Written By Ouida
July 3, 2020, 1:32 a.m.(8/3/1013 AR)
Today I welcomed Sir Niall RedTree as a brother-in-arms in service to Lord Orvyn Harthall, Count of the March of Fair Harbour. The road to service is never an easy one, not even for those who are placed upon its path almost at birth, and certainly not for those who have found their lives disordered and then change forever when conflict comes to their lands, whether or not they instigated it. When his people bent the knee, and he chose to return with our party to Fair Harbour, I gave my word to his mother when she asked that I would treat him with the same respect and care that any other young one that spends time in our household as a page would be, and would write to her weekly keeping her updated. And so I have, over these years, I think building another bond as well, and a deeper respect now that I am only slightly less ignorant of a mother's fears for their son.
And so I am keenly aware of another's loss in my gain at seeing him grow from awkwardly gangly and growing boy into a strong young man, who wields a greatsword as seemingly easily as if it were a mere hairpin. He came to us certainly better educated in his letters and of keener mind than I believe I ever cared to be at his age, but to see his delight in taking in all that the city had to offer, as well as in our many travels is something that I have treasured as much as seeing him grow to be an exceptional competitor on the training grounds, and seeing him grow into a knight's prowess and temperament upon the field. I have seen the pile of scented messages and favors grow, as well as him spending quite a long time agonizing over each reply. I have seen him wrestle over the years with what people say to his face, or behind his back; watched how he chose to deal with it, then and now.
But there does come a time for one journey to end, and another to begin. In truth, even as a squire I would have trusted Niall Redtree to guard my back as well as many other knights. While we will continue to serve Harthall together, I hope, for some time to come, and so I may yet be privileged to see him continue to grow more and more into his own, and the path he carves for himself.
And so I am keenly aware of another's loss in my gain at seeing him grow from awkwardly gangly and growing boy into a strong young man, who wields a greatsword as seemingly easily as if it were a mere hairpin. He came to us certainly better educated in his letters and of keener mind than I believe I ever cared to be at his age, but to see his delight in taking in all that the city had to offer, as well as in our many travels is something that I have treasured as much as seeing him grow to be an exceptional competitor on the training grounds, and seeing him grow into a knight's prowess and temperament upon the field. I have seen the pile of scented messages and favors grow, as well as him spending quite a long time agonizing over each reply. I have seen him wrestle over the years with what people say to his face, or behind his back; watched how he chose to deal with it, then and now.
But there does come a time for one journey to end, and another to begin. In truth, even as a squire I would have trusted Niall Redtree to guard my back as well as many other knights. While we will continue to serve Harthall together, I hope, for some time to come, and so I may yet be privileged to see him continue to grow more and more into his own, and the path he carves for himself.
Written By Ouida
May 30, 2020, 4:12 a.m.(5/19/1013 AR)
I do not think I shall ever again be able to quite enjoy smoked or roasted mushrooms, even in a gravy, as once I did.
Written By Ouida
March 22, 2020, 6:26 p.m.(12/22/1012 AR)
Relationship Note on Juniper
When my eyes open and I see I am still myself and whole, it seems as if it would be ill done to unravel now. Did we buy enough time? I am not a sharp mind to know. I suppose it does not matter. There are many innocents now that have a little more time, thanks to you. Our paths crossed in so many strange ways, past and present, though I am glad that I got to meet you at this crossing. I know you would wrinkle your nose at me for asking, but I hope that we made you proud too. My heart moves towards winter, but I know when I most need it I will feel the warmth of the love that you gave, like a sunbreak, and it will be enough.
Written By Ouida
March 21, 2020, 11:45 a.m.(12/19/1012 AR)
Some partings hurt too deeply for words.
Written By Ouida
March 7, 2020, 11:59 a.m.(11/19/1012 AR)
One has to wonder, when someone implies that it would be wrong to face an enemy whose soldiers would not choose to be there freely, if they have been willfully or unwittingly, or just have not seen enough outside their van.
Like so many things, the people who suffer the most and spill the most blood are often there not out of some starry-eyed idealism and committment to some cause, but because they are bound by profession, debt, honor, or some other reason that compels them to be there.
