03-30-2025, 09:40 AM
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.
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.