ROANA
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Roana glanced at him, listening quietly as he spoke. The poem was a beautiful one, one that resonated with her. Her father had been a hero, a real one, documented in the country's Chronicle of Heroes. She would have thought it a fitting poem for her father's life...but hers? She wasn't sure yet. It was to early to tell. Staring straight back at me?
You are not the one that gets to decide that, Roana."
Roana chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head a bit. Her eyes cast down to the ground. Based on recent events, she doubted she would be remembered as a hero. An anarchist. A villian. A boogeyman. An example to children of how not to be. But a hero? Her? She didn't feel like a hero. She was just doing what she thought needed doing. "A hero. A fool. Some might say there is actually not much difference between the two." she said quietly. But as she looked back up at him she smiled a bit. "Regardless of whether it is how I will be remembered or what I am, I am honored to be considered so by some." she said.
"I'm honestly not certain." she said, when he asked what she thought would bring an end to the Voice. "But we will need people on our side. We will need the gods on our side...and I've unfortunately made a poor showing to one." she said with a quiet sigh.
Why is my reflection someone
I don't know?
I don't know?
