March 15, 1601
Because I have written more in this personal book then I have ever spoken to any living creature, I might as well tell you the rest of my short past.
Aurek, my father, was a soldier. I would say that he was a brave one but that was just the impression I got as a young boy looking up at his father in wonder. When I try really hard to remember my father all I remember about him is his bravery and his walk. He made men want to follow him, or at least that was how it looked from my perspective. I didn't really care much about war then, and I don't now. I don't even remember whom we were fighting against though I am sure that my Grandpa would know, but he would probably give me more information than I really care about.
On my seventh birthday a letter came from who knows where summoning Aurek to go to some lord's house. Aurek left all dressed up in a uniform the hue of black, no, I think it was a dark blue. He had a sword in his belt with a couple of clumsy knives sticking out here and there, to me he looked high and noble like one of the great kings of the past. Aurek laughed and rumbled my hair, and then he left. We waited two years till news came of him and the company he went with. One of my father's friends, Amiel, came to tell us the grave news. Aurek had died of a mysterious disease from the south. This disease killed over half of his section in the army. Around two thousand men died from the disease alone, it was very contagious. Two weeks later Amiel also died from the disease. His wife, Cassidy, and all his children along with everyone else who went to welcome home the returned company died in the following months.
Mother and Grandmother cried. My will to live was eradicated, seeing how life is pointless and everyone dies some day. I didn't care anymore when people died; people always die. Grandpa Attila stopped going to meetings, against his will, Grandma Reganne didn't want to lose him also.