Written By Delilah
April 24, 2019, 8:58 a.m.(12/23/1010 AR)
Be aware,
Be awareness.
Be aware of deception.
Be wary of assumptions.
Be aware of mysteries.
Be aware of life.
Dream.
Be awareness.
Be aware of deception.
Be wary of assumptions.
Be aware of mysteries.
Be aware of life.
Dream.
Written By Delilah
April 19, 2019, 2:22 p.m.(12/14/1010 AR)
A shadow passed over the sun. It will be a viciously cold winter.
The spring is so far away, it may seem to never come.
The spring is so far away, it may seem to never come.
Written By Delilah
April 16, 2019, 3:53 p.m.(12/8/1010 AR)
It's ever impressive to watch a Thraxian princess attack a threat with her shoe. It was a valiant approach by that heel.
Though I cannot say how grateful I am for Rowenova acting quickly and Messire Ajax following suit.
Though I cannot say how grateful I am for Rowenova acting quickly and Messire Ajax following suit.
Written By Delilah
April 16, 2019, 9:12 a.m.(12/7/1010 AR)
The paper is soft and light under my hands. I have only copied it from draft six or seven times now. The ink leaps in vivid black lines off the creamy vellum, reshaping a dream too fragile to be real. Yet every line here commits to devising a truth, one so fresh that the resonant scent of oak gall still lifts off the page.
It's a beginning and a start to greater plans. The first chapter in long annals that I hope will outlast me, something that shall leave a quiet remark upon the landscape in the years to come. Everything begins like planting an acorn in the ground, a seed in the garden, and nurturing it to fruition. It won't grow overnight, but grow it shall.
That's certainly something to raise a glass to.
It's a beginning and a start to greater plans. The first chapter in long annals that I hope will outlast me, something that shall leave a quiet remark upon the landscape in the years to come. Everything begins like planting an acorn in the ground, a seed in the garden, and nurturing it to fruition. It won't grow overnight, but grow it shall.
That's certainly something to raise a glass to.
Written By Delilah
April 9, 2019, 10:51 a.m.(11/21/1010 AR)
Autumn is a time to reflect, the solitude of the season beckoning for contemplation.
Yet as thoughts go inward, it behooves us to reach out and link with other like or open minds, and speak, Ideas can grow in the harvest season, reaping great rewards.
Yet as thoughts go inward, it behooves us to reach out and link with other like or open minds, and speak, Ideas can grow in the harvest season, reaping great rewards.
Written By Delilah
April 4, 2019, 9:31 p.m.(11/12/1010 AR)
One by one upon white shores,
The pearly waves are laid;
Each one a new and pristine thing,
Which Mangata made.
Forth from a cauldron ever old,
They swell, forever young;
The softest, dreamy chords
Of the hymn the deep sea sung.
The surge echoes in whispers,
I listen endlessly;
Always, my soul shall resonate
With an aquatic melody.
1010
The pearly waves are laid;
Each one a new and pristine thing,
Which Mangata made.
Forth from a cauldron ever old,
They swell, forever young;
The softest, dreamy chords
Of the hymn the deep sea sung.
The surge echoes in whispers,
I listen endlessly;
Always, my soul shall resonate
With an aquatic melody.
1010
Written By Delilah
April 1, 2019, 10:39 p.m.(11/6/1010 AR)
I am a solitary mote in the wine-dark sea: little do I last and the night is enormous.
But I look up: the stars write.
Unknowing I understand: I too am written, and at this very moment someone spells me out.
Mine is an invocation of starlight and moonfire.
But I look up: the stars write.
Unknowing I understand: I too am written, and at this very moment someone spells me out.
Mine is an invocation of starlight and moonfire.
Written By Delilah
March 28, 2019, 4:27 p.m.(10/26/1010 AR)
I should not feel guilty leaving behind my paperwork for a tea party, but all in all, it was a delight to get away from the regular routine for Lady Kaia's fete.
These teacups are utterly charming and I cannot help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Not that work ever ceases to wait. But I have a warm heart to confront it with, and Gild bless all those who make the path a little easier.
These teacups are utterly charming and I cannot help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Not that work ever ceases to wait. But I have a warm heart to confront it with, and Gild bless all those who make the path a little easier.
Written By Delilah
March 21, 2019, 8:53 a.m.(10/11/1010 AR)
Poets are all who love, who feel great truths,
And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
And tell them; and the truth of truths is love.
Written By Delilah
March 16, 2019, 7:09 p.m.(10/2/1010 AR)
Tonight I fell asleep in a library. One of rich, unexpected breadth of contents. I knew then my soul had found its haven.
