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RUMINATIONS
I am troubled by an idea which threatens to shatter my whole world.
This idea, a black thought born from a mire of malice and despair, is far from having true credence. Yet it persists. And it persists because I know, deeply, that the pristine faith I once held has sustained scar after scar. Only now do I see them, only now do I notice them.
The idea which troubles me is this: that Vel Anir, the Republic, my country and homeland, may not be what I think it is. That it may not be worthy of my belief in it.
I write this even as I fight a war on my country's behalf. Within this locked journal, an item I acquired at significant expense, I feel that, if I cannot speak these ruminations of mine aloud into the world, then with pen and parchment I can contend with them. I must interrogate this idea to the fullest, for the very course of my life depends upon it. Raw shall be my thoughts, written in times of haste and in times of slowness. No rhetoric fit for publishing, these pages sealed by latch and key. But useful, nonetheless, to my inquiry, as I shall have a record, ever increasing, and through ink shall my thoughts be, if not organized, then at least collected.
In this way, I hope to produce an aid to my conclusion. I see this endeavor ending in one of two ways:
Either I will burn this book, for its contents will have served their purpose, and the Republic, Vel Anir, my homeland, will be vindicated, and I may live in peace, even if an imperfect peace—for no country on Arethil is wholly without blemish.
Or I will keep this book until my dying day, for it will be the marker and the reminder of the moment when I, with the truth discerned, faced no other option but to do what is right.
I cannot fight for something I do not believe in.
This is the unshakeable truth from which I shall begin.