Written By Medeia
Feb. 1, 2024, 9:44 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
I have renounced my claim to noble title, though I remain in service to my family and the people of Saikland. I am just Medeia Saik.
I imagine this decision is likely to shock many, but I would be lying if I said that the thought had not occurred to me on other occasions. In truth, this is a decision a long time in the making.
I will not challenge Estie's place as baroness when she comes of age, nor Lucita's role as baroness-regent. My support for both comes from a place of love, not obligation. I am able to continue everything I have done for my family and my people to this point without being within the line of possible succession. I love them all enough to ensure there is no question.
But I also am making this decision because I was asked by the man I love to join him. I did not have to say yes. We could have been content with promises. I could give him this, though. He has asked so little of me and given me so much. Home. When I am with him, that is where I am. When I am away from him, that is where I want to return. We deserve the happiness we have found and make for ourselves.
My children are safe. And they remain within the agreements between Saik and Esywnd until they are of age and may choose their own paths.
I imagine this decision is likely to shock many, but I would be lying if I said that the thought had not occurred to me on other occasions. In truth, this is a decision a long time in the making.
I will not challenge Estie's place as baroness when she comes of age, nor Lucita's role as baroness-regent. My support for both comes from a place of love, not obligation. I am able to continue everything I have done for my family and my people to this point without being within the line of possible succession. I love them all enough to ensure there is no question.
But I also am making this decision because I was asked by the man I love to join him. I did not have to say yes. We could have been content with promises. I could give him this, though. He has asked so little of me and given me so much. Home. When I am with him, that is where I am. When I am away from him, that is where I want to return. We deserve the happiness we have found and make for ourselves.
My children are safe. And they remain within the agreements between Saik and Esywnd until they are of age and may choose their own paths.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 31, 2024, 8:52 a.m.(8/26/1021 AR)
It might have been silly to think we could enjoy an evening amid the darkness, but I think many of us learned something valuable while we made our foolish gamble.
I, for one, learned that Azazel has all the fragility of a toddler being told they must away to bed.
Who knew that insisting on using the door and sitting with proper posture could so enrage a being? Oh, he focused his many maws upon me and screamed at me, but I have four children! I will not tolerate petulant screaming just because you're not getting your way.
I, for one, learned that Azazel has all the fragility of a toddler being told they must away to bed.
Who knew that insisting on using the door and sitting with proper posture could so enrage a being? Oh, he focused his many maws upon me and screamed at me, but I have four children! I will not tolerate petulant screaming just because you're not getting your way.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 31, 2024, 8:30 a.m.(8/26/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Lianne
I didn't want to commit this to parchment before I had a chance to tell her to her face. I finally had that chance.
We walk different paths. But the paths we walk are within the same world, and sometimes they cross and we have opportunities to be reminded of our shared interests and purposes. We may not always be aligned, but there is a reason I accepted her offer of patronage without a second thought: I trust her.
If you believe you can attribute a life saved to me, there is a strong chance that I, in turn, can place some credit at Lianne's feet. This goes all the way back, at least, to when Skal'dajans threatened the Compact. I had a question tickling my mind. All I could do with it was ask it! It was Lianne who heard it, who had the means of turning that question into something usable. If not for her and her collaborators, a group of us wouldn't have been able to empower the rune that went to Pieros and saved lives by making their magic exact a heavy price and effectively taking it from them.
It has always been thus: My questions are encouraged and ideas are honed. While she bestows words like "genius" upon me, I tell you that this genius does not happen alone. It happens because I have had people - including Lianne - supporting it.
I have been her midwife and her protege, so many of our loved ones are shared between us for wholly different but no less genuine reasons, and I know now what I always knew - which changes nothing about her importance and place in my life.
We walk different paths. But the paths we walk are within the same world, and sometimes they cross and we have opportunities to be reminded of our shared interests and purposes. We may not always be aligned, but there is a reason I accepted her offer of patronage without a second thought: I trust her.
If you believe you can attribute a life saved to me, there is a strong chance that I, in turn, can place some credit at Lianne's feet. This goes all the way back, at least, to when Skal'dajans threatened the Compact. I had a question tickling my mind. All I could do with it was ask it! It was Lianne who heard it, who had the means of turning that question into something usable. If not for her and her collaborators, a group of us wouldn't have been able to empower the rune that went to Pieros and saved lives by making their magic exact a heavy price and effectively taking it from them.
It has always been thus: My questions are encouraged and ideas are honed. While she bestows words like "genius" upon me, I tell you that this genius does not happen alone. It happens because I have had people - including Lianne - supporting it.
I have been her midwife and her protege, so many of our loved ones are shared between us for wholly different but no less genuine reasons, and I know now what I always knew - which changes nothing about her importance and place in my life.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 30, 2024, 12:14 p.m.(8/24/1021 AR)
Serasadin of the Venom. That is her name, the dragon that chose me to bond with so she might come to Arvum's aid. She's a stunning beauty - I've never seen a shade of green quite like hers anywhere, before. It reminds me of the earliest shoots coming up out of the ground in spring and those dangerous-to-touch frogs I saw on trips to the Saffron, with a touch of pearl. I think it may be uniquely hers. She is also quite imposing - each of her talons is nearly the size of me.
We went up for a survey of the damage, any lingering vestiges of Azazel's horde, and I was holding myself together well enough, until we circled over the Upper Boroughs. Some half of the sanctuary is just gone.
Sera and I share an interest in alchemy. I had told her about the sanctuary as we flew for Arvum, about the classes I held there, about the refuge it offered for people and ideas, and about the gardens. My beloved gardens.
