"I see them always, those faces of Seraph. I see them in life and I see them in death. I carry a hundred ghosts in my head, and each of them whispers their story to me."

From Blood on the Steel: the lives of Seraph
Bastian Ortega, once named Icarium, of the IXth Legion Astartes.

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Afio as I remember him, perhaps the closest to a brother I had amongst Seraph. Clad as most of us were in Mark IV plate, filigreed and decorated by his own hand but bearing the scars of war. Afio had a poet’s touch, a mind sharp in wit and deft in the creation of emotive works. He was, I think, the best of us, the ideal son of Sanguinius, beautiful in his wrath and as quick in his mind as our Father was on the wing. A member of the Blooded, the veteran cadre of Seraph, Afio had wrought the ruin of our foes for scores of years, honours heaped upon him as heavy as any cloak. He was the first of Seraph to draw blood against the Eaters during the Fall, and one of the last to die, still spitting his defiance into their faces but never succumbing to the Rage inside him. In that, he stood alone from Seraph in the end. For Afio, more than any other of Seraph, I weep.