Written By Lys
Jan. 15, 2024, 12:01 a.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
[This White Journal has bold, large lettering at the top of it.]
THE TRUTH AND LIES OF LYS DE LIRE.
I am a liar. I am a con artist, a scammer, a grifter.
I was abandoned as a baby to an orphanage. My parents were last known as 'Lord Valt' and 'Lady Willow'. One was a con artist and the other a grift. Two people pretending to be nobles with the idea in their heads to seduce a real, rich noble to land themselves a rich, titled spouse. Somewhere in their schemes they fell in love. They had me and abandoned me to the orphanage. The status of my parents is unknown. Do they live? Maybe. Are they dead? Maybe.
I grew up there in that orphanage in the Lowers. It was awful. I left younger than I should have. I was never good enough at any job to do well in them. I was too loud, to bright, to charming, to stubborn, to opinionated, to ready to fight. I fought customers, I fought my employers, I fought everyone and everything tooth and nail.
I belonged no where and with no one. I slept on the streets. In the backrooms of shops. I slept in dirt. I slept on the beach once or twice. I didn't always know where I was going to get food from because I was often without a job. And I was so very, very tire of fighting tooth and nail to survive. I was tired of trying to claw my way up to a better life through honesty and hard work.
Then Lord Commander Audric of the Valorous Few was ennobled by Talen Velenosa. As a reward for Talen winning the Rose Tournament, so many many years ago. Audric grew up in the same orphanage as I. So why wouldn't we be related? Why couldn't I be one of his long lost cousins?
I didn't expect him to welcome me with open arms. I didn't expect him to give me everything I had never had. I never expected him to give me a place to belong. I never expected him to teach me how to fight. How to /really/ fight. I didn't expect him to nurture me. To guide me. I didn't expect him to embrace me as family and love me. And yet he did.
I didn't expect him to not only help me awaken my natural abilities but to accept them. As unsavory as most find powers gifted to one by the abyss.
I miss him daily. But it is time to live. Time to let the ghosts go. Time to laugh again.
Time to stop pretending. Time to stop pretending at happiness and find some real joy. Time to step into the light and tell people who I am. I have no desire to harm others. No desire to see the world ended. To be torn asunder. But I am not a good woman. I am a Liar. I am a Trickster. I am a Teller of Tall Tales. Veil smiles upon me. I am telling the world this truth now, so that you know. It is not must job to show you the truth. When you see me, when you meet me, when you hear my words. It is your job to figure out what the truth is and what is ... the trick. The joke. The lie. Because:
I am Alyssa de Lire, Baroness of Afflua, Liar and Trickster.
THE TRUTH AND LIES OF LYS DE LIRE.
I am a liar. I am a con artist, a scammer, a grifter.
I was abandoned as a baby to an orphanage. My parents were last known as 'Lord Valt' and 'Lady Willow'. One was a con artist and the other a grift. Two people pretending to be nobles with the idea in their heads to seduce a real, rich noble to land themselves a rich, titled spouse. Somewhere in their schemes they fell in love. They had me and abandoned me to the orphanage. The status of my parents is unknown. Do they live? Maybe. Are they dead? Maybe.
I grew up there in that orphanage in the Lowers. It was awful. I left younger than I should have. I was never good enough at any job to do well in them. I was too loud, to bright, to charming, to stubborn, to opinionated, to ready to fight. I fought customers, I fought my employers, I fought everyone and everything tooth and nail.
I belonged no where and with no one. I slept on the streets. In the backrooms of shops. I slept in dirt. I slept on the beach once or twice. I didn't always know where I was going to get food from because I was often without a job. And I was so very, very tire of fighting tooth and nail to survive. I was tired of trying to claw my way up to a better life through honesty and hard work.
Then Lord Commander Audric of the Valorous Few was ennobled by Talen Velenosa. As a reward for Talen winning the Rose Tournament, so many many years ago. Audric grew up in the same orphanage as I. So why wouldn't we be related? Why couldn't I be one of his long lost cousins?
I didn't expect him to welcome me with open arms. I didn't expect him to give me everything I had never had. I never expected him to give me a place to belong. I never expected him to teach me how to fight. How to /really/ fight. I didn't expect him to nurture me. To guide me. I didn't expect him to embrace me as family and love me. And yet he did.
I didn't expect him to not only help me awaken my natural abilities but to accept them. As unsavory as most find powers gifted to one by the abyss.
