Role

Chapter 9

As she looked across the tables to the crackling fireplace, Kytria saw a
glimmer of her future lurking within the shadows of the flames. She would be
at home here, and beholden to none of the cabals that had destroyed those she
loved. In this place, she could listen to the stories of other adventurers and
help them find meaning - and remembrance - in their pain. If she didn't remind
them of what it would feel like to lose the voices of the lost, who would?

She continued to stare, allowing the voices of the Heralds to fall to the
wayside as they spoke of a dragon that they had killed. She saw Melirene's
fallen body, Conren's pendant, and Tisus' coat within the darkness, demanding
something from her. They screamed with voices that were not their own,
demanding that a price be paid. Remembrance alone was not enough. Memories
would not expose the caballed hypocrites for the lives they had destroyed.
Kytria knew that she could. She could judge the living... and let the unworthy
slip away, isolated from her prayers that would turn the tide of the fight.

With her mind made up, Kytria began to craft a new version of herself - one
made of patchwork stories and tales that she had repeated since she was young.
She was Kytria, the charismatic daughter of a sailor who had died in a tragic
kraken attack. She was here to counsel others and heal the wounds of the soul.
She would listen to everyone and learn of those who stood by and watched her
siblings perish. In time, the world would know her pain. In time, they would
face the true cost of their wars and promises.