She started out small.

She started out not so great. She watched the world through eyes jaded by time. She stood countless millennia. Tending to her inn, tending to those that came through. A warm and gentle soul that never wished ill on anyone.

But she ended out a knight. She ended out a warrior for all that was good in the world. Fighting against the enemy. The true enemy of the setting that she was employed in. The D-reaper. The demonlords. The spires themselves. Bandits. Kinds. Demons. Dragons. She had fought and conquered so many. Lost and failed so many.

Her pain was beyond a magnitude as she had to eventually face one that she could not beat. One that had cursed her from within.

She was a guardian. A mother. A knight. A conquerer. A gentle soul.

But she was mine.

May she rest in piece and the future that her next iteration carries breathe easy.

For a hero is never gone.

Image done by  pkingsora