@adaventuremuses continued from here !
The Blade of Frontiers. Famous in his name, in his reputation, and apparently, in his compassion.
She sheltered a great deal of respect for him, despite how little she showed it. He was the very picture of the fabled hero. Determined, confident, firm in his integrity and wise beyond his years. When granting advice, he always seemed to strike that balance between optimism and honesty. Always fighting for a brighter future, but weathered enough to know idealism couldn't get you everywhere.
He gave guidance that he earned the right to give. Through grit and bloodshed and now, through even the loss of his own humanity. She knew they were not platitudes, but she felt smothered all the same.
"My feelings have done nothing but hold me back." Spoken like a true Sharran. "I am in full control, and I'll not have you lecture me as if I am not." Her skin was itching. She crossed the room, gathering documents in her hands, reading words on parchment but absorbing none of it. They were plans, of some sort. Conspiratorial letters, desperate attempts to reclaim the prism that she herself possessed. She wasn't able to gather much more than that.
"… it's not as if I don't appreciate your commiseration, Wyll. I do, truly. I just—" she stopped, armored hands crinkling the paper she held. "I cannot let myself slow down. Not for anything. I will not go against what Shar has taught me."