Written By Eleyna
Dec. 2, 2016, 1:55 p.m.(4/11/1005 AR)
Griza is perfectly well-behaved, sister. Perhaps said offensive material was tracked in on your boots. You might have missed it with your general odor to mask it.
Written By Eleyna
Dec. 1, 2016, 12:28 p.m.(4/8/1005 AR)
Oh, look. More poets.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 27, 2016, 11:01 p.m.(3/25/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Blacktongue
Our verbal sparring is as satisfying as his counsel is valuable. I would not call our friendship unlikely, but it could have just as easily soured into cruelty and sharp words.
I find myself rather glad that it did not.
I find myself rather glad that it did not.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 27, 2016, 10:50 p.m.(3/25/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Niccolo
My beloved uncle. There is no mistaking that it was his hand that crafted my wits and my mind. I have ever strived to be worthy of his respect and admiration.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 27, 2016, 10:48 p.m.(3/25/1005 AR)
When I was a little girl, I was in love with the small birds that used to flutter in my mother's menagerie. Birds of all colors with their sweet little voices chirping on the breeze. Perhaps I only loved them because she did and I was ever trying to win myself into her graces.
I remember her as very beautiful, but very cold. Whatever joy she showed was reserved for those birds. I was desperate to hold one, to catch one. I believed that, if I did, I could win my mother's admiration. Maybe even her love.
As any small child does, I chased. I stalked. I tried to devise cunning plans that only resulted in those birds forever eluding my grasp.
One day, in a rare moment that she actually saw me, my mother found me in the menagerie, chasing those birds. She did not scold me, but instead, she taught me how to sit very still, very quiet with a few seeds in my hand. And let the birds come to me.
I thought I sat there for hours, waiting for one of the brightly-feathered darlings to alight into my palm. Finally, just when I had given up hope, a small, bright-eyed little blackbird landed in my palm and pecked at the seed there. I remember the delight I felt as my mother laughed and kissed me, the first I can remember from her.
And the last. She died the following winter. My memories of my mother are few, but her lesson in patience remains even now.
I remember her as very beautiful, but very cold. Whatever joy she showed was reserved for those birds. I was desperate to hold one, to catch one. I believed that, if I did, I could win my mother's admiration. Maybe even her love.
As any small child does, I chased. I stalked. I tried to devise cunning plans that only resulted in those birds forever eluding my grasp.
One day, in a rare moment that she actually saw me, my mother found me in the menagerie, chasing those birds. She did not scold me, but instead, she taught me how to sit very still, very quiet with a few seeds in my hand. And let the birds come to me.
I thought I sat there for hours, waiting for one of the brightly-feathered darlings to alight into my palm. Finally, just when I had given up hope, a small, bright-eyed little blackbird landed in my palm and pecked at the seed there. I remember the delight I felt as my mother laughed and kissed me, the first I can remember from her.
And the last. She died the following winter. My memories of my mother are few, but her lesson in patience remains even now.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 18, 2016, 5:26 p.m.(2/26/1005 AR)
Growing up, I was a shy, reserved child, made so by the premature death of my mother and the neglect of my father, which left my upbringing in the hands of servants, tutors, and the periods of affection I would reserve from members of the extended family. Because I was quiet and often unnoticed, I learned to watch, to look for patterns in the way people conduct themselves. As I grew older, I learned further how to spot times when this varies.
It was a useful skill as a child and became even more valuable as an adult.
Now, I turn my observations on the world around, made different over night by the realization that the tales and stories of the past weren’t just fanciful re-telling of mundane events but they carried truth. Here is what I see:
Systematically, nearly every mature leader of the Houses of Compact has been eliminated. House Velenosa, House Valardin, and House Redrain are led by young leaders who aren’t as tested as their elders were. Even in the minor Houses, there seem to be more young leaders than old. The King sleeps and Lady Dawn is now Regent. Instability is sewn into the very Houses of the Compact .
