I dressed myself properly today - for the first time in cycles - and then I stepped out into the swamp air. Just like that. I didn't truly know where I was going. With the immediate biting chill of the air my first thought was anywhere with a warm fireplace. Though, I couldn't stomach the thought of the Inn quite so soon. Everywhere with warm fires seemed very public. And I am not mended enough for such as of yet. So, I just walked...

I had thought to go down the Plains, and sit amongst the tall grass that blows down the dunes. Though, as I passed, I noticed that the gateway to the cemetery was still unlocked. So, curiosity got the better of me, and I strayed inside. I walked between the tombstones, and read their inscriptions. I had wondered, in fact, if there might be a stone of my own here among the names. But I did not find one. The thought sent me back to Alfred, and our ramblings of death. I said that I would like to be buried, so then people would visit me, and bring me flowers. But, there is no stone for me here. Not yet, at least.

I went deeper. Down into the Ossuary. And now I fear I am quite trapped. Funny. I left the Mausoleum at last, only to find myself interred in another tomb. Well, it's not funny at all, actually. I am sure I will grow quite panicked when dark draws in, and I am still trapped down here. My fingers are already very cold. Maybe I will lay here forever, along with the other forgotten things.

Oh. Good heavens! What a morbid thought. I really ought to stop that. I am sure all will be well, journal. I will send a bird out to an Enchanter. Zelele or Falx. And I am sure I shall be liberated before the marc is out.

I've been in far worse states. Or at least, that is what I keep telling myself. When I left home before, I did so entirely alone. I did not have this luxury of a place to go. I fear, however, that mayhaps it has done me no good at all. Maybe if my feet had kept on moving, I would not have stagnated like I have. Or maybe that is just wishful thinking? I do not know. But cycles have passed, journal, and I still have not pulled myself together.

My shame is immeasurable. Some nights, when I lay abed, I resolve that I will pack up my bag on the morrow, and march myself back off to Branishor. Pull myself up by the bootstraps, and get back to business. I ought to be defending the Holy City. Watching from the tower. Attending the temple. But each turn, when the rifter rises, the task seems so massive - so gargantuan -that I simply cannot face it. It seems to me like climbing a mountain. Or swimming through ice water. Branishor might as well be upon the surface of the moon, for how accessible it seems to me. It is much too big. Too big to even think of.

Today, I did manage to walk into Dundee. And that was a needs must - for, you see, I had run out of beer, and needed to restock. There is no Swashbuckler here; with kegs rolled up the cobbles from the docks most every other quarter-cycle. So, I had to go out and fend for myself. I drink too much. I know. I've long known. These turns, I only feel halfway decent when I've got a few cups in my belly. I feel sickly most of the morning, until I've had my fill. I know that is an exceedingly bad thing. I do know - I do. But it is like the Branishor conundrum; another gargantuan mountain, of which I am he too weak to climb. I am unabashedly kind to myself, am I not? To permit myself so many relinquishments.

It is almost Fall Fest. It begins in just a few turns time, and I cannot help but reflect how exceedingly strange it feels not to be making preparations with Bris. No. Not strange. That is not what I feel - I feel sad. So terribly sad. I am forlorn and grieved. Home was the place where I lived with Bris. I have written it before - Home is the place where I live with Bris. It is gone now. But, oh, how I miss that time, and that place. I am so heartsick for home. I don't think I've ever missed anything with such veracity before. Had I known, this time last year, just how things would've turned out, I would never have believed it.

Kairiel visited the lands briefly a few cycles ago; back during the summer. She found me, here in her halls; squatted, as I am. In fact, I have taken up her very cotbed as my own - the one I had written about before, in the dining hall, by the fire. Though, she sat with me awhile, and assured me that she did not mind it - was good that it was being used again, even. And she assured me too, that here, this place, was a place for the lost and the down-and-outs. It was a place for the warts and all, as she called it. So, Kairiel reckoned that mayhaps I had, somehow, found my way to entirely the place where I ought to be. I do find great comfort in those words, and I'd do well to remember them. For the road might seem rocky at present, but I must hang onto the belief that I am heading in the direction of where I truly ought to be.

I feel quite out of place in these halls. I've visited often enough, and stayed as a guest. But never unattended - never familiar enough to wander them alone. But here I am now in the early morning, and I am all by myself. Everything is black and red. And red and black. Wrought iron and cold marble. Red. Black. Leather. Kitchen in disarray. Ghosts watch me from the walls.

Seems cavernous in here. I walked in search of a garden, but found none. I looked for a tower next, but found only tunnels. There are no high and lofty perches here, no - in fact, this hall is subterranean. The exact opposite of which I am accustomed. There is no chapel or laundry either. The air is swampy and the rooms are dark and I've never felt further from home. There were no leaves to make tea in the kitchen this morning. And I realised I'd left my favourite mug when I packed. Which was a silly thing to cry over, at such an early marc in the turn.

