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[Shilukk]

ₘy ₙₐₘₑ ᵢₛ Cₕᵢₐₛₑ Yₒₘₑₛₕᵢ.
    ᵢₜ ₘᵢgₕₜ bₑ Cₕᵢₐₛₐ.
  ᵢ ₐₘ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ ₐgₑ ᵣₐₙgₑ ₒf ₁₆₋₂₀. ᵢf yₒᵤ ₐₛₖₑd ₘₑ, ᵢ wₒᵤₗd ₜₑₗₗ yₒᵤ ᵢ wₐₛ ₁₈.
 ₚₗₑₐₛₑ fₒᵣgᵢᵥₑ ₘy ₕₐₙdwᵣᵢₜᵢₙg. ᵢ ₐₘ bₗᵢₙd. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢ ᵤₛₑd ₜₒ ₛₑₑ, Bₑcₐᵤₛₑ ᵢ ₖₙₒw ₕₒw ₜₒ wᵣᵢₜₑ.
     ᵢ ₕₐᵥₑ ₙₒ ₘₑₘₒᵣᵢₑₛ.

      ₜₕₑₛₑ ₐᵣₑ ₘy ₘₑₘₒᵢᵣₛ. ₜₕₑy ₐᵣₑ fₒᵣ yₒᵤ, ₐₛ ᵢ cₐₙₙₒₜ ᵣₑₐd ₜₕₑₘ. ₚₗₑₐₛₑ ₜₑₗₗ ₜₕₑₘ ₜₒ ₘₑ ᵢf ᵢ fₒᵣgₑₜ ₐgₐᵢₙ.



ₐₗₗ ᵢ cₒᵤₗd fₑₑₗ wₕₑₙ ᵢ ⱼₒₗₜₑd ₐwₐₖₑ wₐₛ ₘy ₕₑₐᵣₜ bₑₐₜᵢₙg ᵢₙ ₘy cₕₑₛₜ. ₘy bₒdy ₐcₕₑd. ᵢ ₜᵣᵢₑd ₜₒ ₒₚₑₙ ₘy ₑyₑₛ ᵤₙₜᵢₗ ᵢ ᵣₑₐₗᵢzₑd ᵢ cₒᵤₗdₙ'ₜ ₛₑₑ. Bᵤₜ ᵢ cₒᵤₗd fₑₑₗ ₜₕₑ ₛcₐᵣₛ. ₕₑₐₗₑd, ₘₐgᵢcₐₗₗy. By wₕₒ?
          ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₐ dₑₛₑᵣₜ. ᵢₜ ₕᵤᵣₜ ₜₒ ₗₒₒₖ ᵤₚ. ₘy ᵥᵢₛᵢₒₙ wₒᵤₗd ₜᵤᵣₙ ᵣₑd. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₜₕₑ ₛᵤₙ.
    ᵢ ₛₜₐᵣₜₑd wₐₗₖᵢₙg ₜₒwₐᵣdₛ ₙₒᵢₛₑ. ᵤₚ ₛₒₘₑ ₛₜₒₙₑ ₛₜₑₚₛ. ₐ bₒₐᵣ, ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ, cₕₐᵣgₑd ₘₑ. ᵢ ᵣₑfₗₑₓᵢᵥₑₗy gᵣₐbbₑd ₐ ₛwₒᵣd ₒₙ ₘy ₕᵢₚ ₐₙd ₖᵢₗₗₑd ᵢₜ. ᵢ dᵢdₙ'ₜ ₖₙₒw ᵢ ₕₐd ₐ ₛwₒᵣd. ᵢₜ ₛₜₐᵣₜₗₑd ₘₑ. ᵢ ₘᵤₛₜ ₕₐᵥₑ bₑₑₙ ₐ fᵢgₕₜₑᵣ bₑfₒᵣₑ.
 ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ₜₕₑᵣₑ wₑᵣₑ fᵢᵥₑ ₒf ₜₕₑₘ ᵢₙ ₜₒₜₐₗ. Bₒₐᵣₛ, ᵢ ₘₑₐₙ. ₘₐybₑ ₛᵢₓ. ᵢₜ'ₛ ₐₗᵣₑₐdy ₖᵢₙd ₒf ₕₐzy. ₑᵢₜₕₑᵣ wₐy, ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢ ₑₙdₑd ᵤₚ ᵢₙ ₐ cₐᵥₑ. ₜₕₑ ₐcₒᵤₛₜᵢcₛ wₑᵣₑ ₛₜᵣₐₙgₑ. ᵢ ₖₑₚₜ ₕₑₐᵣᵢₙg cₗᵢcₖᵢₙg. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ₛₒₘₑₜₕᵢₙg cₕₐₛₑd ₘₑ. ᵢ wₐₛ ᵣᵤₙₙᵢₙg 
ₘₒₛₜ ₒf ₜₕₑ ₜᵢₘₑ. ᵢ fₑₗₜ ₗᵢₖₑ ᵢ ₖₙₑw ₕₒw ₜₒ ₘₒᵥₑ ₐᵣₒᵤₙd qᵤᵢcₖₗy wᵢₜₕₒᵤₜ ₛₑₑᵢₙg. ₗᵢₖₑ ᵢ ₕₐd fₐₛₜ ᵣₑfₗₑₓₑₛ, ₒᵣ ᵢ cₒᵤₗd ₛₑₑ ₘy ₛᵤᵣᵣₒᵤₙdᵢₙgₛ ₛₒₘₑ ₒₜₕₑᵣ wₐy. ᵢ'ₘ ₙₒₜ ₛᵤᵣₑ.