I have fought alongside my soldiers in many conflicts and put people to the sword in them that either had no choice to be there or felt that they must. It was no real joy to kill people who were compelled to fight, by some dread force or desperation, but it is a fact of living by the sword that one us exceptionally likely to do so at some point.
I have, and would again make those same decisions, and will again. Likely I will meet my end by some sister or brother of the blade who feels the same, or who sees me as an object to overcome to meet their goal or defend what is dear to them or they have been told to defend.
I am glad that we have both diplomats and gentle people in our midst. But I am not one of them, my gifts lie elsewhere. Most diplomats I know understand the need for both.
While I too question the wisdom of seeking out mass bloodshed to soak a land in service to something that seems to be thirsty for it, I am not convinced that is the real objective and I am certain there has been some thought given to that. Though I am no scholar of mystical matters. Perhaps it does not matter at all. I am not above stubborn pettiness, as my brother can attest, so perhaps my feelings about it are more spiteful than wise.
Like so many things, the people who suffer the most and spill the most blood are often there not out of some starry-eyed idealism and committment to some cause, but because they are bound by profession, debt, honor, or some other reason that compels them to be there.
I have fought alongside my soldiers in many conflicts and put people to the sword in them that either had no choice to be there or felt that they must. It was no real joy to kill people who were compelled to fight, by some dread force or desperation, but it is a fact of living by the sword that one us exceptionally likely to do so at some point.
I have, and would again make those same decisions, and will again. Likely I will meet my end by some sister or brother of the blade who feels the same, or who sees me as an object to overcome to meet their goal or defend what is dear to them or they have been told to defend.
I am glad that we have both diplomats and gentle people in our midst. But I am not one of them, my gifts lie elsewhere. Most diplomats I know understand the need for both.
While I too question the wisdom of seeking out mass bloodshed to soak a land in service to something that seems to be thirsty for it, I am not convinced that is the real objective and I am certain there has been some thought given to that. Though I am no scholar of mystical matters. Perhaps it does not matter at all. I am not above stubborn pettiness, as my brother can attest, so perhaps my feelings about it are more spiteful than wise.
Written By Ouida
Nov. 23, 2019, 8:31 p.m.(4/3/1012 AR)
I have completed this journey so many times since coming to reside primarily in Arx. I know just how much to pack, and how much space to leave for extra things I will invariably take with me from Fair Harbour when I return. And yet I know this time when I travel to the Island it will be the last time I do in this chapter of my life, and when I return to Arx I will be leaving behind more than I ever have before. I thought I knew what it was to have one's heart in many places, in my days as a travelling knight. But I know it will be so very different this time. Is it weak to admit some fear in this? I have never much been excited about the unknown, but I have learned to be strong in the face of it. A promise kept, and one part of an oath fulfilled. They are things that build a stronger foundation, a brighter and stronger future. And yet, the tears that I feel threatening are not wholly in joy. If there is one thing I have learned to do in my life it is to look clearly at what one holds in the hand, to take it in, and to make the decision that is the one that is the best of your abilities and intentions.
This is a journey I never thought I would take, not even when I was a little girl. I only hope that I will not disappoint those that now share it with me.
This is a journey I never thought I would take, not even when I was a little girl. I only hope that I will not disappoint those that now share it with me.
Written By Ouida
Nov. 3, 2019, 6:13 p.m.(2/19/1012 AR)
It is very easy, when one is a pragmatist above all else, to be lured into cynicism as well. But thank the gods that I have treasures beyond compare in dear friends who can lift my heart in its darkest musings with their seemingly irrepressible brightness, or the lightness of their being, or their stubborn pigheaded optimism that one can scarcely avoid being drawn into due to their charm. There are times I confess that I have oft wondered what sort of world this child will come into in just a very short time, but it seems the answer is much the same as any other time during the ages: an imperfect and dangerous one, made worthy by the love and beauty one finds in others around you.
Written By Ouida
Aug. 18, 2019, 3:32 p.m.(9/4/1011 AR)
It is strange how one can miss another so deeply, across a span of years so wide that the sense of a face, a scent, a voice is hard to grasp anymore save in a rare dream or memory--and one wonders if even that is truly accurate.
