I finally met my mother.
She is… different than I had supposed but now that I say that I find that the truth is that I had not supposed anything. My imagination, all my thoughts, have a void in the place where a mother should be.
I have had many parents in my life and none of them were real and all of them betrayed me, one way or another. Nathyra Bloodbane. She gave me away. Now she is here and I find that all I want is to be gone again.
Our lives are so different. Mine has been one of misplaced anger and constant betrayals. Hers has been one of seeking and never finding.
In my mind I pictured this. Finding her, happy and healthy in her home and asking her why, why did she leave me among Eladrin to be abused and banished and lost. Why did she give me away. I yelled and railed and spoke plainly in my righteous wrath.
I also saw her holding me with tears in her eyes as she welcomed me home, joyful to see me at last.
The truth is so much worse than the imagination and far more raw. Nathyra has spent far longer removed from me than I have from her. She is seasoned and old and not the type to tearfully welcome anybody and I find I have not the heart, nor the anger, to pile up on her my years of frustration and betrayal.
She is my mother but I am not her daughter. I am, somehow, something else.
I wish that I had somebody I could talk to.