A Survivor's Diary

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 1 in Rhy'Din

I don’t know where to start. Maybe I should be asking myself how I’m still alive. Or if this is just some twisted version of the afterlife. But that can’t be right, because for the first time in… I don’t even know how long, I felt grass beneath my feet. Real, soft, green grass, not the brittle patches of weeds that struggled through the cracks of Pittsburgh Prime.

It’s strange, though. The air here doesn’t smell like smoke. It’s not thick with the stench of oil or blood. It’s… clean. Crisp, almost. There’s this scent of flowers everywhere—colors I’ve never even seen before. I didn’t think places like this could exist outside of the fairytales my sisters used to tell back in the Boneyard. Yet, here I am.

I met this girl. Woman, actually. An elf. That’s something I’d never thought I’d say—an actual elf. Her name’s Serenity, and I don’t know what to make of her. She’s… kind. Soft-spoken but strong. Reminds me a bit of Mariah, actually. Maybe that’s why I didn’t put up much of a fight when she found me wandering around, confused and lost. Took me back to her little cottage without asking anything in return. Just gave me water and food and told me to rest.

I didn’t sleep. How could I? I kept waiting for her to demand something from me. That’s how it worked in the Boneyard—nothing came without a price. But she didn’t. She just sat there, reading this massive book and humming to herself. I don’t get it. What’s her angle? Why would someone like her help a nobody like me?

When she finally spoke to me, she asked my name, and I hesitated. The name Luna almost slipped out, but that’s not who I am anymore. That girl died in Pittsburgh Prime, with all her fears and uncertainties. So, I told her the truth: Eva Kane.

She said it was a strong name. Made me feel something I haven’t felt in years… proud, maybe? I don’t know. I’m not used to this.

She said I should try to sleep. I told her I’d keep watch instead, and she just laughed. Said that nobody needed to keep watch here. As if danger was some foreign concept. I couldn’t help but think she was naïve. But there was something in her eyes when she said it—something that made me want to believe her, just for a second.

I guess I did sleep, eventually, because when I woke up, it was morning, and she was gone, but a plate of bread and cheese was on the table. Probably the best damn breakfast I’ve ever had.

Maybe this place isn’t so bad. Or maybe it’s a dream, and I’ll wake up back in the Boneyard, covered in ash and soot, with the sound of trains creaking in the distance.

If it is a dream, I hope I don’t wake up just yet.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 3 in Rhy'Din

It’s been three days now, and I’m still here. Still alive. Still… adjusting.

Most of the time, it’s just me and Serenity in this little cottage. I’m not complaining. It’s quiet—quieter than anything I’ve ever known. The only sounds are the birds outside, the wind moving through the trees, and Serenity’s voice when she talks about Rhy'Din. She’s been teaching me bits and pieces about this place. The way things work, the places to avoid, the ones worth visiting. It’s overwhelming. There’s so much I don’t understand, but I’m starting to piece things together.

I think I’ve learned more from her in the past three days than I did in my entire life back home. It’s strange. There’s no sense of urgency, no looming threat hanging over my head. Just… learning, for the sake of learning. I didn’t even know that was possible.

Today, she showed me a map of Rhy’Din City, pointing out the different districts, explaining what each one was like. She told me about the Red Dragon Inn—apparently, it’s a place where people from all walks of life gather. I guess it’s the closest thing they have to a center around here. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but the idea of going there, being around that many people… I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Serenity keeps telling me I have all the time in the world, that there’s no rush. She doesn’t push, just lets me come to things in my own time. It’s unsettling, how patient she is. Almost like she knows exactly what I need before I even realize it myself.

We spent most of the afternoon out back. She showed me how to recognize some of the plants growing around the cottage—things that are safe to eat, things to avoid, and a few that have healing properties. Back home, the only plants I knew were the kind that grew out of cracks and struggled to survive. It’s weird seeing so much green, so much life. Sometimes, I catch myself staring at the trees, just… breathing it all in. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it.

We talked a bit more today. About where we come from. I told her about Pittsburgh Prime—not everything, just the basics. She didn’t press for details, didn’t give me that look people usually give when they hear about the Boneyard. She just listened, nodded, and told me that I was stronger than I realized. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I wasn’t strong, that I was just… surviving. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

When I asked her about herself, she grew quiet. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she started talking about her home—Cormyr, she called it. Said she was once a knight, a ranger, and something else… something magical. But she lost it, somehow. I didn’t press. I figured I’d get the full story when she was ready, just like she was waiting for me.