What a strange thing is the heart.
And dangerous.
What a strange thing is the heart.
And dangerous.
Written By Ouida
July 7, 2019, 1:35 p.m.(6/4/1011 AR)
Perspective both illuminates and blinds, it seems.
No matter who you are.
It is not always easy to be willing to see and hold your shortcomings, how you have hurt others, the things done that will be unforgivable by some even as they are lauded or approved of by others.
But at the same time, if one spends most of the time looking down to see the old blood upon their hands, or over the shoulder to revisit the past, one might risk causing an even greater calamity that could have been averted by looking forward. It doesn't mean that one does not sit with the reality of what one has done, in the quiet moments, or before the next decision. Pain instructs. Regret instructs. As does grief. But it is important to heed that instruction and let it guide but not overwhelm. Those who allow it to overwhelm often become the most dangerous to those they love and indeed everything around them.
The fight is difficult, and often costs dearly. But it must be taken up, to move forward, step by step.
No matter who you are.
It is not always easy to be willing to see and hold your shortcomings, how you have hurt others, the things done that will be unforgivable by some even as they are lauded or approved of by others.
But at the same time, if one spends most of the time looking down to see the old blood upon their hands, or over the shoulder to revisit the past, one might risk causing an even greater calamity that could have been averted by looking forward. It doesn't mean that one does not sit with the reality of what one has done, in the quiet moments, or before the next decision. Pain instructs. Regret instructs. As does grief. But it is important to heed that instruction and let it guide but not overwhelm. Those who allow it to overwhelm often become the most dangerous to those they love and indeed everything around them.
The fight is difficult, and often costs dearly. But it must be taken up, to move forward, step by step.
Written By Ouida
June 6, 2019, 2:19 p.m.(3/26/1011 AR)
My tutors would always make rather pained faces whenever the subject of spontaneous verse came up. I always thought that I did not much care for verse at all truth be told, except perhaps when particularly inspired by wooing.
I must say however that perhaps I have changed my mind! It was pleasant to hear the cheers at the poetry joust, though I thought I saw a rather dismayed look in Lord Andreas' eyes, he seems to have recovered quite admirably!
I must say however that perhaps I have changed my mind! It was pleasant to hear the cheers at the poetry joust, though I thought I saw a rather dismayed look in Lord Andreas' eyes, he seems to have recovered quite admirably!
Written By Ouida
May 19, 2019, 12:17 p.m.(2/18/1011 AR)
<Note: Despite the time of the writing being in winter, there is an impression of a pressed and wilted flower, brushed with ink and then pressed to the page.>
Hope is born of sorrow and suffering, more often than not. For who can cherish the brightness greater than one who has stared into the dark. I wonder sometimes if the spotless amongst us can appreciate a washing clean as much as someone whose hands have been covered in blood or worse, and if those eyes who have never stung with tears of pain can hold as precious those stings of joy.
Sometimes hope is grand, hearing thousands of voices lifted in song or cheers or defiant shouts. Sometimes it is seeing the next sunrise, so beautiful, though all around you is ash and blood, and to know that you still live and can perhaps dare to hope to live just one day more.
Other times it is more humble. Humbling. A child's giggle as you braid her hair into an Oathlands knot for the first time. A tankard of ale shared as you describe your favorite place to be in your domain, and watch the wonder and pride in another's face as they tell you of theirs. People who are content and trusting enough to simply and quietly walk beside you, as travelers and new friends. So much hope to be found, bound up in trust and love and a wiliness to give both.
Planting seeds.
A crown of grass.
Hope is born of sorrow and suffering, more often than not. For who can cherish the brightness greater than one who has stared into the dark. I wonder sometimes if the spotless amongst us can appreciate a washing clean as much as someone whose hands have been covered in blood or worse, and if those eyes who have never stung with tears of pain can hold as precious those stings of joy.
Sometimes hope is grand, hearing thousands of voices lifted in song or cheers or defiant shouts. Sometimes it is seeing the next sunrise, so beautiful, though all around you is ash and blood, and to know that you still live and can perhaps dare to hope to live just one day more.
