Page 55 of Of Flames and Fallacies

I finally made it to Groveden with nothing but the clothes on my back, the dragon egg in my satchel, this journal, and my sword.

The farther north I got, the poorer the cities became. It hit me that the riches of the King were kept close to his castle. I witnessed thin children playing in the muddied streets of weathered towns, and the sullen faces of the townspeople.

I was so tempted to stop them. To beg them to live a better life in the Dragon Lands. But I knew in doing so I risked everything.

I trudged on and found refuge by the river near Padmoor.

It started to feel more like home, with the thick cover of trees and the bubble of rivers. Even the air seemed clearer here. The smell wet and earthy, and birds singing in the treetops.

I spent a few days tucked into the Northern Forest, mapping out how to make the last stretch to the Dragon Lands. I was so close.

And then I’d be free.

Reunited with the place and people I called home.

I pause, lingering on the last sentence. How could such a corrupt group of people be considered home? What changed, from then to now, that they were responsible for unspeakable acts against the northern towns?

Against innocent people?

I chew my lip over and over again as I think of Hornwood.

Why were they doing this?

When I flip to the next page, my heart sinks to the pits of my stomach. I flip again. And again.

Blank, blank, blank.

Tears well into my eyes. There’s nothing left. I would never know how he and my mother met or how they fell in love. While I’m not sure what I expected, the abrupt ending sinks me. As I take my hand off the journal, the back cover inches closed on its own. The remaining pages flutter closed, and I glimpse something scrawled onto the end pages. I flatten the book, turning through the pages again and stop.

The blood drains from my face, my mouth dropping open at what is written toward the back of the journal.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

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