Written By Mia
Jan. 28, 2024, 10:37 p.m.(8/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Thesarin
Written on the road to Bastion, August 5, 1021 AR:
If I fall in the coming days, know this to be true.
My heart has been entirely yours from the very first moment until my very last. Even in those times when it seemed I hated you, it never faltered. Not once. If anything, that was when I loved you the most.
If I fall in the coming days, know this to be true.
My heart has been entirely yours from the very first moment until my very last. Even in those times when it seemed I hated you, it never faltered. Not once. If anything, that was when I loved you the most.
Written By Mia
Jan. 28, 2024, 10:24 p.m.(8/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Ezra
Written on the road to Bastion, August 5, 1021 AR:
By rights, it should've been yours or even Nigel's. I offered to give it up so many times and every time that I did, you refused. Looking back, I suspect that it was as much for my sake as for your own. But know that I would've done so happily, and given so very much more, to spare you a moment's pain.
If I find myself standing before the Queen of Endings in the days to come, the one thing I would ask of her is to make your next turn on the Wheel a kinder and gentler one. If I could ask her for two things, it would be to send me with you a second time. You've been the very best of brothers and I'm not ready to let you go just yet.
By rights, it should've been yours or even Nigel's. I offered to give it up so many times and every time that I did, you refused. Looking back, I suspect that it was as much for my sake as for your own. But know that I would've done so happily, and given so very much more, to spare you a moment's pain.
If I find myself standing before the Queen of Endings in the days to come, the one thing I would ask of her is to make your next turn on the Wheel a kinder and gentler one. If I could ask her for two things, it would be to send me with you a second time. You've been the very best of brothers and I'm not ready to let you go just yet.
Written By Mia
Jan. 28, 2024, 10:03 p.m.(8/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
Written on the road to Bastion, August 4, 1021 AR:
Loving my uncle would've been enough, but you made our family whole in ways that I never even knew we needed.
Thank you.
Loving my uncle would've been enough, but you made our family whole in ways that I never even knew we needed.
Thank you.
Written By Mia
Jan. 28, 2024, 9:27 p.m.(8/21/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Mihaly
Written on the road to Bastion, August 4, 2021 AR:
I have had three fathers in my life.
The first was Elephon Sylvas, called Orichalcum. He was a man and a mage, a once-prince of the sylv'alfar, a would-be god who betrayed his friends, his order, his people. He brought me into this world through circumstances I do not know and am unlikely to ever learn, but with the intention of sacrificing my heartsblood for his own dark purposes. He taught me what power was, in more dark and terrible ways than I care to recall.
The second was Laveer Riven. He claimed me as his own child, offering me shelter and safety and love. He was brave and he was bold and he was kind. He taught me the meaning of home and of family, of honor and of duty. He gave me a future, and it would have been more than enough for me to consider myself fortunate.
But the third was his brother, Mihaly Riven. House Riven never would have endured without him. I would not have endured without him. He taught me the meaning of sacrifice by making more than any one man should ever be expected to. He made them willingly, with neither hesitation nor complaint. His has been the hardest lesson to learn, and I hope he never has cause to teach it again.
I have had three fathers in my life.
The first was Elephon Sylvas, called Orichalcum. He was a man and a mage, a once-prince of the sylv'alfar, a would-be god who betrayed his friends, his order, his people. He brought me into this world through circumstances I do not know and am unlikely to ever learn, but with the intention of sacrificing my heartsblood for his own dark purposes. He taught me what power was, in more dark and terrible ways than I care to recall.
The second was Laveer Riven. He claimed me as his own child, offering me shelter and safety and love. He was brave and he was bold and he was kind. He taught me the meaning of home and of family, of honor and of duty. He gave me a future, and it would have been more than enough for me to consider myself fortunate.
But the third was his brother, Mihaly Riven. House Riven never would have endured without him. I would not have endured without him. He taught me the meaning of sacrifice by making more than any one man should ever be expected to. He made them willingly, with neither hesitation nor complaint. His has been the hardest lesson to learn, and I hope he never has cause to teach it again.
