Clementius, the Weaver.


How is it such a simple name, could have so profound an impact upon
those who have grown with it in their minds, and in their souls?


Perhaps it is the simplicity of it itself, that lends it to become
engraved upon our beings. He was a God to be admired. His realm
encircled the entire Achaean culture, and for a long time, made him an
icon to be revered and exalted.


But Clementius asked for nothing in return. He wished to exist without
being placed upon a pedestal. And it was because of this, his adamant
refusal for personal glory, that we each began to look at ourselves in
turn. We became better people. Through his unseen ways, he gifted us all
with a new pair of eyes in which to view the world. He hoped, that we
would all grow.


Wherein lies the question: Have we grown?


And the answer to that is an intangible solution, ever-flowing, and
ever-changing. To some, the answer is yes. To others, no.


I am so proud to have a part of the legacy he wrought from his tenure
here. So proud to remember the sheer impact his simple, yet
extraordinary philosophies have endured to this day. He was a man that
each and every person here could look up to. He was the pinnacle of
perseverance, and the epitome of understanding. He never condemned, he
never pointed fingers, and he was always willing to help those who
wished it, or needed it.


He is gone from us. Gone after places of which we can only dream of. He
has found his path, and he yet still walks it meekly.


Yet in his wake, he has left sorrow and confusion. For those of us who
knew him, we have mourned of his departure for innumerable lifetimes.
And for those who knew him not, he remains the juxtaposed figure of
history. To them, he is simply someone who helped shape our world.


But from the ashes of his advent, he has also left something far more
valuable.


He left a progeny.


He has changed the world by action alone. He has shown so many how
mighty a weapon compassion can be, and also how much value kindness can
become. In each one of us, there lives a part of him. A part that
recalls what it means to be alive, and to make every second count.
Clementius has not truly left us. And he never will. And so I pen this
to the world to announce that his memory is one of the most sacred
facets of society. He has raised some of us up to as high as a person
can be. And he has mercifully spared those who have sunken into the pits
of despair. He is that tiny ray of hope that will always shine no matter
how dark. And this legend, lives on in us all.


I applaud you, fair Weaver. Your time was short, yet oh-so-sweet.


So remember, ye who read this written word, do not give up hope. For
when one gives up that last ray of hope, one admits defeat, and
Clementius will cease to exist.


Comfort the afflicted.
Afflict the comforted.

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Sarapin, in the year 499 AF.