Your name is indeed Rowan Hightower, but what lies in a name? A name isn’t properly indicative of a person’s character or potential; your name could be whatever you want it to be, really. Though, of course, you already know that, don’t you? A foggy memory is so convenient, isn’t it? Forgetting your past allows you to focus on the current circumstances you find yourself in and ignore what brought you here in the first place. But don’t worry: your mind may be missing some pieces, but I can fill in the blanks for you.

  Parasite.

  No, no, no, shh, shh, shh. Stay asleep, pet. This is a much easier task to do while you sleep. Reinholdt Spire is all you’ve known for most of your life, and what a privileged life it’s been. Tarts on demand, a well-vetted education—you even had your fair share of suitors knocking on your door. Can you imagine it? You, of all people. Despite all your gifts and blessings, you still found a way to complain and focus on the negatives, though. Didn’t you? You’re such an unfortunate victim of Law’s vicious dealings. Someone ought to tell your story for posterity.

  Parasite.

  O’ hark fair travelers, come gather around the fire and hear the tale of poor Rowan Hightower, for his life is a life of boundless tragedy. His father is cold and distant with him, not even acknowledging Rowan’s existence more often than not. He has no true friends at his side, merely a derided lover in denial of who Rowan is. He lives in a world steeped in vi but even the very flickers of wonderment surrounding him wish not to associate with him. He is unloved and goes unnoticed beyond disgust, a pariah in his own land. When you think about it, though, isn’t it all your fault?

  Parasite.

  Did you know it’s feasible for most children to manipulate and draw upon vi at the same age they’ve learned to walk? It’s true; but of course you know that: after all, whose brain am I digging through? Aferiti’s equation is considered one of the easiest equations a Scholar can perform. It’s not even fair to consider it an equation at all since only one symbol is used; you Scholars are a stuffy sort, aren’t you? All these numbers, symbols, equations—bah. Haven’t you wondered why your latest pet project doesn’t need any of that? She just bends the vi to her will and it does as she asks. I bet you’ve wondered whether or not you could do that. Well, worry no more.

  Parasite.

  You can’t. That sort of thing takes talent, and you are a laggard in every sense of the word. Where was I? Right, the Aferiti’s equation. It only takes one of your nonsensical symbols to do that equation and it doesn’t require a whole lot of vi either, so it’s one of the first equations a child learns. The first time you did it, you were almost twelve marks in age. And you passed out! You don’t even have the capacity to handle the most rudimentary of equations. That’s hilarious. Want to know something else that’s hilarious?

  Parasite.

  Parasite, parasite

  Say it once, say it twice

  Steals your life, robs you blind

  Woe, the tragedies you’ll find

  Parasite.

  Kids can be so cruel, huh? They can be creative too: the song’s catchy, that much is undeniable. Of course you don’t have any friends, dear, but what could you expect? Everything you touch turns quite cold. Were you nervous cutting Achaia’s hair? Sure, your feral friend was quite rough with her, but at least Achaia’s life wasn’t literally in danger when she was cutting her hair.

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  Parasite.

  And then, when you did make a friend, what did you do? You found out every single thing they liked about you and you killed it. They loved you, dear. They truly did, despite your many many many faults. But you couldn’t have that, right? Law forbid Rowan Hightower doesn’t have a reason to be so pathetic. Speaking of pathetic—well, we already are, since we’re talking about you—let’s talk about your latest endeavor at friendship.

  Parasite.

  You found a husk of a beast wandering this hostile landscape and you said ‘surely that person is a friend in need.’ You’re pretty stupid for an educated person, aren’t you? But hey, I guess it wasn’t that stupid because you did free them, but you can't honestly think you’re friends. If anything, the majority of your time spent together thus far was in a maze you got her sent to in the first place. Sure, you helped get her out of there, but don’t you think she could have just as easily done so by herself? Don’t you think you’ve been holding her hostage thus far? And she certainly isn’t fond of you. She’s threatened you, yelled at you, and told you to shut up countless times: it’s only been a day, too. Yet you continue to try and prove yourself to her. Why? She can’t validate your existence.

  Parasite.

  Then you found a pet that is willing to give you some attention. She can speak, shake her hand, and you even take her on walks like a diligent owner. You saved her from a life of abuse and slavery from that mean, old Mogrim, hm? You did good, for once. Even I can’t argue against that one. But didn’t she basically trade one master for another? You’re a far kinder master, sure, but a master just the same. And, if you ask me, you’re not a kinder master. Not really. Mogrim was physically and verbally abusive, but the brat was safe in the maze of her own creation. You will be this child's demise, mark my words.

  Parasite.

  Surely your father, though, right? Surely he’s in the wrong. You were bullied relentlessly as a child, you were ostracized as a teen, and you were viewed as a poor bargaining chip as an adult. Where was your father in all of this? Off tending to whatever it is you Scholars do, perhaps? Sure, that had to be the case…sometimes. But all the time? Every time you were in need he was unavailable to assist you. Though, he was certainly available to let you know when you were an embarrassment to your family name. He was free when he wanted you to know your rite was bound for failure and you were wasting your time. It always felt like he hated you, right? You’ve suspected as much more than once with tears in your eyes as you laid your precious head down in your comforting bed. Well, leave it to me to help support your concerns. He does hate you. I would. Can you blame him? You did the worst thing you could possibly do to a man like Magnus, after all.

  Parasite.

  Did your father talk about your mother often? Granted, I can only speculate: I’m peeking in your head, not his. But he strikes me as the kind of guy that’s stalwart and grizzly until he’s alone with his wife. The way people in your life talked about her, she must have been beloved by everyone around her. Can you imagine what that must have felt like? To be loved and welcomed by everyone around you? It’s a rhetorical question: of course you can't. But you’ve heard the stories about your dad and mom and what they did for the Association of Scholars. They were trailblazers, revered for their efforts to forward society. Then your mother passed and your father became a cold, hardened shell of a man.

  Parasite.

  But why would he be like that with you, right? All you’ve heard growing up is how much you look like your mom. So you’d think you’d be a warm reminder of your mother and your father would appreciate having you around. But he doesn’t, right? It’s like you’re a burden to him. It doesn’t add up. But that’s not true, either. You know why he treats you like you don’t exist. You know why you’re the blight of Reinholdt Spire. The offscape may be kind enough to let you forget, but I won’t. Your mother didn’t pass away. You killed her. You killed your mother, parasite, and your sin shall not be forgotten.