Glory to Your Legacy

Glory to Your Legacy is an Artifact in the set Scarlet Proof.

Description

In theory, aside from the Belyi Tsar who accepted divine authority bestowed from on high, no other fae bears any responsibility to care for humans. Evidently, however, that has never stopped some among them from longing for human life. As though roaming freely across the tundra offered them no pleasure, and only bundling up in heavy coats and struggling to kindle a fire were truly worth enjoying.
In truth, Mirko was indeed one of those who chose to enter the human world. But he would never claim to love or admire humanity. He would only say that it was a remarkably farsighted decision.
He was fond of observing the world and drawing conclusions from what he saw. For instance, examining a group member by member could be a complicated affair, but generally speaking, they could be divided into three categories: the youngest, the oldest, and the hopeless lot in between.
Young fae, or young creatures of any other kind, tend to be very adaptable. They are often molded by their surroundings, then call it discovering themselves and finding purpose. Full of youthful fervor, they enlist in the military or devote themselves to research, doing their part to magnify the glory of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.
Once they pass an absurdly high threshold of age, however, they tend to adopt a different sort of noncommittal, go-with-the-flow attitude. When the Tsaritsa ascended the throne, for example, one of the first letters of congratulations she received came from the uninhabited reaches of the far north. Had it not borne the name of one of the princes, one might well have wondered whether its sender was still among the living.
As for those in between, perhaps they refused to believe that His Majesty had truly perished in the calamity, or perhaps they could not accept that the crown had passed beyond the hands of their own kind. Either way, their stubborn fury did manage to blaze rather fiercely, if only for a little while. Mocking one's own kin would generally be condemned as despicable, but Mirko simply could not help himself. There was little point denying it. After all, among the qualities by which politicians are judged, despicable is a remarkably mild one. Combine it with foresight, and it instead becomes the virtue known as knowing which way the wind is blowing.
After giving it some thought, Mirko decided to apply to join the Fatui.

In fact, he would be disappointed if the Tsaritsa failed to see through his intentions. Assuming, for the moment, that the witch still counted as human, this organization of self-proclaimed fools had yet to make room for a fae. Mirko had no intention of dressing up his motives as a struggle for the rights of all fae. He merely reasoned that, if a new world was soon to be born, he had no wish to find that it held no place for him.
The Fatui's response to his application was rather concise. "Mr. Mirko Radovidovich Veleshek," he read, "Please report to the Mayor."
Mayor Ioanna Ivanovna also served as Speaker of the Snezhnograd Veche, and different observers naturally drew different conclusions from the arrangement. To outsiders, compelling a fae to bow his head and become the pupil of a human was Her Majesty's warning to the old order. As for "The Rooster," his willingness to endure such an indignity for a seat among the Fatui could be taken as either naked ambition or an admirable ability to swallow his pride.
A far-sighted politician wouldn't rush to deny these interpretation. Ambition he certainly had, as evidenced by Speaker Ivanovna's high opinion of him making him a likely successor to her position. Indignities, meanwhile, he had suffered in no small measure. Ioanna Ivanovna was exceptionally skilled at weaving elaborate conspiracies while erasing every trace of her own involvement, and Pulcinella, perhaps on account of his short legs, initially struggled to keep up the pace.
All things considered, Pulcinella had learned all manner of things from humans, useful and otherwise: loyalty and the sowing of discord, strategic mastery and the appearance of it, a foul temper and how best to conceal it. Thus was he able to preside calmly over the Veche while wishing he could drive a spear straight through Pantalone's calf. Admittedly, he had been outmaneuvered when it came to lobbying the Adventurers' Guild. That was only to be expected when most of his own work was confined to Snezhnaya. Just you wait, he thought. That grinning madman might be the Guild's nominal president, but Pulcinella would not allow all its wealth and influence to fall into his hands.

Humans had also left their mark on some of the Domovoy gentleman's habits. After Ioanna Ivanovna's death, Pulcinella found himself considering who might one day succeed him. The thought was rather absurd, since with sufficient caution, he could probably live until the end of time. Perhaps one day he would grow weary of it all, weary of devising new ways to deal with his oddly assorted colleagues. Yet the ideal the Tsaritsa had once laid before them aligned with the greater vision he held in his own heart. He would have to endure at least until the day that ideal was fulfilled, would he not?
Of course, putting the matter of a successor out of his mind did not prevent Pulcinella from taking notice of a certain young man many years later. Ajax plainly lacked every quality required of a politician. For one thing, he had already chosen his master and had no desire to become anyone else's pupil. And if someone had to guide him, The Captain was clearly far better suited to the role.
And so, just as Ioanna Ivanovna had once watched him, Pulcinella watched "Childe" grow. After one morning meeting, he discreetly broached the subject with Capitano, who was preparing to depart for Natlan. The very next day, Pulcinella spotted Tartaglia's beaming smile from afar.
"Look! I just went to see The Captain off, and he gave me this..."
Pulcinella recognized the object in the box at once. It was one of the quill pens issued to soldiers during the Fatui's earliest recruitment. Its color had not faded even after several centuries, proof that it had been carefully preserved all this time.
Pulcinella nodded with a kindly smile. Like the future, passed onward from one hand to the next, this too was part of his foresight.

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Scarlet Proof Artifacts Flower of Life Honor to Your Devotion Plume of Death Glory to Your Legacy Sands of Eon Time Gifted Unto You Goblet of Eonothem Chalice of Your Blood and Sorrow Circlet of Logos Testament to Your Faith