3/27/365
Why? Why is it that every time I have happiness within my grasp it is torn viciously away? Why is it that I must watch those I called friends die or disappear on me, while I still remain? So often I wish I could join them, to be free of the constant depression that this life offers. Part of me wishes Orban had just let the demon have me, perhaps then I could have died with a hint of honor, instead of being forced to haunt the halls of this home I built for a family that is not meant to be.
Cambrea… Why did you leave? What happened to you? Everything fell apart when you left. You and I always use to joke how we were like two halves of the same mind, yet I look back and I begin to wonder if we were not actually speaking the truth. The day I stopped receiving reports from you is the day a small part of me died. No longer did I have my grand master, my friend, that I could show my weakness to. Slowly my paranoia, my fears, my past began to catch up with me, and there was no one to confide in, no one to talk me out of the paranoia. Even as I sit here writing this I desperately hold back the tears, tears for the friend I lost.
Even Gerolf has been claimed by the corruption of this city, his death hidden. I can accept the order hiding the true cause of his death, but they don’t even have the decency to give him a proper burial. Yet even with his death I find the most prevalent thought going through my mind to be the most worrying; Who will I lose next, and when will it be my turn?