I miss him daily. But it is time to live. Time to let the ghosts go. Time to laugh again.
Time to stop pretending. Time to stop pretending at happiness and find some real joy. Time to step into the light and tell people who I am. I have no desire to harm others. No desire to see the world ended. To be torn asunder. But I am not a good woman. I am a Liar. I am a Trickster. I am a Teller of Tall Tales. Veil smiles upon me. I am telling the world this truth now, so that you know. It is not must job to show you the truth. When you see me, when you meet me, when you hear my words. It is your job to figure out what the truth is and what is ... the trick. The joke. The lie. Because:
I am Alyssa de Lire, Baroness of Afflua, Liar and Trickster.
Written By Faye
Jan. 14, 2024, 11:17 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I sent a note to the scholar staffing the traveling library dedicated to my mother. I am not sure if the note will reach him in time, but I told him he'd better get his ass to Sanctum. Leave the books, if necessary. If any of us survive, we will write more.
Written By Jan
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:36 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Somehow words fail me. I will find the right word for the occasion, fear not.
Written By Raven
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:35 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I am paying now for not devoting more time prior to unraveling the enigmas that plague me. So much for tunnel vision.
Written By Fatima
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:13 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Day 7:
The hiding of belongings and material objects, while touching, will not matter if all is devoured.
There is a fine line between stupidity and bravery. Sometimes, they are one and the same.
Lemons are sweet and honey is sour.
The hiding of belongings and material objects, while touching, will not matter if all is devoured.
There is a fine line between stupidity and bravery. Sometimes, they are one and the same.
Lemons are sweet and honey is sour.
Written By Jan
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:08 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Well, at least I needn't fret trivial matters anymore.
Written By Raven
Jan. 14, 2024, 10:06 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
so I don't know if the vision was a warning or trolling. I know only my fate is mine to choose. I wish I had addressed the exorcism and the crossing before now.
Written By Denica
Jan. 14, 2024, 9:24 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
The mistakes in the painting are just as beautiful as the perfect strokes.
It's all art, be it, own it, we are who we are. Nothing more, nothing less.
It's all art, be it, own it, we are who we are. Nothing more, nothing less.
Written By Samira
Jan. 14, 2024, 8:17 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Today I share excerpts of Black Journal entries I've written over the years. In many ways, I feel so far removed from the person I was. And yet, I'm still her at the core. So many of these thoughts resonate...
- So much is uncertain. What I do know is this: If I were to let fear dictate my choices, I would have faded into the anonymity of the Lowers streets long ago.
- Through it all, art is the answer. Half the time I can't find the words to express what has unfolded or how I feel about it, but with a paintbrush in hand, it all flows so simply.
- I never knew it was possible to love someone so fiercely and yet be so infuriated by them at the same time. So much of the time, he feels like home and safety and what is meant to be. But sometimes... sometimes our stubbornness gets in the way and we are like two forces of nature colliding.
- Trust. It's such a difficult, slippery thing. The act of solidifying trust with someone -- of sharing your innermost thoughts and desires and your darkest secrets, entrusting them to another's discretion -- it can be both terrifying and freeing.
- Sometimes I'm so reticent to share information that I end up having to carry the weight of a thing all on my own. I didn't realize how heavy it all felt until I finally shared my truth with someone I trust beyond words. I'm grateful we carry one another's secrets. I would follow her to the far reaches of the world and face whatever life throws at us.
- Wagner came by Rabble Art the other day and found me in the midst of an artistic block. Inspiration had fled, nothing would come to me. I felt like I was a bundle of anger and frustration. So we took pottery outside and smashed it against the wall, naming things that pissed us off. Some of the things Wagner named make me wonder, but I'll not pry. Wouldn't be right. I felt a mixture of emotions afterwards. Worse in some ways, but mostly better. It's good to have people who'll stand beside you and yell frustrations out into the world. People who care. People who matter.
- Who am I? The foul-mouthed, scrappy Lowers lass or the polite and erudite commoner or the frenzied, inspired artist? Friend. Foe. Lover. Sister. All. I am all of them in one. Layers upon layers, we are all made up of so many pieces. That's what makes life interesting, each of us possessing so much yet to be discovered.
