Aedus, Aedus, Aedus Kade.

Mythical man (boy, maybe. How old even is he, this emperor of the city's hopes?)

Aedus Kade: King-strangler, torch-bearer, lion-tamer, sky-spinner, sea-weaver.

He speaks every language.

He has swallowed the moon and courted the sun, and anything in his hands is a weapon, an instrument, an extension of that wild power in him that will save them all.

He is no ordinary man, already the muse of poets, of pens, portrait-painters, lie-makers, story-tellers. From one mouth to the next his name is spoken as if to say it yet again is to imbue new strength into whom it belongs (not that he needs it, right?)

Tell the story again of how he will emerge, how his heroism will grow. By firesides, frightened families sit and whisper of him as their champion. Because maybe if they tell him enough times that he is meant to save them, then he will.

It is Aedus Kade, he is the one. Yes.