They say to hold a Memory Blade is to live forever, both as a life trapped within the blade itself and as a Memory Lord to rule over one of the Five Cities – each one an immortal part of our nation’s history.

I say to hold a Memory Blade is to become an utter bastard, with the minds and memories of three dozen pricks inside your head, all encouraging you to do depraved and despicable things. It sounds like immense fun, sure, but could you really sell your own self-worth for a lifetime of endless pleasures? Probably best not to answer that.

Well regardless of my feelings on the matter, in less than twenty-four hours I am due to become the new Lord Warrior, the thirtieth lucky Thurat heir to receive the Warrior’s Heart, the Memory Blade which grants its wielder unrivalled martial ability and twenty-nine bastards inside my head, including my own recently departed demon of a father.

With the four other ruling Memory Lords coming to my city to witness the event, all I have to do is survive them all trying to politely kill me and pilfer my family’s Memory Blade. Nothing too difficult, I’m sure, especially not with dear Dusty helping me.

‘Dusty?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘You’ll make certain that no-one kills me before tomorrow, won’t you?’
‘I won’t indeed, sir, yes.’
‘Ah … right, well, let’s not dally any longer. Best to get this day over with and see who’s still alive by this time tomorrow!’