29
[Written privately]
He is gone.
It would be foolish to think that a departure is a sorrowful thing. This world should not be. We were not meant to be here. He has returned to his rightful place in his own world, just as each of us will eventually.
And yet I find no joy in this.
It is for the best. The temptation is gone.
[She writes nothing for quite some time, resting her head back against the frame of the window she has perched herself in. Her eyes glance out at the single blue moon above her. It serves as a reminder that this is not her world, a fact she often forgets. Looking down at the page, she admits to herself...]
I will miss him a great deal.
[She drops her quill, letting it fall to the floor. Then, she speaks, voice somewhat monotonous to mask how she feels.]
Alistair has returned to his own world.
[With that, she closes the journal. She doesn't feel like talking about it.]
He is gone.
It would be foolish to think that a departure is a sorrowful thing. This world should not be. We were not meant to be here. He has returned to his rightful place in his own world, just as each of us will eventually.
And yet I find no joy in this.
It is for the best. The temptation is gone.
[She writes nothing for quite some time, resting her head back against the frame of the window she has perched herself in. Her eyes glance out at the single blue moon above her. It serves as a reminder that this is not her world, a fact she often forgets. Looking down at the page, she admits to herself...]
I will miss him a great deal.
[She drops her quill, letting it fall to the floor. Then, she speaks, voice somewhat monotonous to mask how she feels.]
Alistair has returned to his own world.
[With that, she closes the journal. She doesn't feel like talking about it.]