Chapter 115 - Soulstone

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After turning on the lanterns in his room, Roran sat in bed and cracked open his mother's diary, picking up where he left off.

With the Devereux's dead and gone, I had the house to myself. Never before had I been allowed unfettered access to such luxury. The first thing I did was run to Mr. Devereux's office to pilfer some ink and paper so I could write this confession down. What I truly craved to do was climb to the roof and scream my victory to the world, but I'm of a practical sort and such things are an invitation for misfortune, so this will have to do.

The second thing I did was heat up water for a bath. I spent an hour filling their biggest tub full of steaming water and tossed in a whole bar of soap. I stayed in that bath, soaking and scrubbing until my fingers were pruned and every trace of blood was erased from my skin.

The young miss and I were of a similar size so I took some of her traveling clothes and a couple of her finer dresses that flattered my form. Feeling fresh and clean for the first time in years, I spent the next few hours in Mr. Devereux's office, pilfering every last coin they had. I took the liberty of writing a few letters of travel and recommendation for myself, creating a backstory as his personal assistant out performing errands on his behalf. Naturally, I was careful to mimic his handwriting as closely as possible. It wasn't too difficult, I had plenty of letters to copy from.

Then I made a quick trip to the library to collect some of my favorite books, a few references for edible herbs, and a handful of maps. I also snagged some blank journals and some ink so I could continue writing my stories. I fear that someday soon that these will be the only trace of my existence, and I'd rather leave behind a tragic confession than nothing at all.

Finally, I filled a bag with as much traveling food as I could. Breads, hard cheeses, dried meats, anything that would last out on the road. With my bags packed, I went out to the stables, pausing to ensure that all of the miserable hounds were dead, and found a horse. My only knowledge of horse handling came from the books in Mr. Devereux's library, but there was a simple way to turn that into practical experience.

I fumbled through readying the horse for travel. It was a patient enough beast and I fed it plenty of apples for the trouble. Then, as prepared as I could be, I returned to the house and collected every ounce of lamp oil I could find. I soaked the carpets, drenched the walls, and thoroughly doused every Devereux inside the house. Then I lit a lantern, placed it below one of the curtains, and left.

It was strange being on the open road again. My stomach was a pit of squirming snakes as I departed the Devereux household for the first time in years. The sun was climbing into the sky and a warm spring day was upon me. I saw no one on that first day of travel. Truth be told, I saw little at all. I traveled out of the woods surrounding the Devereux's property which turned into rolling fields of wheat.

It wasn't until the sun was beginning to set and the sky was painted red and orange that I finally looked back and saw a thin pillar of black smoke rising up from the woods. That was when it finally registered. I was free. I was beyond their grasp. The Devereux's would never again be able to touch me.

I sang to myself then, a simple little tune I had learned from my mother, and I thought of how sweet it would be to go home. Of course, I can't go home. I don't think I'll ever be able to go home, not after everything that has happened. I'm not a florist's daughter anymore. I'm a servant, a whore, and a murderer. There is no place for me back home. Best to let my parents think me dead rather than bring home the horrible truth.

A knock at the door pulled Roran out of the story. He snapped the journal shut and opened the door with a gesture. Nul stood on the other side, bleary eyed and looking a little confused.

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