I'm mesmerized by you. By all of you.
There you are, Kern, golden-haired with eyes of blue skies. Holy. Your hands bring healing fire into the tattered remnants of my chest. Your fingers lace together ribbons of flesh. Your faith binds tooth holes, each one large enough that, if you wanted, you could reach in and tickle my heart.
And, then, there is you, Master Entreri, my rival. If I die, it will be your back that carries me out of this ruin. You will hide me away until I can be placed in the sea.
You will light the torch that burns away my boat, my body, that falls on me like a dying star.
And what of you, Sharessa, the Shadow, the shapely Sharker? You're a promising stream, full of life, that sinks and dies in desert sands.
And Trandon, there you stand. The once-bright gem you wear fades. It is as if what you once believed in is slowly abandoning you. I know how you feel. And yet, still, you stand there. Is that what it is to be grown up? To embrace not faith but doubt, and still stand?
And you, Ingrar-the Seer. If I live, you will teach me to gain in what I have lost, as you have gained new eyes for old. Eyes that see past double walkers and dop-pelgangers to the truth beyond.
And finally you, Mage-King Aetheric III-you, who have risen above your palace and your poison to become more than you were.
Let me, likewise, rise with thee.
