Journal Entry #4: Gone

It’s cold here…
 
There’s very little company. I wouldn’t expect there to be. But still, it’s lonely. You don’t make friends here. She doesn’t visit often; the hag. More pressing matters, I think she said. How long ago, I can’t remember. Everything’s become quite hazy. But she doesn’t come here often. Not at all.
 
But he’s always here. He’s always watching. With that blue eye of his.
 
I can’t say much else. God knows what will happen if this falls into their hands. But I can’t stop writing. This isn’t where the story ends. This can’t be where the story ends. I need you now more than ever.
 
Where are you, Eos?
 
There’s no use lamenting. If I run, where would I go? And if I yell, who will hear me? No, there’s no use lamenting at all. I am here, and you are not. And no amount of wishes or prayers can change that.
 
But I can reminisce. The battles we fought. The people we helped. The taverns we drank our worries away in. Never thought I’d miss the Feywild.
 
But you won’t come, will you? You might even be dead.
 
Please don’t be dead.
 
I can hear the footsteps. Duty calls.
 
It’s frightfully cold here.