Dear sweat Vilra
You and your ilk continue to meddle in the lives of the mortal pawns Our Great Lord deemed unworthy.
Your older brother was imprisoned in that coffin of his. Chained like a poor sop screeching for beloved shadows to save him.
That younger brother of yours betrayed us all and was forced to watch over the dead as punishment. Forever impaled on that marble throne while my children watch with glee.
Then there is YOU who sews the fabric of each pawn and holds responsibility of sending their demise. You who have done the worse sin than I.
All of you had turned your backs on your Father yet you weren't cast from paradise. Each of you had taken one special pawn from me who requested death.
Now, it is time that I take it by force o'sweet lovely Vilra. That thread you clutch with dimming defiant eyes cannot save you.
He can't even save those he cares for…