Part XXII: Farewell, Eno

By Dagoth Milos, Teacher of the Ash Mystic

Nevena felt summoned to this place and I followed her out of love and out of duty, even though I knew it stood in memorial to what I thought was my greatest failure, but Sanur does not haunt me as I walk these halls. There is another specter of my past that cuts deeper than he ever could, in life or in death, and that specter is the one who did this. It is my son, Eno.

I never thought I’d see him again after what happened between his mother and I when he was too small to remember. I was a young man all those years ago and I was making a living as nothing more than as a caravan guard, but it was enough. It was enough for us to have a home and to have a life, but she never trusted that I was loyal to her on those long trips to Ald’ruhn and to Gnisis; she always suspected there was something between Drelthayne and I, but that never was the case. She was always the only woman I ever had eyes for, but she did not believe, because she couldn’t believe. She couldn’t trust that I would never betray her trust as she did mine when she took him from me during one of my runs and left me to a home with no trace of where she had gone. When I held my little boy that one last time before that run, that was the last time I ever saw him, that was the last time I ever laid my eyes upon him before now and now I see the man he has become and I am recoiled with pain. He has become everything I once was and everything I turned Sanur into and I see in him not one ounce of humanity any longer, only an emptiness he can not fill.

I always thought it was Sanur who was my greatest failure, but to look upon my flesh and blood, my beautiful son, and to see him—broken—as I was and as Sanur was—I cry as I stand here over him with my knife in hand knowing what I must do. But I can’t. I can’t do it. I need to. I know I need to, but I can’t. How can a father be asked to put an end to his son’s life? How?

He spoke to me that I was the one who destroyed his life.

That it was me who brought about the plague upon the Betrayer’s City and how I and all of the Sixth House would pay for our crimes, but he does not know that it is my pupil who he seeks to extract vengeance from. But it is irrelevant. I can not allow him to do such to the Ash Mystic—not when it is she who will bridge between the Sixth House and the Temple and unify us oncemore. I can’t allow it, but I also can not kill him, even as he lays there, paralyzed by my magics.

I only wish things had been different—that he wouldn’t have been without me. That I wouldn’t have been without him. But there is no justice in this world, only forgiveness, and I forgive his mother because I must, but my heart hurts worse than it did even as I watched Llevos turn. I have failed you, son. I should have looked harder. I should have been there. I should have done more for you, but I didn’t and now you lay there, waiting to die because I can not let you kill her as much as I may wish I could. As much as I wish things were different. There is simply too much at stake and I see no redemption for you, my son, only the long darkness that I have walked since the Endusal Operation and I can not bare to see you walk that path, even if you are laying a stranger to me. You are still my son and I am still the one who should have been there to protect you, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t there for you, Eno, and I am sorry. There are no words to describe the weight of my guilt for having not kept looking for you, but I have no choice but to protect the Ash Mystic. There is simply too much at stake for you to end her life, my baby boy.

I love you though, Eno.

I love you more than life itself, but I can’t let you bring harm to her—she is too important.

I can’t.

And I will not ask your forgiveness, because there is no forgiveness for this action. There is no justice. There is only the judgment that I will face from myself until I am unmade just as you shall be, but please my son, do not fight it. There is only peace awaiting you and as I look at you and see the signet of the Buoyant Armigers, I know you have earned your peace a thousand times over, it just pains me that you are delivered to it like this. But in the next life, I pray you are given a chance to live the life you should have had—with a father who tries harder to be with you, as I should have.

I love you, son. I love you. You always were my greatest achievement, even if I abandoned you through my own inaction. I hope you carry that with you as you return the emptiness and find your way to the next life; you are the only part of me that was ever good for anything.

May you find peace, my son, may you find peace.

-Dagoth Milos, Teacher of the Ash Mystic