I sound terribly ungrateful. I know that I am lucky. I must pull myself together and claw myself out of this slump. There is one corner that I did like. There is a strange little cotbed in the dining hall, over by the fireplace. Right next to it is a keg of ale and cups. I don't think that I'd mind sitting there and doing my lone drinking. I won't have any clouds to watch; nor stars come night. I won't get to watch my breath fog and feel the benefit of the warmth more keenly when I come back inside. But it looks like a comfortable little corner, all the same.

My shame has kept me confined here for near a quarter cycle now. Brisingr did not respond to my letter. I fear I've broken a lot of things beyond repair. Though, one of my former sisters did still come and speak to me - to tell me that there was a Demon in Lillya's halls.

Alfred has made suggestion of a farm. Apparently, he knows of an abandoned one, up somewhere in the mountains. I confess, I am intrigued by the idea. I am only a hobby gardener, and it sounds far beyond my capabilities. But Alfred has said that he will help me. A joint venture. I think it will do me good. A quiet place to toil beneath the 'rifter. Tire my body and my mind. It would get me out of this hall too. Nobody wants to look at a sad Cleric all day long. I should get out. Likely I'll enjoy my beer upon the fireside cot all the better if I do.

A lost page from May~

I am writing from a place that I haven't frequented in a long while - the canopy above the Dark Forest. I used to come here a lot. Suppose I liked the peace; sitting up in the limbs of trees and watching the world below. It is especially good at this time of year too, because the trees have all of their leaves on, so you're rendered quite wonderfully hidden.

I remember that Angus would come and prowl about the base of the trees and call up for me to come down. He was too burly to do the climbing. I remember him falling the one time that he tried. So he'd call up to me, M'Lady Bo! And I'd come shimmying down.

I wasn't even a Lady back then. Just Bo. Just a girl, really. This turn I sit in the tree as a woman and a lady by title. And I don't need to come down from my perch for anybody. I need only please myself - as Avedis so often tells me. I am giving diligent practise to the art of being selfish.

Thus far, I am finding the endeavour to be pleasant in the extreme. We're only a cycle in by now. The honeymoon period, as I've heard it called. And true enough, everything is honey-sweet, and I keep right on gorging myself. What a beautiful, abundant start to the summer. I hope I am still so happy and fat come autumn. I believe that I will be. Though, on the off-chance that I am not, I will be sure to eat my fill now.

Speaking of eating, Alfred's mum sent me cookies. Mint-choc chip. They were very good. I hadn't seen Alfred in awhile so I'd wrote to him. Turns out he is back at his home farm along with his family. Alfred's mum must be very old. I must send her my thanks.

I attended a bonding yesterturn; that of Polaris and Sakura. I cannot claim to know Polaris awfully well, but Sakura I have known long enough. They did not hold the ceremony at a temple or Chapel, but rather outdoors along by lake Valorn. It was rather a pretty spot with red flowers growing. I had never been there before; usually, I sit upon the other side of the banks, where the flowers grow blue. Polaris said that it was a fitting spot for them, because it was where they had their first impromptu picnic. I thought that was rather lovely. It had been so long since I last attended a bonding, and I do love to see love.

For bonding gifts I gave them a ruby and a sapphire. They were my very last from that Trove that was found, and I had been saving them for a special enough occasion. I had thought to gift them jewelry instead. But I could not find anything in the shops in Ryndall that I liked.

Avedis came along with me yesterturn as my plus one. And he did eyeball me for giving such gifts. But, other than that, he was quite well behaved. It was our first public outing since everything changed between us. And I do admit I was a little worried. Not worried for his unruliness! But rather, suppose I was nervous over the newness of it all. I wasn't sure how I ought to be or act. I usually go to such gatherings alone, and suppose I've grown accustomed to it. But it was well, and I needn't have worried at all.

I had remarked to him the other turn that beside him I felt like a little speckled hen to his resplendent rooster. That is how birds are. The males are always more showy. I do feel like a hen bird most turns; all homely, and comfortable in my nest. Though Avedis reckons I am not a hen at all, but a dove; that we are both indeed birds, but are merely of a different genus. Suppose he might well be right. We do both seem to be of the same mind.

Polaris said that she had met Sakura by pure chance in the market, and that they'd had their picnic after that. I first met Avedis during the efforts to clean and restore the Life Monuments in Dundee. And, I confess, I thought him the most work-shy fop I had ever met. I certainly would not have invited him to a picnic after that. But, suppose I came to learn that there are higher virtues than steadfastness, stalwartness and gallantry - though, I do still think that Avedis is all of those things. Though, he is them in his own way, rather than in anybody else's. But, mayhaps I had come to value other things too without realising. Effortlessness, enlivening and enthusiasm. Passion and verve and laughter. And I am a different sort of bird, when I am along with him.

Tis not often that I feel beautiful. Truth be told it is not something that I afforded much thought to before. I bathed, combed my hair and cleaned my teeth. I own eight dresses in total (which sounds rather a frivolous amount when I write it like that!) But two are summer dresses; one blue with dandelions, and the other gifted from Bris. Three are dusty old ball gowns from Dragon Balls gone and passed. And the rest are my general garb, that I cycle through from turn to turn.

