Year 538, Day 14 of Bismarck
I don't know how much longer I will live, or if there will be anyone left in the end to tell the tale. I write these words so that whatever happens to us will not be forgotten.
The war ended five days ago, but our troubles are only beginning.
Five days ago, Yun Fang attacked Cocoon in the form of the monster Ragnarok. But alas, her form was incomplete, and she only managed to gash the viper's shell. If she had transformed together with Dia Vanille, then we may have triumphed over that terrible sphere. Fang always had a reputation for being hotheaded. Is that why she went alone, leaving Vanille behind?
But even if Fang eventually allowed Vanille to merge with her, our victory was thwarted by the Goddess Etro. Goddess of bounty, Goddess of kindness, of compassion, your intercession was a death sentence to us all. Why did you spare that nest of evil, with its twisted lies and murderous fal'Cie? They robbed us of our harvest and our herds, and now we have been robbed of our own free will and our lives. Our fal'Cie have become desperate, and now all of Oerba has been made into l'Cie.
Three days ago, our entire village went to Anima's temple to pray. All of the men, women, children, and yes, even the babies. We believed that with our wills and wishes combined, that Anima would hear us. But instead of giving us blessings, he gave us brands.
I saw brother Janus for the last time yesterday. He and a group of l'Cie veterans, who had been fal'Cie instruments during the war, entered the temple sacrarium in search of Fang and Vanille's crystal forms. Nobody knew how it happened, but the temple doors suddenly slammed shut. Father and Mother say that now the war is over, Anima had fallen asleep and had taken our warriors with him. Surely Janus and the others have joined Fang and Vanille in crystal slumber, for they had fought bravely during the war. But I'm not sure I believe them. Sometimes I catch them whispering about Janus when they think I'm not listening, and I hear Mother toss sleeplessly at night. And little Yael Nsu-tian, who is too young to understand, was picking flowers near the temple the day it happened. She ran back to the village in tears, frightened to hysterics and babbling about some terrifying beast screaming in the temple.
My brother has been taken from me, and our warriors too. The Chosen ones, Fang and Vanille, will sleep until the end of time. The rest of us remain to face death at the hands of the beasts who prowl the outskirts of the village, or if we survive, as Cie'th.
Etro, behold what your hands have wrought. Where is your intercession now?