There are creatures and monsters greater than I which lurk in the night and seek to kill me and mine, or worse. In these moments, I recognize a need for aid.
Drugs, magical though they are, are not enough.
Magic, though powerful, is insufficient to stop Chiropoler, Rat Wizards, and whatever else the world will put in front of us.
The spirits of the Vecatrans are weak, only capable of using their followers to their own ends.
The god of the Benealians is strong, but only seeks to conquer.
Much as I deride Alex for failing to embrace his role in this world, I cannot help but see myself in him.
I am a blade in the night, I have no place fighting a monster that can see me.
Cadence, Milo, Alphonse, Hugo, maybe even Fabron and Henri. They are the warriors who will stand in front of whatever lies at the end of this, but they are not champions of my family. They pretend to care for those who choose to live apart from them, but they are not a part of us.
Just as Isabel and Marionette refused to leave as the rat wizards came ever closer to cutting them down, I cannot help but feel like leaving is giving up, but staying is in its own way, foolishness, if we are only awaiting whatever fate others would find for us.
These are desperate times, and if I am too weak to protect my family, then I guess we will have to find a way to change that; even if it means looking outside of myself.