                                       ᵢ ₐₚₒₗₒgᵢzₑ. ᵢf ᵢ cₒᵤₗd ₜₑₗₗ yₒᵤ ₜₕᵢₛ wᵢₜₕ ₘy wₒᵣdₛ, ᵢₜ wₒᵤₗd ₚᵣₒbₐbₗy ₛₒᵤₙd ₘₒᵣₑ ᵢₙₜₑᵣₑₛₜᵢₙg. ᵢₜ'ₛ ₕₐᵣd ₜₒ ᵣₑₘₑₘbₑᵣ wₕₑᵣₑ ₒₙ ₜₕₑ ₚₐgₑ ᵢ ₛₜₒₚₚₑd wᵣᵢₜᵢₙg.

                 ᵢ ₛₜᵤₘbₗₑd ₜₕᵣₒᵤgₕ ₛₒₘₑ ₛₘₐₗₗ ᵥᵢₗₗₐgₑₛ. ᵢ bᵤₘₚₑd ᵢₙₜₒ ₐ ₗₐdy. ₛₕₑ ₛₐᵢd ₛₕₑ wₐₛ ₐ ₛₜₒᵣₑₖₑₑₚₑᵣ, bᵤₜ ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ₛₕₑ ₗₒₒₖₑd ₐₜ ₘₑ ₛₜᵣₐₙgₑₗy. ₐₚₚₐᵣₑₙₜₗy ᵢ ₕₐd ₘₒₙₑy. ᵢ bₒᵤgₕₜ ₜₕᵢₛ ⱼₒᵤᵣₙₐₗ wᵢₜₕ ᵢₜ, ₐₗₒₙgₛᵢdₑ ₜₕₑ cₗₒₜₕₑₛ yₒᵤ                         
      wᵢₗₗ ₕₐᵥₑ fₒᵤₙd ₘₑ ᵢₙ. ᵢ dₒₙ'ₜ ₖₙₒw wₕₐₜ ᵢ ₐₘ. ₜₕₑ ₗₐdy cₐₗₗₑd ₘₑ ₐ ₖᵢₜₛᵤₙₑ. ᵢ ₕₑₐᵣd ₚₑₒₚₗₑ ₘᵤₘbₗᵢₙg ₐbₒᵤₜ ₐ ₚₗₐcₑ cₐₗₗₑd 'ₛₕₑₙg' bₑₕᵢₙd ₘy bₐcₖ. 'Fₒₓ' cₒₘₑₛ ₜₒ ₘy ₘᵢₙd. ᵢₛ ₜₕₐₜ wₕₐₜ ᵢ ₐₘ?
ᵢ bₒᵤgₕₜ ₐ ₕₒₒd ₜₒ ₕᵢdₑ ₘy ₑₐᵣₛ. ᵢ ₛₜᵢₗₗ fₑₑₗ ₜₕₑₘ ₛₜᵢcₖᵢₙg ᵤₚ. ᵢ dₒₙ'ₜ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢₜ wₒᵣₖₛ ᵥₑᵣy wₑₗₗ, bᵤₜ ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢₜ ᵢₛ fₒᵣ ₜₕₑ bₑₛₜ.


