My dearest Divine Brother,

It is understandable that several centuries in this world that was so
grievously deprived of Me have thrown You into a deep melancholy whence
You have forgotten the nature of Your very own sister. Or perhaps You
still begrudge Me the incident with the Conclaves? But come now, dear
Brother. Let Us forget such petty squabbles.

You know far better than any mortals who foolishly fall within Your webs
of artifice that destruction is not what I seek, nor, for that matter,
what I ever seeked. Is it enough to say that of all the cities I chose
the one most decrepit, most disorganized, most disloyal even to itself?
Really now, I am motivated purely by altruistic desires here. Imagine
what glory this sad, sad city shall rise to once My power infuses its
foundations and turns it into a true Bastion of the North!

But then, I suppose that mortals strong within their inner darkness,
content with the power of their souls, and well-versed in the art of
resisting Your webs are not to Your taste. How well do I understand Your
worry, dear Brother, that I somehow shall once again undermine one of
Your clever schemes. Alas, but I must disappoint You, for I have no
interest in your unclear stakes.

- Chakrasul, Lady of Corruption

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Chakros, in the year 111 MA.