Other times it is more humble. Humbling. A child's giggle as you braid her hair into an Oathlands knot for the first time. A tankard of ale shared as you describe your favorite place to be in your domain, and watch the wonder and pride in another's face as they tell you of theirs. People who are content and trusting enough to simply and quietly walk beside you, as travelers and new friends. So much hope to be found, bound up in trust and love and a wiliness to give both.
Planting seeds.
A crown of grass.
Written By Ouida
April 14, 2019, 12:27 p.m.(12/4/1010 AR)
Oh the things we do, with the mind that we will forge a brighter world and higher prospects for our children and our children's children.
How little we remember that those we view as standing in the way of that, or an obstacle to overcome, or someone who must be eliminated are probably viewing us in in the same way, for the same reasons.
If those we face across from us are free from corruption (at least as much as any of us are) and are not tainted with the forbidden (and certainly we must be very careful that our assessment on that matter is correct), I do wonder how things would be different if we just kept in mind that the desires of the one we are in conflict with may well be ones that we share. Would that be enough, in that step back, to extend a little more patience, to work a little harder, to think a little more clearly?
Do not worry, I am not holding my breath. Instead I pray that we will have the strength to do just that, to hold, acknowledge, and then set aside our fears and desires for gratification and worries about who is getting the greater measure in order to join together when we need to do so. Thus far, we have always been able to do so. We are, after all this time, still standing.
There are many times that I look at my hands and see the blood upon them, that I remember those past that I have lost or faced and won that day in a hollow victory, the times when I returned from seeing horrors and wondering why it was not me that was accepted into the arms of the Queen of Endings. But then I remember. Despite our terrible natures towards each other, when we have needed each other, truly, it seems we have always been able to find the strength together to rise and face what needs to be faced, no matter how our alliances might shift over tens, hundreds, thousands of years. And I find hope--and pray that if the time comes in my lifetime that I will have that strength that so many have had before me.
How little we remember that those we view as standing in the way of that, or an obstacle to overcome, or someone who must be eliminated are probably viewing us in in the same way, for the same reasons.
If those we face across from us are free from corruption (at least as much as any of us are) and are not tainted with the forbidden (and certainly we must be very careful that our assessment on that matter is correct), I do wonder how things would be different if we just kept in mind that the desires of the one we are in conflict with may well be ones that we share. Would that be enough, in that step back, to extend a little more patience, to work a little harder, to think a little more clearly?
Do not worry, I am not holding my breath. Instead I pray that we will have the strength to do just that, to hold, acknowledge, and then set aside our fears and desires for gratification and worries about who is getting the greater measure in order to join together when we need to do so. Thus far, we have always been able to do so. We are, after all this time, still standing.
There are many times that I look at my hands and see the blood upon them, that I remember those past that I have lost or faced and won that day in a hollow victory, the times when I returned from seeing horrors and wondering why it was not me that was accepted into the arms of the Queen of Endings. But then I remember. Despite our terrible natures towards each other, when we have needed each other, truly, it seems we have always been able to find the strength together to rise and face what needs to be faced, no matter how our alliances might shift over tens, hundreds, thousands of years. And I find hope--and pray that if the time comes in my lifetime that I will have that strength that so many have had before me.
Written By Ouida
April 7, 2019, 4 p.m.(11/18/1010 AR)
The Great Hunt went well--we had a good number of those who travelled a great distance to join in. No major injuries to report, other than someone getting bitten by an angry squirrel and then a poor lord and his entourage that got lost in the fog--though even that had a rather happy ending as another hunting party found and rescued them, so in truth we had no stragglers even when the Hunt Master sounded the final horn. I was elated to see my dear Duchess-Consort Lisebet surrounded by her new family, as well as the lovely Lady Elsbetta. It seems that those that attended enjoyed themselves immensely. And I enjoyed seeing Orvyn away from his work (not that he did not bring it with him, I do not think anyone can separate it from him, in truth), and to spend some much longed for time with my sweet sister-by-marriage Sunniva.