She landed in the courtyard and sheltered me with a wing as I sobbed for what I had built. I knew it could happen, I had made the offer to Sir Jeffeth and the defenders to use it as they needed for a reason. But even something given willingly can still hurt upon consequence.
Through the bond we share, I was able to show her the sanctuary in my memory.
Then? The light went all wrong. Again. What little dawn we'd been afforded faded quickly. I am still hopeful that there will be a world left after all this, and that is why I am taking the moment to write this down. I will steal from Azazel this brief moment of memory.
We went up for a survey of the damage, any lingering vestiges of Azazel's horde, and I was holding myself together well enough, until we circled over the Upper Boroughs. Some half of the sanctuary is just gone.
Sera and I share an interest in alchemy. I had told her about the sanctuary as we flew for Arvum, about the classes I held there, about the refuge it offered for people and ideas, and about the gardens. My beloved gardens.
She landed in the courtyard and sheltered me with a wing as I sobbed for what I had built. I knew it could happen, I had made the offer to Sir Jeffeth and the defenders to use it as they needed for a reason. But even something given willingly can still hurt upon consequence.
Through the bond we share, I was able to show her the sanctuary in my memory.
Then? The light went all wrong. Again. What little dawn we'd been afforded faded quickly. I am still hopeful that there will be a world left after all this, and that is why I am taking the moment to write this down. I will steal from Azazel this brief moment of memory.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 30, 2024, 10:55 a.m.(8/24/1021 AR)
I had very little time to warn anyone that I would be away for a while. I'm sorry if my absence worried you. I assure you, I would never have abandoned this city for any amount of time if I hadn't thought the mission necessary. This morning, Arx awakens to more than a dozen new dragons slumbering upon buildings and patrolling the skies. We were successful! And it seems, even if we arrived late, we arrived in time to help.
The mix of emotions I feel is nearly incomprehensible. Seeing the fleet from Nefer'khat arrive in the Bay of Thrax was like seeing dawn - bright and full of promise. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that someone on the ground may have looked up and felt that when seeing us. It's one thing to strive toward the light and attempt to bring it to others, and quite another to realize you've done that. But this is in stark contrast to the horrors witnessed in getting here.
Nothing could have prepared me for seeing the city center overrun. Oh, I had the distinct gut-wrenching misery of seeing smoldering ruins left in the wake of Azazel's hordes on the ways to and from Cardia. This, however? This was more grotesque and cruel than any nightmare I have experienced. I am told I wept through the night when finally I found sleep.
Reports I have suggest our losses are uncountable. Millions and millions of lives lost across the whole of Arvum. There may yet be a scant few cites that stand that were not part of the Compact, but only Lenosia, Ostria, Setarco, Bastion, Sanctum, Artshall, and Farhaven remain outside of Arx. The names that have been added to the lists hit too close, and my heart is simply overwhelmed if I try to think about Duke Hadrian Mazetti or Dame Reese Grayson or Duke Titus Halfshav. There are many others, but each of them held special significance for me.
Especially Titus, as I hear we were just moments too late. Perhaps he wouldn't have done what he did? But that is unfair to me and my fellows. In truth, I suspect that my friend was always going to find this path. He had taken plausible deniability and even ignorance from me, telling me who and what he was. And still, I embraced him as a friend. I couldn't find it in me to shun him for any of it, not when there is a flower in my greenhouse from the earliest days we met, exploring the wilds outside his homeland - I was there as a favor to Calla. He was ever-loyal, always there when the people of Eswynd needed their allies. Titus nearly died protecting me and other people I cared for so many times. My hands stitched him back together so he could keep trying. Getting that arrow out of his face was especially challenging. Learning the truth of someone shouldn't immediately undo all the good they did. It should add another layer to your understanding of them.
More and more reports tell me that plausible deniability is a thing of the past, now. That my own patron was seen in battle beside - well, I won't write that name. The attention seems imprudent to draw, and it is information I have gained only in a report.
Of all the surprises, mostly bad, that have come from this situation, I can lay to rest one rumor: My cousin Kima is alive. She returned with us from Cardia. That is about all I can tell of that - it's hard to have a conversation in the air from one dragon to another.
This morning, I awoke with love in my heart and in my arms, with Serasadin (more about her later) slumbering atop the tower, and a world yet to save. I will do my best not to squander these opportunities and advantages - the blessed should shine their light where they can.
The mix of emotions I feel is nearly incomprehensible. Seeing the fleet from Nefer'khat arrive in the Bay of Thrax was like seeing dawn - bright and full of promise. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that someone on the ground may have looked up and felt that when seeing us. It's one thing to strive toward the light and attempt to bring it to others, and quite another to realize you've done that. But this is in stark contrast to the horrors witnessed in getting here.
Nothing could have prepared me for seeing the city center overrun. Oh, I had the distinct gut-wrenching misery of seeing smoldering ruins left in the wake of Azazel's hordes on the ways to and from Cardia. This, however? This was more grotesque and cruel than any nightmare I have experienced. I am told I wept through the night when finally I found sleep.
Reports I have suggest our losses are uncountable. Millions and millions of lives lost across the whole of Arvum. There may yet be a scant few cites that stand that were not part of the Compact, but only Lenosia, Ostria, Setarco, Bastion, Sanctum, Artshall, and Farhaven remain outside of Arx. The names that have been added to the lists hit too close, and my heart is simply overwhelmed if I try to think about Duke Hadrian Mazetti or Dame Reese Grayson or Duke Titus Halfshav. There are many others, but each of them held special significance for me.