There is only one time I recall feeling indubitably beautiful before, and that was when I attended my first first Dragon Ball. Nobody danced with me, or told me so, or anything like that. Prince Charming did not come, and I never lost a slipper. But, I felt it nonetheless. It was fantastically real to me. It was the first time I'd ever worn something frivolous. It was the first time I'd ever bought a gown and thought to have it fashioned for me; for how I would like to look, and feel. And it was rather wondrous. So, I suppose that is why the occasion sticks so firmly in my head.

Though, would you believe, journal, that just the other turn, I was elevated into being the most beautiful girl in the lands again? And, I was wearing naught but my regular clothes? Just the same dress that I always wear, with the same boots and the same grey stockings beneath. But magic happened in the mausoleum. The 'rifter shone upon me and all of my petals opened. And now, I am sure that I know all of the secrets of the very universe itself. I've never been privy to such knowing before. Suppose other people knew, and suppose that I thought that I did too. Though I know now that I was mistaken; I only ever saw shadows and outlines. Never was I once transcended to here; to the real.

Everything else seems a pale imitation. I had gone to the mausoleum expecting to die there; only to discover that I am, in fact, still very much alive. My heart runs like a river; all of my veins are full of life and verve. I still cannot scarcely believe the turn of events. I cannot believe it. It is all too beautiful. He is too beautiful.

Dreaming is a dangerous pastime. When left unchecked, they have the tendency to grow wings and fly away with themselves. Long ago, I think I learned to temper my dreams, and to make them smaller. I reduced them to mundane, ordinary things. No longer were they creatures of wonder. There is no disappointment, you see, if you dream of the ordinary. We get what we deserve, and what is coming to us, and the unremarkable is not too much to ask.

So, I'd dream of parties and festivals and things I knew that I could get. Though, admittedly some turns, I would dream of the wildly fantastical; of my towers and princes and such. Albeit, I never did truly believe. So the heartache never did come along with those. Once, I even dreamt that I was in love with Tamsin Millwright. A delightful but unobtainable notion. But that little dream kept me plodding along for a few quiet cycles.

I remarked to Alfred that I think I might be dead. I had told him before that when I die, I wanted to be interred in a nice burial mound. So that people would visit me and bring me flowers. Well, I've had the visitors, and the flowers. I've fallen in love with a ghost. I wear spectral chainmail. My veins are lilac and my hands are always cold. I even visit at a mausoleum, and sometimes, I even sleep there.

Mayhaps it is the fate of many of our kind. That we become more ghosts than we are people. Perhaps I am already dead? Perhaps that is why the calibre of my dreams have changed; once small and scurrying, and now, romping unchecked through grasping, empty halls.

I awoke this morning to two letters. The first was from Bebhinn. She said that she'd heard of my visit to Strom and my finding the little dragon. She said that she was there for its making, and it was Bris who had created it. He had created it as a gift to Strom, who was mourning the passing of the Goddess Jane. Bebhinn said that she too had tried to contact Bris, but to no avail.

The second letter was from Alfred, who has apparently relocated camp. So, I shall go and visit with him there. I want to tell him about the little dragon carving.

And after that, I will go to the mausoleum again.

I forgot to write about it last time. But while I was away with Alfred, there was a wooden carving of a Dragon along near where Strom is camped. It provoked us to wonder who'd made it. I would wager that it was one of my guildkin. Lavender supposed that it was likely Bris that was the dragon's maker. Though, I've never known him work in wood before. Metal was his preference.

Was. I wrote of him in the past tense just now. Was. Though truly, I think he has vanished now. Perhaps for good; though hopefully not. There has been no sight nor sound from him. No further correspondence or word. I only hope that wherever he may be, my oldest of friends is at peace. Our halls fell silent. Joyfire left us also. Once, someturn, one of my guildkin carved a Dragon in wood and left it in the Verth. A relic. Some turns I feel quite the same as that little dragon in the woods.

For a wrenching moment, I thought I'd be the last of us. But it is not so. Viviyana and Synvasti remain unwaveringly on. So, I needn't be alone. The thought of it immediately brought Avedis to mind. How he says he lives in a mausoleum. For his halls are empty and unused. The halls of The Remnants teetered in the same manner. And it provoked me to think, what would I do if I was left here? Would I look from the tower, light the fires and stay here forever more among the ghosts? Would I still man the fort and hold up the walls to keep them from crumbling?

I don't know. I don't. To what end would such a fate be? For whom would I be committing to? Is there any reason why people sit dying in old places? Suppose I might stay because these halls are my home. The only home I've ever known. I love the chapel and the garden, and the tower and the docks. Suppose I would stay because the bed here is my own, and the place has a familiar smell. Suppose people stay in old places in the hope that the lost might find them again. Tis like the Princess in the Tower all over again. Mayhaps everyone likes to privately believe that someone, anyone, would come crawling through thorns to find them again. Just for them, with their bellies all torn for their efforts.

I am speaking in circles. None of this matters because I am not alone. Forgive me, journal, for tarrying for time. But, there are other worries troubling me which I'm less eager to commit to parchment. Truthfully, I am not sure how to even begin dissecting those.

