I, Who Would Be Better

[Titania]

[the quiet sorrow of knowing you are distinct and alienated]

There are many paths forward, as far as I am able to tell. Investiture into the realm of shadow will allow one possible means by which I could cure my ailment, if it can even be righteously referred to as such... but it is not certain. Not yet. I need to put time, effort, research into it, find more truths that stand adjacent to the path I would walk. Seek the experiences of those who have lived similar things, determine the ways they have resolved them, how their lives were defined, and by that definition chip away at the shape of what I desire.

[the subtle depression of an unchanging burden growing heavier day after day]

I am not blessed with the power to build. Mine is the touch of devastation, of elemental harm, selfishness and destruction. But that does not mean it cannot be used constructively. A builder destroys a forest to plant a town atop it-- a sculptor cuts away at marble that he may of it create something more. One cannot create without destroying, and, in many ways equally, one cannot destroy without creating, though it is certainly possible to annihilate more than you forge in so doing. Nevertheless-- I ramble, even here. Even now.



[the stinging anger of being made to endure an unjust circumstance at no personal fault of ones own]



There is a reason for it, though. As said, I seek to catalogue all the necessary truths, and in that very same ramble there lies one that sits at the heart of my intentions. A sculptor works in the realm of negative space. They do not form their creations from the bottom up, but with a chisel and a block, cutting away. I must do the same. Learn what I can. Define the truth at the periphery, and find the shape of my solution in the empty space left after I have catalogued all the adjacent information. In that gap, I will expand-- reach in, and illuminate what is and could be, in my own way.



[the dread of attempting to escape a pain that has grown familiar and comfortable]

Were that I did not have to. Were that I was simply a normal woman. But, well... We play the hand we are dealt, do we not?



[the subliminal envy towards others for having something you do not without even realizing the value of what they hold]



I suppose even poor hands can win, if held by a good player.



[the frustration of an idea lingering, just barely out of reach of comprehension]

[Titania]

[the subtle arrogance of one who is at the precipice of success]


The stage is set for my ascent. The pieces all gathered, the cards dealt, and all that is left is to make the play. I wonder-- What will change, in the aftermath of my escape? How will I be different? What, of me, is defined by what I am currently, and what will happen to it when that is no longer the case?


[the gnawing fear of having to change who one is utterly and inexorably]


There is no room to hesitate, though. After all that I have done, all the people who have fought for me, all the years of strain and struggle and progress... There can be no turning back at the precipice. I will be better, even if it means I am different for it. I will grow, I will change, and I will rebel.


[the anxiety of facing the unknown, despite all preparations]


Let it not be said that the Lady dul Vique was found wanting. Let it not be said that she fell to her basest impulses, that she allowed her worst self to rise. And let this moment of self-actualization be the first of many successes. I hope, I hope, I hope.

[the subtle dread of a new life, and what it might mean]

[Titania]

[the euphoria of success, and of new experiences earned]


It is done. I am done. Complete. Resculpted anew in an image of my choosing, of my design.

I will never, ever, ever again be the same.

And here, after the die is cast? I can say without doubt...

I wouldn't have it any other way.

For the first time...

...I am happy.

[the unique catharsis of experiencing an emotion for the first time]

[Titania]

---

"Ysayl."

"Ysayl."

"Ysayl."

"Kill them, Ysayl. You're the only match for the one who took my friend. Please."

"Ysayl, they're digging their claws deeper in. You know what she's done. Avenge him. Please."

"Ysayl, they tried to make you a liar. Are you going to take that sitting down? Please."

"I am not a woman of infinite patience. I am kind. Understanding of the woes of circumstance. I offer empathy to those who others might declare undeserving, and reap the rewards therewithin-- doors opened for better paths, to learn things and earn victories a blind hand of justice may not."

"I am running out of patience. But I am not like the rest, am I? I grieve, but grief does not stop me. I feel pain, but pain does not slow me down. All there is to know of the hearts' most fundamental flavors, I am in tune with-- and none of them can affect me in a way I do not want to."

"No betrayal will stop me. No loss will break me. No tragedy will make me cease the path I walk. I am hardened-- capable. My flock requires someone who can keep them safe, and there is nothing in this world I cannot endure to do so."

"Ysayl. Ysayl. Ysayl. Do you hear that? Another in need of help. Another seeking to bend my ear, to ask what I intend for the demons, or the covens, or the chaos cults. Ysayl. Ysayl. Ysayl. Maimed warriors begging for the materiel to return to a shade of their former selves. Ysayl. Ysayl. Ysayl. Dwellers in the dark coming to me to ask for a chance at a better life."

"Ysayl. Ysayl. Ysayl."

"...and so I answer. For while others mourn, I am inured. The only thing slowing me down, is..."

"Is..."

"Is..."

[An unrelenting feeling of all-consuming fatigue]

---

"I do not need to ask if He is proud. Not anymore. Not when He has given me the power to serve as His righteous hand. No-- Athelios is not to blame. Athelios, beloved Athelios, has done all He can to intervene. The rest is up to us. Up to mankind. For as grand as He is, who would I be if I gazed upon the gifts He has furnished unto me and dared ask for more?"

"My father, this cup is mine. And from it, I shall drink deep. Mired in suffering, I shall endure-- a beacon of Your love, my father. A light in the darkness, burning eternally. And I shall work your will without need for thanks or reward, for I know Your path and mine are one and the same."

"Ad astra per aspera."