There was this moment, just before we headed back inside, where our hands brushed against each other. It was nothing—barely a touch—but it made my heart skip a beat. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt something like that. Maybe I never have.

I don’t know what’s happening here. I don’t know what this place is doing to me.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 7 in Rhy'Din

It's been a full week now since I first woke up in this strange and impossible place, and I still can't fully grasp it. Every morning, I half expect to wake up back in the Boneyard with the familiar scent of rust and smoke in the air. But instead, I find myself here, in Serenity’s cottage, surrounded by green forests, warmth, and this unshakeable sense of peace that still feels surreal.

Today, Serenity took me deeper into the forest. She wanted to show me a clearing she used to visit when she first arrived in Rhy'Din. She said it was a place that helped her feel grounded and connected to the world. At first, I didn’t get it. But when we stepped into that clearing, surrounded by towering trees that seemed to stretch into the heavens, with flowers blooming in every color imaginable, I felt it. I felt like I wasn’t just drifting through life aimlessly. I felt connected, like I was part of something much larger.

We spent hours there, hardly speaking. Serenity showed me how to braid a few of the flowers into a crown, and then she placed it gently on my head, her eyes warm with a kind of quiet pride. For a moment, I forgot about everything—the pain, the blood, the losses. I felt weightless. When I asked her why she chose to help me, she just smiled and said, “You looked like you needed a place to belong.” And somehow, those words hit harder than anything. I didn't know how to respond to someone who understood me so deeply, who saw the things I couldn’t put into words.

Later, we sat on the porch, sipping tea and watching the fireflies dance in the evening light. I asked if she ever missed her old life—the magic, the battles, the sense of purpose. She only smiled and replied, “I found something better.” I’m still not entirely sure what she meant, but tonight, for the first time since the fall of Pittsburgh Prime, I felt a real smile on my face.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 10 in Rhy'Din

It feels like I'm beginning to settle in, though I wouldn't say I feel like I belong just yet. The constant urge to look over my shoulder is fading, and I’m no longer expecting danger to jump out at every turn. There’s a strangeness in this new rhythm, but it’s becoming familiar in a way I never imagined it could.

Serenity and I have spent more time together these past few days. There's a natural ease between us, as if we've known each other longer than just ten days. She's been teaching me how to properly shoot a crossbow, not just the point-and-hope method I relied on back in Pittsburgh Prime. In those days, precision wasn’t my priority—hitting close enough to send a warning was usually enough. But here, Serenity is showing me the finer details: how to breathe, how to adjust my grip, and how to find that exact moment where everything aligns.

This afternoon, we practiced for hours behind her cottage. She stood beside me, occasionally stepping in to correct my stance or adjust my grip, her movements always calm and assured. Every miss was met with patience, every correction with kindness. At first, I kept pulling to the left, my frustration building as each bolt veered off course. But Serenity remained steady, reminding me to relax, to trust in the process, and in myself. Little by little, I started to get closer to the target. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

After we finished, we sat on the porch, the crossbow resting against the railing as the sky faded into twilight. Serenity asked about my past, about how I’d first learned to use a crossbow. I told her about the Boneyard, about making do with whatever we could salvage, about how survival was more about being quick and ruthless than skilled. She listened quietly, never interrupting, just letting me share pieces of a life I’d long since buried since arriving here. When I finally finished, she reached out and took my hand, a gentle, reassuring squeeze that seemed to carry more understanding than words ever could.

There’s a warmth to her that I’m not used to, a softness that feels both foreign and comforting. I don’t know what to make of it yet, but as I sat there, hand in hers, watching the stars flicker to life, I found myself thinking that maybe this isn’t just a temporary stop.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 13 in Rhy'Din

Almost two weeks now. It’s hard to wrap my head around how much has changed in such a short time. The days feel longer here, yet they’re filled with a sense of purpose I’ve never felt before. Serenity’s been pushing me hard with the crossbow training, but I’ve made real progress. I’m hitting the center more often than not now, something I could never quite manage back in Pittsburgh Prime. It feels good to be this focused, to have something to work toward, and maybe even to be a bit proud of.

Today, training ended earlier, and we spent the afternoon by the river behind her cottage. The water was cold, and it felt good to let it wash over my feet, easing the tension from the morning's efforts. There was a rare stillness between us, no rush, no expectations. We sat side by side, our shoulders touching, the kind of closeness that felt effortless. I caught her glancing at me a few times, but I didn’t press it. Instead, when she asked about my life in Pittsburgh Prime, I surprised myself by opening up more than I ever have before.

