#so...you know that whole thing about how sylvari are immune to mordremoth corruption

[commanders-company]

Reforged

Do you remember me, mother?

Do you remember when the fleet fell, and the jungle roar pierced our minds? Many trembled, many faltered, but I stood resolute. My duty as warden meant I could not let the call take hold; there were far too many lives in my hands for that. I gave words of comfort, brought the lost back home, and gave a quick end to those too far gone. Grueling work, but I did it gladly.

Do you remember the silence? For weeks after, the dream was chaotic, a swirling vortex of panic and confusion. Everyone had questions and no one had answers. And when the jungle dragon was finally slain, what followed felt like a wasteland. Saplings were afraid to peer into the dream. Their elder siblings were disillusioned. I remained. I had to.

Do you remember where I was sent? A sudden urging pushed me and a small company of valiants to Mount Maelstrom, further from the forest than any of us had ever been. The destroyers were on the move, or so the dream said. We marched, your loyal tin soldiers, confident that the dream would keep us safe. But the dream had changed, hadn't it? You were still so weak after the attack. And yet you sent us out.

Do you remember the names of the fallen?

Did you hear their screams?

Do you know how long I burned, buried in the rubble?

I called out, begged for help, screamed in pain. No one came to my rescue. A footnote in the great dream, to be cataloged and forgotten with the rest. But in the midst of my suffering, I was resolute. I believed in you. I had to.

And then another voice came: primal, indistinct, but getting closer. It spoke of fire and ruin. Promised power. The power to save myself.

As I clawed my way out of the melting rock, I confronted the truth: you never saved me. You left me to die.

I have no need of the dream anymore. No need for siblings or titles or anything green. Magma boils in my veins, waiting to be released. Every moment is pain, my skin is reduced to ash, removing every last trace of what I was before. His voice continues in my ear - powerful, wild, driving me toward one goal.

Do you hear me now, mother?

No matter. You will soon.