Written By Aurelia
Oct. 25, 2018, 3:02 a.m.(11/14/1009 AR)
I can't recall any of the journals that I wrote when I was a girl, nor can I find them among the archives. Are they all black? Such a strange thing to think that my own childhood has been lost to me. My teen years, of course, were spent on a sand-shielded pebble among the distant seas, beyond the Compact's influence, and too far for the servants of Vellichor to archive my thoughts.
Reading through these journals, I can't help but wonder if people truly understand what that's like. The white journals are a sacred rite. They are a communion between past, present, and future. We pour ourselves into the pages so that our legacy, for good or ill, may be preserved for others to read. With luck and wisdom they may learn of the times we lived in, and who we were.
What would they say of us if our journals stopped this very day? What kind of people would they envision us to be? I do wonder. Perhaps some of us could use a vacation far away from the Compact to remember just how precious a luxury these archives are.
Reading through these journals, I can't help but wonder if people truly understand what that's like. The white journals are a sacred rite. They are a communion between past, present, and future. We pour ourselves into the pages so that our legacy, for good or ill, may be preserved for others to read. With luck and wisdom they may learn of the times we lived in, and who we were.
What would they say of us if our journals stopped this very day? What kind of people would they envision us to be? I do wonder. Perhaps some of us could use a vacation far away from the Compact to remember just how precious a luxury these archives are.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.