I spoke about Mariah first, about how she rescued me and gave me a place when no one else would. I told Serenity how Mariah had become a mother figure to me, someone who was fearless and strong, always watching out for the vulnerable. It felt strange, but also freeing, to speak about Mariah out loud after so long. Serenity listened intently, never interrupting, and her fingers brushed against mine, intertwining gently. It was such a simple gesture, but it carried a warmth that made my chest tighten.

Next, I talked about Brick, how he was like an older brother or father to me, tough on the outside but always looking out for us. I even told her about the time he broke my thumb during an arm-wrestling match, and how, despite my initial anger, I ended up forgiving him. Talking about those moments, I felt the weight of all I’d lost pressing down on me, yet there was comfort in sharing those memories, even just a little. Serenity sat closer as I continued, her presence offering a kind of solace I didn’t realize I needed.

As we sat there in the fading light, Serenity rested her head on my shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel alone in my grief. She didn't need to say much; her touch, the way she held my hand, spoke more than any words could. Before we headed back, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. It was fleeting, almost like it never happened, but my heart hasn’t stopped racing since. I don’t know where this path is leading, but for once, I’m willing to follow it.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 16 in Rhy'Din

Today was… different. It’s incredible how quickly things can change, how a connection can deepen so fast that it feels like it’s always been there. Every time Serenity is near me now, my heart races in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. It’s as if my entire being is tuned to her presence, drawn in by an invisible force I can't quite understand.

Training went better than I could’ve hoped. I managed to split one bolt with another, something that felt more like luck than skill, but Serenity’s reaction made it feel like the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever done. The way she looked at me, with genuine pride shining in her eyes, made it all feel real—like I was more than just a survivor from the Boneyard. For a moment, I wasn’t just scraping by. I was achieving something, and it felt incredible.

Afterward, we took our usual break by the river. This time, something shifted between us. I found myself reaching out, making excuses to brush against her—whether it was tucking a leaf from her hair or letting my fingers linger when she handed me a cup of tea. There was a warmth in her touch that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel, and it was impossible to ignore. Sitting there, side by side, I could feel this unspoken energy between us, an electricity that seemed to spark with every glance, every accidental touch.

At one point, she looked at me in a way that made me feel completely seen, like she wasn’t just looking at my face but into the very heart of me. She reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, and in that brief moment, I thought she might kiss me. My heart was pounding, every sense heightened. But she didn’t. Instead, she just smiled, that soft, understanding smile that makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay. She told me I was improving, that I was getting better, and I could barely manage to respond, my voice caught somewhere between hope and fear.

We went back to training eventually, but something stayed with me. That feeling of being tethered to her, like there’s an invisible thread binding us together, pulling us closer even when we’re not touching. I’ve never felt anything like it and that realization alone is enough to leave me shaken.

I don’t know where this is headed, or if I’m even ready to find out. But every time I’m with Serenity, I feel like I’m waking up, like I’m finally letting myself breathe again. It’s terrifying to want something this much, to let myself hope for something more. But maybe that fear means I’m on the edge of something real. And maybe it’s okay to take that leap.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 19 in Rhy'Din

Today marked the beginning of my longsword training, and I’ll admit, it was a rough start. I thought that after all the progress I’d made with the crossbow, I'd be more prepared, but wielding a blade is a completely different challenge. It’s heavier than I imagined, awkward in my hands, and each swing feels unsteady, like I’m always on the verge of losing my balance. Every movement feels forced, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to make it feel natural.

Meanwhile, Serenity moves with a grace that’s almost unreal, her sword flowing effortlessly as if it’s just an extension of herself. Watching her, it’s clear she’s been doing this for years, and it’s hard not to feel frustrated when I compare myself to her. Yet, somehow, she’s always patient, always encouraging. When I stumble or lose my balance, she’s there, gently correcting my stance, her words calm and reassuring. She keeps reminding me not to fight the sword but to let it guide me, something that feels almost impossible when every muscle in my body is tensed up.

We trained for hours, and by the end, my arms were aching, my legs ready to give out. But despite the exhaustion, there was one moment that made it all worth it. I managed to land a solid hit, knocking her blade aside. It was more luck than skill, but Serenity stepped back and gave me that smile—the one that makes everything else disappear for a moment. For the first time, I felt a sense of accomplishment, a flicker of hope that I could be good at this someday.

After training, we sat in the grass, catching our breath. The sun was starting to set, casting everything in a soft, golden light, and it felt like one of those rare, perfect moments. I talked about my past again, about the fights back in the Boneyard and how every day felt like a battle just to survive. Serenity listened intently, and as always, I felt the weight of her attention, her understanding. In return, she shared more about her life before Rhy’Din—about Cormyr, the battles she’d fought, and the magic that used to course through her veins. There was a mixture of pride and sorrow in her voice, and I could sense the echoes of who she used to be.