Suppose I could begin by saying that I wish I was young again. With youth came fearlessness - or mayhaps foolhardiness is the better word. But either way, I knew no better and would throw myself headfirst into whichever folly or fray took my fancy. Not like now. Now I am tentative and old. Now, I remember the scuffs and the hurts, and I have more care of myself. Being old makes you afraid, I think. I remember the pains of turns passed, and I remember the recovery times. I daresay now, my recuperation would be much harder won. Healing is more arduous with age.

The hurt that plagues me; the one who's coming I dread. I do not know if I would ever recover. I suppose, either way, I will find myself irrevocably changed. For better, or for worse.

Are we enough we ask. All or nothing we say. Nothing. Imagine if we truly are nothing? What if that is the conclusion that we inevitably come to? However will I recover from such a verdict? How I am to live knowing that I am nothing, and even in giving my best, I was never enough?

I haven't written in awhile. My sentiments stand as the last time I wrote however; it is all change. But, it is getting better.

I strayed away from home for awhile. When I last left you, I was in the Grasslands. Bris wrote me a letter. I had been away for a turn or two when he wrote me. I recognised the scrawl of his hand and the emblem of our family immediately. He wrote that he had been away, but that now he was returned. He complained of his head being foggy, unhappy tidings, but warm greetings. I wrote back citing my gladness of his return. I told him that I was away, but that I hoped I would see him somewhere along the road. Though, thus far, the Gods have not permitted our paths to cross.

I stayed in the Grasslands for awhile. I was only there for a turn or two before Avedis came and joined me. He brought a liquor bottle and we slept beneath the stars. We spoke about many things. And I found myself flip-flopping. From sad to happy, and happy to sad. And so on, and so forth. I didn't cry. Though, sometimes a stone of sadness sat in my stomach. I did laugh though. I laughed often. And I even sang once.

After that, Alfred and I navigated the cliffs to Verge forest, to the place where the Cleric named Strom dwells. I don't know what it was, but it seems as though the fellow had stirred up some sort of feeling in Alfred of which he wished to share. I slept there in that camp for two turns. Upon the morning of the first turn, I was awoken with flowers. A thank you. I gave Alfred diamonds, and he gave me blossoms. Kindness brings kindness, and giving begets giving. It is not always the case. I do not think that we always get what we deserve. But on this turn, the equation worked out as it ought.

Then, before I knew it, the first turn of spring was upon us. It was time to clear the pumpkin patch, and replant the garden. So, I returned home. A host of adventurers came to lend their aid, and it did warm my heart to have so many offers. The task was rather large, and it would've taken me many turns to accomplish alone. But still, the job is done now, and everybody returned to their respective halls. Everybody went home and I remained here. I am still here.

I've arrived in the Grasslands. I slept in the rooms above Dundee inn last night and set out first thing this morning. I packed sandwiches and boiled eggs and lemonade for drinking, and I just set out. Just like that.

I could've gone by ferry and lessened my journey, but I opted instead to walk. I don't know, suppose I just wanted to. Just so I could be moving. I look at the mountains so often from Branishor, but it is a rare turn that I walk them. There is nobody about to please but myself, so I shall do as I like. I rather enjoyed the walk.

The Grasslands is flatter that I remembered. Though, now Fartown is gone. I think the township still stood the last time I came. But yes, it is very flat and wide. I like the smell of the grass, and the air feels much warmer down here. There are more people about than I anticipated. People from the ABV and some bandits and such. I haven't paid them much mind; nor them I. I came here for the quiet, so that is how it shall be.

Suppose I'd best write about the Nexus repair that happened yestereve. Well, it was not repaired at all actually - we somehow managed to break it even moreso. Though, it was not intentional, of course. I believe everyone did try their best. And, for what it is worth, for a moment it felt as though our efforts were truly working. But it did not work. In fact it went rather horribly wrong. The broken pillar to Branishor blew up in my face. I was standing with my hands resting upon it, and was chanting my memory aloud. I don't know where it came from, but the memory of Thorne telling me a story in the tower came to the forefront of my mind. So that is what I channeled and spoke about.

The stone hit me hard. And I think mayhaps I was rather concussed for the remainder of the evening. Everyone went back to the Inn to yell at one another. I didn't partake in the yelling; only the ale. Though through the din I heard somebody say that when the pillar went up, Alfred had tried to shield me from the blow. Though, he was not fast enough, and he hurt himself in doing so. But, I do remember that. Even if I did not witness it; I heard of it. And I thought it an important thing, that even through all of that yelling and discord, that I heard that little slither of kindness that had been bestowed to me. I will not soon forget it.

Anyway, the night wore on, and people came and went. And I stayed and drank and drank. Lowrenzo arrived and he told us all tales from back when he was a young lad, no bigger than a squirrel - which are my most favourite stories to hear. He told us of a man he once knew who claimed to have eaten all of the horses in the lands! And how I laughed. Alfred went off full restless energy; saying he was going to wrestle with wolves. Rhalia and Viviyana snoozed together in the corner, with arms wrapped about each other. After his tales, Lowrenzo told me that he had located Bris, as I had asked him to. And he said that he had told him that I had been looking for him, and that he should go home.

