A/n: Ah, yay muse babble. This is a fun little look at what the world was like for a few after Baron Praxis overthrew Damas. Tis from the prospective of one of my character's parents. This is before the character is born tho. HOPEFULLY, Herz will get his shot at fanfiction in the future. HOPEFULLY.

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I am putting these words upon paper with the knowledge that I will soon have to destroy them. Should this document be found, should we be found, all will be lost. Still, my need to keep records lives and, however useless the action, I must write.

My wife sleeps. She sleeps and she breathes and she is alive and for that I am grateful. Our child sleeps as well. He is frightened and I in no way can blame him for his fear. Dear Mar, but he is alive. I must steady my hand; I myself am scared witless. I shall praise our Founder for our safety. Our safety is sustained, but so much has still been lost. However overjoyed I am to glance over my shoulder and see both of their chests move in the lamp light and see my own breath hanging in the frigid air, I feel the loss so very heavy.

My Lord Damas has been overthrown.

It has taken me ten minutes to write that sentence. It is a thought I so wish to reject. With every fiber of my being I simply want believe it is the horrible untruth I always perceived the thought could be. My Lord Damas, King Damas, has been evicted from this city and it is now unlawful for me to print his name. I am thrice damned by writing the five letters that make up our former ruler's name. Somehow, though, I seem to think should the madman current holding the reigns of this city find me, my family, my wife or son, seeing My Lord's name scrawled in my script will be the least of my worries.

My Lord. I do not know where he could be and, like so many, that thought scares me. He has been thrown to the Waste, or so we have been told. It could very well be that is simply a ploy and he has been brutally done away with--but I cannot bear to think such things. It makes me ill. I wish to believe he will survive--such a strong man must--but my hope has better use devoted to my family's safety. I cannot busy myself with thoughts of our rightful King when I know such thoughts could damn me. Could damn my wife, my child. I could not bring myself to do that to them when they have already suffered so much, so far--so early.

A week has passed--so much can happen in a week, I tell you time stands still when one moves so fast. I had been warned and every day I shall praise the name of my deliverer who sacrificed himself to caution his peers. Dear Meryus Port, I will never forget your name for as long as I live. You are one of many, many close friends I have lost. In my household, your name will forever be blessed. Meryus warned us, for while he was a scientist devoted to the same research as myself, he was also a Noble and very renowned for his closeness to our King. He name is now on the Krimzon List--such an ugly name--and, like My Lord, Meryus Port is now a damned name. Should it be written or spoken by a person, they shall be thrown into jail for treason. The list was read aloud to the citizens of Haven this morning. I am on it.

But, because I was warned, I was prepared. I have taken my wife's maiden name as my own. For many weeks I have known of a Safe House and it is where I currently sit. I have stocked it and set aside enough uncredited funds to support us for quite some time, for we will need time to change ourselves--to blend in to those around us and find underling jobs to sustain us.

I have shaved my beard, an action Doe is quite unhappy with I assure, and will do my best to keep myself well groomed in the years to come. I know my features are very different without the 'fluff on my chin'.

And I am lucky, for my wife and child are not well known. They would be far harder to disguise. Doe is foreign and her skin is beautiful and pale and her hair and eyes are dark. To tan that skin and dye that black hair would take far too much time and too extreme of measures than we can currently afford. Our son, Koe, is also fairer in skin and darker in hair and eyes, but he is young and has yet to leave his mother's arms. I am afraid, however, that my willingness to present pictures of our child to any coworker willing to devote a minute of their time will somehow reveal us. I fear my love and affection for my son has sealed his fate. Let this be a father's paranoia.

As for my former job, I do not know nor wish to know what has happened to all the research I have spent my life collecting for the good of this city. Like the lives of those who set out to put it upon paper, I'm afraid it has been destroyed in the takeover. All of it, years and years of toil, could very well have become smoke within the week that has passed. I know of friends who have surely joined it, for a precious few were as lucky as I. A precious few believed our dear Meryus. I do not know what has become of the ones who have but those fools who did not, let the Precursors bless their souls wherever they may be. All serving under My Lord have been convicted of treason and all have been put to death.

None of us survived this horrible experience, not even I. I have come to terms that I shall never recover, that I shall be shaken for life. But we are still alive and I shall be damned if my fear and my rage will be what kills us. And I shall be thrice damned if I allow 'his highness' Baron Praxis to kill us. We shall live, be it under his heel, in one way or another.

I must confess, as I near the end of this letter written only for the fire, that I had wished to have another child with Doe. I had hoped, now that Koe is older and less of a handful, we could perhaps add another son to the family, or perhaps a daughter. But now I find it hard enough to imagine our only son growing up in the misery that has befallen our city and our lives, that my heart would break if I had to force it upon a second child. To bring another into our approaching Hell, one who has never known the love of our former ruler and the care that was taken with his subjects or the advantages I have worked so hard to give my family that have now been scattered to the four winds, I would rather damn myself to the Baron's jail. We, three alone, will find a way.

I appear to be running out of ink and coherent thoughts. I am also being glared at from the bed and beckoned to sleep before I am forced to. Here, then, is where I shall end.

…Rall Hage