  ₜₒdₐy ᵢ fₒᵤₙd ₐ ₚₗₐcₑ. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢₜ ᵢₛ ₐ ₗₐᵣgₑ cᵢₜy. ᵢₜ ᵢₛ ᵥₑᵣy ₗₒᵤd. ₐ bₒy cₐₗₗₑd ᵢₜ ₒₛᵣₒₙₐ. ₜₕₑ ₛₕᵢₘₘₑᵣᵢₙg cᵢₜy. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢₜ ᵢₛ ₜₕₑ cₐₚᵢₜₐₗ ₒf wₕₑᵣₑ ᵢ ₐₘ. ₜₕₑᵣₑ ₐᵣₑ ₘₐₙy ₙₐₘₑₛ ᵢₙ ₘy ₕₑₐd ₙₒw. ₜₕₑy ₐₗₗ ₛₒᵤₙd ₛₜᵣₐₙgₑ, ₐₙd fₒᵣₑᵢgₙ. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ
ₒₙₑ ₒf ₜₕₑᵢᵣ ₙₐₘₑₛ wₐₛ 'ₛₐᵣᵢₑₗ'. ₜₕᵢₛ ₙₐₘₑ ₛₒᵤₙdₛ ₛₜᵣₐₙgₑ ₜₒ ₘₑ. ᵢ ₐₚₒₗₒgᵢzₑ ᵢf ᵢₜ ᵢₛ ₗᵢₖₑ yₒᵤᵣ ₙₐₘₑ.
 ₜₕₑy wₑᵣₑ fᵢgₕₜᵢₙg. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢ fₒᵤₙd ₐₙ ₐᵣₑₙₐ. ₜₕₑy ₖₑₚₜ fᵢgₕₜᵢₙg ₒᵥₑᵣ ₐₙd ₒᵥₑᵣ. ᵢ fₑₗₜ ₘy bₒdy ₜₑₙₛₑ ₑᵥₑᵣy ₜᵢₘₑ ₐ bₗₐₛₜ ₒf ₘₐgᵢc wₑₙₜ by. ᵢ ₖₑₚₜ ᵣₑfₗₑₓᵢᵥₑₗy ᵣₑₐcₕᵢₙg fₒᵣ ₘy ₛwₒᵣd.
                             Wₕₒ ₐₘ ᵢ?

         ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ₜₕᵢₛ ᵢₛ ₑₙₒᵤgₕ fₒᵣ ₜₒdₐy. ₚₗₑₐₛₑ ᵣₑₐd ₜₕₑ ᵣₑₛₜ ₜₒ ₘₑ, ᵢf ₜₕₑᵣₑ ᵢₛ ₘₒᵣₑ. ᵢ ₚᵣₒₘᵢₛₑ ᵢₜ wᵢₗₗ ₙₒₜ ₜₐₖₑ ₗₒₙg.