Written By Delilah
March 15, 2019, 12:57 p.m.(9/28/1010 AR)
There is a jewel I yearn to wear,
But not until first set by you,
Starlight, a celestial treasure rare,
Seek it, and weave enough for two.
But not until first set by you,
Starlight, a celestial treasure rare,
Seek it, and weave enough for two.
Written By Delilah
March 6, 2019, 8:59 a.m.(9/9/1010 AR)
The Lasting Hope Observatory is open and dedicated, albeit at the denouement of the summer rather than the start as intended. Only appropriate given the events of 1010 provide reason to judiciously save the star-viewing parties for the right moment. We had a perfect, almost moonless night and the opportunity for people to look upwards to the sky and admire the stars or their earthbound peers.
Perchance, next time I will arrange a few more social activities, though it pleases me to know the Halfshavs came out en masse, and not a small number of Mourning Islanders, too. Hearing the conversations 'round me, while trying to keep events moving swiftly, I am delighted to know there remains a degree of normalcy to society regardless of what hurdles we face or thrilling advances we enjoy.
If this is a sign of things to come, I best make sure I have more prizes for events. In both the Star Hunt and the celestial archery, we ended up having ties. A four-way tie for second place in something I thought might be dramatically one way -- successful -- or the other -- not at all. The teams turned out fantastically, though Sir Jeffeth has rightly earned himself a special category in nearly all my social soirees, which is the "Jeffeth Challenge" or thereabouts. It's on par with Princess Reese or Prince Luca in a martial combat. There are regular targets, and then this one over here meant to be a challenge even for them. Master Harlex falls into that camp as well. Nonetheless, after taking down the silk veils and sweeping up the glitter, rolling up the tapestry mural, and admitting myself bone-tired...
All went well as I could have hoped. I thank everyone who made the opening a memorable one, and the next events are likely to be closer to autumn's end with a mind for building and developing understanding.
Perchance, next time I will arrange a few more social activities, though it pleases me to know the Halfshavs came out en masse, and not a small number of Mourning Islanders, too. Hearing the conversations 'round me, while trying to keep events moving swiftly, I am delighted to know there remains a degree of normalcy to society regardless of what hurdles we face or thrilling advances we enjoy.
If this is a sign of things to come, I best make sure I have more prizes for events. In both the Star Hunt and the celestial archery, we ended up having ties. A four-way tie for second place in something I thought might be dramatically one way -- successful -- or the other -- not at all. The teams turned out fantastically, though Sir Jeffeth has rightly earned himself a special category in nearly all my social soirees, which is the "Jeffeth Challenge" or thereabouts. It's on par with Princess Reese or Prince Luca in a martial combat. There are regular targets, and then this one over here meant to be a challenge even for them. Master Harlex falls into that camp as well. Nonetheless, after taking down the silk veils and sweeping up the glitter, rolling up the tapestry mural, and admitting myself bone-tired...
All went well as I could have hoped. I thank everyone who made the opening a memorable one, and the next events are likely to be closer to autumn's end with a mind for building and developing understanding.
Written By Delilah
March 4, 2019, 3:15 p.m.(9/6/1010 AR)
You blazon me with a jeweled rhapsody,
A blazing galaxy
Limns the waning hour. Yet
You set
A light wrapping me in folds
Of antique golds.
Written By Delilah
March 1, 2019, 10:10 a.m.(8/28/1010 AR)
For the first time in my life, at least in my adult life, I've been able to make a meaningful contribution after scrimping, saving, shaking out cushions, and converting silver to something or another.
I will not miss a single coin. It goes to something so much greater than I am.
I will not miss a single coin. It goes to something so much greater than I am.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 20, 2019, 9:12 a.m.(8/9/1010 AR)
I picked up the pen in earnest for the first time the other day. It felt strange to set my hand back to mapping out shapes of incomplete isles and find the holes of our history laid out there. Nothing great, I fear, that would reconstitute the understanding of the Compact since the Reckoning. But a small piece, all the same, that could lead to greater exploration.
Good thing my boots are ready to go.
Good thing my boots are ready to go.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 19, 2019, 9:41 a.m.(8/8/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Evonleigh
I sit here as dawn cavorts
Among the blossoms,
The lamplights above winking out
Day's perfume on the air.
I think of maps,
The shape of distant shores
Where we journey is unknown,
Courting a
Mystery, an antidote to standing still.
Beginnings are an exhilarating communion.
We walk these paths,
Tracing one another's steps
In a dance.