And, that made me sad again. Because I knew then. I knew. There is no supposing; only knowing.

Anyway, what I mean to say is, I believe I am quite done with waiting now.

He told me that he loved me. Though, he said that he would only tell me once, so I'd better commit the occasion to memory. But still, he told me that he loved me. I will never forget; I never could. Not many people have loved me. Or rather, if they did, they have not readily confessed it. But he told me. He knelt at my feet and he told me so.

So I kissed him upon the head. And he upon my hands. Then we both went to our respective beds and slept. The following morning, I left as I had planned. And he wrote me a letter, wishing that my adventures were as grand as I dreamt them up to be.

But I haven't been anywhere at all. Not really. I strayed into our neighbour's hall, the one that belongs to The Vanguard. Nobody was home. So I looked at their kitchen, and their chapel and tower. Their tower didn't seem as high as the one we have. I could see our hometower, winking at me across the distance. I thought then that this would be a sad place to remain; so near, yet so far. The Vanguard live in a castle not all that dissimilar to our own. But you can tell that only men dwell there now.

I haven't been anywhere at all. Though, I can't yet flee, because I would only need return again to play my part in the Nexus repairs later this turn. I've stationed myself along beside the water, where the purple flowers grow. I am waiting here until they need me. I still don't want to go home. So, I am waiting here.

I get what I deserve, I suppose. You should never make houses out of people.

I spent the evening giving out jewels. Great big, fat ones; bigger than my head. It was nice. Lovely, even. I felt like a Fairy Godmother or some such, handing out little flecks of joy. I even met some people whom I'd never met before. That Ivan Iza seems like a nice fellow, and a Cleric like me too. He only took two jewels and would not take anymore. I think I will look in on him again sometime.

I did keep a few for myself, and bartered them to Haggie. Though, a few jewels I have kept back in my pack. I thought to slip them into some Initiate's packs when they're not looking. Mind you, one or two are reserved for Alfred. He did not come to have a pillage, so I will save him some. He visited me at our halls last night, to give me my Winter's Warming presents as he had missed me during the festival. I was very glad to see him. Cheered my spirits right up. Though, I'd already been plied with spirits courtesy of Viviyana; so my spirits were already undoubtedly lifted.

It had been another one of those funny turns before that. I had been cross with someone. And, in turn, I had grown cross with myself over it. You see, I never told them how they had made me feel. I never told them that they had hurt my feelings. I still haven't told them. I am unsure if I will. I mean, likely I should. But? you see, there is the stickler. I am awfully good at keeping the peace. At not making a fuss. I am good at diminishing myself and writing my own wants and feelings off as paltry and silly. Maybe I had no right to be upset at all?

There is the stickler. It is easy to speak up for another; much harder to do it for yourself. Though, as I sat and drank with Viviyana, that old saying came to mind; when somebody shows you who they are, you ought to believe them the first time. So, suppose it is high time I started believing.

I remember a few cycles back, Alfred and I had a discussion about the importance of platonic love. It was just a silly little talk, really. When the marc is late and Alfred and I sit together, we are prone to waffle on. I do like it though; waffling with Alfred. But yes, we spoke about platonic love. It was a love I hadn't given much thought to before. Suppose it hasn't as much pizazz as romance. We care a lot about romantic love when we are young. At least, I did. Though, suppose we all want for somebody to love us. That is all anybody wants, I think.

But, it seems to me that platonic love is a longer, more enduring sort of love. I've never had a romantic love that's lasted. And furthermore, such love seems to have the tendency to destroy all other feelings, tender and pure, when it leaves us. Platonic love is a more sturdy and steadfast sort of thing. It is a love that can be relied upon. And now, I am older and wiser, I have finally come to appreciate my platonic loves, and give them the recognition that they so deserve.

I always said that home is the place where I live with Bris. Though now he is away, our halls feel like a house and not a home to me. I remarked as such to Viviyana just the other turn. I said that I couldn't abide sitting up in my usual perch of the lookout tower, knowing full well that he was not in his study below. I've never felt such loneliness before. But I feel his absence keenly. It is not even as though we've never been apart before. But I suppose he was only a messenger bird away before. When he was off roving, and would come home full of cobwebs. Or if I was away, watching the walls of Branishor, we would write to each other. Envelopes sealed with wax in the crest of our house. I would recognise the scrawl of his hand, and remind him to sleep carefully and take time for tea.

Anyway, I went and did it and left. Not truly, I mean. I do intend to come home again. Though, for the time being Avedis is putting me up in his halls. He has relinquished his own quarters for me to use, and has built himself a bed upon the couches along the hall. A kinder friend I could not hope for. Though, I have assured him I won't overstay my welcome. And anyway, I have grand plans to rove.

