A prison cell, a scrap of paper for my confession, scarce enough bread and water. All I get for skimming one lousy bottle from the lyrium stores. Knight-Lieutenant Freyan cut my normal rations for "insubordination." Insubordination, my arse. It's because I saw him desert the guard tower to meet his girl. Freyan thought he'd teach me a lesson. I'm thirsty, but the water doesn't work. It should be more... blue. But the ration's too small. If they don't give you enough, your hands get cold. The sky starts to press down on you. Little things slip away. So you have to stay.