Role

Chapter 8

I hold my bracelet sometimes and I just think. I try to remember. My earliest
memories of my mother aren't exactly fond, but having the closure is nice.
Knowing that she wanted to spend eternity with me as a disgruntled spirit
really means she cares. I talk to her a lot to try to catch her up on my
different strategies, and what it is I'm doing. Sometimes as I say things
they don't really make sense, but I think if they did make sense and every
action I took had a known consequence or reaction life would be pretty
boring.


I like to think of the Archmage as my father. Something funny though, I don't
really remember much about him. Any time I try really hard to picture his
face my memories place him as a bright and blinding light. I've never really
thought about it until lately. My earliest memories of my father are warm and
fuzzy, there weren't really any hugs or cuddles. There weren't any stories or
tucking in at night. But I had a room, and every now and again I would get to
visit part of his laboratory. He'd pull magic through me and I'd know love.
Such raw power, such exhilarating promise. I could feel it in my eyeballs, in
my nails, in my hair. I could count every drop of blood in my body during
these times because I was so acutely aware of myself. I think this helped me
with my shapeshifting, its possible I was even groomed for this. I don't
mind.


I wonder where he is now? Is he proud of me? Does he care?


I met an Archmage once named Argothus. There was certainly something familiar
about him. At the time I attributed it to the raw power radiating from his
body and the ease with which he breathed in mana and exhaled power. I wonder
if he is looking for an apprentice? I don't like thinking that I've peaked
and there is nothing else to learn. I love going through the old tomes in the
tower and discovering forgotten things. I wish there was some way I could
better project my magic outward instead of inward, but that isn't really the
path I took. I wonder if at one time I could have been Argothus's pet
project, or his familiar. Is he my father? It is silly to think about, but it
is possible. I think he would reveal to me such things if they were true, if
he wanted.