the 12th of Haernos, in the year 194 MA.