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Epilogue

August 6, 1580

Over the last few days the crew had begun to lose hope, and I’ll admit as had I.

We were running out of food and water, the sun had turned our skin red and it burned to the touch, every day was the same, and no one really talked, but Weyln and I, not wanting to use their soar throats.

If I hadn't met up with Anenon every night I would've surely gone mad. His presence brought me a strange sense of peace, and comfort.

August 8, 1580

Like every other day we walked, and walked for hours on end. I had long lost hope of finding anything at the end of our journey but half way through the day. Cutler spotted a well in the distance. “It’s a well, there must be a village nearby!” Cutler yelled, his voice rough, and horse from dehydration. He ran over to it, and we all quickly followed.

We took turns drinking from the well. I must've drank half my body weight. I had never been so thirsty before.