Messengers dead. Ships disappeared. Communication is being cut off, but, if you think of this as a war, so are supply lines. We must remember what Arx was, why this city was built. It was created to withstand a siege. I promise that our enemies have not forgotten the city’s purpose. What would they not do to undermine it?
I see our leaders thinking in terms of soldiers, but an army lives on communication and on its belly. We court defeat if we forget the practical matters in favor of the martial.
It was a useful skill as a child and became even more valuable as an adult.
Now, I turn my observations on the world around, made different over night by the realization that the tales and stories of the past weren’t just fanciful re-telling of mundane events but they carried truth. Here is what I see:
Systematically, nearly every mature leader of the Houses of Compact has been eliminated. House Velenosa, House Valardin, and House Redrain are led by young leaders who aren’t as tested as their elders were. Even in the minor Houses, there seem to be more young leaders than old. The King sleeps and Lady Dawn is now Regent. Instability is sewn into the very Houses of the Compact .
Messengers dead. Ships disappeared. Communication is being cut off, but, if you think of this as a war, so are supply lines. We must remember what Arx was, why this city was built. It was created to withstand a siege. I promise that our enemies have not forgotten the city’s purpose. What would they not do to undermine it?
I see our leaders thinking in terms of soldiers, but an army lives on communication and on its belly. We court defeat if we forget the practical matters in favor of the martial.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 8, 2016, 10:06 p.m.(1/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Esera
When we were children, I was always striving to keep up with Esera. In our games, she always surpassed me by at least a narrow margin. She grew into the epitome of Lycene beauty, smoke and flames and shadows in human form while I was ice and alabaster.
When I was sent away to marry my first husband, I wondered at why the gods had designed her to rule while I was meant to be nothing but a piece in the game.
Now, all these years later, when I look into my cousin's eyes, I feel grateful for the role the gods gave to me. I know what I am, I know my strengths, and I also know that I was never equipped to carry her burdens.
When I was sent away to marry my first husband, I wondered at why the gods had designed her to rule while I was meant to be nothing but a piece in the game.
Now, all these years later, when I look into my cousin's eyes, I feel grateful for the role the gods gave to me. I know what I am, I know my strengths, and I also know that I was never equipped to carry her burdens.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 8, 2016, 8:12 p.m.(1/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
He is as much a riddle as his puzzle box. I wonder what would be revealed if he is ever solved.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 6, 2016, 8:37 p.m.(1/18/1005 AR)
The Gala was an interesting event, very different from the other parties I've attended so far in the city. Princess Natalia's flair for the dramatic extends, to wonderful effect, to her taste in decor and clothing.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 3, 2016, 2:48 p.m.(1/8/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Jarek
We were close as children. I believe Jarek was my first friend. It's good to see that absolutely nothing has changed despite the very different paths our lives have taken.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 1, 2016, 7:12 p.m.(1/3/1005 AR)
I don't care what people say about me behind my back. There are those that desperately want me to care, but I don't. Those that whisper are small-minded fools that don't possess two wits to rub together to make a fire. I'm not interested in the opinions of stupid people.
Written By Eleyna
Nov. 1, 2016, 7:09 p.m.(1/3/1005 AR)
There was a dance hosted by Princesses Sophie and Isabeau of House Valardin. I danced with Archlector Orazio and had a nice conversation. Overall, it was a pleasant evening.
...
No, there isn't anything I would like to add. If you want descriptions of the flowers and dresses and people, you need to speak to someone else. Are we finished here?
...
No, there isn't anything I would like to add. If you want descriptions of the flowers and dresses and people, you need to speak to someone else. Are we finished here?
Written By Eleyna
Oct. 29, 2016, 5:50 p.m.(12/22/1004 AR)
Relationship Note on Serafine
Ten blissful years away. Ten years of not being mortified that my sister acts like a peasant. Ten years of never needing to endure another vassal's surprise that, of all people, -she- is my sister.
Ten years ended by finding her on the training grounds, naked as the day she was born. In front of a man of faith, no less.
Of course.
Ten years ended by finding her on the training grounds, naked as the day she was born. In front of a man of faith, no less.
Of course.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.