- I will never stop looking over my shoulder, wondering if they're coming my way yet. I will never stop training. I will never stop attempting everything in my power to make myself stronger, smarter, faster in an attempt to evade these monsters that seek to destroy me. I'm not ready to die yet, and I refuse to believe that dying at their hands is inevitable.
- So much is uncertain. What I do know is this: If I were to let fear dictate my choices, I would have faded into the anonymity of the Lowers streets long ago.
- Through it all, art is the answer. Half the time I can't find the words to express what has unfolded or how I feel about it, but with a paintbrush in hand, it all flows so simply.
- I never knew it was possible to love someone so fiercely and yet be so infuriated by them at the same time. So much of the time, he feels like home and safety and what is meant to be. But sometimes... sometimes our stubbornness gets in the way and we are like two forces of nature colliding.
- Trust. It's such a difficult, slippery thing. The act of solidifying trust with someone -- of sharing your innermost thoughts and desires and your darkest secrets, entrusting them to another's discretion -- it can be both terrifying and freeing.
- Sometimes I'm so reticent to share information that I end up having to carry the weight of a thing all on my own. I didn't realize how heavy it all felt until I finally shared my truth with someone I trust beyond words. I'm grateful we carry one another's secrets. I would follow her to the far reaches of the world and face whatever life throws at us.
- Wagner came by Rabble Art the other day and found me in the midst of an artistic block. Inspiration had fled, nothing would come to me. I felt like I was a bundle of anger and frustration. So we took pottery outside and smashed it against the wall, naming things that pissed us off. Some of the things Wagner named make me wonder, but I'll not pry. Wouldn't be right. I felt a mixture of emotions afterwards. Worse in some ways, but mostly better. It's good to have people who'll stand beside you and yell frustrations out into the world. People who care. People who matter.
- Who am I? The foul-mouthed, scrappy Lowers lass or the polite and erudite commoner or the frenzied, inspired artist? Friend. Foe. Lover. Sister. All. I am all of them in one. Layers upon layers, we are all made up of so many pieces. That's what makes life interesting, each of us possessing so much yet to be discovered.
- I will never stop looking over my shoulder, wondering if they're coming my way yet. I will never stop training. I will never stop attempting everything in my power to make myself stronger, smarter, faster in an attempt to evade these monsters that seek to destroy me. I'm not ready to die yet, and I refuse to believe that dying at their hands is inevitable.
Written By Thea
Jan. 14, 2024, 7:42 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
More changes are coming. Drake will be thrilled!
Written By Raymesin
Jan. 14, 2024, 7:31 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
I have suggested that the Iron Guard commander call the populace to arms, Scholar. There's still a little time to teach them how to use the tools of their trades as weapons, still a little time to give them what equipment we can. Let the common folks who have the will step forward to defend their city against the monster that kept us in ignorance for centuries and forced us to forget our best and brightest.
Written By Khanne
Jan. 14, 2024, 6:42 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Titus
I write all day; messenger after messenger; submitting my thoughts to the journals for Vellichor's strength.
I have meetings and talks, asking what-ifs, and conceptualizing ideas that may just be crazy enough to work. I work with others to create Plan A, B, C... as many as are needed.
I feel like a human dust devil, spinning and spinning so I can face as many directions at once...
... then I pause a moment to scan the whites and see your words.
My Titus,
All at once, I am centered. I am focused. You leave me speechless, but feeling strong, proud of everything I have built, we are building, all of Arvum has built and will keep building. You remind me to focus on the one thing I shall never let go of.
Hope.
I will stand, as you say - with courage, determination, unyielding resolve, and with honor. I will stand not to preserve my own life, but to protect the future for all of us and for those future generations to know our stories.
I will stand with you beside me even if we are not in the same place.
I will stand.
TO THE LAST!
I have meetings and talks, asking what-ifs, and conceptualizing ideas that may just be crazy enough to work. I work with others to create Plan A, B, C... as many as are needed.
I feel like a human dust devil, spinning and spinning so I can face as many directions at once...
... then I pause a moment to scan the whites and see your words.
My Titus,
All at once, I am centered. I am focused. You leave me speechless, but feeling strong, proud of everything I have built, we are building, all of Arvum has built and will keep building. You remind me to focus on the one thing I shall never let go of.
Hope.
I will stand, as you say - with courage, determination, unyielding resolve, and with honor. I will stand not to preserve my own life, but to protect the future for all of us and for those future generations to know our stories.
