Is my death in vain?
Even as I plummet to the ground, the air whizzing past my ears, I find my mind not drifting to my inevitable death, but instead to the impact I made.
I feel this is a question many mages ask themselves when they are on the brink of death. And why shouldn’t they? Afterall a mage is practically pre-determined to die less than natural ways from the instant they are awakened. Many accept this fact and instead focus on making sure they leave a lasting impact on the world, much like the mages of old. But did I?
So many years I fought, fought against the order and the very mage community I sought to unite. So many acts I committed in hopes they would add up to one final strike. I look back at a scene not even hours ago, where I stood in river square, bold as they come with multiple spells protecting me. I revealed the truth infront of the crowd who had gathered to witness Rhun’s pyring. I revealed the order for what they were, revealed that mages had played a major part in helping and protecting this city when the Order couldn’t. Of course the Knight’s present refuted my claims at every possible chance, and used their faith as an excuse for their inability to protect. But even for all of his boisterous refutes, I saw that bead of sweat form on his brow. This single bead, formed not by heat as the natural breeze saw to that, but instead formed by one simple fact; He was scared. He saw the people’s reactions to my words, saw that they were not so blind as to deny the truth. He saw their minds turning against the Order and it scared him.
When I walked into the square and said I came to deliver truths, I was not lying. All I ever wanted, all I ever worked for, was this moment. The moment when I planted the seeds of doubt into the minds of Lithmore. The moment I made the blindly faithful reconsider what they had known. If even one person loses their faith and sees the order for what it is, I will have been successful, and can die knowing I finished what I started so many years ago.
But beyond the effects of my actions on the Mundanes, I hope that this shall serve as a lesson… No, an inspiration for my fellow mages. With enough time and patience, they can turn the people against the order. This is the key to victory. They can kill order members left and right, they can burn their cathedrals to the ground, but this won’t win the war, for it will only serve to reinforce the faith. To win they must deprive the order of what strengthens them, and that is the belief of the people. Turn the populace against their faith and you take all power from the Order, for they are nothing without their worshipers.
I open my eyes now, and see the cold stone of which the pyre stands upon inches from my face. I know I am milliseconds from a quick and excruciating death. And in these final moments I whisper one final plea, in hopes that if there truly is some higher power out there, that it will hear it.
“Let them learn from my death.”