Written By Bianca
Nov. 9, 2017, 2:01 p.m.(7/20/1007 AR)
7/20/1007 AR:
I have spent much time as of late ruminating. It's becoming one of my primary hobbies given the last year in study and there is quite an array of topics to ruminate on.
The topic for today is the stories of life.
"Let the most studious amongst you take sacred vow to forever guard the knowledge of the world, and allow all among you from the greatest to the least to chronicle their lives in journals so their knowledge may never be lost. Guard it well."
Many of us know that particular line; it is said to be spoken by Vellichor himself when he appeared to mankind during the darkest days of the Reckoning ("The Canticle of Vellichor"). It's impact is greater for some than others, particularly the first bit in relation to those of us who have chosen our role in service to the Archives, but the latter portion of the sentence I feel is often overlooked.
It is near daily I hear of someone unwilling to write within their White Journal out of fear of ridicule or sense of their own personal trials and thoughts being insignificant in comparison to the events occurring around them. The same can be said for the Blacks out of fear that these inner secrets and thoughts may actually be read by someone though with that the fear is not always of a "someone," but instead a "something." Understandable but tragic nonetheless.
For me, my lack of writing in the Whites was my personal insecurities of insignificance and it has taken me the entirety of a year to come to terms that /no one's/ story is insignificant and /everyone/ at one time or another has felt some level of the same. Tome after tome I saw in little scribbles the tell-tales of insecurity and yet the breadth of the pages told such beautifully intricate tales that wove flawlessly with one journal after another. One great and eternal story that we are all so blessed to be a part of with each spin of the Wheel.
I believe this is one of the most poignant gifts Vellichor has blessed us with. He gave us a way to actively see our role in the world. A way to know that we are part of something so much greater than ourselves. He gave us proof of it in each journal. Every story. Every truth.
To see ourselves within the great tapestry of history holds its own level of comfort. Our insignificance as individuals is a lie. We are (each and every last one of us) an intricate part of the great and secret show we call life. Each one of us influences change and the development of our race and those lives that were lived before us now provide us with insight into not only pinnacle events, but also the deeper and more obtuse emotional mein of man.
Even the greatest paladin felt as we feel now. All of us have fears. All of us have hopes. We are all individuals and yet are united in our emotional sphere.
I hope that my words will someday sing to someone looking for a connection, be it today or a thousand years from now. That it will encourage someone to shake free of the shackles of insecurity and understand that their words have meaning and their experiences have power. They are important. /You/ are important.
In hopes of encouraging further in-depth documentation of the history of our world, I pose to those of the Compact this: Any event you may participate in, any opinion you may have, any personal discovery you may make or hardship you face... write your story and know that your part, your perspective, may shape the direction of our future no matter how miniscule the notation.
For those who lack the capability to write your tales by your own hand, seek out a Scholar of Vellichor to be your pen. Do not be forgotten.
For those who prefer privacy, write in your Blacks... or if you fear your words still may be seen there, seek me for confession. To alleviate any concerns of discretion, I am bound by the same oaths as all of the discipleship of Vellichor. Should I share word of a Black Journal or breath whisper of confession, may my writing hand be severed and my tongue cut out. Do not be afraid to seek me out to confide in no matter the circumstance or story.
I, Bianca, solemnly swear to the Compact as the Archscholar of Vellichor and Magister of the Vellichorian Academy, in receiving confession no judgment shall be passed and no secrets will be broken.
It is my duty to not only protect our history, but to document it as well so that it is remembered throughout the ages and we never again fall to the influences of those who wish to mar our understanding of our history.
...but the above burden does not fall on my shoulders alone. It is up to all of us, no matter caste, political inclination, age or even religious leanings to protect who we are and who we will become.
"... allow all among you from the greatest to the least to chronicle their lives in journals so their knowledge may never be lost. Guard it well."
May his words ring true in the hearts of all men.
I have spent much time as of late ruminating. It's becoming one of my primary hobbies given the last year in study and there is quite an array of topics to ruminate on.
The topic for today is the stories of life.
"Let the most studious amongst you take sacred vow to forever guard the knowledge of the world, and allow all among you from the greatest to the least to chronicle their lives in journals so their knowledge may never be lost. Guard it well."
