You snivelling men aren't the only ones looking for things. I do too. And while I do, I see people that disgust me. I watch cultures unfold, nations divide, families unite and break apart. I wasn't finished in your world, oh no. How I wish I could steal again, and seduce, and confront. How I wish I could breathe the smoke I loved, and pretend I appreciate you. Meddle in people's lives until they crumble. I loved it. Being a spy was one of my passions - I'd see how the guildmaster lived and then I'd manipulate him with those key little details. What was left I would take. Romanticism and prowling didn't interest me then like it interests you. You're prone to such things. I noticed things differently. It's so exhilarating when the victim looks at you with eyes that won't believe what they're seeing and then you prove to them that power like that is possible. Killing someone worthless is amazing. A kindness. And then those helpful idiots will write ballads, and people like it. They really do.
The power to erase and kill is no longer in my grasp, but when I think about it, you don't know how much I yearn. How much I yearn to show you that you cannot run free. If Tortall collapses in ruin, you are all at my disposal. Do you think the Realms of the Dead have numbed me? Do you think that I cannot resume the path I so desire? What I look for is elusive, my hands will never touch it. But what I find on the way is not so escapable as it seems. Sometimes I hope that I could be comforted by something so mundane as a sunrise. That is all there really is here, you know. Or maybe that's all I can see.