Especially Titus, as I hear we were just moments too late. Perhaps he wouldn't have done what he did? But that is unfair to me and my fellows. In truth, I suspect that my friend was always going to find this path. He had taken plausible deniability and even ignorance from me, telling me who and what he was. And still, I embraced him as a friend. I couldn't find it in me to shun him for any of it, not when there is a flower in my greenhouse from the earliest days we met, exploring the wilds outside his homeland - I was there as a favor to Calla. He was ever-loyal, always there when the people of Eswynd needed their allies. Titus nearly died protecting me and other people I cared for so many times. My hands stitched him back together so he could keep trying. Getting that arrow out of his face was especially challenging. Learning the truth of someone shouldn't immediately undo all the good they did. It should add another layer to your understanding of them.
More and more reports tell me that plausible deniability is a thing of the past, now. That my own patron was seen in battle beside - well, I won't write that name. The attention seems imprudent to draw, and it is information I have gained only in a report.
Of all the surprises, mostly bad, that have come from this situation, I can lay to rest one rumor: My cousin Kima is alive. She returned with us from Cardia. That is about all I can tell of that - it's hard to have a conversation in the air from one dragon to another.
This morning, I awoke with love in my heart and in my arms, with Serasadin (more about her later) slumbering atop the tower, and a world yet to save. I will do my best not to squander these opportunities and advantages - the blessed should shine their light where they can.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 25, 2024, 12:45 p.m.(8/14/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Kastelon
You were there when we found my uncle. I remember seeing you there, in the periphery of everything else, with your bow in hand. And you were there, in the Isles, when you had no need to be. And you lost an eye! You lost a fucking eye, Kastelon! But you had stopped telling me about Bessie well before then. And I can't remember the last time I squished Resolute's ears in my hands. I want to be mad at you. I am. A little.
Yet. The memory that holds, more than the cow racing and bull riding and the days spent observing you at the training center and everything else, is this stupid puzzle. That's not fair. The puzzle isn't stupid.
Amid all the fantastic things that happened at the wedding of Kael and Keely was the simple warmth of us communicating while saying nothing at all to complete that puzzle faster than everyone else. That, somehow, after so many years and whatever had happened between us - and, truly, I have no idea what happened, even though I was a part of it - we were still able to work together to such great effect.
I want to push you off of something. I don't know what to do with these emotions. I don't even know what these emotions are. How dare you? How utterly revolting that an Oathlands lord could make a Lycene lady feel anything, especially this, whatever it is?
(It's grief.)
When the world survives this threat we face, I hope that someone reads this and knows that Lord Kastelon Keaton died to ensure that they could read this. Know that he was a man who loved the forest and came to own a ship, that he could be counted on to come to your defense wherever you were, that he was unafraid to shout at the stars. He was a good man. He should be remembered.
Yet. The memory that holds, more than the cow racing and bull riding and the days spent observing you at the training center and everything else, is this stupid puzzle. That's not fair. The puzzle isn't stupid.
Amid all the fantastic things that happened at the wedding of Kael and Keely was the simple warmth of us communicating while saying nothing at all to complete that puzzle faster than everyone else. That, somehow, after so many years and whatever had happened between us - and, truly, I have no idea what happened, even though I was a part of it - we were still able to work together to such great effect.
I want to push you off of something. I don't know what to do with these emotions. I don't even know what these emotions are. How dare you? How utterly revolting that an Oathlands lord could make a Lycene lady feel anything, especially this, whatever it is?
(It's grief.)
When the world survives this threat we face, I hope that someone reads this and knows that Lord Kastelon Keaton died to ensure that they could read this. Know that he was a man who loved the forest and came to own a ship, that he could be counted on to come to your defense wherever you were, that he was unafraid to shout at the stars. He was a good man. He should be remembered.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 25, 2024, 10:51 a.m.(8/14/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Giorgio
Once, the late Marquessa Ezmeralda Leporidae of Tremorus and Giorgio Pontelaeus invited me to their estate to talk. They said very kind things to me, especially Giorgio, about my leadership capabilities. My then-husband was at my side, hearing all of this, too. We, along with some additional support from Eswynd, had been helping them with military and medical aid during what came to be known as the Scythian War.
They offered me - us - a county to lead as vassal.
Haakon - we - said no.
But I have never forgotten the confidence they had in me. And when Giorgio held the march as marquis, I continued to support the rebuilding of Tremorus in the wake of that horrible, devastating war. There has never been a place that has inspired such awe in me to see. It was beautiful. Even in the destruction.
Much like Giorgio. I hear he is now a statue of gold. How cruelly poetic.
I don't know how a heart is meant to endure such things. For now, the medal Giorgio gave me after the war will be kept with me so that I may keep his memory close.
They offered me - us - a county to lead as vassal.
Haakon - we - said no.
But I have never forgotten the confidence they had in me. And when Giorgio held the march as marquis, I continued to support the rebuilding of Tremorus in the wake of that horrible, devastating war. There has never been a place that has inspired such awe in me to see. It was beautiful. Even in the destruction.
Much like Giorgio. I hear he is now a statue of gold. How cruelly poetic.
I don't know how a heart is meant to endure such things. For now, the medal Giorgio gave me after the war will be kept with me so that I may keep his memory close.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 22, 2024, 5:39 a.m.(8/8/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Mabelle
I knew that there would be losses in the days and weeks to come as we face the horrors of the Abyss let loose upon our beloved Arvum, but this death is one I will mourn for years to come. We all should.
Lady Mabelle Laurent came to be a far dearer friend to me than I think I ever let her know. She and I, when we put our heads together, created wondrous things. She was a brilliant woman - as smart as she was fashionable. Her genius will last beyond these horrors, beyond these lifetimes, and I am sure it will inspire generations beyond. From the creation of exquisite fabrics like starlight silk (I owe some success with windspun wool and peachskin to expertise and support) to her charitable works with the Honey Havens to her artistic preservation endeavors in galleries through Arvum to her extreme dedication to Artshall, she worked tirelessly on projects that few could forget.
