To thee who findest these words, Thou holdest the last breath of my soul, pressed ’twixt trembling fingers and holy parchment. I am Sister Agnes of Saint Severin, once a maid of quiet prayers and gentle faith, now a woman whose heart beateth wild beneath the shadow of Death’s cold mantle. I have beheld the world unravelling into darkness, the pestilence’s black wings enfolding our cloister as a silent