I wrote of the Grasslands last time. Which I still intend to visit. But, Viviyana gifted me three doorway crystals, so I could go all the way to Ethucan if I liked! I might go on the road, and follow Blue Shuck and his band around. Or mayhaps I'll go and live on sunny Kilican for a cycle. Maybe, I'll stay with another friend in their halls; mayhaps Alfred, or Lillya would be glad to have me along. Or maybe Bris will come home again, and he will take me camping in the mountains like we talked about. We shall see.

I took off my Winter's Warming Jumper this morning. I fell asleep in it last night after attending the lantern ceremony. The ceremony marks the end of the festivities. So, that is that; all over and done with for another year. A half cycle of Winter's Warming. Not that long, really. Though, I feel like a different woman now to the one who'd first donned that jumper just a little while ago.

I keep mentioning these strange and sad feelings. And, again, this Winter's Warming was rife with them. There I was in the courtyard of the Caer with my sisters about my sides, and I should've felt happier. Though, there was that melancholy about me. It's followed me around for rather a few turns now. My sisters were about my sides, but my brother was absent. I've felt his absence more sharply than I expected. Mayhaps that is usual in the early turns of such a thing. I am not sure. Maybe over time the feeling will shift. It will change from grieving, to loneliness and so forth.

Strange Winter's Warming. A half cycle ago I stood with my brother at my back. He rested his hands upon my shoulders, and together we watched the lights colour the sky above the Plains. And come yestereve I was watching the lanterns alone. Well, not truly alone, but alone, nonetheless.

The last time I wrote I wanted to run. Though, now I find myself with the inclination to tarry and stay. I am going to meet and drink with Synvasti and Viviyana one evening soon. We have much to discuss. I had forgotten how beautiful the two of them are. I hadn't seen them in person in so long. I was struck by the loveliness of them; Viviyana, young and old both together. And Synvasti all wary and wild. Does this mean that we're a Coven now? You know, now that all of our brothers have left, and it is just us sisters left?

Mayhaps some witchcraft might do my soul some good. Either way, I cast some last night. When I set off that lantern of mine, I sent off with it a wish. I didn't wish for much; just to feel better again. And, as far as the universe and magic goes, I don't reckon that it's too much to ask.

I feel unwell again. I want to write more. But my mind feels so foggy, I don't think I am going to be much able.

I spoke to Taron, and he wants to continue upon his path to become a Cleric along with me. So, I will take up that again when I am able.

And I was delighted to see Lillya yestereve! Truth be told, I had been waiting - I had been waiting for somebody to talk to. I had thought to write to Avedis, but I didn't know what to put to paper. And, I think I might've caused him distress when last we spoke. I am not sure. Though, these turns I have been worrisome. So mayhaps it is merely that, and it is all in my head.

But, thank heavens Lillya came along, and I was finally able to speak my thoughts a little. Though, I confess I still feel restless, it was at least a little balm for my nerves. I think it is this sickness, and all of the change, and everything. My chest feels so very tight that it keeps waking me at night.

I want to talk to Bris. But he is not here. I don't know. I don't. It all feels like waiting, and sometimes I get the restless inclination to rove. Just so I can be moving, rather than waiting. Were I feeling well, I think I would pack a bag, and go off to the Grasslands. I don't know why that place in particular. Or mayhaps that is why; because I don't know it. I would be a stranger there. And I think I might derive comfort in that.

I have a vision of myself there. I am sure there is a lookout tower in Fartown? Anyway, I would like to climb it and look out over the sway of grass. I'd wear my soft Blue Shuck tunic and drink a little. And I imagine, I would stay up there long after the 'rifter had set orange across the fields.

Now, doesn't that sound like peace? Like a little slither of heaven. I wonder if it smells of the spring there already.

Bris and I had a little skuffle the other turn. It was over an earring, of all things. I never would've believed it. In all of the years I've known Bris, we've never had so much as a crossed word. And when it came down to it, our first spat was over a body piercing. Ridiculous. You couldn't have made it up.

He wanted for us to have matching ones, you see. That had been his plan. Suppose the notion is rather sweet. Though, I don't have my ears pierced. Mind you, nor did he; not until Dabria skewered him. She offered to do it for me too. And I am ashamed to say that I verily shrieked at her.

It was awful. I put it down to all the change. Big emotions. New feelings. You know, all of that. But it is a terrible excuse, really. And it does not excuse me from my behaviour. I was most relieved when Dabria approached me a few turns later and we reconciled. I was much too embarrassed to approach her myself; I did not think that she would want to see me! I was sure she thought me some sort of lunatic with no regard for personal autonomy. But, I was glad when she came and gave me a chance to explain myself. She even gifted me a necklace; cut with the same sort of crystal as Bris' earring.

Bris' earring is a blue ice crystal. It's rather dangly. It makes a tinkling noise sometimes when he walks. I suppose it is rather handy, because now I can hear whichever room he is in when he is home. I didn't like it at all at first. But, suppose I am growing used to it now. Though, I have told him, please, no more change!. He had been talking of shaving his beard off too. He said that perhaps he is having a midlife crisis. You know, like when men of a certain age get all panicked at their loss of youth and start acting silly. I don't know, but the notion frightened me. Because, what if I am part of this crisis too? And furthermore, I like beardie, bookish Bris. I want to drink tea in our tower with him; not some shaven stranger.

