Dear Alavara

Dear Alavara,   Please know that it was not my intention to die. I am the first to decry the actions of heroes who martyr themselves. Living to fight another day, I have always observed, is far more useful than flinging yourself onto a pyre to make a point. I’ve lost too many friends that way over the centuries. I do not take this decision lightly. Indeed, if there is a way to avoid it, I will. But then you will never receive this letter. In reality, I suspect there may not be another option. If the demons overtake the Capitol, there is no fight on another day. This way, I give you all precious time to plan, to find a way out of this. Even if I can’t see for myself what that way is.   You and your team have consistently astounded me with your ability to succeed regardless of the odds, to the point that it almost feels as though fate itself is on your side. Surely, if anyone can find a way to save this city, the world even, it will be you.   You once told me that you believe your own death is imminent, and that you have avoided growing close to me in a misguided attempt to save my feelings. Truly, a foolish notion. From the very first moment you came into the world, I have loved you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever made, and losing you was the hardest thing I have ever endured. Finding you was the most wonderful but scariest thing I have ever experienced. What I mean to say is that losing you again, regardless of how you treated me, would break me. In that way, I suppose, dying is a somewhat selfish act. I am, in many ways, a coward. Please forgive me for that.   There is nothing, not a single choice, that I would take back, although it is hard to say there is nothing I regret. I regret not being there for you as you grew. I regret not hearing your first words. I regret not teaching you your first cantrip. For all of the milestones I missed as you grew into adulthood, and all the moments I will miss now that I am gone, I am sorry.   Sometimes I wish that I had never told you the truth about what happened. That I had continued to lie, even if that made you hate me. I would prefer that you hate me rather than hate yourself. But you deserved the truth from me. You deserved so much more from me than I gave you.     You have grown into a strong, brave, and intelligent woman. I am certain your magic will surpass mine someday soon, and I almost feel sorry for the poor souls that find themselves on the wrong end of your staff.   I hope you will indulge me by granting one final request. Please live, Alavara. Live for yourself and for no one else. Let go of your guilt and live freely. Turn your anger on your mother, your father, Gra’azt himself, and even me, before you turn it back upon yourself.   By all means, defeat your mother and save the world, but do not do it out of guilt or obligation. Do it so that you can live to see a world free of existential threats. So that you can live your life fully, doing whatever fulfills you. I wish for you to find happiness, wherever that may be.   All the love in my heart,   Iliyria