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#White Mage

“Sadly there will be nothing left of us, soon. This great city, once beautiful and serene, is all but lost. A great flood has washed away most of it by now - and it won’t be long before there is nothing left.” 

“Fortunately, thanks to the blessings of the Mother, you will survive. We made sure of that. You’ll be confused, lost - but don’t worry. The hosts may be made of stone, but they will take care of you until you’re grown and ready. They’ll be your friends, your guides, your teachers - for here, dear child, life has no end - only transformation.”

“And besides, there will be dozens, even hundreds of your brothers and sisters right beside you, new to this world, and ready to return our great civilization to what it once was.”

“You have nothing to fear.”

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Ahhh @zhauric always nice to find you in my inbox ;) I will have to answer this for my bright spark, as I dare say she would not be able to do so for herself, not this day, at any pace. 

Kitt’s looking for that which grounds her, currently haunting the North Shroud (where she grew up) ruminating on her family’s death with no small amount of survivor’s guilt. She’s tormenting herself with her lack of pre-calamity memory, seeking out deep water and cold grey seas, needing something bigger, deeper, darker than herself.

She feels she “fell into” the Scions and the Warrior of Light business - she questions herself and her motivations. She’s disenchanted by the roles and labels she’s been given, lofty as they are. Lately she’s been incredibly mercenary in her pursuits. “What’s in it for me?”

What she recognizes in herself is her skill set. She’s a fierce fighter, and an exceptional combat healer. What she no longer is making sense of is why she is embroiled in solving the problems she does. She’s loyal, but to people, not causes. She’s restless and increasingly, disarmingly, candid. She wants … more

Kitt thirsts for freedom, adventure, challenge - on her own terms. We just don’t know what she might get up to given the right provocation or offer. What is certain is she is darkening, drawn closer to edges, and points of no return. She’s seeking, like a cat on the prowl.

Such is the way of existential crisis.

Thank you for the ask, Lovely! 

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