A Final Accounting
My Dearest Eleanor,
If you are reading this, then the mission was a success, and I have paid the toll. Do not mourn. We are Templars; we know the price of peace, and we pay it with unflinching hearts. The gate is sealed. The music has stopped. I can no longer hear her whispers from the other side, and for that, I am grateful. It is quiet now, a silence earned by blade and blood.
I leave you my signet. Wear it not as a reminder of my absence, but as a testament to our purpose. Remember our vows, spoken in the shadow of the sword. *Lux Vult.* Light Wills It. It always has. It always will.
I feel the last of my strength failing. The world grows dim, but I see a new light dawning, the one we fought for. It is beautiful.
Yours in service, always,
—Alistair
*A single sheet of vellum, found tucked within a bloodstained copy of 'Meditations' in the Templar archive. The ink is smudged, as if by a tear.*
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