8:
We reached a dock. The strange prisoner is aglow with lines of Will, and it is he who guides the ship to its destination. He rested for nearly a day, ordering me about my work, guiding the ship. I am quick to obey.
For the first time in years, I noticed those same strange lines on my hands.
I cannot remember what they are for.
I was greeted by an old, blind woman at the dock, and a small, yellow dog. They both seemed … pleased, to see me. The dog leaped, placed its paws upon my chest, and licked my face. I struck it away and it whined, pitifully. I think perhaps I broke one or two of its ribs. A small price to pay, for obedience. It now follows me, meekly, limping along. The villagers look at it with pity, and me with fear. Fear is good. Fear is one of the first steps to obedience.
The blind woman now speaks in my head. She calls herself Theresa, and suggests I reread this journal, to remember who I 'truly' am.
I do not remember the blind fool who called herself "Sparrow."