For one who had all but given up on mortal kind, no language holds words for my gratitude.
From the young to the eldest, you’ve all been through so much, suffered as no one should, lost more than any should lose. Yet still your hearts are good.
And you see this is not speculation, nor my heart in sorrow giving more than deserved. Let me tell you how I know this.
My whole life I’ve been able to see and understand the forces that surround us and shape our worlds, and when we were drawn and trapped in that grey between I could see a dangerous variable in our circumstances. I chose to let it remain a secret out of fear that your knowing would trigger the worst and doom us all. The secret was that the power of the Caller and the All World to enslave you, to betray you, to crush or kill you was determined by you.
I suspect that the Caller has laid that very trap for countless generations that came before, generations that did not survive. I also suspect that the Caller’s power is not an ability to overcome its target, but rather that it relies on mortal kind's capacity to destroy itself, and that is the crux of why so many have fallen for so long. Mortals are good at destroying themselves.
Of course from this we are compelled to lose faith in our fate, but that is the miraculous implication of what I saw.
You did not destroy yourselves. You did not abandon each other, nor did you grow weak with despair or stumble with indecision. You did not lose faith.
Your imperfect, audacious goodness saved you…
My desire to conquer the undying blight of my lands was first born of pride. With time, my drive became paternal and desperate, a sort of beneficent superiority wrapped in endless suffering. What moves me forward is no longer a desire to live above you, or to save you.
I wish only to join you.
Mourgrymm of the Deadlands