Written By Mia
Jan. 28, 2024, 8:48 p.m.(8/21/1021 AR)
Written on the road to Bastion, August 3, 1021 AR:
It has been nearly a fortnight now since I sat in the library at Heron Hall, staring at the great map table covered in every token we could possibly find to represent Azazel's hordes and they were still not enough. A fortnight since stared despondent at what Thesarin and Eirene and Mihaly had all laid out before, refusing to believe the words they spoke -- that nearly thirty years of rebuilding what we'd lost had come to an end, that the Twainfort could not hold. There is no one and nothing in this world that I place more faith in than my family and my people, and yet there they stood, telling me that any attempt to defend it would only end in the death of every soul we had ever brought through its gates and offered shelter.
I hated them in that moment and though it's an admission that I ought to be ashamed to make, that doesn't make it any less true. I hated them, I hated myself for my failures, and most of all I hated hope. I'd lost it for so very long, had almost forgotten what it felt like after years and years of being terrorized by Orichalcum -- the would-be Horned God, the once-prince Elephon Sylvas. He had been my father, my true father, by blood and by birth but never by choice.
I had found hope again in his death. Not duty or grim determination, but hope. And when it was gone, I resented those few weeks I had it at all.
When the truth of what my generals told me stopped ringing bitterly in my ears, I ordered the Twainfort evacuated, then burned. The bulk of our armies -- nearly twenty thousand men and women -- will go to Bastion, to cover our people's retreat, with Thesarin and I marching at the front. Another ten thousand will escort our people to Arx, and the home I've held dearer than any other ordered trapped and set alight with Arvani fire. If we are to lose the Twainfort, let it it be in a blaze of righteous fury that would devour Azazel's hordes. Let them burn with some small measure of the agony of the riverlanders born on its banks, of the islanders and the Abandoned who had made it their own, and the elves who had called it a refuge when no other was open to them. Let the Eater choke on a mouthful of ash and death, and know that Arvum will not bow or break.
It has been three days since since I received the last report of the Twainfort and its fate. They said the captain of the last ship to set sail from the dock waited longer than any reasonable woman would and when she turned back to see the first flames rise, she broke out into song. She sang a lament that's barely been heard in the riverlands since the Night of Hundred Pyres, when my adopted father, Count Laveer Riven and all his forces fell. The sailors swore they could see the baleful green of the flames and taste the lifeless gray of the ash all the way to the mouth of the Mother.
Our home is gone. I ride now not for our land, but for our people -- to buy them time, to give them hope, and pray that they may hold it longer and dearer than I did.
We will not fall, for their sakes.
It has been nearly a fortnight now since I sat in the library at Heron Hall, staring at the great map table covered in every token we could possibly find to represent Azazel's hordes and they were still not enough. A fortnight since stared despondent at what Thesarin and Eirene and Mihaly had all laid out before, refusing to believe the words they spoke -- that nearly thirty years of rebuilding what we'd lost had come to an end, that the Twainfort could not hold. There is no one and nothing in this world that I place more faith in than my family and my people, and yet there they stood, telling me that any attempt to defend it would only end in the death of every soul we had ever brought through its gates and offered shelter.
I hated them in that moment and though it's an admission that I ought to be ashamed to make, that doesn't make it any less true. I hated them, I hated myself for my failures, and most of all I hated hope. I'd lost it for so very long, had almost forgotten what it felt like after years and years of being terrorized by Orichalcum -- the would-be Horned God, the once-prince Elephon Sylvas. He had been my father, my true father, by blood and by birth but never by choice.
I had found hope again in his death. Not duty or grim determination, but hope. And when it was gone, I resented those few weeks I had it at all.
When the truth of what my generals told me stopped ringing bitterly in my ears, I ordered the Twainfort evacuated, then burned. The bulk of our armies -- nearly twenty thousand men and women -- will go to Bastion, to cover our people's retreat, with Thesarin and I marching at the front. Another ten thousand will escort our people to Arx, and the home I've held dearer than any other ordered trapped and set alight with Arvani fire. If we are to lose the Twainfort, let it it be in a blaze of righteous fury that would devour Azazel's hordes. Let them burn with some small measure of the agony of the riverlanders born on its banks, of the islanders and the Abandoned who had made it their own, and the elves who had called it a refuge when no other was open to them. Let the Eater choke on a mouthful of ash and death, and know that Arvum will not bow or break.
It has been three days since since I received the last report of the Twainfort and its fate. They said the captain of the last ship to set sail from the dock waited longer than any reasonable woman would and when she turned back to see the first flames rise, she broke out into song. She sang a lament that's barely been heard in the riverlands since the Night of Hundred Pyres, when my adopted father, Count Laveer Riven and all his forces fell. The sailors swore they could see the baleful green of the flames and taste the lifeless gray of the ash all the way to the mouth of the Mother.
