He’s gone, dead, and the space he left behind just keeps getting louder.
But I’m writing because I don’t want to lose the day I met him. Not yet. Not after everything.
It was at the market, of all places.
I was on duty. He was leaning against a cart of smuggled scales like he wanted to be caught. Arrogant. Outerlander. Cocky in that infuriating, casual way that only someone outside the system can be.
I told him I could Reassign him on the spot. He laughed and said, “Then do it.” I don’t know why I didn’t. I should have. I meant to. But something in his eyes, there was no fear. Just curiosity, like I was the one being studied.
So I left.
But I went back.
Twice. Then four times. Then I stopped counting.
He made me angry, almost every time we spoke. He asked me questions no one else ever had, challenged everything and called the Citadel a system. Said we were taught obedience, not truth. He accused me of following rules I didn’t believe in, and worse—he was right.
I told myself I was meeting him to gather intel. Then I told myself I was just trying to understand.
But the truth is, I kept going back because when I was with him… I didn’t feel like a soldier. I felt like myself.
He was wild. Sharp in all the ways I wasn't. Smarter than he let on. And stars, he was kind in a way that felt dangerous. He showed me places I wasn’t supposed to see. Told me stories that never made it into the Citadel’s records. He said history was written by survivors, not saints. And that some truths only survive in blood, not books.
If I had Reassigned him that day, I would’ve done everything right. Yet I would have missed the most honest thing I’ve ever had.
Loving him cost me everything I thought I needed, but he gave me something the Citadel never could.
He gave me you.
And damn me… I’d choose him. Every time.
Even if it meant losing him again. Over and over.
Moonlight spills through the window, pale and thin, but just enough to read the journal resting open in my lap. I haven’t turned the page in minutes. My hands won’t let go—knuckles locked white, grip so tight it aches. Like if I hold on hard enough, maybe the truth won’t sink in.
But it already has.She lied.
She said he was a coward. A criminal. Outerlander trash who chose smugglers over family. Said he abandoned us,abandoned me,and then got himself killed before I was born.
But that’s not what these pages say. He loved her. She loved him. They ran. Together. And then he died.
All my life, I thought Innerlanders and Outerlanders couldn’t mix—couldn’t trust each other, couldn’t evenunderstandeach other.
Turns out, they did. Turns out,I existbecause they did.
So why did she tell me he left? Why paint him as the villain? What else has she twisted to fit the version of the world she wanted me to believe?
I was raised to think the system was clean lines, good and bad. Control and chaos. Inner and Outer, but now I’m not so sure. Now, it’s all bleeding together.
If I can’t trust her version of him, what else do I have to question?
Ezzy. Finn. Rowan. They’re all Innerlanders. And they’re nothing like what I was taught to expect. They’re my friends. And if they aren’t what I was told… If my dad wasn’t…
Then maybe Talen isn’t either.
Maybe I’ve been wrong about him, too.
I keep saying he’s just another weapon of the Citadel. Another loyal dog in polished black. I’ve told myself he’s the enemy because it was easier than admitting I don’t know where he stands. Or whereIdo.
