Letter II
-Another letter would be found, somewhat close to the first one,lying seemingly abandoned in the streets of Kugane without a recipient listed.-
  To whomever this parchment may reach. Have you ever asked yourself, why do we do certain actions? Why we form certain attachments? Isuppose those are questions I should be asking myself given that I am writing these ridiculous letters with this very parchment likely being lost at sea or thrown away as trash. Only my mission, my purpose, my goal should matter yet here I am, once again having picked up my quill, writing as though a sentimental fool. It sickens me to some degree how foolish I am acting but I suppose even something as idiotic as this is necessary.
  Who am I? Ultimately someone so insignificant. What am I? A blade in the end. What do I do? I tell myself I use my blade to protect the innocent, to slay those that would oppress them. But, isn't a murder, even without supposedly ill intent, still a murder? Once your hand is stained with the blood of another, it can never be cleaned, in fact, I would daresay it readily becomes a favoured solution. I had been less of a fool once. I had thought that the blade's true purpose was to protect, to be a shield at which the innocent could hide behind. But 'twas never that simple, one can only be a shield should they possess the strength to not break.
  I had longed to become a shield since the days in which I barely reached a few fulms, I suppose I was inspired in a sense by my father. He was a Knight of some renown within the hypocrisy that is Ishgard. Always virtuous, polite, and a pillar of strength and confidence. I sought to attain even a fraction of the strength that he possessed, yet, I could not become the shield that he was and was instead cursed to become a mere blade, a simpleton that only knows how to strike and kill and not defend his fellows as he should. A loathsome existence. But alas, 'tis something that I deserve for I lacked the strength to remain sturdy. To remain standing at one's side until the very end. No. I've failed in that regard and so, I am fated to wander. To be a blade without a purpose. To be wielded by whomever I pledge myself to at the time before then drifting and moving to the next one to be helped. Wherever I am, that will not change, even in these foreign lands, a master-less blade such as I can only offer himself to be used, to fight for the sake of another and never my own.
  Regardless. I must say, Kugane is a beautiful city indeed. A more vibrant architecture than Ul'dah or Ishgard that is for sure. Yet, there is a certain hollowness within these gilded lights. Perhaps you could see them too, perhaps not. Regardless, I have my own path to follow and I am sure you do as well. Even if I might see these distortions, you may not. It matters not in the end because I am a blade and so.
  I can only fight.
-Another letter would be found, somewhat close to the first one,lying seemingly abandoned in the streets of Kugane without a recipient listed.-
  To whomever this parchment may reach. Have you ever asked yourself, why do we do certain actions? Why we form certain attachments? Isuppose those are questions I should be asking myself given that I am writing these ridiculous letters with this very parchment likely being lost at sea or thrown away as trash. Only my mission, my purpose, my goal should matter yet here I am, once again having picked up my quill, writing as though a sentimental fool. It sickens me to some degree how foolish I am acting but I suppose even something as idiotic as this is necessary.
  Who am I? Ultimately someone so insignificant. What am I? A blade in the end. What do I do? I tell myself I use my blade to protect the innocent, to slay those that would oppress them. But, isn't a murder, even without supposedly ill intent, still a murder? Once your hand is stained with the blood of another, it can never be cleaned, in fact, I would daresay it readily becomes a favoured solution. I had been less of a fool once. I had thought that the blade's true purpose was to protect, to be a shield at which the innocent could hide behind. But 'twas never that simple, one can only be a shield should they possess the strength to not break.
  I had longed to become a shield since the days in which I barely reached a few fulms, I suppose I was inspired in a sense by my father. He was a Knight of some renown within the hypocrisy that is Ishgard. Always virtuous, polite, and a pillar of strength and confidence. I sought to attain even a fraction of the strength that he possessed, yet, I could not become the shield that he was and was instead cursed to become a mere blade, a simpleton that only knows how to strike and kill and not defend his fellows as he should. A loathsome existence. But alas, 'tis something that I deserve for I lacked the strength to remain sturdy. To remain standing at one's side until the very end. No. I've failed in that regard and so, I am fated to wander. To be a blade without a purpose. To be wielded by whomever I pledge myself to at the time before then drifting and moving to the next one to be helped. Wherever I am, that will not change, even in these foreign lands, a master-less blade such as I can only offer himself to be used, to fight for the sake of another and never my own.
  Regardless. I must say, Kugane is a beautiful city indeed. A more vibrant architecture than Ul'dah or Ishgard that is for sure. Yet, there is a certain hollowness within these gilded lights. Perhaps you could see them too, perhaps not. Regardless, I have my own path to follow and I am sure you do as well. Even if I might see these distortions, you may not. It matters not in the end because I am a blade and so.
  I can only fight.