It’s strange, the way things are shifting between us. Every day, it feels like we’re drawing closer, and every touch feels more natural, more necessary. I find myself reaching out to her without hesitation, and every time she responds in kind, it’s like a quiet confirmation that I’m not alone in this. Whatever this is, it’s growing, becoming harder to deny. And for once, I don’t want to deny it.

Maybe it’s too soon to call it love, but it’s something. Something real, something warm. I’m starting to believe that I deserve to feel this way. Maybe this is what happiness feels like—simple, unforced, and finally within reach.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 23 in Rhy'Din

I don’t even know how to start this entry. I’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, replaying everything that happened today, and somehow, it still feels unreal.

We were training again, as usual. Serenity wore her armor today, the polished silver set that always makes her look like some kind of hero out of a storybook. She moved with that effortless grace of hers, the kind that makes everything she does look easy. Meanwhile, I was struggling to keep up, my own movements clumsy and unrefined by comparison. We sparred for what felt like forever, with me pushing myself harder, trying to match her rhythm, to find that flow she always talks about.

She was patient as ever, even when I fumbled, waiting for me to find my footing before we started again. But then I lost my balance on a slick patch of grass. One moment I was standing, the next I was colliding into her, and we both went down. Panic surged through me, thinking I’d hurt her, that I’d ruined everything with my carelessness.

But instead of anger or irritation, she did something that caught me completely off guard. She lifted the face cover of her helmet, leaned in, and kissed me.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Everything faded—the training, the grass beneath us, even the sounds of the forest disappeared. All I could focus on was the warmth of her lips, the softness of that unexpected moment. It was over in an instant, but it felt like a lifetime. When she pulled back, there was this look in her eyes, something raw and real, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to react.

She gave me that genuine smile of hers, the one that’s rare and precious, and simply reminded me about watching my footing. I could barely respond, my mind still reeling from what had just happened. Everything felt surreal, like I was walking through a dream I didn’t want to wake up from. And then, as if nothing had changed, she stood up, offered me her hand, and pulled me back into the training session.

We continued, but I was completely distracted. My thoughts kept circling back to that kiss, to the feel of her lips on mine, to the way my heart wouldn’t stop racing. When we finally finished, we went to sit by the river, our usual spot. But this time, the silence wasn’t the peaceful kind we usually shared. It felt heavy, charged with all the words we weren’t saying, with everything I was too afraid to ask.

I wanted to ask her why she did it, what it meant, but I couldn’t find the courage. I was terrified of the answer, terrified that whatever had just happened would disappear if I tried to define it. So, we sat there in that charged silence until the sun started to set, and then we made our way back to the cottage without saying a word about what had happened.

Now I’m here, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of it all. I don’t know what this means, where we go from here, or if she even feels the same way I do. But something has changed, and I can’t pretend otherwise. I feel like I’ve found something worth holding onto, and it terrifies me to think of losing it.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll find the courage to ask. But tonight, I’ll hold onto that one perfect moment, that fleeting second when everything else disappeared, and it was just me and Serenity.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 27 in Rhy'Din

I’m still trying to process everything that happened today. It feels like all the emotions I’ve been holding back finally erupted, and now I’m left trying to piece together what it all means, unsure if I’ve just made things clearer or infinitely more complicated.

For days, I’ve felt Serenity drifting away from me, ever since that kiss. I thought it would bring us closer, but instead, it felt like she was putting up a wall, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find a way through. This morning, we were in the garden, going through our usual routine of pulling weeds and tending to the herbs. The silence between us was unbearable, every second making that distance feel wider, until something in me just snapped.

I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt, so I confronted her. I demanded to know why she was pulling away, why she kissed me if she didn’t intend to let me in. For a moment, I thought she might ignore me, but then she finally looked up, and I could see something break in her eyes. That’s when she told me about her wives—Kira and Mira, two women who would continue on long after Serenity’s gone. I stood there, stunned, absorbing the reality of her situation, but instead of feeling betrayed, I felt an unexpected sense of relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t care; it was that she cared so much that she was terrified of what she might lose.

Hearing her speak about the pain of watching loved ones age and die, about the fear of losing me, made me see how deeply her past haunted her. But all I could think was that life is made up of moments, and if I could have even a fraction of those with her, it would be worth whatever pain might come. I stepped closer, reached out, and made her look at me, telling her that things don’t need to be permanent to be meaningful. I tried to make her understand that even if our time was limited, it could still be beautiful.

