There was a vision.

A promise—that we'd win.

My god is dead. Aurene, gone. The warmth of Balthazar's spirit is now just cold, lifeless crystal. Kralkatorrik took her from me, just as his Brand will soon take this world.

I thought that I had finally found...something. A hope that what I was holding on to was real. That it was pure and good.

Maybe it was.

Maybe what I had for that short time between my lowest point and the end of all things was as good as it will ever get for me.

Or maybe the vision that saw me standing there at her side during the final battle against Kralkatorrik was meant as a warning for me stay away.

There is no solace in what lies ahead. All I can do is look to the past, and I carry it with me wherever I go.

The rifle on my back is a symbol of what came first.