Day Two-Fifty-Seven: Despair in the Dark

The guards tried to advance on us again, today. From above. One of the nobles, manning the furthest ballistae up the ramps, got panicked and fired. A big chunk of the walkways caved in. They can't get at us from above, now… but we also can't get out. Not without risking our lives.

Lives. Ha. Cheap things, lives. I'm seein' that now.

I only slept for a few hours last night. Couldn't keep my eyes closed. Kept watch with Edmund on one of the ballistae instead. We chatted quietly for a while, trying to maintain our calm, but… it didn't work. He managed to work his doom-and-gloom mood into his poetics. Bet he wishes he'd turned down that head bard job now.

Or, maybe, just maybe, he wishes that he'd put a sword through the penguin's head a long time ago. Edmund warned me about Kierkegaard. I should've known he was behind all this. Who else could it be? That fucker is running the kingdom, thanks to his jester position with King Jeffrey. He has the connections; he has the will, obviously; and, somewhere, deep in his birdy brain, he has a motivation for it all. I know it.

Fuck. The moment he wanted to start hunting rats, I knew he was bad news.

What's down there? What's in that chamber? What's behind that door? What does Kierkegaard want in such an ungodly place? Is there a treasure? Some dark magic? An invincible army? A weapon he'll use to kill all of us?

Or… is there somebody… something… that wants to thank me? And if that's the case… what did I do to earn thanks?

Is this all my fault?

That grates at me. That thought. The idea that, somehow, I'm responsible for all of this. I've gone through my share of weird shit… so… I guess it's possible… that I did something wrong? That somehow, despite my good intentions, I ruined this kingdom? Is Dragomir to blame for it all?

And… if that's the case… am I also responsible… for Eve being involved? IS she involved? Or does she care so little about all this that she's just watching until the next battle comes along? Will she DESTROY whatever's behind that door… or will she let it go free?

Fuck.

Eve. Darling daughter.

You… you aren't actually… evil, are you?

This… is my last entry, diary. You help me cling to hope, and I think doin' that is just a case of me foolin' myself. It's time I let go.

Bye, diary. It was fun. I'll keep you with me 'til the end.