Fragile Illusions

[Malxe]

It's another scattered page...

"They're next."

Well...
Suppose he was right. They really were next. At least we can say we took the fight directly to them. At least we proved something to ourselves. That we were going against impossible odds. Enough was enough, though. Tyranny was venerated and loomed over us all for far too long. Somewhere in that disgusting display must have born some ideal. Someone must have saw us. Someone with the ambition and power to actually achieve what we hoped for.

Right?

No. Even as I write these words and choose to believe them, hope died that day. Aeric died with it.

Hope.

Just another fragile illusion.

Everyone's back now. I missed them so much.
It feels hollow though. Unearned.

History will never know what we stood for. It's always written by the victors. They'll be called Oathbreakers. Death magi. Witches. Villains. That's all they'll be called. It's times like these I'm glad my name won't be remembered in the future. No one will care to tell the next generation of my failures. No one will care to enough to vilify me in the end - no matter how much good one tries to do.

Everything feels so hollow.

In the wake of his life I chose to follow his people. To try my best to take care of them. Even if they were all so blinded by that destitution that they walked right into the hands of those that turned their back on them. Whatever ounce of pride I have left got shoved to the side just to keep that dream alive - even if it was stolen without the slightest recognition of the irony.

Now? I'm right back where it all began. Standing in a fledgling town that will forget me as soon as the first stone is laid. History repeating over and over again.

I'm their perfect pawn, again.
I'm their pretty little mascot, again.
I'm a shadow of what I should be, again.
Again, and again, and again I am a victim to other's whims with no escape.

Last time we wrote? I said I didn't fail you. I take it back.
I'm not happy.

That's not a fate reserved for me.