[Shilukk]

ₘy ₙₐₘₑ ᵢₛ Cₕᵢₐₛₑ Yₒₘₑₛₕᵢ.
    ᵢₜ ₘᵢgₕₜ bₑ Cₕᵢₐₛₐ.
  ᵢ ₐₘ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ ₐgₑ ᵣₐₙgₑ ₒf ₁₆₋₂₀. ᵢf yₒᵤ ₐₛₖₑd ₘₑ, ᵢ wₒᵤₗd ₜₑₗₗ yₒᵤ ᵢ wₐₛ ₁₈.
 ₚₗₑₐₛₑ fₒᵣgᵢᵥₑ ₘy ₕₐₙdwᵣᵢₜᵢₙg. ᵢ ₐₘ bₗᵢₙd. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢ ᵤₛₑd ₜₒ ₛₑₑ, Bₑcₐᵤₛₑ ᵢ ₖₙₒw ₕₒw ₜₒ wᵣᵢₜₑ.
     ᵢ ₕₐᵥₑ ₙₒ ₘₑₘₒᵣᵢₑₛ.

      ₜₕₑₛₑ ₐᵣₑ ₘy ₘₑₘₒᵢᵣₛ. ₜₕₑy ₐᵣₑ fₒᵣ yₒᵤ, ₐₛ ᵢ cₐₙₙₒₜ ᵣₑₐd ₜₕₑₘ. ₚₗₑₐₛₑ ₜₑₗₗ ₜₕₑₘ ₜₒ ₘₑ ᵢf ᵢ fₒᵣgₑₜ ₐgₐᵢₙ.



ₜₒdₐy ᵢ ₘₑₜ ₛₒₘₑ ₚₑₒₚₗₑ. ₜₕₑ fᵢᵣₛₜ ₜₕᵢₙg ᵢ dᵢd wₐₛ ₘₑₑₜ ₛₒₘₑₒₙₑ ₙₐₘₑd ₗᵤcᵢᵤₛ. ₕₑ ₛₐᵢd ₕₑ wₐₛ ₜₕₑ ₚᵣᵢₙcₑ. ᵢₛₙ'ₜ ₜₕₐₜ bₐd? ₜₒ ₜₐₗₖ ₒₚₑₙₗy wᵢₜₕ ₜₕₑ ₚᵣᵢₙcₑ? ᵢ fₑₑₗ ₗᵢₖₑ ₜₕₐₜ wₒᵤₗd ₚᵤₜ ₘₑ ᵤₙdₑᵣ ₛᵤₛₚᵢcᵢₒₙ, ₐₙd ᵢ ₐₗᵣₑₐdy dₒₙ'ₜ ₖₙₒw ₕₒw ₜₒ ₐₙₛwₑᵣ ₐₙy 
    ᵢₙₜₑᵣᵣₒgₐₜᵢₒₙₛ...
            ᵢ ₕₐᵥₑ ₜₐₖₑₙ ₐ ₛₑₐₜ ₐₜ ₒₙₑ ₒf ₜₕₑ ₜₐbₗₑₛ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ ₛqᵤₐᵣₑ. ᵢ ₛᵢₜ ₜₕₑᵣₑ ₗᵢₛₜₑₙᵢₙg ₜₒ ₜₕₑ ₛₒᵤₙdₛ fₒᵣ ₘₒₛₜ ₒf ₘy ₜᵢₘₑ, ₛᵢₙcₑ ᵥᵢₛᵤₐₗ ₑₙₜₑᵣₜₐᵢₙₘₑₙₜ ₑₗᵤdₑₛ ₘₑ. ᵢ ₐₘ ₛₐₜᵢₛfᵢₑd wᵢₜₕ ₜₕᵢₛ ₛₒᵣₜ ₒf ₜₕᵢₙg, ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ. ₜₕₑy fᵢgₕₜ ₜₒ ₘy ᵣᵢgₕₜ ᵥₑᵣy ₒfₜₑₙ, bₑₕᵢₙd ₐ 
     wₐₗₗ. ᵢ bₑₗᵢₑᵥₑ ᵢₜ ᵢₛ ₜₕₑ ₐᵣₑₙₐ ᵢ cₐₘₑ ₐcᵣₒₛₛ ₜₕₑ ₙᵢgₕₜ ₚᵣᵢₒᵣ. ᵢ dₒₙ'ₜ ₖₙₒw ₕₒw ₜₕₑy fᵢgₕₜ fₒᵣ ₛₒ ₗₒₙg. ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ᵢ wₒᵤₗd gₑₜ ₜᵢᵣₑd. Bᵤₜ ₘy bₒdy ₖₑₑₚₛ ₚᵤₗₗᵢₙg ₘₑ ₜₒwₐᵣdₛ ₜₕₑ ₛₒᵤₙd. ₘy ₕₑₐᵣₜ ₛₜₐᵣₜₛ ᵣₐcᵢₙg ₐₙd ᵢ cₐₙ'ₜ cₐₗₘ ₘy ₕₐₙdₛ dₒwₙ. 
       ₜₕₑy fₗₑₓ ₐ ₗₒₜ, ₐₙd ᵢ ₜᵣy ₜₒ ᵣₑₐcₕ fₒᵣ ₘy dₐggₑᵣ ₒᵣ ₘy ₛwₒᵣd ₐₜ ₐₗₘₒₛₜ ₑᵥₑᵣy cₗₐₛₕ. ᵢ ₘᵤₛₜ ₕₐᵥₑ bₑₑₙ ₐ fᵢgₕₜₑᵣ. ᵢ cₐₙ ₒₙₗy ₕₒₚₑ ₜₕₐₜ ᵢ fₒᵤgₕₜ fₒᵣ ₜₕₑ ᵣᵢgₕₜ ᵣₑₐₛₒₙ.