Our home is gone. I ride now not for our land, but for our people -- to buy them time, to give them hope, and pray that they may hold it longer and dearer than I did.
We will not fall, for their sakes.
Written By Mia
Dec. 24, 2023, 11:47 a.m.(6/6/1021 AR)
Let it be recorded here, so that it is never forgotten:
On the fourth day of June, one thousand and twenty one years after the Reckoning, the man and the mage known as Prince Elephon Sylvas, Orichalcum of the Metallic Order, the would-be Horned God, is dead.
The crimes he committed against so many are innumerable, the horrors which he inflicted unspeakable, and though he was once driven to these actions out of a desire to protect his people and avenge what he felt to be a betrayal by those he held most dear, the path which he chose led him to violate the laws of the very Dream itself.
He was delivered to justice by the words and the actions and the voices of thousands -- friends, family, lovers, allies, enemies, strangers -- and the price of righteous vengeance was steep.
But he is dead, he died screaming, and he will not rise again.
We don't know yet what consequences the day's choices will bring, but I hope that for all of those who suffered by his hands, there will be some measure of peace. You deserve that, and so much more.
On the fourth day of June, one thousand and twenty one years after the Reckoning, the man and the mage known as Prince Elephon Sylvas, Orichalcum of the Metallic Order, the would-be Horned God, is dead.
The crimes he committed against so many are innumerable, the horrors which he inflicted unspeakable, and though he was once driven to these actions out of a desire to protect his people and avenge what he felt to be a betrayal by those he held most dear, the path which he chose led him to violate the laws of the very Dream itself.
He was delivered to justice by the words and the actions and the voices of thousands -- friends, family, lovers, allies, enemies, strangers -- and the price of righteous vengeance was steep.
But he is dead, he died screaming, and he will not rise again.
We don't know yet what consequences the day's choices will bring, but I hope that for all of those who suffered by his hands, there will be some measure of peace. You deserve that, and so much more.
Written By Mia
Nov. 12, 2023, 9:41 p.m.(3/7/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Raven
When your own native language fails, I recommend turning to the languages of others.
Given your parameters, the first word that comes to mind is one which I learned from a particular tribe of Crownlands shav'arvani. Were I to translate even its rough meaning into common Arvani, the description would be quite graphic, more than a bit medical, involve at least two other vulgarities, and be ENTIRELY unfit for print in public journals.
Learning languages is only dull when you study them in dusty libraries and never actually apply them out in the world.
Given your parameters, the first word that comes to mind is one which I learned from a particular tribe of Crownlands shav'arvani. Were I to translate even its rough meaning into common Arvani, the description would be quite graphic, more than a bit medical, involve at least two other vulgarities, and be ENTIRELY unfit for print in public journals.
Learning languages is only dull when you study them in dusty libraries and never actually apply them out in the world.
Written By Mia
June 19, 2022, 3:37 p.m.(11/10/1017 AR)
Relationship Note on Monique
I cannot say why it was this loss, this death, that drove me to do it, and yet after word reached Heron Hall, I found myself digging through the papers and boxes in my study for the will that I wrote on the eve of Stormwall.
That night was nearly ten years ago now and as I look at these names, I see so many who I have outlived. I see how many friendships are broken. So many people who will never receive that final gift, or those last words of kindness, that I had meant for them.
She would have laughed, I think, to know that I had left her with a task, with a dare even, meant to bring her a sense of triumph and delight.
Though I doubt she meant to, she's left me with a task, too, but there will be no joy it.
I see so much potential lost as I look at these names. So much left undone.
That night was nearly ten years ago now and as I look at these names, I see so many who I have outlived. I see how many friendships are broken. So many people who will never receive that final gift, or those last words of kindness, that I had meant for them.
She would have laughed, I think, to know that I had left her with a task, with a dare even, meant to bring her a sense of triumph and delight.
Though I doubt she meant to, she's left me with a task, too, but there will be no joy it.
I see so much potential lost as I look at these names. So much left undone.
Written By Mia
March 20, 2022, 9:19 p.m.(4/25/1017 AR)
Relationship Note on Eirene
I am significantly less concerned about the broken ceramic dog than I am about who is going to washing paint out of the fur of our ACTUAL dogs.
Written By Mia
Oct. 3, 2021, 7:02 p.m.(4/25/1016 AR)
I am recording this here, in public, knowing perfectly well that the pair of them will hold this over me for the rest of our collective lives and probably be insufferable about it at every opportunity.
