Journal of Two Winters

by VT Arkens

As winter sets in on Beforus, Vriska Serket, a top Imperial Agent, finds herself faced with a situation which throws her into a whirlwind of emotion, guilt, and uncertainty. But is the old saying true? It it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? And if so, does this apply to platonic love, as well?

5. Entry 5

We left while the last rays of sunlight still peeked over the horizon. It was irritating to the skin and even more so to the eyes, 8ut we endured. I will not say that our nameless friend seemed un8othered 8y it, 8ut he did not appear surprised 8y its effect. I can only assume that he has had to venture out at this time 8efore.

Terezi and I were experiencing it for the first time. To think that there are some who not only toler8, 8ut enjoy the pure sunlight! It is unfathoma8le! And yet our companion insists that the tales ring true. I was always fond of stories of rain8ow drinkers in my youth, and now it has 8een revealed that a mem8er of our company seems to have known one personally in his lifetime.

It was around this moment that I 8egan fretting. I accepted long ago that I will outlive my dear Terezi, 8ut now I find myself fearing it again. And as for our mutant, I can only imagine that he will live far fewer sweeps than even the lowest castes. We have gone from one fugitive to three. What will 8ecome of me once the only two others I can trust move 8eyond this world? I have seen what sweeps of running from the law can do. Our friend was alone when I found him, and he only ever alludes to people with whom he claims to have lost touch with long ago. I cannot fathom just how lonely an existence that must 8e, and yet I will have no choice 8ut to discover the answer in time.

I have 8een una8le to record much over the past few months. Winter has hit in full force, and we have all excreted the entirety of our energy into ensuring survival. I am confident, however, that the spring will grace us soon.

It was early this evening that Terezi returned with the news. I have seen her run often, 8ut never in a manner such as that she had tonight. She flew into the mouth of the cave we are currently residing in, sweat on her 8row, snow in her hair, and terror in her eyes. She clutched a piece of parchment, holding it out to me while she caught her 8reath instead of speaking.

Never 8efore have I seen her so afraid.

I read over the text a total of 8 times 8efore allowing my gaze to linger on the drawings. Our 8lind companion was in near desper8ion as he 8egged me to explain what was happening.

I never in my life expected to see my face on a wanted poster. For Feferi- Or perhaps I should use her title or surname, given that I highly dou8t that we are on friendly terms any longer- for the Empress to go to Makara, she must consider us to 8e a significant threat. Especially if the two of them have employed him to track us down.

Go ahead, Ampora. If you manage to apprehend me, I will consider you the winner of our little game. Just do not forget that I a8solutely despise losing.

I tended to the fire as Terezi attempted to 8ring our friend to a st8 of peace, or at the very least steady his 8reathing and cease his hyperventilating. It pains me to see him like that. He is so afraid of what will happen to him should he 8e discovered that even the slightest mention of the possi8ility triggers these attacks. It has happened a num8er of times. I only glance up from time to time as I see Terezi holding his face in tender hands, wiping away tears of a 8rilliant shade of red. If he cries in such a vivid hue, what his 8lood must look like! A part of me is curious, 8ut my more logical side insists that I do not ever wish to see him 8leed, for this would mean that he would 8e in danger, or at the very least, in pain.

For someone who appears so very open, it is no secret that Terezi masks her emotions. That 8eing said, she is also not incredi8ly skilled at it. To most, yes. 8ut I know 8etter. I see the way she looks at him. In these few short months, I have watched her expression soften whenever she is in his presence. The aloof aura fades to one of a caring nature, and she is always careful never to come across too strongly, as she is known to do. Oh, with what joy, and admiration, and love she gazes at him with. She looks to him as one would look to the 8eing that formed the moon and stars. In her eyes, he has cre8d the universe. It is unlike any flushed pining I have seen. Were he a8le to catch sight of her face for even a mere second, I am certain that he would understand at once. However, this leaves the question of whether or not he would reciproc8 her feelings. He is much more difficult to read, pro8a8ly a skill which he has worked to perfect as a defense mechanism. He does not wish anyone to 8e a8le to see into his heart, lest they use it to manipul8 his head.

No one except me, in this moment.

Terezi is on watch. She and I will altern8 guarding. In time, we plan to 8uild a small hive as a more perminant refuge, and we will apply security measures. 8ut for now, it must all 8e done manually. I have our friend 8y my side, and have finally worked up the courage to ask him if he would share with me his story. And after only the slightest of hesit8ions, he has agreed. He has provided me with a sample of his handwriting, and accepted also my proposition to transcri8e word for word his tale exactly as he would write it were he a8le to once again see the page.

What follows is the story of he who 8ears no name.