I killed my father. [ He hadn't meant to say it. He hasn't said it out loud yet, though it haunts him in his sleep and sometimes when he's waking. ]
He was manufacturing a material that was later used to decimate an entire city. Hundreds of thousands of people, gone in a moment. [ A material Balthier now has stashed in the Leviathan because he has no idea how to safely dispose of it and is afraid of keeping it too near to camp. ] I say that like I'm justifying it. Maybe I am. He'd been...less than fatherly for a long time. Drove my mother away. That's not why I killed him, though I'd certainly fantasized about it after she left.
[ He knows he should stop. Alina doesn't need to hear any of this. It could come back to hurt him. But it's been over a month since he talked about any of it, more than a month since he lost Fran and the others. More than a month he's been stewing on these questions. It's as though being asked has burst a dam he barely knew he was holding. ]
He made me a Judge -- a sort of government official and solider -- when I was 16. A huge honor. I had the power to change things. The people of Archades, the people I was born into, were attacking the countries around us, killing thousands and putting thousands more into poverty. I thought I could stop it. I thought I could show my mother that it was worth coming home. But I was young and naive. I had little political affiliation; my appointment was a gift to my father to keep his research going, research that I didn't realize was dangerous. I should have seen it. But I was too busy missing the freedom of boyhood and clutching my pearls that I'd bloodied my hands by agreeing to a vote that led to the bombing of a city.
I don't know what the price of peace is. I ran rather than face that responsibility. But the war got worse -- directly as a result of my father, and from the council that I left. I had given up what power I had to stop it. Or at least I told myself I had. I went and robbed tombs and fought bandits and ate and drank my way across the countryside. I had no obligation to any of them. Just to myself, and my partner. Other people got to live small, selfish, private lives. Couldn't I? [ He knows he's rambling. Does he have a point? She doesn't need all these details. ]
And then I found myself suddenly in a position to help someone who did have an idea on how to make things better. I wanted to walk away; I wanted to maintain this aloof persona I'd bee building for years. I found myself finding excuses to stay. Treasure. Payment. Fulfilling promises. They got thinner until we all knew I was lying. It feels good, to work for a cause. And it feels good when someone else is making the hard decisions. I think I would have done things Ashe had asked me, if I really believed they would help, even if they were terrible.
no subject
He was manufacturing a material that was later used to decimate an entire city. Hundreds of thousands of people, gone in a moment. [ A material Balthier now has stashed in the Leviathan because he has no idea how to safely dispose of it and is afraid of keeping it too near to camp. ] I say that like I'm justifying it. Maybe I am. He'd been...less than fatherly for a long time. Drove my mother away. That's not why I killed him, though I'd certainly fantasized about it after she left.
[ He knows he should stop. Alina doesn't need to hear any of this. It could come back to hurt him. But it's been over a month since he talked about any of it, more than a month since he lost Fran and the others. More than a month he's been stewing on these questions. It's as though being asked has burst a dam he barely knew he was holding. ]
He made me a Judge -- a sort of government official and solider -- when I was 16. A huge honor. I had the power to change things. The people of Archades, the people I was born into, were attacking the countries around us, killing thousands and putting thousands more into poverty. I thought I could stop it. I thought I could show my mother that it was worth coming home. But I was young and naive. I had little political affiliation; my appointment was a gift to my father to keep his research going, research that I didn't realize was dangerous. I should have seen it. But I was too busy missing the freedom of boyhood and clutching my pearls that I'd bloodied my hands by agreeing to a vote that led to the bombing of a city.
I don't know what the price of peace is. I ran rather than face that responsibility. But the war got worse -- directly as a result of my father, and from the council that I left. I had given up what power I had to stop it. Or at least I told myself I had. I went and robbed tombs and fought bandits and ate and drank my way across the countryside. I had no obligation to any of them. Just to myself, and my partner. Other people got to live small, selfish, private lives. Couldn't I? [ He knows he's rambling. Does he have a point? She doesn't need all these details. ]
And then I found myself suddenly in a position to help someone who did have an idea on how to make things better. I wanted to walk away; I wanted to maintain this aloof persona I'd bee building for years. I found myself finding excuses to stay. Treasure. Payment. Fulfilling promises. They got thinner until we all knew I was lying. It feels good, to work for a cause. And it feels good when someone else is making the hard decisions. I think I would have done things Ashe had asked me, if I really believed they would help, even if they were terrible.
Maybe I am more like my father than I realized.