Serenity seemed taken aback, struggling to grasp how I could be willing to accept sharing her with Kira and Mira. But I’ve lived my entire life sharing everything—space, food, even hope. If being with Serenity meant sharing her love with others, then that was a compromise I was more than willing to make. Her stunned expression shifted into something softer, and then, without warning, she wrapped me in the most genuine embrace, holding me like I was the only thing keeping her grounded.

For the first time since coming to Rhy’Din, I felt like I’d found something real, something worth fighting for. I don’t know what the future holds or how complicated things might get, but in that moment, none of it mattered. I had Serenity in my arms, and I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be.

I’ve found something worth holding onto, and no matter what comes next, I’m not letting go.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 31 in Rhy'Din

I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t even know if there are words for it. It’s like every part of me, every scar, every broken piece, has finally found a place where it fits. And that place is with Serenity.

The past few days… I don’t think I’ve ever felt so close to another person. We’ve hardly left the cottage. It’s like the world outside doesn’t exist, like it’s just the two of us in this little bubble where nothing else matters. We’ve talked about everything, every little thing that we kept hidden, all the pain and all the joy. I told her about the time I got caught stealing food back in the Boneyard and how Mariah chewed me out for being reckless but then hugged me so tight I thought I’d never breathe again. I told her about Brick teaching me how to throw a punch, about the nights I’d spend watching the stars through the cracks in the train graveyard, wondering if there was anything more than just surviving.

And she told me about her wives—Kira and Mira—how they’d found her when she was broken and helped her piece herself back together. How they had shown her that love didn’t have to be something you fought for, that it could be something you just… gave. Freely. Without expecting anything in return.

I’ve never known that kind of love. Not until now.

We didn’t just talk, though. We shared everything—every unspoken word, every unguarded moment. She showed me the scar on her shoulder where she took an arrow for someone she loved, and I showed her the jagged line across my ribs, where a blade had come too close to my heart. She traced each scar with her fingertips, so gently it made my breath catch, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel ashamed of them.

There was one night, when the fire was burning low, and she looked at me, really looked at me, with this intensity that made my heart stop. And she whispered, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” I didn’t know what to say. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never that. But when she said it… I believed her.

Last night, we stayed up until dawn, just lying there, holding each other, our fingers intertwined. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, steady and strong, and I thought… I could stay here forever. I could spend every day of my life with her and never feel like I was missing out on anything. It’s like we’ve known each other a thousand lifetimes, like every moment before this was just leading up to this one. And I think she feels it too.

But tomorrow… tomorrow, I’m going to the city. Alone. It’ll be the first time I’ve left the cottage without her, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Serenity gave me some coins, told me where to find the Red Dragon Inn, and warned me to be careful. Said that not everyone in Rhy'Din is as kind as she is, that there are dangers here just like there were back home.

She hugged me before we went to bed, held me so tight I thought I’d break, and whispered, “Promise me you’ll come back.”

I laughed, tried to make light of it, but I could hear the fear in her voice, the worry. And I realized that I’m not the only one who’s scared of losing something. I kissed her—soft and slow—and promised I’d come back. Because how could I not?

How could I not come back to her?

It’s strange. A month ago, I didn’t even know Serenity existed. Now, I can’t imagine my life without her. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or the day after, or the years that follow. But I know one thing: wherever I go, whatever happens, I want her by my side.

Because this isn’t just a moment. This isn’t just a fleeting feeling. This is real, and it’s ours, and I’m not letting go.

I’ll write again after the city. Hopefully, I’ll have something worth telling.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 32 in Rhy'Din

Today was… a lot. My first time in the city on my own, and I didn’t expect it to hit me the way it did. Serenity warned me about it, how chaotic and unpredictable Rhy’Din could be, but I thought I’d be fine. After everything I’ve been through, what’s a little city noise, right?

I stepped into the Red Dragon Inn today, and it was like stepping into another world. The warmth, the laughter, the smell of something sweet mingling with the scent of wood smoke—it was nothing like Pittsburgh Prime. Nothing like the Boneyard. I’ve spent so much time surrounded by cold steel and smoke, it’s like I forgot what warmth felt like.

I took a seat at the bar, rolling one of the coins Serenity had given me between my fingers, trying to blend in. It felt strange, sitting there without any threats looming over me. I ordered a glass of water—just water—and the bartender handed it to me without asking for payment. I tried to give him the coin, but he waved it away with a smile, saying it was free.

