The Cost Has Been Too Great

We have lost so much already. And yet I fear I we must press on. The consequences of defeat are too horrifying to contemplate. A good general knows to put his warriors’ needs before his own, and when to make hard choices, sacrificing even the security of those he protects if it means preserving the hope of a greater victory. Perhaps it is my own pride that spurs me forward, for I continue to gamble our very souls upon this gambit. Fear grips me. I feel its icy grip upon my heart. All this time, as each of my old friends and allies faded to oblivion, unable to muter the will to even exist any longer, I clung to this plane through the belief that I was preserving something necessary. A last, fool’s hope for salvation against the myriad of strange and eternal forces arrayed against us. Whether or not I succeeded, only time will tell. But I begin to suspect that I may no longer be here when the question is answered. For I am weary now, and doubt has begun its crippling march through my mind. And while it’s true that our hero’s arrival reignited my hopes, it has also made me yearn for the end of my journey. For the knowledge I carried is now in safe hands, and the need this old soul is no longer existential. My old bones ache, and my fighting spirit stills with every passing hour. I have, perhaps one last war left in me, before I must rest. Long life on Aeternum always has a price, and, in the end, this land will have her ransom. One way or another.