  ᵢ gₒ ₒₙ wₐₗₖₛ ₒᵤₜₛᵢdₑ ₐ ₗₒₜ. ₜₒ ₗᵢₛₜₑₙ ₜₒ ₙₐₜᵤᵣₑ, ₐₙd wₕₐₜ ₙₒₜ. Bᵤₜ wₕₑₙ ᵢ wₑₙₜ ₒᵤₜₛᵢdₑ yₑₛₜₑᵣdₐy, ᵢ ₕₑₐᵣd ₛₒₘₑₜₕᵢₙg ₗₐᵣgₑ ₙₒₜ fₐᵣ ₒᵤₜₛᵢdₑ ₜₕₑ gₐₜₑ. ₛₒₘₑₜₕᵢₙg wᵢₜₕ fₒᵤᵣ ₗₑgₛ, ₒᵣ ₜwₒ ₜₕᵢₙgₛ wᵢₜₕ ₜwₒ ₗₑgₛ. ᵢ ₕₑₐᵣd ₘₑₙₜᵢₒₙ ₒf dₑₘₒₙₛ wₕₑₙ ᵢ 
         ᵣₑₜᵤᵣₙₑd. Wₑᵣₑ ₜₕₑy ₜₐₗₖᵢₙg ₐbₒᵤₜ ₜₕₒₛₑ? ₐᵣₑ ₜₕₑy dₑₘₒₙₛ? ᵢ ₕₑₐᵣd ₜₕₑ ₛₒᵤₙdₛ ₒf ₐ fᵢgₕₜ ₛₒₒₙ ₐfₜₑᵣ. Wₑᵣₑ ₜₕₑy fᵢgₕₜᵢₙg ₜₕₑ dₑₘₒₙₛ? ᵢ ₕₑₐᵣd wᵢₙg fₗₐₚₛ. ᵢ ₐₘ ᵤₙcₑᵣₜₐᵢₙ wₕₐₜ ᵢ ₛₜᵤₘbₗₑd ᵤₚₒₙ. ᵢf ₒₙₗy ᵢ cₒᵤₗd ₛₑₑ... ᵢ ₕᵢd ᵢₙ ₐ fₒᵣₑₛₜ wₕₑᵣₑ 
    ₜₕₑ ₛₒᵤₙd ₚₑₙₑₜᵣₐₜₑd ₜₕₑ ₗₑₐₛₜ. ₜₕₐₜ'ₛ ₕₒw ᵢ ₖₙₑw ₜₕₑy wₒᵤₗdₙ'ₜ ₛₑₑ ₘₑ. ᵢ ₕₒₚₑ ₜₕₑy dᵢdₙ'ₜ.

