He died in my arms.
I don't think I've ever felt pain like this. I don't think anyone could ever know such limitless, bottomless grief. He was my everything and now, now there's nothing.
It's my fault.
I knew that he was falling in with a bad crowd. I mean, calling themselves the Black Arm Gang, it was like a calling card to trouble. I had every opportunity to step in and get him out of there, but I thought to myself 'No, he has to make his own choices'.
His choices were wrong.
They sent him to intimidate some merchants. A simple shakedown, a little gold for a little bluster, harmless. I could have stepped in, but I didn't, I let him make his own mistakes. It went wrong. The merchant had protection and the standoff got violent. It's amazing how one tiny blade can do so much damage.
I should have taken more control. I should have stepped in ... but I didn't, and now he's gone.
The one good thing I've made in this world.