May 15th, 1800
...
As a refugee, I had nowhere to go.
I thought I'd be safe at Cleyra. It's where they went next.
The same soldiers and Black Mages who decimated my home... And their ugly majesty... All of them went to Cleyra.
When I woke up the morning after, half of my body was covered in third degree burns. One side is dry, deep red skin. The other seems fine. It seems fine, but it's not the same when the other half is, uh... Deteriorating, it's what the doctor said. That and... I should have died. The explosion should have killed me. Even the doctor agrees.
I can't feel anything on the left side of my body. It feels wrong to move. I could stab my arm with a knife and I would not feel its tip. Not that I ever tried, I... I don't really want to know if I can still feel that much pain on my left. It hurts, yes, it does. Whenever I wake up, it hurts. Sometimes, it feels like I'm still burning from the heat of the flame that should have consumed me as a whole, body and soul, but it did not.
I should have died, that's a fact.