  ᵢ ₘₑₜ ₛₒₘₑₒₙₑ ₙₐₘₑd ₗyₜₕₐₙᵢₑₗ. ₕₑ ₐffₒᵣdₑd ₘₑ ₜₕₑ ᵣₒₒₘ ᵢ'ₘ wᵣᵢₜᵢₙg ₜₕᵢₛ ᵢₙ. ᵢ ₗₑₐᵣₙₑd ₜₕₐₜ ₕₑ dₒₑₛₙ'ₜ ₕₐᵥₑ ₐₙy ₘₑₘₒᵣᵢₑₛ ₗᵢₖₑ ₘₑ. ₕₑ ₛₐᵢd ₕₑ wₒₖₑ ᵤₚ ₜₒdₐy. ᵢₜ ₛᵤᵣₚᵣᵢₛₑd ₘₑ. ₕₑ ₜₕᵢₙₖₛ ₜₕₐₜ ₜₕₑᵣₑ ₘᵢgₕₜ bₑ ₛₒₘₑₜₕᵢₙg bᵢggₑᵣ gₒᵢₙg ₒₙ ₜₕₐₙ ₐ 
    cᵢᵣcᵤₘₛₜₐₙₜᵢₐₗ ᵢₙcₒₙᵥₑₙᵢₑₙcₑ. ₕₑ ₜₐₗₖₑd ₐbₒᵤₜ ₚₑₒₚₗₑ bₑᵢₙg ₛₐcᵣᵢfᵢcₑd. Bᵤₜ ₕₑ wₐₛ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ ₘₒᵤₙₜₐᵢₙₛ. ᵢ wₒₖₑ ᵤₚ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ dₑₛₑᵣₜ, fₐᵣ ₜₒ ₜₕₑ wₑₛₜ. ₕₑ ₐₗₛₒ dᵢdₙ'ₜ wₐₖₑ ᵤₚ wᵢₜₕ ₛcₐᵣₛ. ᵢ ₐₗₘₒₛₜ ₕₒₚₑ ₜₕₐₜ ₜₕₑy ₐᵣₑₙ'ₜ cₒₙₙₑcₜₑd, bᵤₜ... Wₕₐₜ ᵢf ₜₕₑy ₐᵣₑ?

                 ᵢ ₜₕᵢₙₖ ₜₕᵢₛ ᵢₛ ₑₙₒᵤgₕ fₒᵣ ₜₒdₐy. ᵢf ₜₕₑᵣₑ ᵢₛ ₘₒᵣₑ, ₚₗₑₐₛₑ ᵣₑₐd ᵢₜ ₜₒ ₘₑ. ᵢ ₕₒₚₑ ᵢₜ wₒₙ'ₜ ₜₐₖₑ ₗₒₙg...

[Shilukk]

It occurred to me sometime that I didn't know what to write anymore. How take it, and put it on paper. So much had happened.
So much.

Even as I pressed pen to paper for the hundredth time I still didn't know how to express what I felt.

A long time ago, I met someone named Lythaniel. I made a promise to him. That we would build a bath house, because that stupid city state of Osrona didn't have a public bath for us to use. A dream born out of spite, but we never let go of it.
Today, I will be fighting against Osrona in a war.
I will most likely die.
How am I supposed to write this sort of thing down..?

There will be blood on my hands. Whether its mine or someone else's.

I live for that rush, I suppose.

Lythaniel told me he wanted to settle down after we built the bath house. That he wanted us to have a house. I always hated kids. I didn't have much of a childhood growing up, I suppose. After all the things I do to him, too...
We started dating a few months after we met. I remember I clenched my fists so tight that my hands started bleeding, because I'd punctured my skin with my claws. He was dense. He didn't get it. Until he did, I suppose. Because here we are.
I can't believe I'd be so selfish.
I don't care about New Tannen. Every person I've met here could die today and I wouldn't bat an eye. The only life that matters here is mine. I even forbade Lythaniel from coming with me. We argued about it. I won, eventually.
I always win. I'm starting to resent it.
Because I know I'm going to lose once. And it's going to destroy me when I do.

