4A 667, Harvest, the Abyssal War

Cloistered within these walls I can convince myself I'm safe. It would be a blatant lie. Priestess Eylvi would smack my knuckles if she caught me speaking out of turn, but I have a feeling she would understand and reason with this falsehood. The Elves have brought ruin to the Kingdom of Tiore once before, why wouldn't they again?

It's with these thoughts upon my mind that I write this only a few hours before I'm meant to be awake and tending to the wounded with the priestess. I haven't yet slept. I fear the shadows when I close my eyes. Only thoughts of those I still pray for distract me when the world seems blanketed in darkness.

Father shall be returning soon, and I can only hope that he makes it back before my fifteenth birthday. He hasn't missed a single one of my birthdays. Each year the priestess tells me not to wait for him, that he must focus on the war. Each year I wait and he's yet to disappoint me. Some days it feels as though his return is the only thing I wait for anymore. Not the end of the war, not the ruination of Tiore, but his return to safety.

I should try to sleep. The priestess tells me yet another group of refugees arrived late in the night and that they were attacked on their journey. I pray to the Spirits that Father doesn't fall victim to such attacks on his road back to these crumbling walls.

4A 669, Snowfall, the Abyssal War

Priestess Eylvi died today. The cold got into her bones and took her in the night. It was a peaceful passing which is more than I can say for many of the people in service to the Dark King. Damn his soul to the Abyss from which he came, why would he start this war if he had no intention of ending it?

I ask this as though I expect an answer. I don't. The Spirits never answer. Priestess Eylvi isn't here anymore to pester me about keeping my faith. Faith does little to help me save a soldier's life, all of which have now been entrusted into my care. There's no one skilled enough to take charge, the priestess never had enough time for more than one apprentice. I feel the lives of this army weigh upon my shoulders.

More continue to perish, and I am helpless. No one blames me, but I blame me. What is the purpose of a healer when I can't save their lives? They trusted me, the priestess trusted me, yet they still die.

I cannot unsee the things I have seen. I cannot wash this stain from my hands. Spirits guide us all, when will these crimson rivers subside?

4A 670, Harvest, the Abyssal War

Father didn't make it back for my birthday this year.

Father's body wasn't recovered in Bielfrit where he fell, instead he's been left to the mercy of the coming cold like his service meant nothing.

They tell me he fought for the city bravely, yet we still lost it. They tell me he didn't die in vain, yet we still lost the damn city.

I placed a white rose upon his empty grave on my eighteenth birthday today. He always liked them, he said they reminded him of my mother. He rarely spoke of her.

It's time I returned to my duties.

4A 671, Bloom

The last battle between Elves and Humans on the field of Secodin took place weeks ago, but we're still transporting our dead back over the border.

It wasn't worth it, they can't tell me it was worth it. They tell me I can't know that for I didn't see the state of Humans before the war, born after it began. But they can't tell me that for they were not a healer within the walls of the Kingdom.

No, not the Kingdom anymore, but the Hold. The Elves couldn't just take our land, they also had to destroy the monarchy. As though they haven't done enough these past three decades.

I saw thousands die and many more lose their futures.

They can't tell me it was worth it when I was born into the war and I don't know what a land without war looks like. I was born without freedom when that's what we were meant to be fighting for. Our home is now our prison because of the White Rose Treaty. Now we simply live without the chains around our wrists.

The Dark King has disappeared. The land is in poverty. The Abyssal War may be over, but I know the fight is not finished. Hatred cannot be abolished by a simple treaty. I fear for what the future holds and what my role in it will be.

Spirits save us all.