12th of February - 1892

  It was a wondrous day. There truly couldn’t be a better one! Sandra, my dearest love. She asked! She wanted to wait till she could feel ready. But now she asked to marry me. And I have said yes, of course. Nearly five years of courtship, and all that time she was summoning the courage to perform an act that took us no more than a moment to achieve. We are to be wed. Praise to the Gods!

  To the Hands of Fate, I thank you for paving our paths to intertwine. If not for you, I would have died long before. She would have remained unhappy, as much as she reminded me during the day we spent together.

  As I write this down, I can still remember the warmth of her breath on my neck and the curve of her bare back as she brought us to bed during the beginning of our bonding as wife and husband.

  She wants children. Children! Little boys and girls running around. She is so happy about this. I am too. But… what life would they know, having their father for a Bodyhunter? I am uncertain.

  Given the general notion that Bodyhunters should not form emotional bonds… my bonding with Sandra could place her in truest danger. But she doesn’t care, as brave and proud as she is. She wants me as much as I want her.

  I will go to Hacker tomorrow. He would give good counsel, as he has done for so long. I have not known a more loyal friend and a more decent man than he. He will know the path to take.

  30th of March - 1892

  It cannot be real. We checked and rechecked again with Hacker. He confirmed it to be the case. Sandra is with child! I feel like I can walk on water, eat fire, break stone! Sandra was in joyous tears. It was unbelievable for her.

  Her family had a history of failed child bearings. It was a thought that plagued her for so long. But she refused to allow it in her mind. And now, now she has broken through her familial curse!

  Many plans are put into action now! I would have to consider how to hide the notion that I am a father from my fellow Bodyhunters. They would not understand nor care to. Especially Hildur, our newest recruit.

  She has a vicious streak in her. I care not for her treatment of slaves nor her methods for hunting escaped ones. She would jump at the chance to hurt Sandra and the child, just to hurt me. I cannot allow her near them.

  But what else could I do? Fight all the Bodyhunters after killing Hildur? Madness.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  These are the desperate thoughts of a new father. I cannot allow that to jeopardise what I have carved for myself. Sandra would understand that. No, no… The only way would be to ensure Hildur and the rest of them never find out about her. That is the way. We will be happy, at long last.

  31st of December - 1892

  A second day of grief freezes my heart. I hold onto my wife as we mourn for the death of our child. She came into the world and lived in it for only an hour.

  A ‘cradle death’, Hacker surmised. Our daughter… our daughter… she just fell asleep that same night and didn't wake up. She didn’t have a chance to wear the clothes that Sandra had knitted for her. I cannot bring myself to write her name.

  It is all I can do to hold back the flood of sorrow from engulfing me.

  It was Sandra who found her first.

  I found them later, Sandra holding her and screaming on the bedroom floor.

  It took all my emotional strength to stop my wife from hurling herself down the stairs in a deranged attempt to join our daughter in the World Beyond. I had to stop myself from such darkness.

  I am the second-in-command of the Bodyhunters, one of the elite fighting forces in all Peteshko. I have the ear of a Baron. People scurry out of my way as I walk the streets. The Docking Fellows and the other gangs tremble at my approach. No one stands in my way.

  So what?

  What is the point of all that power and control, if I could not save my little girl?

  I curse the Hands of Fate in their callous disregard for my baby. Did they not wish for me to have joy? What was the point of all the pain and fear my life has reaped if I cannot just have one moment of hope in it? What is their plan with me? What do they want from me?!

  ———

  Hacker has just left. He came by the house and sat down with me whilst Sandra rests in the bedroom that should have been our daughter’s. She rarely leaves that room. Hacker’s tincture of chamomile and laudanum has done great wonders to ease her emotions. I wish I could use it. But I must keep my head on straight.

  Hacker talked with me about my life and how I felt. It was strange for him to take such a vested interest in me. But he explained that he feels a sense of responsibility for me and Sandra.

  Then he gave me a strange piece of advice. That we try for another child when Sandra is ready.

  Of course, I spat on the idea. It was clear that the Hands of Fate deemed it unsuitable for me. I would never be a father.

  But Hacker said otherwise. He said that perhaps the Hands of Fate needed us to understand the loss of childbearing in order to appreciate it truly. And to truly love the child when we ourselves as children were not.

  I grow quiet at that. Was that it? A lesson for us to learn? If so, it was a hard one to bear.

  Hacker tells me to give Sandra time to heal. I am to stay by her side, comfort and love her when she asks for it. I find it ironic that I have taken the role she had during the days we first met. It is a role that I wish not for another. But I take it willingly for her sake.

  Hacker was right, as he usually is in the matters of the heart. Sandra is hungry, desperate for distraction and in her mourning throes, she demands my body. Anything to drive away the grief and the pain, even if for a moment. I give myself without hesitation as I too crave any chance for respite. We make love. We cry before, during the acts and afterwards. But with each turn of our bodies, the pain lessens.

  I wipe away the tears from these recent entries. I’m trying not to smudge the ink. If the Hands of Fate can be as kind as they have been so cruel, then I beg them. Please give my Sandra her happiness again. Give her a reason to smile.

  If you do that… then I will leave the Bodyhunters. I do not care how. I will find a way. I swear it.