Night 3 of the Waxing Moon
I have written to Boyar Bakir again, but he remains silent. And I cannot linger anymore. I have begun to reach out to the others as well. One of them will answer. They must.
Night 9 of the Waxing Moon
My desire burns too brightly to be ignored. How can they not see it? Do they fear I might rise too high if granted their gift? Hell, I am meant to be more than this brittle flesh! I have dreamt it. I have read it in the entrails of beasts. I will not wither with old age, I refuse to.
Night 1 of the Waning Moon
The letters are not enough. Paper cannot carry the depth of my devotion. So, I prepared a ritual to reach them. Each night, I kindle the candles, and each night, I whisper their names. They must hear me now.
Night 9 of the Waning Moon
I cannot rest. Every thought is the same. My talents should not be wasted on mortality! The vrakhiri must see that. I will make the ritual stronger, impossible to ignore.
Night of the New Moon
At last! Boyar Bakir came to me, all smiles and cheer, impressed that I dared to claw at his thoughts. At first, I feared punishment. Instead, he rewarded me with the seed of immortality, held within his own tooth. He said I need to swallow it to become one of them.
And so I did.
Later, the same night
The tooth burns within me. Each breath hurts like hell, yet I laugh through the pain. I know it all will be worth it in the end. It must be.