I felt the rush of taking a life today.
He begged for mercy, weeping for his forfeited future, as I forced my dhurive through his heart.
He begged his gods, his words muttered through a mouth of blood and broken teeth.
I have never felt more connected to another, feeling his slowing heart pulse through my weapon.
I felt peace as the wind carried his last breath to my ears, as I watched his soul fight to return, to press through the hole in his chest.
I no longer feel alone, for I carry him wherever I go.
I no longer feel lost, for I have found a purpose.
I will become the force of the earth, feeding the soil with bodies.
And when I die, I hope to give life to the next.


Penned by my hand on Closday, the 3rd of Chakros, in the year 7 AC.