The mortal mind was never meant to hold the amount of knowledge that I had. Humans at best possess the capacity for 200 years of memories and the elves of sovyrian by contrast can hold up to 800 years, a far cry from the millennia’s of knowledge I had. When my divine spark was ripped from my chest I was given a mortal body with mortal capacity for memory. I fought to hold on to what I had for to long as a result I probably remember less than i might have. But fighting did give me more control over what memories I kept and which ones I had to forget. I no longer remember shaping the coastlines of castrovel and golarion. I no longer remember those long years i spent in the halls of elysium or the under-volcano. I no longer remember the feel of a magma flowing through the ocean, the creation of an island. What I do remember is the time I spent with my sisters Desna and Acavna and my younger brother gozreh. I remember the war, the death of Curchanus, I created the Kodan race in his image. I remember my enemy, the nightmare lord Kosmaro, and how far I have fallen. I might be mortal but my sister was fond of saying, “as long as there is a dreamer, there is hope,” now I am the dreamer, now, for the first time in a long time, I have hope.