Dear Friends:
We’ve established that Anton Kazirian’s call set Agni on his path—but what did that guidance truly mean? And more compellingly, what might Agni have become without it?
Let us set aside the simplest truth: without Anton’s call, Agni would have died.
Varenox would have struck him down in a barn, and no tale would follow. But support Anton had left Agni only with a compulsion to leave the barn for the night? No voice, no mentorship, no lingering presence.
What could Agni Kazirian have been?
A skilled warrior? Almost certainly. He carried warrior blood; his parents groomed him to wield sword and fist. The Borderlands would have forced him to fight or die. He would have trained, fought, and killed. Even his father’s beating would have taught him pain and discipline.
But Anton gave him more. He unlocked realms of possibility. He gave Agni vision and pushed him to his limits like a master coach. He connected Agni to emperors, not just knights.
A leader in the Black Moon War? Likely. The war between the Beloved of the Dragon never ended. When the embers inflamed again, Agni would have answered it. He had the skill to command.
But Anton gave him something no mortal could: perspective. The knowledge of centuries. A twisted morality made to revive an empire, not just win a war.
A general? Unlikely. Status rules in Solantia as elsewhere. Lineage defines reach. Agni was a minor noble from a backwater province. Even had he fought with skill and honor, the highest commands would have gone to greater names.
But Anton reconnected him to his legacy. Anton gave him pride in a forgotten name. While training in Eltrazan, Agni pursued his legacy in the grand library, and discovered the legacy of Orko Kazirian, and his claim to command. Without Anton, Agni might never have entered that library. Anton taught Agni to see himself as a great commander.
The High General and vanquisher of two nations? Never. Without Anton, would Agni have thought to humble kings? Anton did not only bequeath pride, he instilled a dark code. That any mortal conscience was naught next to the resurrection of the Empire Kazia. He burned Blevenia’s crops. He humbled King Theodore with the threat of forbidden magic that would make even Duke Verlan blanche.
When you line up these inflection points, a pattern emerges. Anton slowly invades Agni’s mind. First, he sharpens his scion. Guides him. Then, he elevates him. Changes him. Then, he breaks something fundamental and replaces it with a grand vision.
In modern parlance, he grooms him. One compromise at a time.
What’s left is a man unsure of who—and what—he truly is.
Because in the world of Son of the Borderlands, no power comes without a cost.
And Anton Kazirian always collects.