Grip — EP54 Journal

I want to scream. I want to rage. I want to immolate this ship. I want to boil the sea and ignite the sky. Why would she do this? I can understand sacrifice. I know it well from all sides. My teacher sacrificed himself to a noble cause. My mother sacrificed her children to save herself. My sister sacrificed herself to save me. I hated my teacher for his blithe decision to destroy himself. I hated my mother for abandoning us. I can even chart the path that led Figulus to give herself to the gravedigger so I might escape from his domain. I cannot say the same for Weisa. Oh, Okatla, scion of the Dreadmother of Night of Death. Was this somehow her doing? I do not believe that this was her time. I do not accept it. I hate it. That is not who I will carry with me. No. The shard of thy soul I claim as mine own is that which made you follow me in seeking an audience with Tecpatl. Despite the danger that spoke to me, in the tongue of my sires, who understood my burdens better than any other. Delightful curiosity, am I. Pray to your waning goddess that we do not cross paths again, witch, or I will visit upon thee a doom worthy of a Quettle himself.