The Journal of a Liar - Valette Montelione / Naroa DeGray (Deceased)

[Whatever]

2086

I was rummaging through my old things and I found this journal. I had forgotten about it. Forgotten about much of its contents. It seems many memories have become lost to me. Reading my own words feels like the imaginings of a stranger. I changed, but that is hardly unique to me. I would like to believe I healed my wounds and grew from hardship, but my own perspective is a biased one. Perhaps whatever awaits me will judge me from an impartial perspective. 

I was never a perfect person, rather I was and remain deeply flawed. I have failed in so many ways. Yet would I have strayed from this path I walked? I'm not sure...

The last of my belongings have been packed away. My treasured baubles will go to a few select people. A lifetime of memories contained in strange cultural artifacts. It is funny, but despite traveling so far in my lifetime, I have hardly seen a thing. I have been to the edge of the world, only to find it keeps going. Further and deeper into the miasma of a mystery I will never get the chance to solve. For that would be a collaborative effort and it is generations too soon. 

Perhaps in my next life I will maintain the adventurers spirit. Although I pray it is a kinder, more humble life.

I have sealed my home off from the planes, in effect turning into my tomb. The Serum is about done brewing now. The fumes are enough to make me light headed, but that is a good sign. It means the effects will be quick. Not many have the choice of deciding how they go. It has been a long and rewarding life, for all of its faults. I look forward to what comes next. I am grateful I can have that outlook.

There are so many old faces that I am overdue a reunion with. It is time to pour my last lonely cup of tea.

I am at peace with my choice.