I am glad that Lord Andreas and I took a few extra days after the Great Hunt to spend in Fair Harbour. Harvest time is a wonderful time to be here, though I think it was a little colder than Lord Andreas is accustomed to, it lent itself well to travelling to the smaller villages and outposts to visit with cousins and merchant families, as well as an opportunity to see what the rougher seas brought to the shore. Treasure hunting like this was always a favorite pastime when Orvyn and Odhran and I were children, and I cannot say that it did not have its delights still, especially as we were accompanied many times by cousins great and small and the younger children of the villages. I even tried to seek out an old friend, though I wasn't successful this time. I gave leave, that is to say made it nonnegotiable, for Niall to spend one more week with his family after our departure, as a gift to his mother, and we enjoyed one night's hospitality in the Red Trees' village, as well as visiting with those nearby.
When it was time to go, I actually found myself with a brief pang of reluctance. Is this what getting older does to a person, I wonder.
The seas on our return were starting to show the promise of winter's roughness, but for once it was of little concern to spend most of the journey below decks.
I am glad that Lord Andreas and I took a few extra days after the Great Hunt to spend in Fair Harbour. Harvest time is a wonderful time to be here, though I think it was a little colder than Lord Andreas is accustomed to, it lent itself well to travelling to the smaller villages and outposts to visit with cousins and merchant families, as well as an opportunity to see what the rougher seas brought to the shore. Treasure hunting like this was always a favorite pastime when Orvyn and Odhran and I were children, and I cannot say that it did not have its delights still, especially as we were accompanied many times by cousins great and small and the younger children of the villages. I even tried to seek out an old friend, though I wasn't successful this time. I gave leave, that is to say made it nonnegotiable, for Niall to spend one more week with his family after our departure, as a gift to his mother, and we enjoyed one night's hospitality in the Red Trees' village, as well as visiting with those nearby.
When it was time to go, I actually found myself with a brief pang of reluctance. Is this what getting older does to a person, I wonder.
The seas on our return were starting to show the promise of winter's roughness, but for once it was of little concern to spend most of the journey below decks.
Written By Ouida
April 7, 2019, 12:48 p.m.(11/18/1010 AR)
When I was a little girl, I often felt out of place. A giant who towered over her brothers, at least until they became men. Too wiggly and impulsive for my kind lady-mother--not the daughter who would be still for elaborate braids and who sighed for beautiful gowns and jewels. Too distracted for my lord father, with dreams and softer things.
It was on the field that I found my rhythm, and the cadence for my days. This is in no way to romanticize what I experienced there. What I did there. Though never did I step outside the bounds laid down for me by oath and intent, the truth of the matter is that nobody except those who have made their livelihood in blood will ever really understand. Sometimes it is shallow, to be sure, but there is a camaraderie there that is hard to explain. And if one allows it to grow deeper, then there is the ever present knowledge that the ones you name friend may be the ones that you will be called upon to battle, when some lord's banners are called. Some grow hollow at this. Others learn to grasp every moment of pleasure and connection, knowing of its inevitable shattering. Many never have the chance to even face it, struck down early.
It is not that I longed for the field when Orvyn recalled me to Arx. What I am is what I am, and I have little cause for shame regardless of what memories I carry. Though I enjoyed the city, and sleeping in a comfortable bed, and being surrounded by beautiful and silver-tongued women and men, and to find new friendships with those who share my vocation and those who do not, there was something missing.
I am not sure what to think of myself or of the world now that I feel that familiar cadence as things rise throughout Arvum, and I slip so easily into it as if it were a familiar glove. It ties so many things together. I used to long for other people to understand me, but I think perhaps that it is better to simply cherish what I have now. I am grateful to find pleasure in duty, that allows me to be the shield for those I love when it is needed. There is pleasure in knowing that by oath and someday by blood a connection between friends grows to an alliance. I am grateful to know that my training has not been in vain, though there is a part of me that grieves that I doubt I shall ever see a time where it is never needed.
As for the girl who once had dreams both heroic and sweet...oh how many crossroads we all face in our lives. Sometimes peace comes with understanding what we sacrifice, so that others may continue to dream, and still more will dream and build after we are in our graves. Everything in its own time. Perhaps it will not be long before new dreams rise to take the place of the old.
