I was walking through the streets into town when I overheard the gossip. I only heard some of it, I confess. But Artin. Something was wrong. Lei had attacked Artin. Lord… I needed to see him. Quickly.

I ran to the triage. Nearly punched through a Nursia.

The Morgue was cold. So were his hands. His eyes. His face. His chest. He was far too cold for life… That blank stare, the stare of death. Will it ever cease to gnaw at my soul? I fear it. I always have. What life shall he have, now? What death? His dull, decaying eyes keep fixed on my face.

We had fought, last we spoke. He was angry at me, in some ways, and I him. But Lord… Oh Lord. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

And the last words I told him were get out.

How shall I ever forgive myself?

A young man and woman speak in the gardens together. With one lame arm, he prepares his horse to leave. The woman is of Farin descent, but with piercing sapphire eyes that follow the man’s moves as he paces, slowly. She is on her knees beside a bed of flowers, weeding, as they talk. Worry and frustration etch her brow, and his face shows signs of hurt. The voices sound distant, just clips of their argument quietly overheard.

…Make a choice. You do not have time….

…don’t you -dare- say it. I care for you, and you know it. I cry for you, Artin. You bloody know I do… During the mass. I was there. I thought I’d lost you, and I cried. How can you say I didn’t care?…

..You hurt me, Nayiv. But I am used to hurt, so I do not mind… 

…Go. Just go. I need peace from this. Get out…

The Vandagan obliges. Once he rides off and the gates close, the young woman falls to her knees. Alone, with her head in her hands, she cries.




I still find it awfully strange, being back. Especially now that I am no longer a Reeve. Everything just feels… lost, without serving a greater purpose. I much enjoy the Physicians, that much is for certain. The medicine, the saving lives… it is all wonderful. However, I feel detached from what goes on throughout the city, and lost without the scales of justice upon my back.

Saving lives is different from serving them, I suppose. I have always taken medicine as a way to balance out the scales of my soul. For some reason, it eases the sting of death, knowing that, just as you take, you can also give. But without the taking, for some strange reason, I also feel lost. Without the purpose, without all the training and survival, the bloodshed and drive, I feel alone.

I cannot go back though. Not without good reason. It’s too hard, going from leader to watching their struggles from a backseat. I must let Max take his turn. But… I suppose I shall still be here. If the city needs me once more.


The last time that you were arrested, I played nice. I took a finger, questioned nicely, and when you escaped, I hated myself on the inside. This month has been pure abyss, plain and simple. All that magery, all those letters and messengers and strange dreams? And I now know that it was you. You even dared admit it to me, sitting in that interrogation chair, with a smile on your face. And I hate you for it.

We had tea today, the tea you always wanted us to have. It was delicious. Torture and tea, that’s the relationship between us, hm? I learned so much about you, and we had such a lovely time. Our last time, before I see you burn. But I was still angry.

So I gave you a present, this time around. Something to remember me by. So that even if you escape, even if you manage to get away from me again, you’ll -never- be able to walk through this city without hiding your face from the Urth. It’s right on your cheeks, carved with my own knife. The eye of Justice, and the letters ‘N.R.’ My initials, so that even when you burn, I’ll know it was my handiwork that brought you up in flames.

Sweet dreams, dear friend of mine. Sweet dreams.


When I was young, playing in the gardens, I found a dying baby bird. It was too young and small, and someone or something in the course of their lives had knocked it from it’s place in the trees. I wanted it to live, so I rushed inside to bring it to my father, a strong, tall Farin man with the fair, rounded belly of an old soldier and a laugh so deep and merry none could help but smile to.

I remember him like that, the aroma of his pipe in a warm, comforting aroma around him, medical bag sitting by his foot while I sat on his knee. The only time he was stern with me was when I disturbed his patients or when I had made mother worry. He sat behind his desk then, reading papers and looking through his logs, ink stains on his sleeves.

“Papa!” I called to him, holding the little thing in my hands like it were a doll, wrapped in one of mother’s handkerchiefs. I run to the side of the desk and held it up to him. My best child’s attempt at a pleading gaze was given, paired with a trembling lower lip. “Fix it for me, make it better.”

