05-12-2023, 02:05 AM
![[Image: 5b76e47217304a736aae63ffa79ca7b1.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/803879107032252456/1106396353594130502/5b76e47217304a736aae63ffa79ca7b1.png)
There is hardly much of mineself left, these long nights. The sound of mechanical parts shifting and whirring fill mine ears as I look down upon the great maps within the blistering Halls of Grimjhall. Mine heart continues to beat with much of mind blood flowing through tubing finely made and crafted by Sedirs, while mine very soul even still aches despite the foundations set to mend what was wounded and taken.
. .but even with that true, mine body burns akin to the great forges of mine home. A bellowing and blistering thing that threatens to tear me asunder every moment I walk.
A Gift. A Boon. A showing of the Oath I have made.
When I stare into the Eyes of the Shattered such is all I see reflected back to me. No mechanics and no flesh, merely the cosmos staring back at me. Like mine Grandfather before me. No longer do I doubt mine worth in such a manner- but often times I find mineself no longer thinking of me, for that is not what matters. It never had, truly.
I had never been allowed to be a boy. Once I was a Beast. Once I was an ill omen. Now to some whom look upon me, I cannot shield mine heart to the looks they give unto me- akin to family, of blood. Something I never was able to give upon those I looked upon who didn't turn away. Sons and Dottirs, many of them. They call me strong and look up to me but I cannot trust in mine strength as mine Father can..
But it does not hinder mine drive, for them. For their futures. I will give everything I can to see them survive the weeks to come and to inherit a proper realm they can live upon, so that they may one day have famlies- where children may grow up and simply be that. Children. Not soldiers like they were. Not numb and maimed by the world that is cruel and twisted.
True Faithful are willing to give all, just as He did. So hear me, and hear me well- brilliant Echo. Budding shard of mine Shattered Father.
I shall give mine all as I have sworn to see this come to light, for none other are willing to pay this price. I have paid much, but it is not enough. Not until I'm satisfied with what shall be inherited.
Thy Aether flows through me and I shall use every bit of it if I must, even if it scatters me as you once were scattered.
For them.
. . .
I will ask for the little ones to forgive me with mine final breath if I must, for mine vision is the world they deserve.
A Gift. A Boon. A showing of the Oath I have made.
When I stare into the Eyes of the Shattered such is all I see reflected back to me. No mechanics and no flesh, merely the cosmos staring back at me. Like mine Grandfather before me. No longer do I doubt mine worth in such a manner- but often times I find mineself no longer thinking of me, for that is not what matters. It never had, truly.
I had never been allowed to be a boy. Once I was a Beast. Once I was an ill omen. Now to some whom look upon me, I cannot shield mine heart to the looks they give unto me- akin to family, of blood. Something I never was able to give upon those I looked upon who didn't turn away. Sons and Dottirs, many of them. They call me strong and look up to me but I cannot trust in mine strength as mine Father can..
But it does not hinder mine drive, for them. For their futures. I will give everything I can to see them survive the weeks to come and to inherit a proper realm they can live upon, so that they may one day have famlies- where children may grow up and simply be that. Children. Not soldiers like they were. Not numb and maimed by the world that is cruel and twisted.
True Faithful are willing to give all, just as He did. So hear me, and hear me well- brilliant Echo. Budding shard of mine Shattered Father.
I shall give mine all as I have sworn to see this come to light, for none other are willing to pay this price. I have paid much, but it is not enough. Not until I'm satisfied with what shall be inherited.
Thy Aether flows through me and I shall use every bit of it if I must, even if it scatters me as you once were scattered.
For them.
. . .
I will ask for the little ones to forgive me with mine final breath if I must, for mine vision is the world they deserve.