Part XVI: The Pilgrim from Maar Gan

By Dagoth Milos, Teacher of the Ash Mystic

These past few days have been hard for me and Nevena sees it, but she says nothing. She is kind to me and I am undeserving of it, but that does not change that at her core, she is a kind person. I only wish she would do what’s best and leave me like she knows she should, but she won’t. It’s not in her nature. I just wish it was. I’m holding her back and we both know it, but she denies it when I mention it. She talks of how she needs me, because family means nobody gets left behind, but she doesn’t understand that in the grand scheme of things, I am insignificant. If I get left behind, the only one who will mourn me is she, but she does not accept that despite my insistence. I only wish she would, but I will not leave her of my own volition. I must protect her as long as I can and ensure she reaches Kogoruhn safely—from there—she will have safe passage to Lord Dagoth and I, I will be given what I am due for my crimes against the House, but I do not fear my death, for I know she will do what Cerebel sought to and the House will be remade as he knew it could be. I find solace in knowing that I meet my end at Kogoruhn and knowing that she will be given an audience with Lord Dagoth. Things will fall into place as they must and I am grateful to be a part of that.

But there are things that still concern me as we make this journey. A pilgrim crossed our path as we walked and though I am weak, my magics are not. I had him paralyzed and ready to coup de grace before he realized the gravity of his error, but Nevena stood over him as I readied my blade to end his life. She denied me that coup de grace with arguments of how he posed no threat to us, but I knew she was wrong. I knew that he was a threat, even if he himself was not, because he would be a messenger to those who would do us harm. She didn’t care. She wouldn’t move from over him and even as I tried to edge around her, my wounds left me unable to get past her.

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We argued as the Pilgrim there paralyzed by both fear and spell and I screamed at her to let me do what needed to be done, but she would not.

She stood over him with the protective instincts of a mother until I finally agreed not to harm him and then I watched her kneel down beside him, brushing her slender fingers through his hair as she spoke to him. Her tone was gentle as she told him that he was safe—that they weren’t going to hurt him, even though I had said I wanted to kill him—and I watched as he slowly regained movement.

He was scared and there were tears in his eyes and his pants were wet with piss, but he didn’t shy away from her. He just laid there in still silence as she soothed his fears and kept comforting him and I watched as he looked up at her with those young eyes of his and then she did it. I watched her rip the dagger from her boot and plunge it up into his jaw and through into his brain cavity, killing him instantly.

I did not think she understood the gravity of the situation as she stood over him, denying me that coup de grace, but I was mistaken.

I thought she wanted to spare him, but she only wanted to give him a peaceful death—as peaceful as she could and it is these moments that remind me of why it is so imperative I protect her over the coming weeks. Her heart feels not only the troubles of our House, but of all of us, and for that reason, she will be the bridge that brings us back into acceptance with the rest of our people. She will restore our house to its former glory and I am proud to stand with her, even if it as her burden.

­-Dagoth Milos, Teacher of the Ash Mystic