(no subject)
Dear Miles,
It is my greatest wish that this letter need not come to use, but one mustn’t take his life for granted, or blindly assume that his days are not numbered. There is no knowing when either of us will disappear from this city (I have, after all, already done so once), nor is there a way to know when this war may claim either of us. If it comes to be that I leave this world again before you do, I hope you are able to come across this letter, and I will be able to tell you anything I may have missed the chance to tell you in person.
You have lived for seventeen years since the time of my death. While my time stopped moving on that day, you have grown over the years from a small, ambitious young boy to a fully-grown and admirable young man. Your friends in this city have told me time and time again that you are an impressive man, and I agree wholeheartedly. I have yet to see your work as an attorney or as a Meister; however, there is no doubt in my heart that you are successful in either field. You have grown to be intelligent, kind, and strong--a man cannot be prouder of his son.
At the same time, I must confess my feelings of vex and regret. I am jealous of the man, no matter what his reasons for raising you may have been, who had the opportunity to watch you grow up. I regret that it hadn’t been I who was alongside you for those seventeen years; I regret not being able to watch you grow taller and graduate from school, and not being able to be there to support you as a father should have. I am very, very proud of what you have become, my dear son. I must apologize for not being there, as I should have been, to raise and support you.
The little boy I remember from California was working hard to become a defense attorney, as we both remember. However, following my death, your life has taken a very different course. You stood before me this month as a prosecuting attorney, and I have learned many things... about you, about your enemies, and about your friends.
You certainly are a little different, now, from the boy I raised for nine years. I suppose that is to be expected after so many years. You have gone through many hardships, and you have made mistakes. A natural thing to do when you are human. Undoubtedly, among the men you convicted during the first years of your career were those who did not deserve the sentence. There are many ways to sugarcoat it, true, but we cannot deny that their lives may have been ruined because of those trials. That is what crime does; victim or perpetrator, deserving of the guilt or not, there is not a single life that goes unaffected by the ordeal. You and Miss Franziska von Karma should understand that more than any. What Manfred von Karma taught you, and what you have done, has definitely hurt people.
You have changed, though. I believe your words, and I believe in the man I have met here. While I have never, and may never, see your work as an attorney, I hold no doubt in myself that you have learned and stepped onto a path you truly believe in. My words to you, as your father, are only these: No matter what path you choose, as long as you believe in it, you have my support. Whatever path you choose, even when you are not sure, the important thing is to keep moving forward.
Lastly, and most importantly, Miles--I love you. I always have, and I always will.
Your father,
Gregory Edgeworth
It is my greatest wish that this letter need not come to use, but one mustn’t take his life for granted, or blindly assume that his days are not numbered. There is no knowing when either of us will disappear from this city (I have, after all, already done so once), nor is there a way to know when this war may claim either of us. If it comes to be that I leave this world again before you do, I hope you are able to come across this letter, and I will be able to tell you anything I may have missed the chance to tell you in person.
You have lived for seventeen years since the time of my death. While my time stopped moving on that day, you have grown over the years from a small, ambitious young boy to a fully-grown and admirable young man. Your friends in this city have told me time and time again that you are an impressive man, and I agree wholeheartedly. I have yet to see your work as an attorney or as a Meister; however, there is no doubt in my heart that you are successful in either field. You have grown to be intelligent, kind, and strong--a man cannot be prouder of his son.
At the same time, I must confess my feelings of vex and regret. I am jealous of the man, no matter what his reasons for raising you may have been, who had the opportunity to watch you grow up. I regret that it hadn’t been I who was alongside you for those seventeen years; I regret not being able to watch you grow taller and graduate from school, and not being able to be there to support you as a father should have. I am very, very proud of what you have become, my dear son. I must apologize for not being there, as I should have been, to raise and support you.
The little boy I remember from California was working hard to become a defense attorney, as we both remember. However, following my death, your life has taken a very different course. You stood before me this month as a prosecuting attorney, and I have learned many things... about you, about your enemies, and about your friends.
You certainly are a little different, now, from the boy I raised for nine years. I suppose that is to be expected after so many years. You have gone through many hardships, and you have made mistakes. A natural thing to do when you are human. Undoubtedly, among the men you convicted during the first years of your career were those who did not deserve the sentence. There are many ways to sugarcoat it, true, but we cannot deny that their lives may have been ruined because of those trials. That is what crime does; victim or perpetrator, deserving of the guilt or not, there is not a single life that goes unaffected by the ordeal. You and Miss Franziska von Karma should understand that more than any. What Manfred von Karma taught you, and what you have done, has definitely hurt people.
You have changed, though. I believe your words, and I believe in the man I have met here. While I have never, and may never, see your work as an attorney, I hold no doubt in myself that you have learned and stepped onto a path you truly believe in. My words to you, as your father, are only these: No matter what path you choose, as long as you believe in it, you have my support. Whatever path you choose, even when you are not sure, the important thing is to keep moving forward.
Lastly, and most importantly, Miles--I love you. I always have, and I always will.
Your father,
Gregory Edgeworth