Shilon

I, adorned in the attire of a lower class peasant, entered an alleyway were a young beggar boy stood singing to the passer-byes. I recognized the boy’s allegiance by a small tattoo on the back of his neck. I approached the boy and with little more than a slight sign placed a small note in the lad’s left hand. He stopped his singing and gathered his earnings for the day. He then ran off down the street, my eyes tracing him through the crowd until her turned a corner.

I felt an immense burden leave my heart and run off with the boy. Finally, she is saved, not from physical harms of this life, but a much deeper sort. I thought back on the events of the previous night. It was all so vivid, Mira stumbling toward me with the injured young man, her open rejection of my wishes, and her escape down the tunnel. I couldn’t have wished for anything more from her. The little girl who I trained from childhood, who I thought would grow into a weapon that would forever be a slave to the will of Madness, has become, instead, a defender of the weak and a fighter for the true missions of this life.

You are now dead to the order Mira. This is the only protection I can give you from this point. Written on the note is an altered tale of the events of the previous night. It related how I killed the girl for her defiance and for her inability to execute the will of the Order. I also wrote a recommendation for any records of her existence removed, so that they would not pollute the holy history of our grand crusade.

I hope your new friends bring you peace, Mira.