He frowned, and with all the seriousness of a man comforting his only child, drew me up onto his knee. “We shall have to examine the little fellow,” He explains, face set gravely as he stroked his beard. An examination followed and he carefully peered over the bird with a magnifying lens, prodding with a single finger. I watch, those wide blue eyes that mark me as certainly not pureblood of my Father’s race peering over his wide arms to my patient.

“What’s wrong with him, Papa?” I asked, once he seems finished and begins to once more tend to his pipe. “What can I do to make him better?”

He was silent for a long moment. “We cannot save every patient, sunshine,” He reminds, quietly, pensively, as he looks down at me on his knee. “Sometimes the Lord calls to a creature’s soul, when they haven’t the strength to stay on Urth any longer.”

Tears fell down my face as I began to cry over the creature that could not be saved. Father pulls me against my chest, silent comfort given in his embrace even as my sobs begin to fade. My father was right that day, as he often was. As my tears dried and we looked back to the baby bird, we found that his little heart had ceased to beat.

Eight years later, I was heading off to the university. I had grown up around medicine and scholasticism, immersed in the environment I eventually grew to love, so even with years before my En Passant, I felt prepared to study beyond my tutor’s guidance. Petite child features and baby plumpness in my cheeks had long since given way to the well known bloom of growth in a Farin child, and although I would not reach the nearly seven-foot giants because of my Lithmorran blood, I had well surpassed my mother, and showed no signs of stopping soon. An awkward beanpole frame, lacking in the curves of womanhood or even a fraction of grace kept my confidence in appearance a minimum, but I did know my strength lay in the knowledge I would soon collect.

I once more stepped into my father’s study, showing off the stack of heavy tomes tucked under my arm and the blazing university insignia embroidered upon my tunic. To my mother’s dismay, I often tried to replace corsets and bodices with such things, even going so far as to borrow breeches from my male friends so I could ride astride during explorations of the nearby desert. “Father?” I asked, trying to rouse him from whatever focus he now held.

My father’s gaze rose to me, and his ebon eyes crinkled at the corners with warmth and pride. “Come here, my child. Let me see you one last time.” As I stepped towards him, he rose to meet me with the creak and pop of limbs worn down from decades of wear. Grey now streaked his hair, but his eyes held the same warmth and his smile the same deep, jovial strength it always had. “What will your mother and I do around here, without our sunshine?”

A smile touched my lips, shy and unsure, but not lacking in care. “I’ll be back, Papa,” I promise him. “It’s just for a few years. I’ll learn quick, you’ll see.”

He chuckled, full and bright, shaking his head as he pulled me into his embrace. “You have the wanderer’s spirit, my child. The same as what blows the desert sand around us and wills the clouds to roll across the sky. I’ve seen it. After you study, you will see the whole of this Urth. Change it even, if the Lord blesses you so.” A hand reached into his vest pocket, and out comes a bracelet of delicate silver links, holding a rounded, smooth stone of lapis lazuli, engraved with a cluster of tiny words upon its flat plane, and in an open hand, he offered it to me. “For you. To remind you.”

I took it from him, holding it up to the light as I struggled to read the tiny print and comprehend what it says. When I finally did, tears lined my eyes. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll keep it always,” I promise him. We spoke for a few moments more, once more moving to embrace, and then I turned to go.

I saw my father only one more time before traveling to Lithmore. Once more, as I always had, I entered his study. I was a fully fledged Physician now, also having studied law and battle strategy within the University. I had a medical bag in hand and a muddy traveling cloak around me from the rainy season’s roads. We did not speak long- the Reeves were expecting me to Lithmore, and before nightfall I had to have crossed the border from Farin to make time. He had become older, frailer, but he still kept to his work with all the joy he always had, and the jolly smile still touched his face with every greeting.

We spoke like colleagues then, discussing medical experiences, talking about new practices and methods of treatments. But once we had finished and it was time for me to go, he pulled me into his embrace and gave me one more piece of advice: “Stay whole for all who love you, and remember to care, Sunshine. When you stop caring for the baby birds, you have lost all that will make you great.”

So here I am. At my desk, alone. I am not certain what father meant, when he told me that, and I doubt that the tears currently brushing my cheeks apply, but all the same they fall. I fear for my future sometimes, and for the future of all those who look to me for control and command. I no longer follow orders, except that of the Queen and the Lord who guides us all. I am order. I am law. I am Justice. And while the scales will fall as they may, I will always seek their balance. I will always guide the kingdom to righteousness.