I find myself facing off against a decision 8etween what is right and what is 8est.

I 8egan the night 8y assessing my hiveguest's recovery, which has 8een smooth and rapid. I expect him to 8e in well enough condition to have 8een a8le to go on his way in only a few days, though I would not have o8jected were he to desire residing with me for longer. At the very least, I was to send him off with provisions.

A messenger l8r came to inform me that I was to report to Feferi for a new assignment. After having 8een nearly confined to my hive for so long, I was on the verge of ecstasy. There was no dou8t that Ampora was rising closer to where I currently stand, and I was more than anxious to return to the game.

I did not 8ow 8efore her. I never have except in jest. She has never expected me to do so, nor would I were she to ask it of me. I simply greeted her and requested the inform8ion on the next target.

There is one thing which remains the same every time. The envelope which holds the inform8ion on the criminal I am to apprehend is always marked with their name and sign. Tonight, however, it was different. Tonight, it was 8lank.

Confusion overtook me as I looked inside, and I was certain that the entirety of the universe ceased moving. 8eing sure not to show any signs of my astonishment and, I will admit, fear, I inquired a8out the envelope's lack of identifi8tion.

I could not have prepared for her reply.

I have heard tales of individuals with 8lood that is off the spectrum, though I had always passed them off as 8eing completely fictitious. However, Feferi informed me that the one I am meant to seek has a rare- Quite possi8ly unique- mut8tion which leaves him as one of the legends I have always so easily ignored. 8ecause of his hue, he has no name nor sign. He has apparently 8een on the run since he was only six sweeps of age, having a8andoned the troll who had culled him. My duty is to track him down and 8ring him for his punishment.

I know all too well what the sentence for such a crime is. Personally, it is the only one that I feel is too harsh, though Feferi insists that it is to assure that none go out into the world and risk their lives. 8ut now more than ever I wish to insist that one's life is far too high a cost for something as simple as running off as a youngling.

I write now in the forest, not far from where I discovered the very troll whose image rests in my pocket now. I understand now his unwillingness to accept my help, as well as the general terror he holds. I now find it admira8le that he holds himself as well as he does.

To think that I would 8e not only har8oring a fugitive, 8ut nursing him 8ack to health! To think that I have 8een growing fond of him, perhaps even in a manner which is verging on pale! The entire notion is inconceiva8le!

And yet, I sit in the same place I first laid eyes on him.

It would 8e simple to 8ring him in and claim another victory over Ampora. He has 8egun to trust me, and 8eing 8lind, he would 8e una8le to see where I would 8e leading him. So why, pray tell, do I hesit8? Were the punishment not execution, would I 8e more willing? Would I rather know that he would 8e su8ject to indetermin8 lengths of torture and agony? Certainly not. 8ut I have 8rought others to their deaths 8efore in the same manner. Why has he changed me so? And should I grant him his life, am I prepared to risk him changing me even further?

Never 8efore have I dou8ted that what I have 8een doing is for the 8etterment of 8eforus. I have always followed orders from my Empress, from my friend, without question. How many innocents have 8een sent to the gallows, have endured horrors 8eyond imagin8tion, simply 8ecause I never stopped to contempl8 what I was doing?

I am at a loss.

There is an ancient hymn which I have caught my mutant hiveguest muttering under his 8reath. The language has all 8ut 8een lost to time, 8ut I have worked to transl8 a few lines. "Or8io irka it klo van gau vl'kl vo laetk gaislk; klato tas ag ar8o laetk rars t'rko rogk klo vaur8 ag klo kar, dik klo kat tlaer'k oq'u vou'tl"

"Endue unto us the peace for which we hast fought; those warriors of olde hast long since left the world of the living, 8ut their ideals shan't ev'r perish" I thought it to 8e nothing more than religious affection 8ut I now understand why he is so taken 8y the words.

To 8e a mutant! To 8e an outcast from society! Not once have I considered just what a lonely world that must 8e! I see now why he does not reveal his 8lood, 8ut I shan't ever fully understand what he has endured. I can only assume that he has never had a lusus of his own. Can you imagine it? I cannot help 8ut wonder how he was raised. The only possi8le theory is that he was culled as a gru8, and that he was tended to 8y an adult troll. The very concept is 8oth fascin8ing and oddly mournful.

It is no wonder that he has 8uilt such a rugged exterior, pushing away any and all who attempt to 8ecome near to him. And yet, I sense an underlying kindness which knows no 8ounds, hindered only 8y injustices which his life has granted him.

There are only two options I may choose from at this point in time. One is that I continue on as I always have, pushing aside any guilt until I quite nearly forget that it is there and do as I am employed to do. The other is far more dangerous.

I will weigh the potential outcomes of 8oth scenarios and continue my log when I have made my decision.