I knew one of the men who was killed. He was a friend of Da's. A friend. Not an associate, not one of those creepy men in the robes who use my father as a servant with promises of a better world when it's over.
Da wasn't chosen to go on the St. Mungo's fiasco, and for that I thank the gods. Since the accident where he hurt his leg, he's had a limp. It slows him down enough that he's not as "useful" as he once was, not to Them, at least.
I'm glad he's home more, but it's taking his toll. He's trying even harder when he is allowed to attend meetings, pushing himself harder. I'm scared that he's going to do something he'll regret and get hurt worse.
I hate this. I hate the war, I hate that there has to be sides, I just want this to all be over, but I don't dare say anything to Da. I can't even say it out loud in case someone overhears.