February 17, 22,504 B.F.P

Today, a chapter of agony has been etched into the annals of our realm's history. The resounding clash of battle, once a cacophony of valor and steel, was transformed into a dirge of sorrow as news reached us that our revered sovereign, my father and king, had been sundered from us. The battlefield, where honor and courage were our companions, now bears the weight of tragedy as we mourn a loss too profound to articulate.

Our estimations, wrought with the hubris of our past victories, faltered in the face of an unexpected adversary—a dragon force led not merely by brawn but by an intelligence we had woefully underestimated. The gravity of this misjudgment unfolded before my very eyes, as did the desolation of my brother, Kodron. The contours of his gaze absorbed the horrors of the battlefield, leaving an indelible mark upon his spirit.

In the wake of our father's fall, Kodron's countenance underwent a transformation both unfathomable and profound. His once steady blade hung dormant, and the fire that had ignited his every movement was quelled. As the tide of battle shifted against us, a painful decision coalesced within my heart—a retreat, a retreat that marked an abandonment of the field where valor had once been our hallmark.

And yet, the destiny of that day swayed with the cadence of an unforeseen symphony. Kodron, crestfallen and transformed, ascended a hillock that overlooked the expanse of Bandirn. There, amidst the battleground's echoes, he unleashed a primal cry—a cry that transcended mere worzien resonance. Its timbre resonated with an uncanny familiarity, akin to the mighty roar of a dragon, a beast both revered and feared.

In that audacious moment, the very fabric of the battlefield rippled with an otherworldly energy. The draconic utterance seemed to carry an enigmatic language that resonated with the heartbeats of the dragons themselves. As if summoned by some mystical communion, the dragons, once harbingers of our peril, paused in their assault. Kodron's cry held dominion over them, and as it ceased, they yielded to a command beyond our mortal ken.

The dragons, creatures of awe and majesty, prostrated themselves before Kodron's resolute stance. This unforeseen obeisance heralded an astonishing reversal of fortune. The tides of battle shifted anew, and we, the bereaved and grief-stricken, found ourselves ascending from the precipice of defeat. Through an unfathomable fusion of sorrow and the inexplicable, we triumphed, our victory underscored by the very beings that had once been our adversaries.

And so, with hearts heavy yet emboldened, we emerged from the crucible of conflict. The echoes of our losses still reverberate, intermingling with the cries of victory. My soul bears the scars of this day's tumult, for the jubilation of triumph and the lament of loss are threads intertwined within the tapestry of a monarch's soul.