Act I, Part XIV: Vengeance

By Athyn Sarethi, Brother-in-Law of Miner and Uncle of Nilas and Gandosa

Master Tuls counsels patience and prayer in these trying times, but my heart burns with a fire I haven’t felt since the War. He tells me I need to step away from the situation and quiet the storm within, but he wasn’t there when Nilas was born—he wasn’t the one changing the diapers and holding the Arobar family together after Dralora died. Master Tuls and I have been friends for many years and I can not state enough how much I have appreciated his counsel since he arrived here in Ald’ruhn, but this is one time that I just can’t take it. I just don’t have the ability to still myself after seeing my nephew like that. I can’t. I just can’t.

I remember watching this boy grow up and being there for him. I remember the first time he came to me and asked me to teach him how to use a sword and I remember how we practiced every day for hours until I would get too tired to keep at it, but he’d always be pushing me to go a little longer, because he wanted to be Redoran—just like his father and me. He wanted nothing more than that and to see him—like this—I can’t. I could barely recognize him when the Watch sent word to me that it was him that they had dragged from beyond the Walls. Looking at him, his lips were cracked from thirst and he had not only lost weight, but his body was covered in bruises and cuts. He’s alive though. I thank ALMSIVI for that small miracle. I simply lack the words to convey my infinite gratitude to them for sparing his life despite what he’s gone through, but I must pray. I must pray for forgiveness for when I find the monsters who did this—they will pray for death and I—I will do things that no man should ever do to another, but whoever did this to my nephew, they will suffer a thousand-fold what he has. I swear it, on my life and on my honor—they will pay for their crimes.

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He couldn’t give me much information, but he gave me enough with what little strength he had for conversation.

“Uncle—there were—too many—of them.”

“Too many of what?”

“They—they—captured me—tortured me—did things—to me.”

“Who, Nilas? Who?”

“I—I don’t—know.”

Those were his last words before he lost consciousness again and I have had the healers tending to him on orders to alert me the moment he wakes up, but he hasn’t and right now, that’s okay. He needs his rest and I need to be free to coordinate. I’ve already sent scouts to Marandus to try to see if the Underpriest knows anything and I’ve spoken to General Serano and told him I want his best men on standby for once I have more information about whoever did this.

To you, whoever did this to my beloved nephew, I pray for you.

I pray that Death finds you before I do.

I pray that you have time to scurry away long enough to kill yourselves before I get my hands on you.

And most of all, I pray that you have made peace with your gods, for when I find you, you will scream their names in hopes they’ll kill you—just so that it can stop.

I pray for you, whoever you are, but know that my prayers for your death are the only mercy I will show you and that once I find you—you will learn why so many of Uvirith’s mercenaries killed themselves when they realized capture was imminent. You will learn.

-Athyn Sarethi, Councilor of House Redoran