More personally, she trusted me with something that I still don't - and may never - know the full consequences of. She trusted me on a whim, and for every single person who benefited from the protection of certain malissite necklaces at Harrow Hall, she is owed thanks. She is the one who removed the barrier I needed removed to gain the guidance I sought in order to create them. She also helped in creating the solution used to destroy the thorns at Harrow Hall, and if my newest project is a success, she will have had a hand in that, too.
Thank you, Mabelle, for all you did. While I will honor you for the hero you came to be, I will choose instead to remember fixing your hair for you at the Fire Bee or chatting at the Saving Grace gardens, or - this, the last time I saw you - at Lottie's with sweets and talk of lists that maybe neither of us were joking about.
You were one of the best of us, and I'm blessed to have known you in this lifetime.
Lady Mabelle Laurent came to be a far dearer friend to me than I think I ever let her know. She and I, when we put our heads together, created wondrous things. She was a brilliant woman - as smart as she was fashionable. Her genius will last beyond these horrors, beyond these lifetimes, and I am sure it will inspire generations beyond. From the creation of exquisite fabrics like starlight silk (I owe some success with windspun wool and peachskin to expertise and support) to her charitable works with the Honey Havens to her artistic preservation endeavors in galleries through Arvum to her extreme dedication to Artshall, she worked tirelessly on projects that few could forget.
More personally, she trusted me with something that I still don't - and may never - know the full consequences of. She trusted me on a whim, and for every single person who benefited from the protection of certain malissite necklaces at Harrow Hall, she is owed thanks. She is the one who removed the barrier I needed removed to gain the guidance I sought in order to create them. She also helped in creating the solution used to destroy the thorns at Harrow Hall, and if my newest project is a success, she will have had a hand in that, too.
Thank you, Mabelle, for all you did. While I will honor you for the hero you came to be, I will choose instead to remember fixing your hair for you at the Fire Bee or chatting at the Saving Grace gardens, or - this, the last time I saw you - at Lottie's with sweets and talk of lists that maybe neither of us were joking about.
You were one of the best of us, and I'm blessed to have known you in this lifetime.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 21, 2024, 4:30 p.m.(8/7/1021 AR)
Yes.
I promise.
I promise.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 18, 2024, 5:19 p.m.(8/1/1021 AR)
I think I may have seen Saikland Greens for the last time. If not for the last time, I will never again see it as it was. I'm glad that I can keep in my memory that perfect summer morning - the warm sun burning off the mist over the southern mountains, dew sparkling across the vineyards like millions of diamonds, the scent of roses and honeysuckle and the distant forges of the glassmakers starting for the day, the early birds chirping while the crickets begin to settle into slumber. Fingers laced together on the veranda before breakfast. Home in both.
I'm deeply grateful to all who visited in the last few months - I hope they remember it fondly. Our last mirroball. Discovering the truth of what happened to the Gyre forces that had hidden away on the edges of our land. Trying to help me find Emilio. Recovering the sword of Alessandra Saik.
The first Alessandra Saik was a trusted member of the Platinum Guard at the time of the Reckoning. She, along with many others, fought alongside Platinum against the Abyss, protecting the Lyceum and lands beyond. The Guard made its home in the lands that would become Saikland Greens - lands granted to Alessandra after the Reckoning by Platinum. She became baroness and was joined by her husband - a fellow member of the Guard who abdicated his place as duke of House Fidante to be with her. Saik was born from heroes of the Reckoning.
There was a second Alessandra Saik, a few hundred years later, and a family feud that saw Rage of the Lioness - the first Alessandra's sword - taken and lost over the years as the Saiks of Saikland Greens forgot that feud happened, and didn't come to blows with the Alsaiks not terribly far from our lands. It was this second Alessandra that married a woman named Vanessa Malvici - hers is a story I may tell eventually.
I couldn't have face them alone. And I regret that I may never see a day when Saik and Alsaik can make amends. But I hope that Baron Marthan Alsaik truly realizes what I gave up in exchange for the Rage of the Lioness. I hope, too, that he was not too proud to heed my evacuation orders.
The last months have been filled with harder and harder decisions, each new challenge presenting some previously impossible to imagine circumstances. Lucita and I have done our best. I sincerely believe that there is no choice we could have made differently to lead to some better outcome for our people. Not one choice has come without shedding tears in anger and anguish - the cost of freedom and choice is consequence. I accept this. It does not make it any easier on my heart.
To the people of Saikland Greens, I am sorry that the circumstances did not allow us to make better choices for you. If there was a way to do it differently, we would have. You're shining examples of what it means to be Lycene, of what it means to be Compact. Stand at Lenosia and make them pay for everything they have taken from us. Live and remember who you are, where you come from.
We will remember.
I'm deeply grateful to all who visited in the last few months - I hope they remember it fondly. Our last mirroball. Discovering the truth of what happened to the Gyre forces that had hidden away on the edges of our land. Trying to help me find Emilio. Recovering the sword of Alessandra Saik.
The first Alessandra Saik was a trusted member of the Platinum Guard at the time of the Reckoning. She, along with many others, fought alongside Platinum against the Abyss, protecting the Lyceum and lands beyond. The Guard made its home in the lands that would become Saikland Greens - lands granted to Alessandra after the Reckoning by Platinum. She became baroness and was joined by her husband - a fellow member of the Guard who abdicated his place as duke of House Fidante to be with her. Saik was born from heroes of the Reckoning.
