I turn and jog quickly from the site. Images of my brother assault me after sharing my story. After so long, it still hurts deeper than physical pain. Thoughts about my father still bring the sinking feeling of my failures. Perhaps my pain will help someone in a similar situation.

It just did. A warm voice floats to my ears, seeming on wings of wind. It’s not Cynic, and it’s familiar.

"Who’s that?" I ask, already knowing but wanting to Know. No one else is around. Just the father still sitting by his daughter and the sentry standing vigil.

I repeat the words, still watching warily. The words make something click into place, bringing my past full circle to my present.

My blood mother once told me that bad things happen because we live in a world where people can choose. They can choose good or bad. A father can choose to send his son to assassins. A dragon who goes on a killing spree can murder a young girl. But that doesn’t mean the Allfather wishes it. Nor does it mean he makes it happen. Mother said he can use those bad things for good.

I didn’t believe her at the time; I didn’t see how one could make something bad and horrid into something good. But it isn’t a making of a bad thing good. It’s using the bad of people’s choices to help somewhere else, to let good come out of it. The Allfather is the only Being who can see so far ahead so as to plan where good may come of bad, if we choose to allow it.

I turn to the edge of the plateau. I go down upon my knees, legs shaking the entire way. As I look up into the sky with the light of a full moon behind me, the stars stand out against the blanket of night. The stars twinkle and shine, dancing to a light all their own. Each unique and beautiful in its own way.

“Ok, Father. I don’t understand why you let Bridget die,” I choke out as I think of her lifeless body not a mile from me before continuing, “but I choose to trust. I will try to trust you, knowing you can take this and make it into something better. I will try to trust your heart. Please help me, I don't know how to do this. I can't keep going like this. It's too much. I—I can’t do this alone.”

I will never leave you alone. The Voice is thunder in the night; the Voice is an earthquake shaking me to my core.

I—I see the terrible things I have done. Moments of failure chase themselves through my mind on a loop, times where I killed for the Masters... seeing it all through another’s eyes.

I had no right to kill. No matter what those people had done, they were not attacking me or my pack. I murdered them because I allowed the Masters to control me. I always blamed the Masters: it was they who chose whom I killed, not me!

But deep down, I have always known... known that I should've chosen differently. I shouldn't have murdered for their gain and my own. I should have refused... at least when I could.

Other little things invade my heart. The lie I told to a girl who asked what I was doing around an alley, the time I hit a Shifter for something as trivial as getting in my way. The hate I harbored towards my father for what he did to me.

It swirls within me, a molten pot of blackness that makes me writhe in pain. The guilt. The shame. It’s too much. I would rather die than experience this.

“Father, help! Please. What is this! What do I do?”

He remains silent. His Voice makes no appearance as horror after horror goes through me, tearing my heart to shreds, ripping open long-healed, yet festering scars. I bunch my fists into the dirt, longing to be free of this. But I shouldn’t be. This is my own doing. This is my penance for crimes against him and his people and creation. It has hurt him much more than it ever did me.

“I am so sorry. Please, forgive me.” Tears of remorse squeeze from my eyes as I lay my head on the cool ground.

Beloved son, bear your guilt no more. It is forgiven. The Voice is a soothing waterfall, filled with giddy, almost indescribable joy.

It peels past my memories... finds the deepest part of me and what I have always longed for, but I leave farther behind with each passing day... peace. Within the jagged edges and festering wounds of my heart, the Voice sends a gentle maelstrom of love, acceptance, and... peace. The molten pit of consternation, grief, and shame are simply... gone.

The night air fills my lungs with a mixture of biting cold, somehow sweet smelling snow, and the salty tang of tears and bitter mourning. I lack the energy to do anything more than lay there after the battle of my soul. A few moments, just basking in a newfound, all-consuming peace.

Then the words hit and I sit up, looking at the vast night sky he created. How Something so powerful loves me, a horror who has done more terrible things than most could ever imagine… I don’t know.

I just rest. I allow my soul to bask in this peace that someone greater is in control. And more than that, he somehow loves me, despite my failures and pain. Something clicks in my soul. Deep wounds in my heart heal.

In the next instant, I feel my physical body mending as he helps my soul to heal. Cynic uncurls from where he’s been holding tightly to The Beast. And even The Beast feels satiated, as if I’d just let him free on a rampage, but without killing.

The itchy, uncomfortable sensation of my skin pulling together and healing embalms my wounds for the first time in a long while. The bone deep ache of my broken bones eases.

I look up in wonder. “Thank you,” I whisper. The gratitude singing in my soul is not contained in those two words, but I have a feeling he knows. I stay there, just basking in this wonder. For how long, I may never know. But he is here, and I have a feeling I will need this memory in the times to come.

At last, I feel a prompting in my soul, and I know it is time to go. I’m loathe to leave this place where I found him, and in so doing… I found myself. I found my peace.

I rise with one last glance over the canyon edge. The sky is filled with twinkling stars in a deep black blanket with the moon shining down upon the valley below. A river below shines silver in the moonlight, glistening as if a silver ribbon spread upon the earth. The trees bristle and sway to music all their own, and snow reflects on the valleys and mountain peeks around, giving a surreal air to the scene. This is more beautiful than any painting I’ve ever seen.

The peace here is beyond words, and the joy in my heart makes me tremble in wonder. There is something to this Allfather, the one who creates miracles and loves messes like me. The one who chose to help me.

I will never leave; I will never disown you. The words from my mother come to me unbidden, as if a whisper from his heart to mine. Knowing I have a father who won't forsake me in times of trouble... that's worth its weight in gold. I smile, knowing I will never be the same. And glad of it.