I didn’t know what to make of that. I mean, nothing’s free. Not where I come from. It shook me more than I care to admit. Water had always been a commodity back home, something you fought tooth and nail for. And here, it was just… given. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I was still trying to wrap my head around that when the door to the inn burst open, and this dark elf strode in, weighed down with more weapons than any one person should ever need. She looked like she was ready to take on an army—or like she’d already fought one and won. She made her way to the bar, and I couldn’t help but ask if she’d had a rough day. It was a stupid thing to say, but I wanted to see if she’d bite.

She did, in her own way. Told me she hadn’t planned her shopping trip properly. And for a moment, I saw a bit of myself in her—exhausted, irritated, just trying to get through the day. We talked, shared a laugh even, and it was… nice. Not forced, not guarded. Just two people having a conversation. I can’t remember the last time I had that.

She told me that the water here could get you pregnant, and I couldn’t help but laugh—really laugh. I haven’t done that in so long, not genuinely. I joked about how a few stab wounds made sure that wasn’t a concern for me, and she actually smiled. It’s a strange thing, finding someone who understands your humor when it’s rooted in pain. But I felt it, that connection, however brief it was.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself in the courtyard, just thinking. About the Boneyard, about Mariah, Brick, and my sisters. I wondered if they’d laugh at how lost I felt here, in a place where water is free, and people smile at you without a hidden agenda. It made me ache, missing them more than ever.

And then I thought about Serenity. About how she’s waiting for me back at the cottage, probably worried out of her mind because I’ve stayed out this late. She gave me those coins, knowing I’d be fine, but I still felt like I was walking a tightrope without a safety net. Yet, every step I take in this strange world, I feel a little surer, a little more… myself.

As I walked back tonight, the moon guided me. It was cold, blue, and bright, just like the night Mariah found me. I felt her there, in that moment, leading me home again. And it didn’t feel so far away.

Tomorrow, I’ll tell Serenity everything about today. About the elf, about the water. I’ll tell her how the city didn’t swallow me whole, how I found my way back. Because now, I have someone to share my day with.

Maybe this place isn’t home yet. But it’s getting there.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 33 in Rhy'Din

Today was a lot slower than most. I spent most of the day out in the garden. Serenity says it’s good for me—to put my hands in the dirt, to feel something grow. And I think she might be right. There’s something about it, something that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It’s different from the world I grew up in, from Pittsburgh Prime, where the only thing that ever grew was the rust and decay of the rail yard. Here, there’s color. There’s life.

I worked with the herbs today, pulling weeds and patting the soil around the roots. It felt… simple. There were no fights, no guns, no blood. Just the sound of the wind in the trees and the warmth of the sun on my back. I think I needed that more than I realized.

But it wasn’t just about the garden today. I wrote that letter I’ve been putting off for so long. The one to Mariah, to Brick, to my sisters. The words felt like they were being pulled out of me, one by one, and I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to finish. I kept thinking about all the things I never got to say, all the moments I lost because I was too afraid to let them see how much they meant to me.

When it was done, I stared at it for a long time. Just sat there at the little wooden table, the candle flickering beside me, and let the silence fill the room. Serenity had told me about this ritual, this rite of mourning, where you burn the letter and let the smoke carry your grief away. It sounded simple enough, but when I tried to hold the letter over the flame… nothing happened.

It frustrated me to no end. I couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t burn, why I couldn’t let go. I felt this anger bubbling up, this familiar bitterness that I thought I’d left behind in Pittsburgh Prime. But Serenity, with that calm, patient voice of hers, told me I was still holding on—still gripping the pain and guilt too tightly to let it go.

It wasn’t easy, but I listened to her. I took a breath, and I tried to let go. Not with my hands, but with my heart. And when I finally did, the flame caught the edge of the paper, and I watched as the letter burned. The smoke twisted up into the air, carrying the words I’d never had the courage to say. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something lift inside me.

Afterward, Serenity sat with me, didn’t say much, just let her hand rest on my shoulder, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone.

When I went to bed that night, I fell into a deep sleep, deeper than I’d had in years. But then… I dreamed. I was back in Pittsburgh Prime. It was so real I could feel the smog in my lungs, the oil clinging to my skin. The sky was that dull, ashen gray, and I stood at the edge of the Boneyard, staring out at the sea of twisted metal and rusted train cars.

And there, fluttering in the air, I saw it—a letter, slowly descending from the sky. I reached out, my heart pounding in my chest, and grabbed it. When I unfolded it, I saw my handwriting, but it was a letter I hadn’t written yet. Or maybe I had. I don’t know. Dreams are strange that way.