I will stand with you beside me even if we are not in the same place.
I will stand.
TO THE LAST!
Written By Thea
Jan. 14, 2024, 6:33 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
There are some days where I feel like I haven't accomplished everything I've wanted, but then I look at what I HAVE done and well...
I've done so much. I need to learn not to rush. That's always been a fault of mine, to want to get things done quickly. But the best things take time, and I know that.
I've done so much. I need to learn not to rush. That's always been a fault of mine, to want to get things done quickly. But the best things take time, and I know that.
Written By Amari
Jan. 14, 2024, 3:58 p.m.(7/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Mabelle
I am overjoyed that you've secured a goodly marriage to a proper Oathlander of a reputable house. I know you will make a splash as Marquessa Mabelle Harthall, and this union will bring unimaginable prosperity to Fair Harbour. The wedding too, will be spectacularly and fittingly grandiose. I'm looking forward to it.
Now it would be terribly selfish of me to say all that, and yet still wish that you'd not leave your present home and House. So I'll not do it, even if it is strange to imagine you as residing elsewhere, and no longer answering to the name, Lady Mabelle Laurent. Everything is changing!
So my friend, please try not to set fire to anything in your new home on the islands, and may the gods bless you and House Harthall.
Now it would be terribly selfish of me to say all that, and yet still wish that you'd not leave your present home and House. So I'll not do it, even if it is strange to imagine you as residing elsewhere, and no longer answering to the name, Lady Mabelle Laurent. Everything is changing!
So my friend, please try not to set fire to anything in your new home on the islands, and may the gods bless you and House Harthall.
Written By Mabelle
Jan. 14, 2024, 1:18 a.m.(7/19/1021 AR)
Everything feels rushed.
A lot to accomplish, things to hide, to preserve, to protect.
Leave a mark. Make sure you are remembered.
I regret nothing.
A lot to accomplish, things to hide, to preserve, to protect.
Leave a mark. Make sure you are remembered.
I regret nothing.
Written By Lisebet
Jan. 14, 2024, 12:27 a.m.(7/19/1021 AR)
I find myself reflecting on things, as I look at my children playing. The choices made and not made. I hope that they will have the opportunity to one day make such choices for themselves. And so, there are things to be done, more choices to make.
Gladly.
Freely.
Despite the fear and worry.
Or maybe because of them.
Gladly.
Freely.
Despite the fear and worry.
Or maybe because of them.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 13, 2024, 11 p.m.(7/19/1021 AR)
This story is incomplete, with some parts yet uncovered and others yet to come, but it is as complete as I can make it without taking from others what is not mine to give.
Many, many years ago, there was a woman named Livia. She had a Cardian father, but she grew up with her mother's people - fire khati. She was, I believe, happy. For a time. As so many others have, Livia found her life turned upside down and inside out by war. She lost nearly everything - her home and her husband included - when conflict raged between groups of fire khati. She tried to fight, she tried to save her people, but in the end? There was a terrible choice to make: Stay and die or run and live.
Livia was pregnant - twin boys, she would come to find out, something she could only learn by fleeing. But before she could meet her sons, she met Cynara. I don't fully know how Livia came to be standing in that field, those memories are lost to me. I don't fully know how Cynara came to be there, either - some vagaries of the Dream and magic and the Queen's weaving of souls surely all come together in this. But the unexpected pair did find themselves both in this field at the same time, both bearing broken hearts and carrying the weight of devastating losses. These women, so alike and so different, made world-changing promises to one another.
And Livia became the first Livy, the progenitor of that family line in Cardia. She birthed her sons. Her sons started families. And so on and so on, through the generations, until now. Many of you know the Livy name because of Petraea. Her choice, when having to choose, was to stay and die. It might sound crass when I say it like that, but few things inspire more grief in me than that choice.
I never actually met Petraea, not really. This is one of my deepest regrets. The first time I ever saw her, I bristled. She stood before a meeting of Lycenes to discuss the embassy of the Scales now found in our ward. Fear and anger filled me. How could we dare accept such a thing?
Ignorance robbed me of something I can never know but might have been truly beautiful.
You see, I had no interest in knowing any Cardians. The idea of sitting in a room with one felt like a death sentence. It's hard to know who can be trusted when your entire family is marked for death. This, too, is another thing I don't know: Why has the king of the Skylords declared that Saik should be eradicated?
