Funny, the way this world works. This place, Eorzea, I’ve lost so much to it already. Who am I here? Why? Everything is wrong, I find myself broken and confused, lost in a maze but I am so deep already that no one can hear me if I shout.
I am covered in scars, and none of them will go away.
Shurin is gone, I will likely never see or hear from him again. He has his own duty, and it was more important than I. I wonder, if we had not met nearly a cycle ago, would my life be so different?
I do not want to dwell on thoughts of him… perhaps they will just rot with the rest of those that were dear to me in the past.
I will never see his back again…
The Guard is a mess. What can I say of such things? Opinions, Command, in-fighting all kept behind doors shut tight, punishments given when undeserved, and none given when such should be had by tenfold. Yet, I remain for my recruits… those men and women who trust me and look up to me. I wish not to steer them wrong, but there is only so much I can do.
I know not how long I will last here… there is only one thing keeping me sane…
Oskar. Captain- No. Oskar…
Thinking back merely moons… we would fight until both of us bled, until neither of us could lift our weapons. We hated each other so much, would spit vile words from out mouths…
This is not the same pain Shurin brought me, the loneliness and fear, worry and sadness. No… this is warmth… soft words and whispers, guided touches, smiles and laughter. This is longing when he is gone and relief when he is there.
Perhaps one sun he will hold a knife over me, slide his sword right through my belly… and by his right. But until then I will lay among sheets, at his side comforted by his touch, entranced by his voice. I’ll allow myself this, because I know once he finds out, my dream will be over and I’ll not be long for the world.
At least… it is more comfort than Shurin gave me. At least, I can be happy like the rest of them for a little while.
War is coming, there is nothing stopping it.
We rescued a woman today, among Imperial prisoners. A fighter from an Ala Mhigan militia, or some sort. She looked at me- No… not me. She looked at her, who I used to be. Either she knew who I was, or knew what I was…
She knew, said nothing but…
I must learn more of the clan-lands. This place, these people… can I keep running forever? Eventually, I’ll have to face what I am and get over the wonders I feel hearing stories of truth-knowing stones and lords fighting over ladies. I am not a child anymore.
Twelve help me… I- (the ink is smeared over the last few words as if a finger was dragged over it, purposefully.)
21st Sun, 4th Umbral Moon, 1571
Deirdre Ta'ea 