I offer my words to the citizens of Auxentia:
Gov’ner is dead. I was the one who instigated it.
The previous Hawkhurst died alongside him, a gang of criminals only looking after themselves… Now, we look after the city, in our own lawless way. Did you know that the antidote for even the most potent venom is synthesized from the venom itself? How even the most dangerous thing can be used for good, if put into the right hands. The Hawkhurst… It was not in the right hands previously. But I implore you to trust me and my modus operandi, using this bastion of chaos and darkness as a wall against those who strive to destroy our city and the factions themselves.
To the Bahira: Your tales remind us of the past, of how things could turn. Scream your stories to the heavens, tell the people your worst scenarios. They’ll go to war.
To the Parastin: You always were the ones with the largest hearts. Don’t stop, save who you can, cutting all those down who may stop you.
To the Gilded: They say money is the root of all evil, yet I have yet to meet an evil Gilded. You all use your money for good, for the better of the city.
To Luciole: Your minds shine like the brightest firefly, and I pray your intelligence does not let in the creeping thoughts of doubt. Create the city’s best.
To my Irregulars: We are the beaten, the downtrodden, yet we are a family. What we lack in everything else, we strive in numbers and connections. We work together.
“The city is what you make it.” That is what we are told so much as we grow up in Auxentia. It is what we make it. Yet in the recent months, it begs the question… Is it truly? Or is it an amalgamation of the lies told to us by the Silent Partners. And so I took my destiny into my own hands, molding what I want for this city, no matter how twisted my methods may be: it is still the city that I make it. And to truly stop the lingering threat that looms over us, you reach out and grasp your destiny as well.
I will be at the Lightning Bug Ball, to all those who wish to converse. The Hawkhurst methods may be crude, but they get the job done. I pray you do not judge me too harshly.
Let justice be done, lest the city will fall.
-Morelia