I don't want to settle down. I don't want to have a family. But I don't want to lose him. I don't want to die.
I would rather die than lose him.
My head's a mess. It always is when I think about him. It makes me wonder how I became the person I am. I don't know how he fell for me.
I really am selfish.
I'm overprotective of him. I'd probably break all a girl's fingers if she looked at him funny. I even put my quarters between the entrance and his so that I could protect him if someone broke in. Because I don't think he can protect himself. The gap between us is so small, but I can't stop myself. Because I didn't have any thing to live for when I woke up, and I only have him now. I used to be weaker than him. I drove myself into the ground training because I knew it wasn't good enough. I suppose the turning point was when I, bloodied and bruised, struck down a Grodolom. A thing I had fallen to before. But I heard it strike him. I heard him hit the ground. I realized that I needed to win.
I never really understood being empowered by your friends until then. I've never shaken so much. The weight of reality fully bearing down on me. If I lost, that was it. I realized that, then.
Today, I destroyed one. A Grodolom. I went into that lair again, and killed it without much thought.
I'm glad to know I'm better.
I hope it's enough.

I don't know what to write. So I won't write anything. Because if I left him without a goodbye, I would hate myself.
So I'll just have to live.

[Shilukk]

People, I suppose, mean little to me. The more I remember, the less, I realize, I care.

I still feel the burn on my eye that kid gave me. Impassively; he botched a kill shot. I should have died. But, impassively nonetheless. No lasting harm meant. He'd gone for my neck, I think. So it's a good thing I always keep my head straight to my body. That low stance I take is the only reason I'm alive. But, he missed. And he recognized his fault. Like a faulty guillotine, here I walk, a reminder of his failure. An impassive fate he meant to deliver; the way any war is fought, and the way I was raised to kill. And yet I'd kill him if I had the chance. I don't care how unfairly, how petty; I'd kill him in a heartbeat, out of spite.
So, I don't care about other people. I refuse to believe I can; I abandoned Lythaniel. Without so much as a goodbye. Dropped him, my promises to him, the bathhouse; everything. As if it meant nothing. It must've, if I dropped it so easily. I left him in New Tannen and deserted. Hell, I left this.. Place, altogether. Put a good bit of my funds into trying to get to Sheng. Figured, somehow, anybody'd be better off without me here.
Didn't like what I met. Almost died again. A running theme with me, I find. A rather pressing one at that, and the reason I'm here again. Some pale, blind fool stumbling around the Osrona-Tannen border. I liked the cloak New Tannen hands out as part of the uniform, so I blacked out the insignia to wear it around like normal. But... I wonder if that Mik.. Mikhael, or something; I wonder if that guy followed up. Wonder if I'd get killed on sight. Wonder if Lythaniel's there to do it. Wouldn't that be poetic? Maybe it should happen like that. He's probably stronger than me now, anyway. I'd be a burden if he took pity and a bug if he didn't. But I'll tell him he'll never be good enough anyway. Tell him he's too slow, like I used to. Maybe that'll clear his conscience. I had to be some sort of sociopath.

I've stopped recording my memories. Partly because I don't really want to remember, and partly because I can't be bothered to. Things lack weight; they don't feel important. Nothing matters to me. The extent of my life is continuing to be alive. Nothing matters. I hate it.
I would, at this point, consider my amnesia the result of my near-death experience fleeing from Sheng. Where I stood for the first time is likely where I collapsed from pain. Why the amnesia; I can only assume some attempt from a higher power to piss me off. And it worked, so I can't much say anything. That is to say, I doubt it would happen again. There seem to be selective ways of inducing amnesia through alchemy, so perhaps magic or something of the like is to blame. I can't say I really care about that, either.
I was a nicer person when I didn't remember anything; it's a shame people got attached to that.
I don't really care about people. I wasn't raised to. It'd be counterintuitive to do so.
And yet the more I remember, the less I like who I am. Offered a taste, perhaps, of what it's like to be a normal person; I can't say I hated that. But it's not something I should have, and I'm not something they should deal with. Some sort of vile, possessive thing. Despicable, and violent.