Nanny used to say that I was a spoilt and sheltered child. Just a babe, I used to laugh at this, never quite grasping her meaning. The death of my parents was my childhood narrative of loss and suffering – looking back, I remember nothing of them and I doubt I even realised they were gone, I was so young when it all happened. Then, Nicos died in my arms and I understood that there was pain and there was death in the world, two things my childhood luckily was sheltered from. Since then, I have seen war and death more gruesome than many can imagine. I’ve even caused some terrible deaths myself… yet, nothing prepared me for this. For the monstrosity happening in this temple. Youths, almost children are taken away and turned into… no, I’d rather not even think of it.
And yet, here is a dryad and two satyrs… ok, just one, Loreus at least has some balls… just looking on at the horrors Demetria is weaving. What sort of world is this? How can a witness just stand by? How can this be even remotely acceptable? Demetria herself uses her suffering, the loss of her sister to legitimise her horrific actions. As if, the rest of the world has not suffered. Just look at some of my companions if you want to see loss…
I will not say that power creates a certain moral duty. That is an ideal for children and those whose naivety has been sheltered as was my childhood. But maybe we should have higher expectation of all these godly beings… yes, Sydon, that means you too!
I’m not sure what I fear most as I put one foot in front of the other in this temple: death or whatever horror lies beyond the next door…