It was on the field that I found my rhythm, and the cadence for my days. This is in no way to romanticize what I experienced there. What I did there. Though never did I step outside the bounds laid down for me by oath and intent, the truth of the matter is that nobody except those who have made their livelihood in blood will ever really understand. Sometimes it is shallow, to be sure, but there is a camaraderie there that is hard to explain. And if one allows it to grow deeper, then there is the ever present knowledge that the ones you name friend may be the ones that you will be called upon to battle, when some lord's banners are called. Some grow hollow at this. Others learn to grasp every moment of pleasure and connection, knowing of its inevitable shattering. Many never have the chance to even face it, struck down early.
It is not that I longed for the field when Orvyn recalled me to Arx. What I am is what I am, and I have little cause for shame regardless of what memories I carry. Though I enjoyed the city, and sleeping in a comfortable bed, and being surrounded by beautiful and silver-tongued women and men, and to find new friendships with those who share my vocation and those who do not, there was something missing.
I am not sure what to think of myself or of the world now that I feel that familiar cadence as things rise throughout Arvum, and I slip so easily into it as if it were a familiar glove. It ties so many things together. I used to long for other people to understand me, but I think perhaps that it is better to simply cherish what I have now. I am grateful to find pleasure in duty, that allows me to be the shield for those I love when it is needed. There is pleasure in knowing that by oath and someday by blood a connection between friends grows to an alliance. I am grateful to know that my training has not been in vain, though there is a part of me that grieves that I doubt I shall ever see a time where it is never needed.
As for the girl who once had dreams both heroic and sweet...oh how many crossroads we all face in our lives. Sometimes peace comes with understanding what we sacrifice, so that others may continue to dream, and still more will dream and build after we are in our graves. Everything in its own time. Perhaps it will not be long before new dreams rise to take the place of the old.
Written By Ouida
March 17, 2019, 6:34 p.m.(10/4/1010 AR)
The personal oath is written, and stares back at me upon the page.
It occurs to me that in my life I have sworn many oaths, and upheld them through joy or suffering, but that it has been my privilege to have always given my oath to one who is known to me and who has earned--at least insofar as my eyes and mind may take their measure--my word.
Not so this time. This time, with approval, we shall both place our trust, at least, initially, not because of each other, but to whom we belong and were born to. As has happened over and over again, with every generation before us. How normal this appears, and right. And yet, there are the words, stark upon ivory parchment. I wonder if my mother and her mother and her mother and her mother before her, and beyond, felt the same way. Not sad. Not without hope or excitement. But alone and vulnerable, despite knowing that all of us, regardless of name or staying or going, face it alone even as we weave something greater together with duty and dreams.
When things are difficult, I shall return to this place and remember. In all likelihood he also will have sat at his table, staring at words upon the page, to be given to another that has not yet earned that trust. May the gods grant peace, and may I remember grace. And duty.
It occurs to me that in my life I have sworn many oaths, and upheld them through joy or suffering, but that it has been my privilege to have always given my oath to one who is known to me and who has earned--at least insofar as my eyes and mind may take their measure--my word.
Not so this time. This time, with approval, we shall both place our trust, at least, initially, not because of each other, but to whom we belong and were born to. As has happened over and over again, with every generation before us. How normal this appears, and right. And yet, there are the words, stark upon ivory parchment. I wonder if my mother and her mother and her mother and her mother before her, and beyond, felt the same way. Not sad. Not without hope or excitement. But alone and vulnerable, despite knowing that all of us, regardless of name or staying or going, face it alone even as we weave something greater together with duty and dreams.
When things are difficult, I shall return to this place and remember. In all likelihood he also will have sat at his table, staring at words upon the page, to be given to another that has not yet earned that trust. May the gods grant peace, and may I remember grace. And duty.
Written By Ouida
March 10, 2019, 9:41 p.m.(9/18/1010 AR)
I am not a sentimental person in general, for my parents, now that they are both gone. But of late, how I have wished for an opportunity to sit down and speak with my mother, about so many upcoming things.
