Dearest Elara,
There are things I cannot say aloud, words meant for moments that war does not permit. So I write them now, knowing that this letter may never find you—that it may never leave my hands at all.
I do not know what tomorrow will bring. You and I both understand the weight of war, the cruelty of time, the inevitable march of destiny. The Raven grows stronger. His forces adapt. And with every battle, the tide shifts closer to something I fear we cannot control.
When I first took up this fight, I believed in victory. I believed that we could change the course of history with steel and fire—that if we pressed forward with unshaken resolve, we could carve a future from the ruins of tyranny.
But war does not bend to hope alone. It does not care for our convictions, for the things we wish to protect.
War takes.
I have felt it with every step, every battle. I have seen comrades fall before they had the chance to live the futures they fought for. I have stood among the ruins of cities and wondered if I will ever know a world without bloodstained fields. And I have looked at you—at your fierce determination, at the unwavering fire in your eyes—and questioned if I deserve to stand beside someone who still believes when I am beginning to doubt.
You are the light that cuts through the darkness of my thoughts, and yet, I fear I have been walking too close to the edge for too long. The relic grows heavier. It speaks to me in ways I do not fully understand, in whispers of power and sacrifice. It demands more each time I wield it, and I wonder if there will come a day when it claims me entirely.
That is what I fear most—not losing the battle, but losing myself.
If the war takes me, Elara…
If I become something I no longer recognize…
Will you be the one to stop me?
I would trust no one else with that burden.
And yet, I cannot ask you for such a thing.
I do not know if I will ever send this letter. I do not know if I will ever find the courage to place it in your hands. But if I do not return from tomorrow's fight—if the path ahead swallows me before I have the chance to say these words—I need you to know.
I have always fought for the future we dreamed of.
But now, I wonder if I have forgotten how to dream at all.
Should I fall, do not mourn me. Do not search for me.
Live.
I will not allow this war to claim you, too.
Arkanis