Anyway, I believe the matter is resolved now and all is peaceful once again. We can go back to enjoying Winter's Warming.

You know, we hosted our Dragon Ball the other turn, and I believe it was the grandest we've ever held. Blue Shuck and his band returned to play again, and everyone looked so wonderful. We had rather a marvelous turn out; even Alexi came along and danced with both Bris and I! I sat over at the bar and watched them together. And they did make a very handsome pair.

Things are quiet again for the meantime. Unfortunately I haven't had time to prepare a sermon for the season. Though, I might still deliver one after the close of the festivities. It is a few turns yet until the closing ceremony. Bris and I intend to visit the Grove together before then, to look at the memories and lay a new one down together. I am rather excited to do that, actually. I wonder if any of his dreams live there.

Oh! And I must send a reply missive to poor Taron. I really am the most neglectful of mentors!

I had a little cry earlier this turn. Just a little one. You know, this year I think I've cried more than I have in any other. Though, you know, I think it rather a lovely thing. All of these tears and sweet, sharp feelings. Used to be a time that I'd berate myself for crying. As though it were some weak and shameful thing that I ought not be doing.

Though, I never had much to weep over back then. And I seldom ever did. One needs cause to cry, and I had none. These turns I have an abundance of sad, bright and wonderful reasons to cry. And how lovely, lovely it is. Today, I cried because Avedis gifted me this lovely quill (that I am writing with now). I cried because he had thought to craft it for me; because he knows that I have been practicing my letters. And I cried because he had carried it around since Fall Fest, waiting for a chance to gift it to me. And, furthermore, I cried because I do love Avedis dearly. He speaks so lowly of himself. But truly, he is one of the best and firmest friends I've ever had. He is always championing my corner, and he is always ready to celebrate my winnings. I do wish that he could see himself as I do.

So, I had my little cry, and went and sought out Bris. I've been having some very big feelings lately, you see. I have been feeling restless, feverish and highly strung. I've been rather fidgety. I've been feeling feelings that I've not felt in so long, that I am not quite sure where to put them. I suppose it's all change, is all. And some marcs I want to race eagerly through it; but then, my nerves cause me to tarry.

Though, I suppose there is no need to rush. I've all the time in the world.

I was indeed home in less than a marc. By the time I had walked to the temple doors to meet him, I found that he was already there waiting.

I am feeling much better now. The first turn I spent in my bed, and did not venture much further. Though, I did eventually get up and pad about the halls in my socks. The wind has grown bitterly cold, and I did not want to go outside proper, mind you.

I made it to the chapel yesterturn and had a little tidy about. Swept the floors and such. The flowers could use changing. But pickings are slim this time of year. From the chapel window, the garden looks rather grubby and sad. A neglected little patch after all the excitement it hosted before. But again, that is a task for warmer turns. And I will not wish winter away; all seasons do have their place.

Bris came and sat with me for a few marcs and we talked about lots of things. Being human, and all the messiness that entails. Seems he has been getting himself into a spot of bother in my absence. Which is odd in itself; I can't think of a time that he quarreled with anybody. But then, I suppose times are strange at present. He remarked that it seemed as though now we have nothing to fight, we're fighting each other instead. And I am inclined to agree with him. I wonder if I will end up knocking heads with another, before we are done with all of this.

I never used to be very good at all at arguing. I don't think I'm any better at it these turns, either. The last disagreement I had was with Avedis. And then, he said I forgave him too easily. Likely, he was right. Most often I think I am too soft for my own good. Especially when it comes to myself. Standing up for others is far easier, I find.

But anyway, Bris did seem very downhearted. He said that he had apologised; though likely not well enough. Suppose not everyone is as cowardly as me, and can hold on to their forgiveness until adequate amends have been made. I suppose, in some situations, no amount of apology will ever be enough. Though, I do not think the things to be as bad as that. But still, I suppose sometimes we are going to disagree with those around us. And sometimes, we are going to meet people who will dislike us; no matter what we do. And, we just have to make our peace with that.

I've been laid up in Branishor for rather a few turns. I am a silly woman. It started as just a cough, and I thought it was nothing. So I let it sit. And I soldiered on, doing my regular things. On and on I went - as did the cough, on and on. Until at last, after a few cycles festering it floored me. Now I feel as though my lungs are battered and bruised. I am so tired and want nothing but sleep. The healers at the temple gave me medicine. But have warned me off ale for the duration of my treatment.

How I long for beer. Cold beer, and home.

I know that I drink too much. But still, I have such a want of ale.

So, that is the first of my foolishness. The second offense is not sending word to Bris. I am a foolish woman. I would have been home by now. I could have been in my own bed, in our halls, delivered with hot tea and being read to.

Because I do not doubt for a moment that he would come for me. He would have been here in less than a marc, if only I would ask. And it is a strange thing, to have absolutely no doubt in another. It is something I have learnt over the many years of knowing him.

