A generation can be delineated by many cuts, from as clear-set time intervals to a lifespan of a people. But, a generation is defined by the events of the times and the way they were changed and changed the world themselves.

There was the forgotten generations, the generations of the old now long forgotten. Barely a handful remain of a time long past, where history forgot. It was a time of beginnings, but it was a time lost to us.

Then came the Golden Age and the Golden Generation. The age of Exodio if you will. The great leaders, the master who bestrode the world like a colossus. By all accounts, the Children of the Light’s influence grew strong and powerful. The Order had a direction and they moved towards it with a vengance.

Then came the passing of the Leaders, and came a great Interval. That was my generation. We came, never knowing the Golden Age, except from old logs and repute. If anything could be characterized of the leaders, there was none. And we had few direction.

And Behind us came the New Generation. The Amadician Army kids. The leadership of the Council of the Anointed.

But to return to the subject, my generation was a generation of uneasy peace. True, we had an auspicious beginning. We were the idealists. We followed the code of RP. Those who could not would not find entrance. When I was an aspirant, I was grilled by Zulazie, by Echthelion. But those were the lessons we learned, drilled into us from the beginning.

We were bred for RP, but raised on PK. We met the beginning of the Wayraids. We met the onslaught of the revitalized Seanchan. We knew the land, we knew the tactics, and we knew the enemies. And what we did not know, we learned. The fight came to us, to Amadicia. We fought on our home soil, and we won. Each and every one of the generation had whet their blade before the age of 30, each had seen battle.

Alas, What were the events of our time? I can remember in the Fortress of Light, where resides a Fade patrol. It was a great injustice, and the worst, for Mangler had begun his raids based from Carridin’s horde. But, we were the idealists and we fought this. One day, I brought a group into the Fade. We killed the mobs, and I turned in the scalps and armor to the Lord Captain Commander. The next day I did the same. And the day after that. And others took up the cause. We led that crusade, and we brought it to public attention. We won that revolution.

But that time is over, and my Generation lies dying. There are the Old and the New, but few even remember the other generation. We have slowly faded away in time, ironically to be outlived by the older Golden Generation. They’re blood still flow strong, as members return periodically, like Diamond, Echthelion, Ramirez. But for us, our ranks thin. Carthage long deleted. Rajin long faded. Raylon swallowed in a great abyss. Leaving but a handful of those young angry men.

So why have we died while the older generations linger and the newer generations begin to take the reins of power? Perhaps it is the direction and leadership. The Golden Generation were united by a memory and the New Generation by the strength of their youth. But the generation between had found no leaders, and perhaps had become exhausted from their efforts. The young angry man had become the old angry man.

We have grown distant where once we stood strong. Inon and I had once conquered the world, from Almoth Plains to Illian to Haddon Mirk and beyond. But we have slowly lost touch as our generation faded, and only a ghost of memory linked our past.

This is my account of my generation, the Lost Generation like the Forgotten Generation of eons ago, in hopes that our memories and hope and aspirations survive. Never stop fighting. Hold onto the red-hot fire that burns in you. The New Generation has closed with the death of the Council. The dawn of a newer generation is at hand. Give them leadership. For the torch passes.