An Imperfect Circle

Letters to Amiliar Falling Brook - Part 1

Master Falling Brook,

I hope this finds you well. I hope you can accept my condolences for the loss of any of your men in our fight. I still believe in my heart there was no need to fight or for there to be a conflict. Still the loss of life pains me as much as my arm. I guess I wish my companions had more faith in me or that I was more eloquent.

There is a part of me, foolish I am sure, that hoped the Legion wished to talk to us about our mission to stop the Mask of Winters. I am sure you’re pissed about the Library. I am really sorry about that but if you were in my shoes how would you have reacted? Faced with knowing you are seen as a monster by others but you have such an important task to complete. Such a vital mission to protecting life and a lifetime of being hunted.

That is all I want to do, if you sum it up, really. Protect life. I have taken far too many for right and wrong reasons. The woman I call mother pushed me everyday to not be what people think I am. I’m just an orphan with demon’s blood who can do no more about how I was born as you can yourself. You didn’t choose your parents and the life they made you nor how you exalted. We’re just people, you and I, burdened with things greater than we are and the challenge to rise up and be better.

You saw a monster and you sought to kill it. I made the same mistake once long ago. I hunted monsters and thought myself a hero. You didn’t hear her screams though as I cut down her children under orders like you cut off my hand. You didn’t see her face full of grief and rage before her anima flared to life. The same mark you saw on my brow faded from hers when she died and a heartbeat later burned itself into mine. I am cursed, you see, to atone for the lives taken under the assumption that there are monsters in the world and that I wasn’t one of them.

So what are you?

By the time you get this we will have moved on. Like I said I hope it finds you well. If you question our motives I implore you ask the gods of Great Forks. We spoke with them and an emissary from the Walker in Darkness. I ask you to look to Puyo and the man who believed in our cause enough to risk sending us to Lookshy.

I’m not mad by the way. About the whole hand thing. We all learn and adapt. The bow was just more of me running from what I had done. I can’t anymore. I suppose I have to thank you for that.

Stay safe

PS: Your footing when you took my hand was kind of sloppy. You land like you have a stick up your ass and marbles in your boots. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the whole, you know, losing a limb thing; but, would a few sprint drills kill you? More practice for us both I guess.

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