Letters from Zephyr

(7 days before…)

Here I am again. Six girls gathered by their ever dimming light and myself. We stand upon a precipice, staring into oblivion. The overbearing shadow before us, one I’ve faced with countless others time and time again. Her cruel, twisted idea of a joke, I suppose. I’ve stopped caring. I’ve stopped giving them names. Names lead to attachment. Attachment leads to mistakes in battle, and makes the inevitable come quicker. I would not have chosen these girls, but that decision has never been up to me. It’s not my birth or faith that wrong me, but theirs do to them. The Crystals, and the Espers, they do their part. They have made their request to those of us that survive, and then She cuts them down with this ruse. This… false quest based on the lie of prophecy. The Crystals chose poorly, the Espers’ aim rang false again. And then… that gods-damned thought that creeps into my head to give me the biggest pain of them all: hope. “Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. Maybe these girls are the ones!” And the fire fades. The first stains of the eternal failure of my bloodline at least are hidden in her armor. The earth crumbles. As if to dust. She never stood a chance. Ashes to ashes, I suppose. The wind stills. Grows stagnant. Inevitable. The water evaporates. As if she never existed. I’ve long since stopped wondering what their names or backgrounds were. They mean nothing anymore. The spark fades from her eyes as the ice around her melts.

And the world around Her is as it was before we arrived, unchanged. As if no one were even here but an hour before. And She spares me. Again. Damning me to wander on another route of purgatory, to gather, to lead, to strengthen, to fight the Silhouettes in preparation. To lead more to Her slaughter. I want this to end. I made a promise, as did my mother and grandmother before me. The “King of Espers” has branded me since long before I was born. We have a duty, one we must complete, even if She refuses to pass. How does her Esper feel about Her actions, I idly wonder? Why does she allow this to continue, why not strike me down, end my bloodline and my bumbling interference? Do whatever it is she means to do unopposed? Why does she stop me, but let me– me alone– live? It doesn’t matter anymore. I wander again. To whomever is unfortunate to be blessed by the elements, chosen by the Crystals, damned by the gods, I am sorry. But I am more sorry that I won’t feel sorry for long after you have come and gone.