I embrace today with open arms
Direction found in
Your golden confidence and light.
The first step from a place
Familiar and unknown,
I will carry your light with me
Today beckons.
Among the blossoms,
The lamplights above winking out
Day's perfume on the air.
I think of maps,
The shape of distant shores
Where we journey is unknown,
Courting a
Mystery, an antidote to standing still.
Beginnings are an exhilarating communion.
We walk these paths,
Tracing one another's steps
In a dance.
I embrace today with open arms
Direction found in
Your golden confidence and light.
The first step from a place
Familiar and unknown,
I will carry your light with me
Today beckons.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 15, 2019, 10:02 a.m.(7/28/1010 AR)
Petal makes the most amazing pies. I am starving. Let it be known forever more that she's not only good at making clothes, but food to stain your clothes. If only aeterna shifts weren't so expensive!
Written By Delilah
Feb. 13, 2019, 7:12 p.m.(7/24/1010 AR)
She's sitting here staring at me with these gorgeous eyes, unfathoable to the likes of men or women. Some have that rare gift, an incisive, penetrating look that remains opaque the other way.
Her nose remains up, a mild hint of contempt. I have no notion what I did to earn that. Say the wrong thing in company? Neglect her response to reply to another, or contemplate a matter too long while she expected me to be at her beck and call?
Perhaps I shall never know. Some sins remain a mark against us without any proof whatsoever of their cause.
I know of one Oathlands feud that lasted five generations. None after the second recalled the reason even dimly. Blood and silver spent to continue its wrath long after the original parties perished to time. The malaise matters not, only the outcome. Consequences be damned, pay for the cutting remark or the failed act.
She will outlive us all and the descendents in a glittering city will be forced to contend with the ageless glare, discriminating perception turned on all our faults. I feel such sorrow for those short-lived creatures forced to fall beneath this weary judgment. No wonder the burden of ages is poorly settled on human shoulders. We should have learned.
Will it be remonstration for a failure to understand or irritation with my futile comprehension of weighty topics so far beyond my ken, a subject to which I am a mere initiate? Fumbling against the blind shadow weighing me down, I can only attempt to gain insight, scrambling with imperfect gestures and incomplete plans that fall to ashes at my feet when she reveals her utmost dismay for my imperfections.
Lilybelle must have taught her too well how to hold the Dream in disdain, and bend us to her will. And I have no choice but to heed her until I, too, finally leave this apprenticeship and fledge myself in a strange new world rife with talents heretofore unknown.
Abide by the will of the Pearl of Thrax.
Her nose remains up, a mild hint of contempt. I have no notion what I did to earn that. Say the wrong thing in company? Neglect her response to reply to another, or contemplate a matter too long while she expected me to be at her beck and call?
Perhaps I shall never know. Some sins remain a mark against us without any proof whatsoever of their cause.
I know of one Oathlands feud that lasted five generations. None after the second recalled the reason even dimly. Blood and silver spent to continue its wrath long after the original parties perished to time. The malaise matters not, only the outcome. Consequences be damned, pay for the cutting remark or the failed act.
She will outlive us all and the descendents in a glittering city will be forced to contend with the ageless glare, discriminating perception turned on all our faults. I feel such sorrow for those short-lived creatures forced to fall beneath this weary judgment. No wonder the burden of ages is poorly settled on human shoulders. We should have learned.
Will it be remonstration for a failure to understand or irritation with my futile comprehension of weighty topics so far beyond my ken, a subject to which I am a mere initiate? Fumbling against the blind shadow weighing me down, I can only attempt to gain insight, scrambling with imperfect gestures and incomplete plans that fall to ashes at my feet when she reveals her utmost dismay for my imperfections.
Lilybelle must have taught her too well how to hold the Dream in disdain, and bend us to her will. And I have no choice but to heed her until I, too, finally leave this apprenticeship and fledge myself in a strange new world rife with talents heretofore unknown.
Abide by the will of the Pearl of Thrax.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 11, 2019, 4:19 p.m.(7/20/1010 AR)
When the walls stand too high, turn your back to them. Look up instead for the sky, tracing the light and shadows back to their source. I had no direction to guide me when I cast down my compass.
Then a door opened in the forest for me, and led me home by way of a path I had barely known how to take.
Then a door opened in the forest for me, and led me home by way of a path I had barely known how to take.
Written By Delilah
Feb. 11, 2019, 12:33 a.m.(7/19/1010 AR)
I wasn't aware I was the object of matchmaking. I wonder if this constitutes a need for a torch, a lantern, or ownership of the bloody lighthouse.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.