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As the light from the window recedes, casting her journal into shadow, Radri sets a candle upon the candle holder on the nightstand, then reaches over the side of the bed, rummaging around in her pack for flint and steel. As she fumbles around for it, Xan glances over from his place beside her, and extends a hand.

“Allow me,” he says. With a small gesture and a whisper of a command, the wick catches flame.

“Oh,” Radri says, looking up the lit candle, “Thank you.”

She abandons her now unnecessary search, and opens her journal once more. Xan glances over again.

“I never found the chance to ask what you write about,” he says.

“Mm?” Radri narrowly avoids leaving a blot of ink on the page, and gives her pen a dissatisfied frown, resolving to be more careful. “Normal things, I suppose. What happened today, what quests are in progress, what supplies we expended….”

“A summary of events, then, rather than a collection of personal reflections?” Xan says. “Did you keep such a journal in Candlekeep, as well?”

In Candlekeep? She had never considered it. Imagining it now, her entries would have blended together in their sameness; her days were a mixture of lessons and chores, with the only real variables being the rare travelers that came through the fortress’ gates.

“I didn’t keep a journal at all,” Radri says. “I was always so tired of writing by the end of each day that the last thing I wanted to do was light a candle and write into the night.”

She gives her current setup a wry smile.

“But now that I’m gone, there’s something comforting about the routine,” Radri says. “The scent of the paper, the ink… even the flame. Though Candlekeep isn’t as full of candles as its name would suggest.”

Then she blinks, and lifts her gaze from her journal, glancing over to him.

“I remember seeing that you have a journal, as well. Don’t you keep track of similar things?”

“Of our every encounter, foe, and death?” Xan says. “If I dwell too long on what has happened to us, I soon grow astonished at the fact that we are even still alive—and against my will, the mind wanders. I prefer to keep my entries to more pleasant reflections.”

“Pleasant reflections?” Radri echoes, curious, “Like what?”

“What else?” Xan says, gazing at her softly. “Thoughts of you, and our love.”