Many of us know that particular line; it is said to be spoken by Vellichor himself when he appeared to mankind during the darkest days of the Reckoning ("The Canticle of Vellichor"). It's impact is greater for some than others, particularly the first bit in relation to those of us who have chosen our role in service to the Archives, but the latter portion of the sentence I feel is often overlooked.
It is near daily I hear of someone unwilling to write within their White Journal out of fear of ridicule or sense of their own personal trials and thoughts being insignificant in comparison to the events occurring around them. The same can be said for the Blacks out of fear that these inner secrets and thoughts may actually be read by someone though with that the fear is not always of a "someone," but instead a "something." Understandable but tragic nonetheless.
For me, my lack of writing in the Whites was my personal insecurities of insignificance and it has taken me the entirety of a year to come to terms that /no one's/ story is insignificant and /everyone/ at one time or another has felt some level of the same. Tome after tome I saw in little scribbles the tell-tales of insecurity and yet the breadth of the pages told such beautifully intricate tales that wove flawlessly with one journal after another. One great and eternal story that we are all so blessed to be a part of with each spin of the Wheel.
I believe this is one of the most poignant gifts Vellichor has blessed us with. He gave us a way to actively see our role in the world. A way to know that we are part of something so much greater than ourselves. He gave us proof of it in each journal. Every story. Every truth.
To see ourselves within the great tapestry of history holds its own level of comfort. Our insignificance as individuals is a lie. We are (each and every last one of us) an intricate part of the great and secret show we call life. Each one of us influences change and the development of our race and those lives that were lived before us now provide us with insight into not only pinnacle events, but also the deeper and more obtuse emotional mein of man.
Even the greatest paladin felt as we feel now. All of us have fears. All of us have hopes. We are all individuals and yet are united in our emotional sphere.
I hope that my words will someday sing to someone looking for a connection, be it today or a thousand years from now. That it will encourage someone to shake free of the shackles of insecurity and understand that their words have meaning and their experiences have power. They are important. /You/ are important.
In hopes of encouraging further in-depth documentation of the history of our world, I pose to those of the Compact this: Any event you may participate in, any opinion you may have, any personal discovery you may make or hardship you face... write your story and know that your part, your perspective, may shape the direction of our future no matter how miniscule the notation.
For those who lack the capability to write your tales by your own hand, seek out a Scholar of Vellichor to be your pen. Do not be forgotten.
For those who prefer privacy, write in your Blacks... or if you fear your words still may be seen there, seek me for confession. To alleviate any concerns of discretion, I am bound by the same oaths as all of the discipleship of Vellichor. Should I share word of a Black Journal or breath whisper of confession, may my writing hand be severed and my tongue cut out. Do not be afraid to seek me out to confide in no matter the circumstance or story.
I, Bianca, solemnly swear to the Compact as the Archscholar of Vellichor and Magister of the Vellichorian Academy, in receiving confession no judgment shall be passed and no secrets will be broken.
It is my duty to not only protect our history, but to document it as well so that it is remembered throughout the ages and we never again fall to the influences of those who wish to mar our understanding of our history.
...but the above burden does not fall on my shoulders alone. It is up to all of us, no matter caste, political inclination, age or even religious leanings to protect who we are and who we will become.
"... allow all among you from the greatest to the least to chronicle their lives in journals so their knowledge may never be lost. Guard it well."
May his words ring true in the hearts of all men.
Written By Bianca
Feb. 24, 2017, 1:53 p.m.(12/24/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Damon
I could really use your levity. I miss you.
Written By Bianca
Jan. 30, 2017, 3:54 a.m.(10/18/1005 AR)
I want to have faith in man, but as every day passes I find that evil that we whisper of as influence of the demonic isn't influence at all. That evil seems to reside within us naturally and it is not the demonic that calls it into being, but instead simply pulls the string of the selfish and near-sighted to bring it to the fore. Ego commands us.
Perhaps that in it of itself is the reflection. Our darkness staring back at us and waiting for its hopeful (or inevitable) release.
Or... perhaps this moment of introspection is just a side effect of a crisis of faith in a more general sense. It's difficult to tell these days. Even my beliefs are no longer sacred, just more twisted truths based on the ego of man and manipulated by something still well beyond our common understanding.
Tomorrow I will wake up and I will pray.
I will eat and then I will pray.
I will study and I will pray.
In all things prayer has become a constant.