I read the words, and they were all the things I had just written earlier—all the things I never said to Mariah, to Brick, to my sisters. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes, and when I looked up, there they were. Mariah, her arms crossed, that soft smile on her face. Brick, standing tall with that same look of quiet strength. And my sisters, all gathered around, looking at me with eyes that shimmered in the dull light.

I wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was hold up the letter, my hands trembling, as if that piece of paper could somehow make up for everything I’d left unsaid.

Mariah stepped forward first, her hand reaching out to touch my cheek, and I swear I could feel the warmth of her palm, even in the dream. “You did good, kid,” she said, her voice soft but strong, just like I remembered. “You did more than enough.”

Brick nodded, that little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Keep trying, Eva. That’s all any of us ever did.”

I woke up with tears in my eyes, the feeling of Mariah’s hand still lingering against my skin, even though I knew it wasn’t real. But somehow, it felt like they’d heard me, like my words had reached them, wherever they were.

I’ll tell Serenity about the dream tomorrow. She’ll probably smile that little smile of hers and tell me it means I’m healing, that I’m letting go. And maybe she’s right. Maybe, for the first time in my life, I’m starting to believe that I don’t have to carry this weight alone.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the city. I’ll keep moving forward. And I’ll keep fighting. Because that’s what Mariah would have wanted. That’s what Brick would have said.

And I’m not done yet.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary - Day 35 in Rhy'Din

I don’t know why I still bother writing these. Maybe it’s a way to make sense of things, or maybe it’s just a bad habit I’ve never quite broken. Tonight’s walk was one of those strange requests from Serenity—no explanation, just that quiet insistence that always makes it impossible to say no. She has that way about her, doesn’t she? Gets under your skin, makes you do things without really knowing why. I’m not complaining. Not really. It’s just... strange, is all.

Rhy’Din was quieter than last time. Odd, considering it’s never a place that Serenity said never really sleeps, but maybe that’s why she sent me out tonight. Maybe she knew something I didn’t, as usual. I passed the Red Dragon Inn and, for a moment, thought about stopping in. It was packed, as it always is, spilling light and noise out into the street like it’s some sort of beacon in the darkness. I kept walking, though. Something kept pulling me forward. I can’t explain it. It felt like the city was guiding me somewhere, like it had a story it wanted to tell, and I was just the one meant to hear it.

Then, of course, there were the two idiots by the dumpster. It’s almost laughable now, thinking about how they tried to be sneaky, crouching there like they were wolves stalking prey. I saw them before they ever saw me, caught the glint of that knife as clear as day even in the dim light. And for a moment, I almost walked away. Almost. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the way they talked—like they were desperate, like they needed that little pouch to be full of jewels or else everything would crumble around them. It wasn’t about the money. It was about what that money represented. Hope, maybe. A way out. Who knows?

I stepped in, of course. Couldn’t just let them go through with it, not when I was standing right there. The first one was all talk, full of bravado, like they thought waving that knife around would be enough to scare me off. It wasn’t. I’ve seen worse, faced worse, and I’ll be damned if I let some half-rate thug make me flinch. I told them to walk away. Even now, I’m not sure why I bothered. They weren’t worth the effort, but something in me just... couldn’t let it go. And maybe that’s something I need to think about later. Why I always seem to step into situations that have nothing to do with me.

In the end, they left. Took a bit of convincing, but they walked away. The jeweler, the one they’d been targeting, didn’t even realize how close they’d come to being another story in Rhy’Din’s endless list of late-night robberies. I wonder if they’ll remember me tomorrow or if I’ll just be another face they pass on the street. Probably the latter. That’s usually how these things go.

I stayed there for a moment longer, just to make sure they were really gone, before turning back the way I came. I should’ve felt something—pride, satisfaction, anything—but all I felt was tired. Tired of playing the hero, tired of stepping in when no one else will, tired of being the one who always feels the need to fix things.

Maybe that’s why Serenity sent me out tonight. Maybe she knew I needed the reminder, that even in this city full of chaos and shadows, sometimes the smallest actions matter.

I’ll probably never know. She won’t tell me, and I won’t ask. But for tonight, I walked those streets, I faced those shadows, and I made a difference. Even if it was just for one person.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary — Day 38 in Rhy'Din

I spent most of the day out by the lake again. There’s something about that place, something that gets under my skin. It’s not just the quiet, though God knows I could use more of that. No, it’s the way it feels out there. Like there’s something waiting just beneath the surface, biding its time, like everything I’ve ever run from and everything I’ve ever fought against. A monster that’s only dangerous when it wakes up, but still powerful enough to make the whole damn lake tremble.

