Role

Chapter 1

Dearest Mother,

I suppose I shall place this letter at the site of your final rest.
When I heard, months ago, I did not know how to react. I never thought
that you would be taken from me so soon. I should have done.. something.
I could have brought you with me and we could have fought for Thar-Eris
together. Somehow, though, I know that you would have never raised a
hand in violence. That was the way you taught me. Perhaps there is too
much of my father in me. I have, with the greatest and heaviest heart,
struck against those whose actions tend towards goodness. Each time
it has happened, there has been some sort of extenuating circumstance
to lead to it. Sometimes its by accident, and sometimes its because
I am wanted by the law of the cities. It is a demon within myself that
I have to face. It gets hard to sing of dreamy romanticism. Such was
I raised that killing sickens me, even if the person has the darkest
of hearts. The only way I can do it is to drink myself into a stupor,
making everything seem... surreal.

Innis the Sunborn has been a boon to my spirit. Yet, with his leaving
and return, I feel more distant from his presence. It is not as though
I do not hold the reverence of life within me, or the desire to strike
against evil, or even the precepts of the Ancients, but sometimes it
feels as though I fail them all. Perhaps I am not cut out for the ways
of heroes. Can I be brave if I'm too drunk to realize what I'm doing
harms others? Can I be wise if, time and again, I strike against the
Spire and Empire and yet deter none from their wicked paths? These
questions float in my head and I do not know the answers.

It has struck me now that you are dead. I will never be able to feel
the warmth of motherly embrace from you, nor share the secrets that
mothers and daughters are so fond of conspiring with. My heart breaks.
Farewell, mother. Rest well in Thar-Eris' earthy bed. When it is my
time to pass on to the Primeval Dream, I shall leave this world a
better place, as you have exampled for me.

With tears, love, and sorrow,
Chaisse