There was a second Alessandra Saik, a few hundred years later, and a family feud that saw Rage of the Lioness - the first Alessandra's sword - taken and lost over the years as the Saiks of Saikland Greens forgot that feud happened, and didn't come to blows with the Alsaiks not terribly far from our lands. It was this second Alessandra that married a woman named Vanessa Malvici - hers is a story I may tell eventually.
I couldn't have face them alone. And I regret that I may never see a day when Saik and Alsaik can make amends. But I hope that Baron Marthan Alsaik truly realizes what I gave up in exchange for the Rage of the Lioness. I hope, too, that he was not too proud to heed my evacuation orders.
The last months have been filled with harder and harder decisions, each new challenge presenting some previously impossible to imagine circumstances. Lucita and I have done our best. I sincerely believe that there is no choice we could have made differently to lead to some better outcome for our people. Not one choice has come without shedding tears in anger and anguish - the cost of freedom and choice is consequence. I accept this. It does not make it any easier on my heart.
To the people of Saikland Greens, I am sorry that the circumstances did not allow us to make better choices for you. If there was a way to do it differently, we would have. You're shining examples of what it means to be Lycene, of what it means to be Compact. Stand at Lenosia and make them pay for everything they have taken from us. Live and remember who you are, where you come from.
We will remember.
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 Medeia
Jan. 12, 2024, 9:44 a.m.(7/16/1021 AR)
Somewhere between being left dazed by the sudden retreat of that one lord and the murder of my uncle, I had found myself unexpectedly betrothed.
It wasn't a love match. Some people have told me they thought it was, that it seemed to be, and while there was certainly an energy between us - not unlike the alchemical reaction that occurs when adding certain metal-salts to water, I was the only one to ever use that word. What one needs to know is that Marquessa-consort Norah Eswynd and the late Duchess Margot Tyde (cousins in addition to vassal-liege) were decisive women who didn't take "no" for an answer.
There was a wish for Eswynd, still less than a decade knelt at the time, to have a connection to a 'proper' noble house of the Lyceum. I had met and impressed the marquessa in a chance encounter, and she orchestrated a meeting for me with her husband's cousin. Haakon was blisteringly funny, confident to the point of being cocky, and felt entirely familiar - he reminded me the sailors (of course) that were always in the Lowers.
It was only a matter of weeks. Weeks. Of knowing each other when the marquessa approached Lucita to discuss formal courtship. I was so floored by the request that I literally wound up sitting on the floor and saying "no." Leave Saikland? Again? That was a condition. I couldn't imagine it. But.
I was raised with the understanding that I was to be married off, someday. That I was to take my lessons and be a good lady and match with someone who would provide a connection to a house that would benefit Saik. And I wanted to do that, didn't I? I wanted to do what was right for my family and my people. Haakon's oh-so-romantic take was similar: He wouldn't refuse what was good for his house. And so, I changed my "no" to a "yes" - besides, I had the rest of the courtship to change my mind.
However, the rest of the courtship saw barbed comments from people about the match. Comments that opened my eyes to the state of things for Prodigals and made me more certain that this was a path I could, should, walk and a cause for me to lend my voice to. And then came the attack on the city. The Helianthus Traditionalists in Crimson Square left the marquessa with a broken arm. And Haakon? Haakon left three Traditionalists flayed on crosses outside the Grimkin estate (where some had fled for sanctuary). That sight should have turned me away. I had never seen anything so brutal or gruesome, but in the immediate aftermath of kneeling beside my uncle's corpse? That sight twisted something inside of me, and it would take years to fix.
I received the Faith's stamp of approval on our marriage contract just days after the attack. At the exact same time, Haakon and High Lord Victus Thrax were being threatened with excommunication (a circumstance I have never fully understood, given everything else that occurred that day) over the flayings. This confluence of events, all the grief and desire for vengeance, left me certain that "yes" was the correct answer.
Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Yesterday would have been our seventh anniversary if I hadn't left. Leaving was the correct answer.
It wasn't a love match. Some people have told me they thought it was, that it seemed to be, and while there was certainly an energy between us - not unlike the alchemical reaction that occurs when adding certain metal-salts to water, I was the only one to ever use that word. What one needs to know is that Marquessa-consort Norah Eswynd and the late Duchess Margot Tyde (cousins in addition to vassal-liege) were decisive women who didn't take "no" for an answer.
There was a wish for Eswynd, still less than a decade knelt at the time, to have a connection to a 'proper' noble house of the Lyceum. I had met and impressed the marquessa in a chance encounter, and she orchestrated a meeting for me with her husband's cousin. Haakon was blisteringly funny, confident to the point of being cocky, and felt entirely familiar - he reminded me the sailors (of course) that were always in the Lowers.
It was only a matter of weeks. Weeks. Of knowing each other when the marquessa approached Lucita to discuss formal courtship. I was so floored by the request that I literally wound up sitting on the floor and saying "no." Leave Saikland? Again? That was a condition. I couldn't imagine it. But.
I was raised with the understanding that I was to be married off, someday. That I was to take my lessons and be a good lady and match with someone who would provide a connection to a house that would benefit Saik. And I wanted to do that, didn't I? I wanted to do what was right for my family and my people. Haakon's oh-so-romantic take was similar: He wouldn't refuse what was good for his house. And so, I changed my "no" to a "yes" - besides, I had the rest of the courtship to change my mind.
However, the rest of the courtship saw barbed comments from people about the match. Comments that opened my eyes to the state of things for Prodigals and made me more certain that this was a path I could, should, walk and a cause for me to lend my voice to. And then came the attack on the city. The Helianthus Traditionalists in Crimson Square left the marquessa with a broken arm. And Haakon? Haakon left three Traditionalists flayed on crosses outside the Grimkin estate (where some had fled for sanctuary). That sight should have turned me away. I had never seen anything so brutal or gruesome, but in the immediate aftermath of kneeling beside my uncle's corpse? That sight twisted something inside of me, and it would take years to fix.
