“Memorial”
I don’t know where they came up with the idea to commission that damn statue. It doesn’t even look like me. The hair’s all wrong. I never wore it in a braid in those days. It wasn’t even long enough.
I don’t think it’s necessary. I hate the idea of memorializing something that… violent, I guess. It’s kind of the antithesis (did I pronounce that right?) of everything we stood for.
Yeah, I suppose. At least he looks good. The sculptor nailed his eyes. I would’ve never thought they’d be able to capture the intensity. He was all fire and thunder, even then.
Did we? Some people would say that any action like the one we took is treason. Or was. It never really felt clear to me that we were doing the right thing. It wasn’t about right or wrong. It was about what needed to be done.
No, I don’t plan to stick around. Public events aren’t my thing. They never were. They were his. He was always the social one. It’s funny. He claimed he hated it, but he was always out there, smiling for the worlds to see. Always said that he could do it because he knew I was there with him, and now here I am, and he’s…
I’m okay. I just… I just need a minute.
No, I appreciate you. It’s rare for someone in your line of work to speak so frankly to me. I can’t tell you how I’ve responded to journalists asking about him, or me, or us, or what have you. Just something about you. Reminded me of him, I suppose. It made it easy to talk to you. So thank you. I wish you the best of luck.
You too. I hope things work out in your favor.
The Swords of the Ancients 