It's late, but I decided to write my thoughts down for a moment.
I remember a long time ago, before I had ever seen war. Times were better then. Love was easier to find, because your heart hadn't grown into a hunk of iron yet. You let war consume you. You let it seep into the rock that is your flesh. It was you, Azkas, who forgot how to show compassion.
But did I forget? No, but I did shut everyone else out from my mind. My days fighting in war are not finished yet, and we all know this. I have not felt so drained in my entire life. Am I worth a damn thing anymore?
Thorbeck, that bastard. I love the lad to death, and would kill for him just like anyone else, but he can find a good lass to keep him company with no effort at all. Yet here I am, alone, for two centuries. Death will not take grip of my throat fast enough.
Though I must keep going. They depend on me for survival.