I received the Faith's stamp of approval on our marriage contract just days after the attack. At the exact same time, Haakon and High Lord Victus Thrax were being threatened with excommunication (a circumstance I have never fully understood, given everything else that occurred that day) over the flayings. This confluence of events, all the grief and desire for vengeance, left me certain that "yes" was the correct answer.
Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Yesterday would have been our seventh anniversary if I hadn't left. Leaving was the correct answer.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 10, 2024, 11:50 a.m.(7/12/1021 AR)
Lord Emilio Saik
I commit his name to the whites, so that some shred of him can be remembered. He existed. None of us remember him. I beg of you to remember him anyway.
He was Estaban's twin. He was my older brother. Estaban could remember him, knew that he was a member of the Inquisition, knew that Azazel had killed him.
I don't know if Emilio was a good brother, carrying me on his back through the vineyards while laughing. I dont know if Emilio tormented me, dipping my hair in ink. Maybe he was both - people are so rarely ever just one thing. Maybe his favorite color was blue, the specific shade of blue that comes to far reaches of the sky when the sun is about to dip below the horizon. Maybe he loved to dance in the dining room to songs he made up about dinner. I don't know. You don't know. Remember him anyway!
Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik was born to Lady Giovanna and Lord Aaron Saik. Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik swam off the Saikland beaches as a child - surely he did, we all did. Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik once had dirt under his fingernails. Whatever it is, so long as it is likely truth, tell someone. Write it down, even if it is just to say in your journals that I am crazy to insist that Lord Emilio Saik was real.
He was. Remember him. Remember all of them.
I commit his name to the whites, so that some shred of him can be remembered. He existed. None of us remember him. I beg of you to remember him anyway.
He was Estaban's twin. He was my older brother. Estaban could remember him, knew that he was a member of the Inquisition, knew that Azazel had killed him.
I don't know if Emilio was a good brother, carrying me on his back through the vineyards while laughing. I dont know if Emilio tormented me, dipping my hair in ink. Maybe he was both - people are so rarely ever just one thing. Maybe his favorite color was blue, the specific shade of blue that comes to far reaches of the sky when the sun is about to dip below the horizon. Maybe he loved to dance in the dining room to songs he made up about dinner. I don't know. You don't know. Remember him anyway!
Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik was born to Lady Giovanna and Lord Aaron Saik. Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik swam off the Saikland beaches as a child - surely he did, we all did. Tell someone that Lord Emilio Saik once had dirt under his fingernails. Whatever it is, so long as it is likely truth, tell someone. Write it down, even if it is just to say in your journals that I am crazy to insist that Lord Emilio Saik was real.
He was. Remember him. Remember all of them.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 8, 2024, 1:53 p.m.(7/8/1021 AR)
The happiness and pride I feel for my cousin, Denis, finding a compatible match with Lady Rosalind Ravenseye is beyond what my words can express. I have known and adored Rosa, accepted her for all of her vibrant and quirky self, for many years now. Her exuberance is rarely matched by another, but I know that Denis is capable of holding his own among the northerners. His mind for trade and skill on ships is absolutely a boon to Ravenseye.
And though I am sad to see him - and his brother, Filip - leave us, I am incredibly excited about the fact that these recent unions between Saik and Ravenseye and Byrne allows us to claim a familial tie to every fealty of the Compact. These connections will bring new and different opportunities, strengthening our houses. It has been my greatest joy and honor to be able to support Saik and the people of Saikland Greens.
And though I am sad to see him - and his brother, Filip - leave us, I am incredibly excited about the fact that these recent unions between Saik and Ravenseye and Byrne allows us to claim a familial tie to every fealty of the Compact. These connections will bring new and different opportunities, strengthening our houses. It has been my greatest joy and honor to be able to support Saik and the people of Saikland Greens.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 4, 2024, 8:26 a.m.(6/28/1021 AR)
Once, a man gave me a book. It was given to me as a way of better understanding the kind of person he, the author, was. Is? He's still alive, and perhaps he is still that same man, but our paths have diverged. The book contained a story of internal conflict, selfless acts. What he gave me, beyond insight into who he was, was the reminder that I can never know all there is to know about a person - no matter how many questions I ask, what scraps of letters or journals I uncover. There is room for surprise, and I should embrace the opportunity to be proven wrong.
Thank you for that gift.
Thank you for that gift.
Written By Medeia
Jan. 2, 2024, 6:28 p.m.(6/25/1021 AR)
It had been suggested that my medicinal skill would make me a candidate for the Mercies, but my heart had already drawn me to the service of the Mother of Beginnings as a Harlequin. I pursued membership with the Physicians Guild, instead, hoping for opportunities to continue to expand my knowledge and capability beyond midwifery and the standard care and keeping of people with sniffles and rashes and farming injuries. The experience I already had saw me rising up within the ranks quickly, though.
I'd set a meeting with the then-guildmistress, the late Marquessa-consort Reigna Keaton, to discuss the test that would be required of me for advancement. It was a gorgeous day. A quiet day, even, at the hospital. I hadn't expected to do the test; I was wearing a pretty dress with plans to go socializing after the meeting. But she had the time and I had the moxie - I've never been one to let what I was wearing stand in the way of providing needed care.