Is it the ritual that comforts me or is it still an unwavering belief that someone is listening? That something will pull forth the beauty, hope and joy that is being human again so that the tug of war of the spirit remains balanced?
I want to believe, but how many more of us must fall to death or darkness before our gods stop standing idle?
There's a sickness in this city. A poison. I'm not the only one that's felt it, but I'm helpless to purge it. I am helpless to do anything, but read my books and hope that I pass on the right information to the right person at the right time.
That's what I pray for now. Not that I will have the strength to overcome the impossible, but that I will have the insight to help others on their own journeys of overcoming the impossible.
Anyone no matter caste or general standing has the potential to be a hero as much as they have the potential to be a villain. If the gods won't pull us back from the precipice of destruction and corruption, then we must pull ourselves. We must reach with open eyes, hearts and minds from the lowest to the highest and stand together as one before our egos divide us any further and we fall to the grips of damnation.
Perhaps that in it of itself is the reflection. Our darkness staring back at us and waiting for its hopeful (or inevitable) release.
Or... perhaps this moment of introspection is just a side effect of a crisis of faith in a more general sense. It's difficult to tell these days. Even my beliefs are no longer sacred, just more twisted truths based on the ego of man and manipulated by something still well beyond our common understanding.
Tomorrow I will wake up and I will pray.
I will eat and then I will pray.
I will study and I will pray.
In all things prayer has become a constant.
Is it the ritual that comforts me or is it still an unwavering belief that someone is listening? That something will pull forth the beauty, hope and joy that is being human again so that the tug of war of the spirit remains balanced?
I want to believe, but how many more of us must fall to death or darkness before our gods stop standing idle?
There's a sickness in this city. A poison. I'm not the only one that's felt it, but I'm helpless to purge it. I am helpless to do anything, but read my books and hope that I pass on the right information to the right person at the right time.
That's what I pray for now. Not that I will have the strength to overcome the impossible, but that I will have the insight to help others on their own journeys of overcoming the impossible.
Anyone no matter caste or general standing has the potential to be a hero as much as they have the potential to be a villain. If the gods won't pull us back from the precipice of destruction and corruption, then we must pull ourselves. We must reach with open eyes, hearts and minds from the lowest to the highest and stand together as one before our egos divide us any further and we fall to the grips of damnation.
Written By Bianca
Jan. 20, 2017, 2:37 a.m.(9/16/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Merek
An interesting young man. Humble and inquisitive. I look forward to future conversations.
Written By Bianca
Jan. 9, 2017, 2:12 p.m.(8/13/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Damon
Mistakes are avenues of growth. I love you no less.
Written By Bianca
Jan. 9, 2017, 1:53 p.m.(8/13/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Damon
Mistakes are avenues of growth. I love you no less.
Written By Bianca
Jan. 3, 2017, 3:15 p.m.(7/23/1005 AR)
I don't know why I expected my second trial to be more difficult than the first. I suppose my mind hadn't wrapped around the full breadth of my task. Again the analytical superseded the emotional.
Remaining in company of the Silent Reflections could be best described as tragic and while I prefer tragedy in fiction, when faced with it in reality... it is overwhelming.
There was one man in particular that played at my heart strings. For the most part my presence has gone ignored beyond from time to time aiding someone with a drink or food, but there was one man in particular. I don't even know his name, he can not tell me. After much miscommunication I finally figured out that all he wanted was to read my book with me. It was such a small and simple thing that I take for granted daily.
This is what the Archscholar meant when he said he wanted me to understand the breadth of betrayal, I believe. Still, though I know they committed an atrocity in breaking their oath I can't help but feel compassion.
Only a few days left.
Remaining in company of the Silent Reflections could be best described as tragic and while I prefer tragedy in fiction, when faced with it in reality... it is overwhelming.
There was one man in particular that played at my heart strings. For the most part my presence has gone ignored beyond from time to time aiding someone with a drink or food, but there was one man in particular. I don't even know his name, he can not tell me. After much miscommunication I finally figured out that all he wanted was to read my book with me. It was such a small and simple thing that I take for granted daily.
This is what the Archscholar meant when he said he wanted me to understand the breadth of betrayal, I believe. Still, though I know they committed an atrocity in breaking their oath I can't help but feel compassion.
Only a few days left.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.