Sunlight streamed in through their window, made brighter as it reflected off pristine snow. Culgan didn’t particularly care about that at the moment, he was writing in the journal Seed had teased him about once ( Read more... )

Writing in a journal was a habit he had picked up long ago, but one he had not kept up with anytime in the recent past. Paper was not something most soldiers could afford to buy all the time, and though he could access his own small fortune he preferred to live as any other soldier. Now, with no wars to be fought, he found himself mostly at loose ( Read more... )