Role

Chapter 10

I was within the village today, gathering myself between assaults. We hold the scepter
of the Scions now, and have for as long as I can manage to hold it. A young
girl, nearly a woman, of elvish descent, came and handed me a bit of meat, a steak
carved of the corpse of Borkahd. A better gift I have never been given in my
life. I offered my apologies to her, and though I was not forgiven, they were
accepted without the harsh recriminations I would have expected.

Perhaps then, this mortal weakness of mine has not rendered me so worthless,
so destitute of life as my spirit has felt. If the one who I wronged does note
judge me, if she has the kindness within her spirit to look upon one who failed her
with even the least bit of kindness, then perhaps...

Perhaps what? It is but one sin of many on my spirit. I cannot ask forgiveness,
nor do I merit it. And yet, what a difference one small, kind word makes.