Hello, dear friend.
I don't quite know when you'll read this, but when you do, you'll probably think it's odd to receive a letter from me; likely not much time will have elapsed since we last saw each other. Indeed, as I write this, it was only yesterday that we stood side by side and watched the cyclopean doors of Syrcus Tower close for the next millennia.
What a journey the NOAH project was! I remember when I first saw the gigantic structure that people simply called "the Crystal Tower" looming in the distance against the starry skies of Mor Dhona: tall, majestic, shining bright like a needle of light intent on piercing the heavens. Small wonder the local gigas worship it! Never in a million years did I imagine I would have the immense privilege to set foot inside.
But on to the point. As you know, our resident Allagan expert Gra'ha Tia decided to protect both Eorzea and the tower by sealing himself away within the latter (I already sorely miss his sassy disposition). In his absence, it was decided that I was the most qualified to tell the tale of what we saw for posterity. Which I did.
Except I... omitted some things. Things that I didn't want finding their way in the history books.
I however want you to know them. You've carried me into battle
so many times, always finding the words to instill in my heart the courage it lacked. You've known me
longer than I've known myself.
I trust you.
Here goes.
I don't know how well I hid it, truly, but for the whole duration of the project, I've been rather unwell. You've already gotten the cliff notes version -
the Gem of Shattoto and my now-official barring from the conjurers' guild - but what I didn't dwell on at length is the fact that, well. I'm dying. What a thing to put in a letter to a friend.
Black magic is slowly poisoning me; it's like a fever that never abates. I wanted to believe the words of Ququruka were untrue and that I was not indeed sworn to darkness, but let's face it, they were, and I am. My every waking moment, I hear the whispers of the void, much louder than I ever did the
elementals' voices. At night, they fill my dreams with horrors I can hardly describe.
I've been resisting this with everything I have, but I'm losing. The only other person I've told of this is Urianger of the
Scions, and even with all of his arcane Sharlayan knowledge, he couldn't help me. He thinks I have a couple moons left, but no more.
Well, so be it. I would much rather die than become like Emperor Xande, consumed with nihilistic fantasies of power. And I'll add, because I'm imagining your disapproving scowl right now, that this isn't giving up - this is a choice.
I've yet to tell you the most important thing I've hidden, however. As you know, I was to lead a party through the portal at the top of Syrcus Tower and into the World of Darkness, to destroy the high-ranking voidsent that Xande had forged an unholy pact with.
I failed that mission. I failed and lied about it.
Before you try and find excuses for me, know that it was truly entirely my fault. We beat the Cloud of Darkness within an inch of its life, and then, and then, just as I was about to deliver the killing blow... it spoke to me.
"
Wait!", it pleaded. "
Mage of the White. Mage of the Black. Your aether wars within you. Spare me, I beg of you. Spare me, and I will help you."
Twelve preserve us - I hesitated.
Next, I heard a sepulchral laugh, and the Cloud vanished into wisps of black smoke. My party believed we had won and cheered. The only person wise enough to think otherwise was
Nero - you know, that rival of yours so hell-bent on surpassing you that he would let himself be dragged into the void? A piece of work, that man. I think he survived the Praetorium out of pure spite, but I digress.
This could have been of little consequence if not for the fact that I'm positive the Cloud somehow followed us out of the World of Darkness. My mind is constantly swarmed by a legion of unearthly presences, but I'm sure. I can feel it, somewhere in Eorzea.
I'll find it and finish the job even if it's the last thing I do. Please don't try to stop me, and in the name of all that is good and pure, please keep this to yourself. If I'm to perish, then let it be my dying wish that no one else know of the corruption that befell me in the end.
I'll treasure the memories of the battles where you were by my side for whatever time I have left.
Your friend now and always,
Lalli