The Scars of a Horrible War (Single)

[Forrest Waldstein]

Journal Entry #8: August 14th, 85 AGW:

The Oakhearth Civil War is finally over... All that conflict, all that bloodshed... for what? Just to prove they were better than us? Well, they're not the ones that survived. We survived, the Traditionalists, not the Ultranationalists. They threatened our way of life with secession from Vale and an attempt to expand our borders. You might think it stupid to fight against a much larger and well equipped army, but people from Oakhearth are an independent and hardy people. If Vale managed to survive the guerilla warfare, they wouldn't survive the Grimm, not to mention the logistical problems they would have faced. They couldn't torch the forests either, something about 'preserving the natural beauty of the country' was important to a lot of people in Vale. I'd hate to give them credit for it, but the UN's had thought this out more than we thought.

My name is Forrest Waldstein, I'm one of the unfortunate souls who had to fight my own people to secure a future peace. It's a fate I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. I was a huge boon to the Traditionalists, thanks to my training at Beacon Academy. In fact, if you knew me at Beacon when I first started, you probably wouldn't recognize me now. I got stronger, much stronger than the string bean I used to be. I also couldn't fix my shaggy hair and bushy beard in the field, the UN's didn't give us a reprieve until the bitter end. If you remembered me from my awkward but kind demeanor, I'm no longer the same person I was before. War changes people for the worse. I can hardly make eye contact with anyone anymore, too many times I had to see the life leave someone's eyes.

I thought I'd be relieved when the war was over, and yet, I feel empty. We lost too many good people fighting the good fight, like Blaine, Flynn, Heather, Hunter, Rory, and Sunny. They will be remembered for their duty, and will be buried with full honors. First, I have to check up on my old man, Silvanus. We could've used his help, but he came down with something serious, he was completely bedridden. That's when the UN's chose to strike. They took advantage of the power vacuum he left behind, usurping all power for themselves. Now you might be thinking, why did they leave him alive? Wasn't he fervently opposed to what the UN's stood for? Well, the UN's were kinda... cult-like in their reverence of a 125 year old man, treating him like some kind of god-king. Needless to say, he hated it. Silvanus just wanted to be seen as an everyman, not some prophet coming to bring them to greatness. They kept him alive, but weakened. They knew if he got the right treatment, he would've easily taken over their regime.

Anyway, I wanted to keep a journal, for posterity. It was hard to find chances to write, being under enemy fire doesn't exactly help your concentration. Hopefully the publishing company sees reason and redacts as little as possible. People have a right to know exactly what happened here, and I shouldn't let them dictate what is allowed to be shown. But they have the final say in everything, those sons of bitches. This is likely my last entry, since the war is over and all that. I'll be busy with everyone else repairing buildings and infrastructure in the town. That and Silvanus needs to name a successor since our hopes aren't too high for a recovery. There's a few candidates for that, including me, but by tradition he has to choose one himself.

[REDACTED], if you're reading this, I'm alive and well. I'd do anything to see you again... I love you...

The very bottom of the page is wet in scattered places, possibly from raindrops, though eyewitness accounts report no precipitation on August 14th, 85 AGW...