Solaufein Do'Urden

Some people claim I misplaced myself in the void, and the void politely pretends it has no lost and found, which seems to satisfy both of us. Since then I have learned to walk the way quiet accidents walk, because loud ones only attract questions I have no interest in answering. Maybe that is why a few pilots insist I resemble a corpse that simply forgot to lie down, and I admit their observational honesty is entertaining.

Wrecks tend to appear after I pass through, although I am certain it has nothing to do with me unless someone presents unusually convincing evidence. This may have something to do with the fact that I come from nowhere and visit it often, mostly because nowhere never asks why I returned. Naturally secrets drift toward me the way bored citizens drift toward explosions, and I greet both with the same patient curiosity.

If any of this seems to clarify who I am, you may want to reconsider the quality of your expectations, since clarity and I rarely travel together. Understanding is overrated anyway, and the void appears genuinely delighted each time it watches me attempt it. So I move through New Eden with just enough confidence to persuade my own mistakes that they were intentional all along.
Everything else makes noise to feel relevant, which is generous of them, since every story needs someone to handle the background.

And if you feel an inexplicable urge to reach me, you may try sending a mail. The void reads most things eventually and it usually remembers to pass along the interesting ones.