I think about that a lot—the things that lie beneath, the parts of us that we keep buried because we’re too afraid of what might happen if they ever break free. I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back. Maybe I want to see what happens when it finally opens its eyes.

Serenity’s stories have been sticking in my head lately. She tells them like they’re bedtime tales, like they’re supposed to have a lesson or a happy ending, but all I hear are echoes of the things that keep me awake at night. Andromeda, Nathanael, Gwydion, Serenifel… How do you even begin to understand people like that? People who’ve seen and done things that make my past look like a walk in the park? It’s not like I’ve had it easy—my scars could tell you a different story—but they’re on a whole other level.

And yet… they kept going. They didn’t let the worst parts of themselves define them. They clawed their way out of the darkness, out of the wreckage, and found something worth living for. Or at least, they tried to.

I guess that’s what gets to me the most. This idea that even the people who’ve done the most damage, who’ve made the worst kinds of mistakes, can still find a way to be more than that. That there’s still something worth fighting for, even when you’re drowning in all the shit you’ve done.

I think about Serenifel sometimes. About how close I came to being like her, about how easy it would’ve been to let the pain and the rage take over, to use all that hurt to lash out at the world instead of trying to make it better. I was so damn close to losing myself, and if it weren’t for Serenity… Hell, if it weren’t for her, I’d probably be out there burning everything to the ground just to see if the fire would keep me warm.

I look at the kaiju in the lake and wonder if it’s just another version of me, another thing trying to keep itself asleep because waking up means having to face the world. I wonder if it feels the same ache, the same longing to be more than what it was made to be. I wonder if it dreams about redemption, or if it’s just biding its time until it can tear something apart.

Maybe that’s what I’m doing, too. Biding my time. Waiting to see if I’ve got it in me to be something more than the scars on my skin and the blood on my hands.

I don’t have all the answers. Probably never will. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t need to know how it ends. Maybe it’s enough to just keep trying, to keep reaching for something better, even when it feels like the whole world is pulling me under.

There’s a part of me that’s still terrified. That still thinks I’m going to wake up one day and find out this was all some cruel joke. That I don’t deserve the peace I’ve found, or the love Serenity gives me so freely. But if those broken souls can find a way to keep going, to keep fighting, then maybe I can, too.

I guess I’m not ready to sink just yet.

— Eva

[Eva Kane]

Eva's Diary — Day 40 in Rhy'Din

I saw death again tonight. Nothing new, nothing unexpected, but it still hit me. A reminder that no matter how far I’ve come from the Boneyard, the violence never really leaves me behind. I went into Ravenswood looking for a flower—something beautiful, something that Serenity needed. A simple task, right? But nothing’s ever simple. Not for me.

The chickens—those twisted, blind things—I’d never seen anything like them before. They moved like they were stitched together wrong, like they were barely holding themselves together. But they had a hunger, and I knew that hunger. I felt it in the way they lunged, the way they nudged their dead as if trying to find some sense of direction. Like they’d forgotten what to do without someone to tell them who to be.

Maybe that’s why I won. Because I’ve been there, that place where you don’t know who you are anymore, where you’re just trying to survive because that’s all you’ve ever known. And when I took that first one down with the crossbow, and the others turned on me, it wasn’t about strength or speed. It was about understanding. They were lost, and I’ve been lost my whole life. But the difference is, I’ve learned how to fight my way out of it. Even when everything in me is screaming to lay down and quit, I get back up.

It wasn’t pretty. God, it was anything but. I can still feel where that one bit into my arm, the sting of acid seeping into the wound. And I know it’s going to scar. Just another mark on a body full of reminders of what I’ve survived. But I won. I didn’t freeze. I didn’t let fear take over. I fought. I adapted. I used what I had, and I took them down.

I ended that last one quickly. Could’ve let it suffer, let it flail and feel what it’s like to be helpless. But that’s not who I am. At least, I hope it’s not. They weren’t evil. Just desperate. And maybe that’s why I felt something, standing there with my blade pressed against its throat, something that felt like… understanding.

I found the Moonflower. Serenity’s going to be so damn pleased, and that’s enough for me. Makes the blood and bruises worth it, knowing I can bring her something good, something pure. But tonight… tonight, I’m reminded that no matter how much I want to leave the violence behind, it’s always going to be there, just a step behind me, waiting.

But I’m still here.

Broken, maybe.

But not beaten.

Never beaten.

— Eva