I am grateful for my brothers.
(Yes, even when I want to strangle them.)
I am grateful for my brothers.
(Yes, even when I want to strangle them.)
Written By Mia
Aug. 19, 2021, 9:13 p.m.(1/19/1016 AR)
It's been a very long time since we've had so many of the Rivens under the same roof - not all, but close enough to it.
For all the years I've spent in Arx, it's honestly the first time that Heron Hall has felt like home.
For all the years I've spent in Arx, it's honestly the first time that Heron Hall has felt like home.
Written By Mia
Aug. 1, 2021, 11:49 p.m.(12/11/1015 AR)
Whenever I feel the need to be pedantic and condescending, I also feel obligated to put forth the effort to ensure that my arguments are well-researched and factually correct. When one's determined to be insufferable, it's honestly just the polite thing to do.
You may be smug or you may be wrong, but I strongly advise against attempting both simultaneously.
You may be smug or you may be wrong, but I strongly advise against attempting both simultaneously.
Written By Mia
July 30, 2021, 7:29 p.m.(12/7/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Amari
There are days when I have thought to myself, 'If I weren't already married, I would propose a match between myself and Amari Keaton.' It would be an entirely platonic match, of course, given that I'm very fond of men and I'm fairly certain that she is, too.
But today, after reading her most recent white journal, is one of those days.
But today, after reading her most recent white journal, is one of those days.
Written By Mia
July 17, 2021, 5:27 p.m.(11/9/1015 AR)
So often, I sit and read the journals left by others where they've marked the passing of time by the turn of a season, of another birthday, of the age of a child.
While it's true that these all denote the change of dates of a calendar, I've come to believe that the real mark of passed time is that one frozen moment where you look back at something that you used to do, or say, or -- most importantly -- believe and laugh at yourself. Then comes the inevitable realization that if this is some axiom of life, one day some time in the future, provided you live long enough, you'll be laughing again at who you are right now.
How jolly Lagoma must be. Sooner or later, she makes fools of us all.
While it's true that these all denote the change of dates of a calendar, I've come to believe that the real mark of passed time is that one frozen moment where you look back at something that you used to do, or say, or -- most importantly -- believe and laugh at yourself. Then comes the inevitable realization that if this is some axiom of life, one day some time in the future, provided you live long enough, you'll be laughing again at who you are right now.
How jolly Lagoma must be. Sooner or later, she makes fools of us all.
Written By Mia
April 15, 2021, 10:51 p.m.(4/20/1015 AR)
I am reminded of something I often heard my mother say as I grew older and was allowed to accompany her to social events, packed full of some of the most recognizable lords and ladies of the realm.
"If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit right here by me."
"If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit right here by me."
Written By Mia
Nov. 30, 2020, 8:41 a.m.(6/24/1014 AR)
My words are for one man, though 'man' is a term I use very loosely, as he is not worthy of it. Wherever he is, I hope they reach him.
Anyone who threatens my people will live to regret it.
Anyone who harms my people will not live at all.
I am going to find you. You are going to pay for what you've done.
Anyone who threatens my people will live to regret it.
Anyone who harms my people will not live at all.
I am going to find you. You are going to pay for what you've done.
Written By Mia
June 27, 2020, 6:41 p.m.(7/20/1013 AR)
Knowing that something is true is not at all the same as believing in it.
There are a good many things that I've seen with my own eyes which I still refuse to believe in because, frankly, believing in them just encourages them -- and that is to be avoided at all costs.
There are a good many things that I've seen with my own eyes which I still refuse to believe in because, frankly, believing in them just encourages them -- and that is to be avoided at all costs.
Written By Mia
May 12, 2020, 9:56 p.m.(4/12/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Tikva
I suspect that you and I may be looking at two very different pieces of paper, Your Highness.
Written By Mia
April 5, 2020, 7:46 p.m.(1/22/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
My youngest boy has told me since he was three years old that he would one day be a great knight, second only to the White Dragon of the West, who is the very best of men. You might call it childish nonsense, but I've met the High Lord of Sanctum more than once and he makes it a bit easier to believe that the dreams of children may not be such silly things after all.
Written By Mia
March 9, 2020, 1:23 a.m.(11/22/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Niklas
To answer your question: One would assume a meticulously cultivated talent combined with generations of careful breeding.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.