[Swiftkusura]

The night crawls, a seeping stark black that rends the very life of a soul condemned to die, cruelty shaped by misfortune and splayed grandly by corrupted hands, it is then that it became clear, the justice robbed from the world and my very actions and then when I learned what it means to have agency.

A long night, bathed in the blood of the republic yet not forgotten for the ones who were lost, the heart still beats and yearns for a better outcome.

Salvation.

What have I done, when the strands of fate lay within my hands I snatched them, gripped tightly by their fibers such that I may draw the drapes in a direction of my own choosing. What if I, in the process of doing what I believed was right only added to the fires that were stoked.

Called upon like a dog, do this do that, a pawn to someone other than the Morninglord who sought my very care, for no more than their twisted satisfaction as they reap the benefit.

I am not bound, nor shackled, I do not yield for the whim of man because they say it is so. I will set forth my own truth even if it means I will discover it in the most unsavory of ways.

May my wings carry me, as the lords has done.