Merrill

I loved you from the moment you introduced yourself.  You asked my name and immediately stammered, unless it's rude to ask a human's name, I've never met a human before.  Your understanding that other people might have expectations and norms that you can't predict, and your willingness to try to accommodate that, melted my little social justice heart.

And you were so determined and brave.  So out of your comfort zone, so isolated and yet unwavering.  You would do the right thing, no matter what the personal cost.  You stood up to everyone you've ever known and said, you don't believe me yet, but I can DO this.  And I believed you.  Because isn't that the story?  The heroine perseveres, against all odds, even when no one believes in her, and then she triumphs and shows everyone.  Right?

But sometimes, when everyone tells you that you're making a mistake, when everyone who knows and loves you says please don't, sometimes they're right.  And when the path you take leads to the death of everyone who knew and loved you, and you stand over their bodies and say, if only they'd listened to me, you are WRONG.

Oh, Merrill.  You are wrong.

They didn't die because they should have trusted you.  They didn't die because they should have accepted your help. They died because you are wrong.  Some things aren't worth the cost.  And you don't have a right to demand that everyone else pay the cost with you.  

You say that you did it for them, but I don't believe you.  Not anymore.  

And now you are standing in front of your mirror, saying that you have no one but me anymore.  And you don't notice all the other people who care and watch out for you, Varric bringing you food, and Isabela fiercely defending you.  And you still think that all this happened because no one listened to you.  And I am suddenly terrified of you, Merrill.  Because you have the power to control our minds and bodies, and you have no respect for our thoughts and feelings.

That spirit you called?  That was a demon of pride, Merrill.