Powerless
This book can be found in a chest in a room beneath the Kiln of Virtuo. Written by Virtuo, it expresses her frustration with her own inaction over the course of history.
Coordinates¶
| X | Y | Z |
|---|---|---|
| 3208 | 40 | 3364 |
Transcription¶
There is something wrong with me. For untold centuries, I have been content with this world’s flaws. I saw them as opportunities for improvement.
No longer. Increasingly, the world’s problems are filling me with a horrible sense of revulsion. My brother seems to have no problem spreading chaos and warfare across the entire blasted realm, so why can’t I do the same? Shouldn’t I be rewarded for carrying on the Primal Tree’s legacy? Why do I feel so small and powerless.
Oh, certainly, I should be the last one to complain. I have an incredible family of friends in my Virmari, and hundreds of pilgrims to simper over my every word or action. Every day, I am told that my gemstone eye only enhances my otherworldly beauty.
But I hate it. I hate the alien feeling of the stone inside my eye socket. I hate the scars that my brother’s fingers left as he defiled my face, and the makeup I need to use to cover them up. Maelihs brought war to my body, and what am I to do about it? Compliment him? Purify his ailing soul? Fix his hideous realm of deformed servants?
I saw his expression after he maimed me, and I have already forgiven him for what he did. But I cannot forgive myself. When he suffered and lashed out across the realm, I sat here and blessed my devotees. When Avsohm fell in a day, I bathed and dined on fine cheeses and wine. When my Grand Pontiff of Perfection left to lead an army against Maelihs, I stayed behind.
I cannot do nothing anymore. At first light, I think I will leave this place to commune with the Aspects at Ytaj. Perhaps they possess some idea of what my next steps should be.