I knew I loved her when I first saw her.

How could anyone not fall in love with those big eyes gleaming with curiosity, excitement and friendship. There was a freshness in her character. There was so much thirst for adventure.

It reminded me a bit of myself.

Yes, yes, I know that's pretty narcissistic, but the point stands.

I took her around Lumbridge and never did I think that I would ever be excited by this boring little town again. I saw it through her eyes this time – and it was glorious.

When I saw what the brutes had done to her little body, I surprised myself by how much I cried. I surprised myself by how my tears and desperation blinded me when I carried her body to Juna. Never had I thought that I would come to care for someone so much in such a short time. I think that was also the first time when I started feeling devoted to Guthix.

And then when we got to fight together and I saw her ferocity and skill, I knew we were made for each other.

I'll be honest – she wasn't as good as me, but I could help her along in time. I knew she wanted to be the better of me, and I loved that competitive flair between us. It was refreshing. I felt alive and happy. Probably my days of adventuring alone were over.

When I rescued her from another of Sigmund's machinations, I kissed and hugged her hard and she kissed and hugged me back. I knew she felt resentful that she couldn't help herself, and I tried to not take it personally. It wasn't anything against me, I knew. It's just that I loved her so much and I loved being the protective one. It felt good to feel protective of specific individuals instead of the world in general.

I didn't leave Dorgesh-Kaan until that fiasco with the children being poisoned began. It was almost as if I myself was possessed – possessed by my anxiety and anguish and love for her, possessed by the need to have her back. I think I remained holed up in the city for around two months.

When I found her again I was too relieved to have her back to give thought to anything else that might be amiss. We talked and we made jabs and we cried. Of course, I cried even more when I had to hurt her over and over again to claim her back from Bandos. I guess what truly mattered was, though, that we finally got to roam Gielinor together, free from gods and avatars and preoccupied with more 'mundane' things.

I think during that time, if not since the first time we met, I helped her become good.

Of course, Sliske had to come along and kill Guthix, didn't he? He has to ruin everything.

I didn't fight in the Battle of Lumbridge – both Saradomin and Zamorak were too gaudy and needy for my attention – but I did fight against Bandos in Zanik's name. I didn't notice then what had begun happening to her. So absorbed in my glory was I that I did not see what was happening to my beautiful Zanik. I still hate myself for that – among other things, of course.

Of course, I gladly leapt into the pit to fight for her. Of course, I didn't care if she felt bad that I was rescuing her again. The only thing that mattered was her being alive and happy. I'd take the rest as it comes.

Was I made so selfish by my love, though, that I begrudged her for choosing to stay on Yu'biusk even though I knew it was for the best? I didn't cry this time. She had left me far too often and she had become good long before. It's just that I hadn't realised it. We wouldn't have come to this point in time, to this place, had she not become good.

I didn't even cry when I saw her state in the Bandosian afterlife. I guess my tears had run dry after always seeing so much sorrow all around me. It was only when Icthlarin granted her another shot at life again did it hit home how much I had missed her.

We spent many evenings together by the light of that wretched portal, talking or just taking in each other's presence. She would tell me how I had shaped her into a hero – not just by instruction, but also by example. Wanting to come out of my shadow, she remarked drily, was a big motivational factor. I felt proud.

I'm thinking over what Sliske said right now. "Your feelings for Zanik", he'd thrown back at me.

The H.A.M. fanatics had gone as far as to accuse me of bestiality and call me colourful variations of the word 'prostitute'.

No one ever stopped to think that perhaps, just perhaps, I wasn't in love with Zanik.

No one ever stopped to think that perhaps, just perhaps, I loved her as the sister I never had, and she me.

Sliske knew that very well, but he had to ruin the sanctimony of our bond. Like I said, he has to ruin everything.

I'm thinking this as I stare at Meg. She's feeding me chicken broth. My fingers are still broken, so I can't even twitch them, leave alone lift a spoon. My jaw is also still broken and some of my teeth are missing, so I can't chew anything, which is why I have to satisfy myself with yet another broth even though I was begging for a fish pie – or anything, really, that wasn't a broth.

I could vocalise my pleas, but my throat hurts. I think that fart of Mah also damaged my vocal cords as he grabbed my throat.

Meg isn't looking at me. Is it because I look ugly and vapid? Or is it because she can't bear to see me like this?

When I'd first met Meg, I was really eager to help her. It was a big boost to my ego, but I also empathised with her. Gradually, I started thinking of her as my pet project. I started grooming her, mentoring her, tutoring her. I don't know when I started thinking of her as the daughter I would never have.

She reminded me so much of Zanik. Big eyed, (for a human, of course, but also metaphorically speaking) and bristling with curiosity, excitement, friendship, freshness and thirst for adventure.

Unlike Zanik, though, who wanted to beat me, Meg was content to stay in my shadow. Unlike Zanik, whom I happily took around Gielinor with an easy mind, I refused Meg for the same. 'Mommy has work to do' after all.

I look at Meg now. She tolerated the pain bravely, almost greedily taking it in, in the caves. She made it out alive and helped defend me and Rancour from the wights' onslaught. She takes good care of me and makes most of the potions and medicines that the healers use. She sifts through scores of books when she's not on guard duty outside my room.

I see her and I realise that she has become good.

I think of what happened to Zanik when I made her good.

And I think to myself: what have I done?