I did not trust her. I did not trust the overtures of alliance. Years passed, and I avoided her.
The last time I saw her, she was running forward on the field of battle outside of Arx when Helena Thornweave brought the Metallic Traitor's fight to us. Even toward the back, coordinating the medics, I could feel the heat of the towering inferno she had created to thin the enemy numbers. When she collapsed in the end, I found myself running to her side, kneeling down to see if there was anything to be done. She wasn't dead, not yet, but a sacrifice is a sacrifice. I watched as she crumbled. I bore her ash home on my armor.
Whomever you are reading this, I suspect you are wondering why I ran to her side. The answer is Livia. Or Cynara. Or me. All three, I suppose. Women shaped by tragedy, bearing fire within our very beings, connected by our souls across the bounds of time.
My first hint of this connection came while in the market one day. I was admiring some jewelry when a uniquely gorgeous woman caught my eye. One moment, I was aware of how very red her hair was, and the next I was on the back of a dragon, soaring through the air and feeling more free than I have ever felt, even with the sounds of battle around me. When that feeling cleared, the woman was gone. But I couldn't shake the sense that I needed to find her again.
The hunt for information gave me a name, and a tentatively written letter produced a confirmation. A few more letters, and I found myself forcefully chipping away at the distrust and unease that had built up around me over time, trying to gain insight into what was happening. I knew, somehow, these women were woven into the fabric of my life. And so, I had wanted to save Petraea when I saw her flames go out.
I learned the truth at Petraea's memorial. Cynara and I had not seen each other since the market. My steps faltered - not for fear but for heartache. Still, I stood before the crowd and spoke, acknowledging that I had been unjust, that I had regrets. And then I was in a field. Some other time. Some other place. Some other person. Lost and pregnant and facing a red dragon. With a blink, I was back at the memorial. Everything had shattered within me. When I finally had gathered myself to leave, Cynara caught me by the arm, and everyone there learned the same: I was the first Livy.
We face impossible things. And I find myself thinking about Livia and Petraea a lot. I pray that I am able to strike some balance between them, I pray that I can stay and live.
Many, many years ago, there was a woman named Livia. She had a Cardian father, but she grew up with her mother's people - fire khati. She was, I believe, happy. For a time. As so many others have, Livia found her life turned upside down and inside out by war. She lost nearly everything - her home and her husband included - when conflict raged between groups of fire khati. She tried to fight, she tried to save her people, but in the end? There was a terrible choice to make: Stay and die or run and live.
Livia was pregnant - twin boys, she would come to find out, something she could only learn by fleeing. But before she could meet her sons, she met Cynara. I don't fully know how Livia came to be standing in that field, those memories are lost to me. I don't fully know how Cynara came to be there, either - some vagaries of the Dream and magic and the Queen's weaving of souls surely all come together in this. But the unexpected pair did find themselves both in this field at the same time, both bearing broken hearts and carrying the weight of devastating losses. These women, so alike and so different, made world-changing promises to one another.
And Livia became the first Livy, the progenitor of that family line in Cardia. She birthed her sons. Her sons started families. And so on and so on, through the generations, until now. Many of you know the Livy name because of Petraea. Her choice, when having to choose, was to stay and die. It might sound crass when I say it like that, but few things inspire more grief in me than that choice.
I never actually met Petraea, not really. This is one of my deepest regrets. The first time I ever saw her, I bristled. She stood before a meeting of Lycenes to discuss the embassy of the Scales now found in our ward. Fear and anger filled me. How could we dare accept such a thing?
Ignorance robbed me of something I can never know but might have been truly beautiful.
You see, I had no interest in knowing any Cardians. The idea of sitting in a room with one felt like a death sentence. It's hard to know who can be trusted when your entire family is marked for death. This, too, is another thing I don't know: Why has the king of the Skylords declared that Saik should be eradicated?
I did not trust her. I did not trust the overtures of alliance. Years passed, and I avoided her.
The last time I saw her, she was running forward on the field of battle outside of Arx when Helena Thornweave brought the Metallic Traitor's fight to us. Even toward the back, coordinating the medics, I could feel the heat of the towering inferno she had created to thin the enemy numbers. When she collapsed in the end, I found myself running to her side, kneeling down to see if there was anything to be done. She wasn't dead, not yet, but a sacrifice is a sacrifice. I watched as she crumbled. I bore her ash home on my armor.
