Party of None, Please

I can hear her crying in the next room.  What makes her stay with the halfbreed, I cannot comprehend. It is either fear or guilt, but it could never be loyalty, could it? When he came for me, she stood at my back. When he took more than was his due, she went without question. When I see her in the halls, her eyes are always cast away, and there are no smiles for her lips any longer.

I hate that I am as much her jailer as I ever could be her liberator. I hate that I have been pressed to travel ells past the reach of her voice and the echoes of our long-dead friend whose name I bear. I hate that I fight for my life. I hate that by the time I return, a conquering hero, she may well be an old woman who cannot forgive me, because she has forgotten me, while I will remain forever young in the company of strangers.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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