(This leather bound book has yellow, worn pages that look to have suffered some water damage at some point, burn marks marring the cracked, worn out leather. A piece of black cord wrapped several times around the edge keeps the journal closed when not in use.
The writing within is delicate but hurried, somewhat spidery strokes and lines forming Courtelli words, Arian's native language. It is a roman alphabet, however.)
I slept. No nightmares. The past is a lot less haunting once one has suffered something worse.
I thought about firing up the furnaces, making glass. I better wait, try to be patient. Still weak, still getting dizzy easy.
The Pits. Clarissa and I were broken after Ellen. We plodded along day after day, chipping at the glowing blue ore and watching them haul it away towards the ring. I think the monster ate it, or something. Maybe horded it. I don't know.
Point is, the Enforcers took our deadened eyes and numbness for what it was-weakness. We weren't watched as closely. Eventually, we weren't watched at all. Two weakened, dying women really weren't a big deal.
And that's when we escaped. An old service tunnel, probably used when they had been building the place, had been discovered one night by one of the other miners. He didn't dare follow it to see where it went, afraid he'd be missed-and superstitious it was a trap, another cruel attempt to toy with us.
One night he told Clarissa about it. For the first time in days I was awake. I was thinking. We were going to escape. We were going to get out and then come back with whoever would come with us.
We followed the tunnel to an old steel ladder. We started to climb. We had what water we could spare over the past few days, some rations-but I think even we underestimated just how far down we were.
Must have been miles...my hands were hardly usuable, bandaged and swollen, as mutilated as they were. I couldn't really close my fingers around the rungs, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I wasn't going to die down there, having never said goodbye.
We got to the first and only landing after some time of climbing when Clarissa threw up what little was in her stomach again. We both knew what the increased sicknesses meant, but wouldn't say.
When she couldn't climb anymore, I stayed with her. Talked about Courtelli. She mostly told me about it, since I had left so early, had only really seen the Lennox Manor, the old church temple.
She asked if I would come back for her body and put it out to sea, so that the waters could take her home.
I climbed the remaining miles alone. It was dark when I surfaced, but even the stars seemed too bright, the cool air in my lungs, the feel of grass beneath my hands and knees as I crawled out of the fissure-I cried.
For the first time since Naria's death, I cried like a child. I was free but my comrades were dead, I was free but I hadn't saved any of them, I was free but I was alone.
I think I slept. Briefly, but I did.
Then I got up, tried to see where I was-and made sure I knew where the hole was, so that I could come back. I went to Vanessa's, I asked for healing. I collapsed into a coma.
She could only do so much for my hands, but they are usable again, at least. She confirmed what I had guessed at-the mineral had been poisonous to me, to us-toxic to humans. My system had been wracked with the exposure-and what was worse, it had been coursing through my blood for weeks. Traces of mineral in my brain, my heart, my lungs-shards in my hands.
I'm going to die, and even Vanessa has no idea how to save me.
This is why records are no longer important. Bounty hunters have moved on to other prey, and I'm still here-suffering from a near cancer, without my Exiles and their loss heavy on my heart.
I didn't expect Thalius to understand. I told him. I let him go. He didn't want to be sent away, I don't think, but it was the right thing to do. After a year, the continued absence shouldn't be as hard. I loved him once. I feel so much older now.
And Hikaru...Tristan has moved to take my place in the boy's life. My brother does not know I am dying, and I will not tell him.
And Kino...Kino and I spoke. All my loose ends are wrapped up-all I do now is plan and wait.
I do not know if I will search for a cure. I...no longer know my purpose. I don't know if I ever did. I've worked so terribly hard to survive, first in defiance, and now...what?
I wanted to make things right for the people who can't fend for themselves. I wasn't a hero. We, the Exiles-we weren't heroes. We were warriors outcasted from our home and we were -angry-. We wanted to help because dammit that's exactly what no one expected us to do.
What no one expected me to do. I fought to defy my fate, my brand. Fought because I was afraid of surrender.
And now I refuse to be afraid. I know I will die. Question is...will I let it happen sooner, or later?
Do I even have a choice?
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