A Watchman’s JournalEstimated Day 1 of the Ash EventThe ink on these parchment pages is badly smeared by grey ash, but the frantic, jagged handwriting is still legible.“...The sun is gone. Just... gone.Captain Lang ordered every street brazier lit, but the wood won’t catch properly. The flames aren’t orange anymore. They’re black. Cold. The more braziers we light, the darker the streets seem to become. It’s like the fire is swallowing the light instead of giving it.Miller dragged in a length of heavy black timber from one of the old storage yards. Said the foresters called it Gloom-Oak. We split it apart and struck a spark.Blue.A bright, impossible blue.For the first time since the sky died... I felt warm.The ash still falls, but it doesn’t burn as badly inside the light. Men who couldn’t stop shaking finally managed to unclench their hands.If anyone finds these pages—don’t waste your matches on pine or oak. It won’t save you.Find the blue wood.Find the Gloom-Oak.Without it... I don’t think any of us will survive the night.”