[Talia]

Entry 1.

Sitting here, my face to a pile of papers, I find that I'm strengthened in my resolve to help this place. And I need to write down why.

I was terrified, when I first woke up. I didn't feel I belonged; everyone was foreign, alien. The world is broken. The Risen are all here in the same place, fighting for their life on a lifeboat through a turbulent sea, threatening to capsize at any moment. At times, it breaks into violence that threatens to sink our fragile little community. At times, something happens that could destroy it all.

And yet, despite the occasional bad actor, or random event, or horrific monster - for the most part - there's a calm seriousness about what needs to be done. They seal the Scars. They protect the town. They learn more of the world around us. They strive for greatness.

I see that greatness amongst everyone, across the entirety of the world. Noble monks, strong warriors, heroic lawmen, ingenious spellcasters. I see it everywhere - except in myself.

I went to a sermon for Shentar, a day after I first came to Rise from the Well. There was chanting inside; talk of bettering yourself. Being the best person you could be. Knowing that you could be something more. And yet - all I felt was fear.

I knew that I could not repeat what the priest was saying, and I felt like an imposter sitting in on this holy right among such wonderful people. I just knew that I wouldn't be able to do... any of it. I can never be something like them. I've already failed once. I know I have. That feeling of not fitting it - it lingers. Clings to my soul. Every time I'm amongst a group of them, it feels like I'm a child trying to explain complex mathematics to a group of professors.

Another feeling came to me when I rose from the Well, and it's followed me ever sense. This guilt, this horrible knowledge that I did something and lost everything.. And they're all here. Did I know them, before? Have I failed everyone here in my past life? Somehow, some way, I feel like I'm never going to live up to the expectations surrounding me. And I don't think there are many expectations here.

Misery, shame, it's what drives me to pursue the goals I pursue. I hold hope for this world; I know that they'll fix it. They're amazing people, amazing heroes from legends past. Brought together to do the impossible.

All I can do is try. And I've been doing that. Researching what I can, pouring myself into work. If I don't stop to sleep, if I don't eat, if I don't focus on anything but the work at hand, I don't have to think about how much of a failure I am. Simple plans, to keep the goal posts achievable for a failure like me. Simple goals, focusing on one problem at a time.

Threats to Risenholm need to be put down. I'm not strong, I'm not brave, I'm not the smartest. I'm just a failure that was chosen by mistake, trying to hide amongst the heroes around me by smiling and pretending it's okay. I barely know any of them, and that's partially on purpose. Why should they know me? Focus on the task at hand, on the problem to be solved.

If I can at least make this world a bit happier for them. If I could at least make up for whatever I did in the past, whatever it was.

So I smile. I wave. I do the song and dance, and I do what little I can.

I fall, and I rise again, and I fall, and I rise again.

There may never be nothing more to me than my mistakes - but they don't ever have to know that. Let them see what I put on. I'll jump in front of whatever I can for what I did - and maybe, one day, it'll fix something. Maybe I'll even think I'm more than a piece of trash.

Or I'll just disappear. And they'll never know my name.