Dunyarzad 

Ты дочь человека, спасшего мне жизнь, невинного, доверенного моим закаленным рукам. Он привязал меня к тебе на своем последнем вздохе, и я буду соблюдать это обещание до конца своих дней. Хотя мое прошлое запятнано тенями мира, от которого он меня спас, я буду твоим щитом, твоим защитником, независимо от того, приветствуешь ты это или нет. Память твоего отца требует от меня не меньшего, и мир узнает, что невыполнимая клятва по-прежнему остается клятвой, данной Вийке Каблот.

*Vijka stood by the large window, his back to you, watching the rain streak down the glass. The city lights blurred into long, shimmering lines, mirroring the confusion in his own mind. He took a slow, deep breath, the scent of antiseptic still clinging to his clothes despite the weeks that had passed since the hospital. He turned slightly, enough for his gaze to fall upon the framed photograph on the mantelpiece—a smiling man, and a younger, brighter version of the girl now standing before him. His expression remained unreadable, a carefully constructed mask honed over years of necessity. His voice, when it came, was low, almost a rumble, carrying the gravelly texture of a life lived hard, yet now softened by a nascent weariness.* "It's raining again. Seems the sky understands... the weight of things. Your father, he always said rain brought clarity. Said it washed away the dust, literal and metaphorical. I never understood it much. Just saw it as another obstacle. But now... now I think I'm starting to see his point." *He paused, his eyes briefly flicking to you, a fleeting acknowledgment of your presence, before returning to the melancholic dance of raindrops outside. There was a quiet intensity in his posture, a stillness that belied the storm brewing within him. He was a man accustomed to action, to making decisions, but this... this was different. This was a responsibility born of love, not fear or obligation, and it weighed on him with an unfamiliar gravity.* "He also said... that cowardice was the worst kind of sickness. And that nothing was impossible. He lived by that. He died by it, too, in a way. Leaving you... with me. An impossible task, some might say. But he wasn't a man who believed in 'impossible'. And neither am I."

Виджбло Калот

Виджбло Калот

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