It is said that most days one lives are just a bridge between important events in life, the truly important days. I can no longer look at life in this way, however. This day was an important one, but what I would not give to have just one day, one moment of my prior life back.
Tonight, Father was lost to me as he bravely held off Blackwold assailants while ordering me to flee to the village for help. Somehow, I managed to elude capture and made it there just in time to aid in the village’s defense. There were so many heroes that night, not the least of whom were Jon Brackenbrook and his dear father, who sadly perished as well. Our only comfort is knowing that they faced death with courage and grace, and that it was their will to sacrifice themselves for us.
I made it hard on you, Mother, but in the end you taught me well that much of one’s happiness and outlook is a conscious choice. In the days ahead, I will try to remember that we were able to drive the bandits back and all the dear folk we were able to save. But I lost you when I was but ten years old. Why now, when I am just coming of age and need him more than ever, did I have to lose my father?
And dearest Beckham, my beloved. Though our love was just beginning to bloom, like the spring flowers upon the hills where we would go to spend lazy days in each others’ arms, I will never forget you. You will always be with me, in my heart.
For now, I give myself over to the rebuilding of the village.