Alyona Ravenhelm: 2 Mirtul, 1373

My father is gone. It is my world now. Yet, what has changed? I thought the day of my freedom could never come soon enough - but now I wish it had never come at all. I feel empty, confused about what my father may have written in his journals. Did he love The Vast more than he loved me? I can only think of fire. The fire in the hearth downstairs, the fire that will be daddy's final pyre, the heat of her kiss, the light in my lantern, the burning desire in my heart to adventure. My burning, breaking heart. I need the cool rain to soothe me, I can handle this on my own.