Journal Entry: September 25th, 633
The words on the page were scribbled rather than the usual ornate and flowing style that was hers.
The poison in my blood lingers. It's grasp tight, clinging with a tenacity that lends itself to more than mere poison cast from herb tinctures.
It started a week past now, from what I thought was a mere scratch, a nail sticking out from a crate on the back loading dock catching my leg. I am beginning to wonder...
The fever lingers, rising and falling as the night edges closer. Only in the bright of the morning light do I feel any semblance of normalcy and that is scant. I found my temper short last night, my words cold and cutting. The ache in my muscles and sting of pain still as fresh as the day the 'scratch' occurred was not excuse enough for my actions.
Siro was there once more, on the steps and leaning against the wall. I invited him in but had not heart to banter with him. The day approaches that we begin the search for his mysterious crystals and I can only hope to be at full strength by then as I have no trust for the man what so ever.
Vol has succumbed to his old ways once more in the fullest extent. His addiction steals his mind and capacities. I love him, I've never denied that fact nor will I ever and yet, the disappointment I felt last night was deeper than any feeling I've had in a long time. I begin to lose hope for him and in him. It seems he will never change and that, I can not abide.
We need to gather. We need to be stronger than we have ever been. I feel it in my bones, to the very core of my soul. Change is coming and that change is not for the better.