away with a deeper well, with more power than me.
And I could not bear to look at my father’s face. All of his hope had been resting on me for our mission, and now it is waning, and I know he will not think I am capable, strong enough.
Why am I even writing this down?
Perhaps, though, to write it down is to find release. To find some catharsis.
And so I press this memory to papyrus and hope it will soon become iron, something to sharpen me.
This scroll was not at all what Evadne had thought it would be. And she continued to read his journal, knowing this was the path he had forged for himself, the path he would take to remember. He had an entry for every day. He always wrote about what had happened that day, even if it was something small, insignificant. And her heart started to pound as she drew closer to their meeting, knowing what was coming . . .
9th Day of Archer’s Moon
My brother is dead.
My brother is dead, and I am coming undone.
11th Day of Archer’s Moon
My brother is dead. And my father is missing. And I do not know what happened.
I do not have the strength to endure this.
19th Day of Archer’s Moon
Halcyon killed Xander. I can hardly fathom this. My father finally sent word and has informed us that we must travel to Abacus at once.
Evadne had to stop reading. To stand and walk about her room. She lit her lamp, for evening had come. Eventually, she sat on her bed again and cried as she continued reading his entries of the hard days, the painful days when the truth came together and Halcyon had to take the fall.
And then she came to these lines: I did not know that Halcyon had a younger sister. She sat across the assembly hall from me. I watched her for a moment before she noticed, and then she met my gaze directly. As if she could see through me. And suddenly, I found it difficult to be so angry, to be so bitter at Halcyon. Because I saw Evadne’s pain as she listened to the trial unfold. I saw her pain as if it were a reflection of my own.
Gradually, Damon began to write more and more of her. Evadne drank his words, felt them stir her heart. She could hardly breathe as she read by firelight, and she held these certain entries close. She felt her stray pieces begin to come back together:
I swore to Halcyon I would watch over her sister, and yet the first night of travel, Evadne tries to get herself killed. By none other than one of Ivina’s phantoms. In the shadow of Euthymius. I want to rend my clothes with the irony of it all!
I should not care that Evadne is scrubbing our floors. I tell myself not to care, and yet I cannot sleep, thinking about her hands being cracked and broken by the lye. I asked Lyra to make a healing salve. My sister looked at me dubiously, like she knew exactly who it was for, and I am a fool, and I should guard myself. But Lyra made the salve, and I had it delivered to Evadne’s room, and despite it all, I still cannot sleep.
I want to ask Evadne to be my scribe. And yet I am terrified. She will undoubtedly turn me down.
She has agreed and I can hardly believe it. Now I need to tell her the truth of the mission, and yet how? How is the best way for me to do this? Why do I feel so vulnerable in her presence?
Evadne moved on to the second scroll. This one began with his entry of Mount Euthymius, and Evadne knew Damon had purchased this scroll in Abacus, just before he joined up with his father’s legion. Because the gilded scroll was still in Mithra, and Damon could not risk losing these memories.
In the utter darkness of the mountain’s heart, I almost perished. I should have perished, and yet there was a girl, a girl made of secret wings, who carried me, brought me down gently in her arms.
His last entry was the night Evadne had seen him writing in the tent. He wrote of Halcyon’s triumphant return to the legion. He wrote about his worries of breaking and running his magic dry, and yet despite the risk, how he did not want to be afraid.
She has strengthened me. When I hear