Whomever you are reading this, I suspect you are wondering why I ran to her side. The answer is Livia. Or Cynara. Or me. All three, I suppose. Women shaped by tragedy, bearing fire within our very beings, connected by our souls across the bounds of time.
My first hint of this connection came while in the market one day. I was admiring some jewelry when a uniquely gorgeous woman caught my eye. One moment, I was aware of how very red her hair was, and the next I was on the back of a dragon, soaring through the air and feeling more free than I have ever felt, even with the sounds of battle around me. When that feeling cleared, the woman was gone. But I couldn't shake the sense that I needed to find her again.
The hunt for information gave me a name, and a tentatively written letter produced a confirmation. A few more letters, and I found myself forcefully chipping away at the distrust and unease that had built up around me over time, trying to gain insight into what was happening. I knew, somehow, these women were woven into the fabric of my life. And so, I had wanted to save Petraea when I saw her flames go out.
I learned the truth at Petraea's memorial. Cynara and I had not seen each other since the market. My steps faltered - not for fear but for heartache. Still, I stood before the crowd and spoke, acknowledging that I had been unjust, that I had regrets. And then I was in a field. Some other time. Some other place. Some other person. Lost and pregnant and facing a red dragon. With a blink, I was back at the memorial. Everything had shattered within me. When I finally had gathered myself to leave, Cynara caught me by the arm, and everyone there learned the same: I was the first Livy.
We face impossible things. And I find myself thinking about Livia and Petraea a lot. I pray that I am able to strike some balance between them, I pray that I can stay and live.
Written By Mattheu
Jan. 13, 2024, 4:05 p.m.(7/19/1021 AR)
Alleyways
Carriage rides
the abysmal creatures mother warned us of
a soft song to be found throughout the city
Who would have though whiskey would be interesting?
...
Carriage rides
the abysmal creatures mother warned us of
a soft song to be found throughout the city
Who would have though whiskey would be interesting?
...
Written By Calista
Jan. 13, 2024, 10:15 a.m.(7/18/1021 AR)
Preparations have been carefully planned and with the assistance of our staff, guards, and beloved family in Tor, the message has reached our City of Roses. We are ready to fight, to protect, to die for our people. We do not go into this lightly but we understand that for humanity to persevere, sacrifices need to be made. No one wants to make them, however, I know in the moment, when we are facing the most heinous of enemies we have ever faced, we will have heroes rise to the occasion. It will be their names forever memorialized in the Hall of Heroes, in song, and in poetry. Great stories will be told, both written and told. We will not forget this time.
It has been my truest and most absolute pleasure being Duchess of Tor these last seventeen years. I did not enter this position with glee, but I was young and naive then. My brother saw something in me I could not yet see. He did not think twice to consider abdicating his position as Duke to marry then Archduchess Esera Velenosa. They both saw something in me that took me years to see. I will forever be grateful for both of them. I can no longer imagine what it would be like to be anyone other than Calista Fidante, for my family and our people are my life's blood.
I am ever so blessed to have been a part of the reason Tor has flourished into the beautiful and dazzling rose, a diamond rose, it has become. Whatever evils may come to threaten, we will fight them back with our thorns, for roses may be beautiful, but one must always grasp roses with care.
It has been my truest and most absolute pleasure being Duchess of Tor these last seventeen years. I did not enter this position with glee, but I was young and naive then. My brother saw something in me I could not yet see. He did not think twice to consider abdicating his position as Duke to marry then Archduchess Esera Velenosa. They both saw something in me that took me years to see. I will forever be grateful for both of them. I can no longer imagine what it would be like to be anyone other than Calista Fidante, for my family and our people are my life's blood.
I am ever so blessed to have been a part of the reason Tor has flourished into the beautiful and dazzling rose, a diamond rose, it has become. Whatever evils may come to threaten, we will fight them back with our thorns, for roses may be beautiful, but one must always grasp roses with care.
Written By Ann
Jan. 13, 2024, 6:37 a.m.(7/18/1021 AR)
I am not afraid of the future as long as I have my Mattheu by my side.
To my Northern family my heart and spirit are with you.
I lift my glass of whiskey to you all.
To the last.
Choice is what we will always have.
To my Northern family my heart and spirit are with you.
I lift my glass of whiskey to you all.
To the last.
Choice is what we will always have.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.