It feels wrong to write this, little book.
It has been months since the war ended. As I sit here and read what I have written about the suffering and pain caused in the name of loyalty to two completely irrelevant ancient flags, I can feel that sour taste in my mouth growing again. It took me a while to even begin to write these words, but it feels like a necessity at this point. I've torn all the pages out that were not of that horrid week, I do not wish for the happy memories from before to be associated with the atrocities mentioned. It should be separated, kept far away as a time I would rather forget.
I won't forget however, how could I? Even now I can still hear the clash of steel, the roaring of canon fire and the agony faced by those at the front. That damnable Eclipse still haunts my dreams to this very day. Hidden within all that pain are stories that need to be told. Creatures of every shape and mentality, drawn together at once to fight for what they truly believed in. Heroes in their own right. I respect them all, and I still have the honor to call most of them friends. Even those who began to me as bitter enemies. No one should forget them, and maybe donating you to the Royal Archives is the right call. A lesson for those in the future, should something tragic like this occur again, to learn from our mistakes and fight not for petty reasons. If we do fight, it should be a fight for Unity in this land of ours. A fight to preserve harmony and friendship in even the bitterest times.
To whoever reads this accounting of what I witnessed on the battlefield that terrible week in spring, may you as well never forget what was sacrificed. My thoughts may be scattered throughout, somethings still aren't clear in what I wrote even to me, but it doesn't change the outcome. The things we strove to achieve in the end, no matter the cost, and the struggles we all endured. All of it matters. All of it should be remembered.
I pray to the Sisters that it never is forgotten.
-Countess Sweet Bun