Ashes No More

[ASignalInTheNoise]

All I was left ... All I've had,

Has been ashes.

And yet here I am, having sworn to never walk the path of ash ...

... walking that lonely road.

. . .

I was taught that the blade can teach you much - that you'd learn well by the lash of it's bite and the clash of steel on steel.

And yet all I have learned is that I am awful at making decisions, awful at being a person - awful at just about everything I have put my mind to.

For every oath made, I have left behind the precious handful I could call my friends; even if we barely knew each other, they were all I had.

For every choice made, I have scorned a dozen more.

For every want I chase, I burn another bridge.

. . .

Oh, Caethir, this city ...

You are the only thing I have ever truly built.

These walls the only ears I have ever had.

I've given up so much for you - but when I look at those walls, built with my own two hands,

I start to think that it was worth it, for a moment.

Even if Adelaide isn't the Crown I swore myself to, so long ago...

. . .

I have never had a friend, really, not in the way people talk about.

Perhaps this book is the closest thing I will have to the idea that is always mentioned - someone to listen, someone to always be there.

But I know, one day, I'll turn these pages of parchment to ash, too, like just everything else I touch. Will anyone read these pages but me?

I don't think so. And maybe, that is for the best. For all my duty bound loyalty - I will hold nothing but a handful of secrets from anyone.

Everything has been sorrow. Everything has been loss.

. . .

I will not have any more ashes.

I'll burn them away in the heat of my unyielding flame.

No more suffering.

And so despised, I abandon myself.

From the crawling of men, To the dance of flames.

[ASignalInTheNoise]

Twelve years.

Twelve years of toil, suffering, and spite.

Twelve years of pretending it would be worth it one day.

Twelve years of my life for that city, where a false king now sits.

Now my chains are broken. If it is the last thing I do, I will break that crown.

I'm sorry, Franz, for the things I said.

I would stop myself in that moment, if I could. All you wanted was to see how I was doing.

You missed me.

But I let the anger get the best of me. I let everything that had happened to me get the best of me.

But none of it was a lie. None of it was wrong. It was all the truth that I'd shielded you from for so long.

Maybe I shouldn't've. Maybe I should've let you have the truth instead of trying to pretend things were fine.

You'll never read these words. You'll never know how sorry I am.

I wish things could be different; that we could have that shining kingdom you and I shared dreams about.

That new world we wanted to built ... so hopeful, looking back upon those days.

It's not your fault.

I wish Adelaide was a fraction of the King you are.

And that is why things are the way they are, now.

Adelaide. The pretender. The False King.

Will you laugh again with the weight of the steel on your neck?

[ASignalInTheNoise]

And so, it is done.

The Crown was broken.

It feels so hollow, now.

Franz is dead. Adelaide is in exile.

And I am left now, feeling nothing.

I miss the passion I once held.

I miss the flame within that was bright and happy.

Yet all I feel in my heart now is a yawning void, where once ambitions and hope used to be.

I do not despair, for despair would do me nothing but cause suffering - but is no flame there anymore.

Neglected by my liege for so long ... filed with hate, only for that hate to suddenly have no purpose.

Caethir is ruled by a new monarch. And I want nothing to do with that city.

I want no power, no title, nothing.

It is over.

---

Is all that is left within me the past? I said I was free of my chains, and yet they seem to be even heavier than before.

Everything I had worked for, all my vows, all my efforts - they were for nothing, in the end. I cannot lay claim to them.

All there is, is ash. The past of my fathers. My broken vows to Ualdir and Caethir. Is that all I have done - break things?

I've wanted to create things for so long, and yet all I seem to know how to do is break.

This doesn't hurt. Not in any way I would know, truly; all I feel - is empty and hollow.

Apathetic.

It's so hard to draw meaning from this world, from the little struggles and the suffering.

I struggled so hard to build something great. And it doesn't even matter anymore.

Why try?

Why give this world more of my life than I already have?

The Astral becomes more appealing by the moment.

It is hard to love a world where your actions have no meaning.

At least in infinity, there is a reason they do not matter.

---

The only true thing I can find myself to bring is hate and pain.

It is kept under tight lock and key, deep within my heart. Sealed away to where no man or woman could touch it.

Because I would fall apart, if I did not have that last fire within me. The rage at the senselessness of the world ... the hate, of being powerless to change it.

The pain of knowing the actions I take have never done anything meaningful for anyone - they have only hurt.

Those words, on that night, to Uralai...

About Halik.

How he would either be a traitor, or die. So callous.

False promises and half-lies, all to just secure a faint advantage against Caethir.

Aquilla...

I am sorry you were dragged into this through my hand.

I hope, in some capacity, you are well.

Am I a good person?

No.

I don't think so.

Is that okay?

---

The fire is gone.