We were on the second patient when everything turned upside down. Screaming in the streets filtered in, and soon after, someone ran in claiming threats had been made against the dominus. Reigna and I grabbed bags of supplies and ran outside - I followed her through the chaos, past the shrines, across the Sovereign, and into the fray of people outside the barricaded Queensrest Inn. There were injuries to attend while others tried to get in. I was overwhelmed by the sounds, the jostling. It was my first time using my field medic training in a battlefield situation.
I hoped we wouldn't find what we did. But everyone knows this part of the story: Orazio Saik, Dominus of the Faith of the Pantheon, my beloved uncle, had been murdered.
The memories get confusing, coming in flashes and layers - like I'm remembering three things at once. People rushing up the stairs, a necklace, a flicker of light, blood under my knees, Aleksei Morgan. (I've never been able to separate Aleksei from that moment in my memory, and that's unfair. He genuinely seems to deserve a better moment to be associated with. I think there is a chance one will replace it.) All I could think was that I need to undo this, fix it, make it better. Do everything right.
I did none of those things. Not that it was within my power to. In truth? Looking back? I did a lot of things wrong. In my grief, I hurt people. And I continued to hurt people for a long time, after. My heart had been turned toward revenge.
It would take years for me to become a different sort of mercy.
I'd set a meeting with the then-guildmistress, the late Marquessa-consort Reigna Keaton, to discuss the test that would be required of me for advancement. It was a gorgeous day. A quiet day, even, at the hospital. I hadn't expected to do the test; I was wearing a pretty dress with plans to go socializing after the meeting. But she had the time and I had the moxie - I've never been one to let what I was wearing stand in the way of providing needed care.
We were on the second patient when everything turned upside down. Screaming in the streets filtered in, and soon after, someone ran in claiming threats had been made against the dominus. Reigna and I grabbed bags of supplies and ran outside - I followed her through the chaos, past the shrines, across the Sovereign, and into the fray of people outside the barricaded Queensrest Inn. There were injuries to attend while others tried to get in. I was overwhelmed by the sounds, the jostling. It was my first time using my field medic training in a battlefield situation.
I hoped we wouldn't find what we did. But everyone knows this part of the story: Orazio Saik, Dominus of the Faith of the Pantheon, my beloved uncle, had been murdered.
The memories get confusing, coming in flashes and layers - like I'm remembering three things at once. People rushing up the stairs, a necklace, a flicker of light, blood under my knees, Aleksei Morgan. (I've never been able to separate Aleksei from that moment in my memory, and that's unfair. He genuinely seems to deserve a better moment to be associated with. I think there is a chance one will replace it.) All I could think was that I need to undo this, fix it, make it better. Do everything right.
I did none of those things. Not that it was within my power to. In truth? Looking back? I did a lot of things wrong. In my grief, I hurt people. And I continued to hurt people for a long time, after. My heart had been turned toward revenge.
It would take years for me to become a different sort of mercy.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 27, 2023, 10:43 p.m.(6/13/1021 AR)
Eventually, the time came for Lucita to summon me to Arx to help represent the house. This was coupled with a nearly simultaneous appointment to be the house's Minister of the Hearth. While I had no issue taking on the heightened responsibilities, I would be lying if I said I didn't experience some worry about being here again.
Those first several weeks are a swirling mess of memories: "breakfast" conversations with Martino at the Black Fox, seeking out Tanith to tell her the truth of my disappearance and identity, meeting so many people - some of whom are still a regular part of my life all these years later, joining the Harlequins, actually getting a chance to spend time with my sister, discovering that Cassimir was alive - I'd had so little good information about what had happened to that side of my family. It felt like, maybe, the past wouldn't keep nipping at my heels.
Amid all this, there was a lord who was inspired to great foolishness in my presence. Repeatedly. By all accounts, he was a serious young man who held to his convictions - resolute, one might say. But how he stumbled over his words, the inelegant ways in which he sought my attention, and the efforts he undertook to impress me? I had never experienced anything as sweet. It seemed like I was permanently blushing, in awe of him praising Jayus because of me, shouting to the stars that I was more beautiful than they, telling me that I was his favorite part of the city.
And then, one day, it just stopped. All of his warmth - like a sunny clearing boasting wildflowers - had been replaced by an aloofness as chilling as the Shadowwood. It might seem entirely silly that such a thing made me consider returning home. Maybe I should have. Reeling from that sudden shift left me in a vulnerable place.
I'm usually right when I worry.
Those first several weeks are a swirling mess of memories: "breakfast" conversations with Martino at the Black Fox, seeking out Tanith to tell her the truth of my disappearance and identity, meeting so many people - some of whom are still a regular part of my life all these years later, joining the Harlequins, actually getting a chance to spend time with my sister, discovering that Cassimir was alive - I'd had so little good information about what had happened to that side of my family. It felt like, maybe, the past wouldn't keep nipping at my heels.
Amid all this, there was a lord who was inspired to great foolishness in my presence. Repeatedly. By all accounts, he was a serious young man who held to his convictions - resolute, one might say. But how he stumbled over his words, the inelegant ways in which he sought my attention, and the efforts he undertook to impress me? I had never experienced anything as sweet. It seemed like I was permanently blushing, in awe of him praising Jayus because of me, shouting to the stars that I was more beautiful than they, telling me that I was his favorite part of the city.
And then, one day, it just stopped. All of his warmth - like a sunny clearing boasting wildflowers - had been replaced by an aloofness as chilling as the Shadowwood. It might seem entirely silly that such a thing made me consider returning home. Maybe I should have. Reeling from that sudden shift left me in a vulnerable place.
