February 20th, 1800
...
Today I feel- I feel about the same as I did yesterday.
I-I'm trying to feel a little better. I don't think I have a headache, it's my back, it hurts. It hurts a lot.
I had a bad night of sleep, it happens, and I'll be better soon. I feel a lot better, in fact. Way better than when I was buried in the sand of Vube, a sinking sand taking away every wreckage and corpse of what was left from Cleyra. Taking me away, my children, my husband, everything.
I did not expect to be rescued by Lindblum's airship force. Not at all. Why me? I-I'm not important. My husband wasn't either when he was incinerated by a... a Black, er... One of those awful things. They did not know Dan was my husband, they did not care to get rid of him, I did not care at the moment as I... I survived, somehow. Of all people, I survived, and I don't feel like I should have.
Why was I spared, but not my children? I ask but no one answers. I guess no one can. They just can't.
They also think I'm too weak to do anything. They treat me like they did when I was pregnant, you can't do this, you can't do that. It's impossible to live like that. I can't even say that I'm living, I'm surviving... I'm a survivor.
The King is also dead. He was there when it happened, the big explosion, everything collapsed and- I don't remember the rest. People screaming, maybe. Sometimes I don't want to remember, it's not like I have to.
Oh, Burmecia... I spent a lifetime working on you and you won't even talk to me.