Prologue
Running, running. I was; no, I am running. It's hard to keep track, they mess with your head, can't tell past from present, dream from reality. This will be my last diary entry. They thought there were three, three Roses but no, oh no. They couldn't be more wrong, the fourth rose exists and they will never get their hands on it because I've hidden it, yes, oh yes I have. My sword grows blunt, my armor bashed and my boots worn. My time ends soon, but you, you who one day reads this final note will know, oh yes, you'll know where the Rose is. Hidden in plain sight, yet impossible to see, buried among a million dead and dancing where a million live. It's so obvious, yet couldn't be more unclear.
Go on. Find the Rose. Let my death not be in vain.