Written By Ouida
March 3, 2019, 9:35 p.m.(9/4/1010 AR)
These last weeks have been mostly occupied by a journey to the southern islands, and a brief but quite pleasant meeting. I almost feared that I would not make it back in time for my dear cousin's wedding, but I should have known better than to doubt the promises of a Fair Harbour captain and crew! The last night from the journey, however, I was woken from my sleep with the lingering remembrances of freezing cold, and it lingered so, not even the warm summer breeze upon the seas could thaw it, and the sparse clouds that veiled the stars here and there as I stood upon the deck looking at their expanse seemed almost like a winter's fog, to my mind.
Written By Ouida
Feb. 17, 2019, 5:29 p.m.(8/4/1010 AR)
More visions or dreams that seem so real and tangible, to steal my sleep and turn my thoughts towards looking towards our future through the veil of very distant and dormant memories of a life only partially remembered. Will I be able to be as strong, and help defend what I love now as well? I pray for the wisdom and strength of what the gods teach and remind us of daily, and for those that might wish to come alongside me--or allow me to come alongside them--to make it so.
Written By Ouida
Feb. 10, 2019, 3:23 p.m.(7/18/1010 AR)
Though this particular duty and the shape it would take was spoken of and the expectation made quite clear to all three of us from the time I can first remember, and I have seen and indirectly reaped the benefits of it done well by all accounts, in both attention to oath and generosity, though it is good and expected and exciting in many ways of its own merit...
There is still something that feels quite perilous in entrusting one of the foundations of one's future going forward to the hands half of those who know and love you well, and half to those who are relative strangers. Luckily I am neither overly fond nor afraid of risk, and there are few things that please me more than to see bonds of friendship and allyship deepened.
May the gods grant and illuminate for me strength and compassion, attention to duty and an open-heartedness as well, in the beginning of a new journey soon undertaken.
There is still something that feels quite perilous in entrusting one of the foundations of one's future going forward to the hands half of those who know and love you well, and half to those who are relative strangers. Luckily I am neither overly fond nor afraid of risk, and there are few things that please me more than to see bonds of friendship and allyship deepened.
May the gods grant and illuminate for me strength and compassion, attention to duty and an open-heartedness as well, in the beginning of a new journey soon undertaken.
Written By Ouida
Feb. 3, 2019, 2:07 p.m.(7/4/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Reigna
Like most other things in life, the answer seems to be "it depends."
There is almost always a reason for the path taken to achieve a result. It may be forced, or the result of incompetence, or ignorance or a carefully weighed choice. Sometimes one envisions a certain way to be the most efficient or the kindest, only to find that their calculation was catastrophically wrong, or even worse, it turns out wonderfully by fiat and so they are too self-congratulatory later and they pay dearly for it when they try it again.
I find as one who seeks to uphold personal and family honor in everything I do, even if it has nothing to do with my official obligations, that I must always try to examine the means to an end, with the knowledge that I am an imperfect and inadequate person when it comes to forseeing every possibililty and understanding every nuance. I do my best to achieve the ends with as little suffering or harm caused to others. And then I must live with and move through the consequences of it. Including facing and bearing witness to the suffering that those choices incur, regardless of my intent or the "greater good." Sometimes this means that I change the "end." Sometimes it means that I choose different "means."
Most of the time, I know that I will be kneeling in prayer or in asking another for their forgiveness because intent is little comfort to those who have suffered as a result of even the best "means."
There is almost always a reason for the path taken to achieve a result. It may be forced, or the result of incompetence, or ignorance or a carefully weighed choice. Sometimes one envisions a certain way to be the most efficient or the kindest, only to find that their calculation was catastrophically wrong, or even worse, it turns out wonderfully by fiat and so they are too self-congratulatory later and they pay dearly for it when they try it again.
I find as one who seeks to uphold personal and family honor in everything I do, even if it has nothing to do with my official obligations, that I must always try to examine the means to an end, with the knowledge that I am an imperfect and inadequate person when it comes to forseeing every possibililty and understanding every nuance. I do my best to achieve the ends with as little suffering or harm caused to others. And then I must live with and move through the consequences of it. Including facing and bearing witness to the suffering that those choices incur, regardless of my intent or the "greater good." Sometimes this means that I change the "end." Sometimes it means that I choose different "means."
Most of the time, I know that I will be kneeling in prayer or in asking another for their forgiveness because intent is little comfort to those who have suffered as a result of even the best "means."
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.