Weisa — EP4 Journal

This journey back to Juramentum is bringing up all sorts of memories for me. I look at these refugees and see myself, all of us ripped from the root of our lives due to others. Carelessness, unconsciousness, inconceivable greed. It's dizzying to really look at. And yet I must. I can tell they know something better awaits them. I see it in their stride and how they receive Titus words. And yet the loss is still huge. I see the children look to me for reassurance that all will be well, that this nightmare is really some kind of stroke of luck. So I smile and I play with them, similar to how Publia has smiled and played with me in the days of my own escape. How those days would have gone without her humor and confidence, I do not know. Publia gave me freedom in so many ways. Freedom to live a life beyond the oppression of my mother, of course, but also freedom to process the horror in my own time. Seeing the people of Pulex, I realize I'm still processing it, although three winters have passed. They will do fine as I have done fine. They will grow stronger as I have grown stronger. The children will raise themselves, and they will come to love Juramentum. At least they have each other. Whereas I only have myself to remind me of where I come from. Never matter. It's hard to not want to slice the heads of the cowardly nobility. How little I think of them, and how righteous their downfall truly is. I wouldn't mind being a part of it. In fact, I would quite enjoy it. And isn't it incredible? I am feeling some sort of empathy for the creature that we decimated outside the bog. It appears he too had been grappling with his own version of oppression. From what, exactly, I am unsure. How bewildering, though to taste this beast's blood and feel his profound rage echo through me. All to realize that it mirrors the rhythm of my own. I know we still have some trekking to do before we hit the walls of Juramentum, but how freeing those walls feel right now.