I'm usually right when I worry.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 25, 2023, 3:25 p.m.(6/9/1021 AR)
I returned on the last ship bearing Physicians back to Arx from Harrow Hall, having spent the time needed after the battle to ensure that the wounded were all seen to and sent home, that the field was cleared, and the camp packed away. There has been so much talk of what price was paid for our freedom that I'm not entirely sure what is or isn't true. What I am certain of is that there is going to be some next thing, some next challenge for all of us. I am further certain that we will face it. After what we accomplished? I don't think we'll be running from anything.
Until then, I will continue to lovingly fulfill my duties to the people of Saikland Greens and the Compact. There is much to be done back home in preparation for the upcoming mirrorball, and it is time to ensure some old plans come to the forefront. My hope is that some lost stories will be uncovered and welcomed back into memory. I suspect others will agree that history relating a certain Metallic-turned-Emperor could be valuable as the consequences of what happened at Harrow Hall come to light. If some of those rumors are to be believed, anyway.
Until then, I will continue to lovingly fulfill my duties to the people of Saikland Greens and the Compact. There is much to be done back home in preparation for the upcoming mirrorball, and it is time to ensure some old plans come to the forefront. My hope is that some lost stories will be uncovered and welcomed back into memory. I suspect others will agree that history relating a certain Metallic-turned-Emperor could be valuable as the consequences of what happened at Harrow Hall come to light. If some of those rumors are to be believed, anyway.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 19, 2023, 10:48 p.m.(5/25/1021 AR)
The people of Saikland are largely a humble, productive, inviting people. In among the many lessons I had to make up from my years away, I would make sure to spend time in the villages. I continued my apothecary and midwife work, expanding my medical knowledge further. I was welcomed into homes and tended ailments and swaddled babies and held the hands of the dying. I made it my duty to know them, to understand them.
When I did allow myself to rest, I often found myself in the vineyards and orchards. I had always been fascinated by the entire winemaking process - that a seed could become a flourishing vine and grow fruits that we crushed and fermented seemed like magic when I was a child. And so, I began working with the vintners. Within a year, I had become head of the house's wine operations.
It felt like I had so much to make up for. I pushed myself to be worthy of my title, to earn the trust that Lucita had placed in me. Whenever visitors came from other houses, I was the perfect hostess - polite and sociable and indulgent. Early in that second year back, Martino Malvici, then an unmarried lord, visited. Looking back, I think some conspirators in Saik and Malvici had arranged for his diplomatic trip to coincide with me being the only one of the house able to receive him.
A story had begun to spread, a variation on the lie Marco had told, an extension really, that claimed the reason I had run away was that I was so frivolous and silly that I feared no one would find me beautiful with my scar. I would never find a husband marked as I was. Variations on that story spread, making me out to be someone I wouldn't recognize - or, perhaps, would only recognize on the other side of a mirror. Martino didn't buy it. And he's the only visitor during that time that I failed to be perfect for.
Still, he saw how much effort I was putting into the house. We spent years writing to one another, and I would visit Southport whenever possible. "The Delight of Saik" - that's what he used to call me. He'd extracted a promise from me, that first visit - that I aid him in protecting Malvici, Saik, the Lyceum, and the Compact beyond. I never imagined where that promise would take me.
Sitting here, in this city with so many memories, holding on to that promise, I can't help but wonder if I would have made that promise if I knew what was coming.
When I did allow myself to rest, I often found myself in the vineyards and orchards. I had always been fascinated by the entire winemaking process - that a seed could become a flourishing vine and grow fruits that we crushed and fermented seemed like magic when I was a child. And so, I began working with the vintners. Within a year, I had become head of the house's wine operations.
It felt like I had so much to make up for. I pushed myself to be worthy of my title, to earn the trust that Lucita had placed in me. Whenever visitors came from other houses, I was the perfect hostess - polite and sociable and indulgent. Early in that second year back, Martino Malvici, then an unmarried lord, visited. Looking back, I think some conspirators in Saik and Malvici had arranged for his diplomatic trip to coincide with me being the only one of the house able to receive him.
A story had begun to spread, a variation on the lie Marco had told, an extension really, that claimed the reason I had run away was that I was so frivolous and silly that I feared no one would find me beautiful with my scar. I would never find a husband marked as I was. Variations on that story spread, making me out to be someone I wouldn't recognize - or, perhaps, would only recognize on the other side of a mirror. Martino didn't buy it. And he's the only visitor during that time that I failed to be perfect for.
Still, he saw how much effort I was putting into the house. We spent years writing to one another, and I would visit Southport whenever possible. "The Delight of Saik" - that's what he used to call me. He'd extracted a promise from me, that first visit - that I aid him in protecting Malvici, Saik, the Lyceum, and the Compact beyond. I never imagined where that promise would take me.
Sitting here, in this city with so many memories, holding on to that promise, I can't help but wonder if I would have made that promise if I knew what was coming.
Written By Medeia
Dec. 18, 2023, 11:35 a.m.(5/22/1021 AR)
I offer my sincere congratulations to Prince Theo Velenosa and his Champion, Lord Mattheu Rivenshari, for their victory.
I don't regret my choice of Champion at all. Sir Jeffeth Bayweather is an exemplar of what it means to be a Champion. Aside from being physically challenging - truly, he did not make it easy on his opponent at all, he is a delightful and engaging performer, one who knows how to work a crowd and ensure that both honor and entertainment are fulfilled. In the face of a more dire challenge, I am certain he would be equally as exceptional.
I don't regret my choice of Champion at all. Sir Jeffeth Bayweather is an exemplar of what it means to be a Champion. Aside from being physically challenging - truly, he did not make it easy on his opponent at all, he is a delightful and engaging performer, one who knows how to work a crowd and ensure that both honor and entertainment are fulfilled. In the face of a more dire challenge, I am certain he would be equally as exceptional.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.