From the Journal of the Late Noel Aig 7/12/11:

My room was colder than I had left it. Hotel rooms often are, but I think the bone frost chill was more than a temperature issue. I took down my hair and laid on the bed for quite some time, just staring at the ceiling.

She knew.

I could see it in her face: Famine believed, in her heart of hearts, that she was going to die and do so soon. It pained her more than anything else to have this knowledge and have no apprentice. I don’t know how close the Four Horsemen are, but I couldn’t help but feel how very lonely she was. She didn’t want to share this, and I couldn’t blame her.

It would be a lie to say that I didn’t briefly consider the position. I wanted to help her so badly, wanted to temporarily stop the aching in her heart that I could feel in my own just watching her. But it would also be a lie not to say that I simply can’t. I don’t have the courage to live a life so cut off from the rest of the world. And as I think about my cabal, my city, my friends and loved ones, my wife, I couldn’t give them up. Maybe this makes me a bad person, or selfish somehow that I’m not willing to serve the Awakened Nation, that there are things I won’t sacrifice. I’ve never even considered that before.

Still, I know that while I probably won’t be dreaming of coins, that face will haunt me tonight, those distant eyes, the crack in her voice, the yearning for a single person willing to understand.

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