Though, I suppose a lesson harder realised, is to let go of self sufficiency. And that is why I am the most foolish of women.

Another green butterfly visited me today. I was sitting atop the lookout tower back at the Guildhall. It flew a circle around me before plunging off over the edge. I thought it queer because night had already fallen. And I thought it was extra queer because the weather has turned colder; too cold for butterflies, I'd wager. I hope that little butterfly flies away home.

It has been a quiet few turns since our pumpkins were at last picked and weighed. I was very glad that Bris was able to oversee it all - he has much more of a practical mind than me when it comes to such things. Liam Medd was our winner, and has subsequently been crowned The Pumpkin King for the festival. I though it quite wonderful! It is only a few turns now until Fall Fest begins. I have my costume planned and ready!

Joyfire has at last joined our ranks at the Remnants of Kimald. I am sad to have missed her initiation ceremony. But I am sure that shall be made up for once we throw her a welcome party. It has been so long since I last had a sister. I admit I am looking forwards to it.

As for everyone else, I have seen no more of Alexi. I spoke briefly with Telvonus; we are both most excited for the coming festivities. He seemed well and buoyant as always. I heard the Crier call Lowrenzo's name earlier. Which was a shock. Though, I think he had taken his rest before my words of congratulations even had chance to reach him. Alfred called on me yesterturn, he seemed rather out of sorts. Though, he is prone to chatter and waffle, I could not help but feel as though he were talking around something; rather than getting to the point of the matter. Though, mayhaps that is merely because he could not place it himself; I think he is in ill health in someway. It is pinpointing what is ailing him that is proving to be the problem. Even so, I shall endeavour to keep a close eye on him over the coming turns.

I suppose students are like ferries. You wait all marc for them, only for two to show up at once.

Krythix has returned. I found him down in the tombs; covered in dust and cobwebs and still thick from sleep. Though, it is nothing a cup of tea and a good feed shouldn't cure. I've brought him back to the halls for safekeeping.

As for my other apprentice, he is otherwise engaged with helping his father. Roofing or something or other. Either way, at least he is occupied while I focus my attention on the other. Mayhaps we can conduct our field trip to Branishor together with Krythix.

The dance went awfully well last night! We had a band show up, Blue Shuck and the Bosskinners. I'd never heard of them before - but they were very good! Alexi had sent them over. Which was very kind of him. It is nice to know that he thought of me, even if he did not make an appearance in person. I did wonder if he can dance. Mayhaps I will ask him when I see him next. If he can't, I am sure that I shall be able to teach him; as Avedis taught me.

Bris didn't make an appearance either. Which was odd because he had asked me to keep a dance for him just the turn before. He didn't send any word. I wonder what has gotten into him and where he could be.

But either way, I could not waste the music; even if I was partnerless. I danced with the other ladies. Zelele, Sakura, Joyfire and Lavender. That Will Shadowfoot was the only man who took to the floor; and he danced alone, and with quite wild abandon! It was joyous to see and he inspired my own solo ventures. I like dancing on my own. I remember dancing on my own at Zarock's Rainbow party. I even sang too. I had drank rather a lot of ale and I sang. I don't have much of a singing voice, but I did heartily enjoy it at the time. We all took a turn at singing a song that night; Lowrenzo, Pallas, Lavender and I.

But I suppose that is the thing, when walking through life we must learn to dance alone. In fact, not only learn it but take joy in it. It does one little good to sit as a wallflower upon the sidelines of life. You should get up and dance if the feeling takes you.

This journal is a gift. A gift to myself.

I had made a rare visit to Caernivale to browse the tomes and picked it up. I've a new student, you see. I haven't had one in so long. In fact, I can't remember if I've ever had one at all. I'm sure that I have, but... Perhaps I just cannot place their face. I think maybe she was a girl. Though, I am not sure.

In any case, I went to Caernivale to brows the tomes, though I found none on the Gods or the subjects that I had hoped. Strange privilege this, the ability to read and write. It is still new within me, so I practise most turns to cultivate this new skill. It takes me a long time. Writing this will likely take me four times as long as the speed I have seen Bris scribble. But none the less, I find pleasure in it. These marks made by my hand. These marks that are unalike anybody else's own. They're just mine. I never knew that about handwriting, it is rather like a fingerprint. Unique. When I receive letters now I recognise the sender even before I have opened the envelope. Strange pleasure. Strange. That I would recognise another just by the mark of their hand.

It was Avedis that taught me. And that is another oddity in itself. For all of the years that the two of us lived here, we had never exchanged more than a few words until last year. Scootertide, I want to say it was. I never knew him at all before then, but now he sits like a streak of riftershine in my kitchen. Talking with him is as easy as breathing. Strange, odd and delightful thing.

And how I love to watch him carry-on and caper and cajole. To tease and to patter. He taught me to dance, last year, before the Dragon Ball. So that I wouldn't look silly when I stepped out with Bris before the crowd. He enlivened me, so that I remembered the parts of me that I had lost when I had grown stiff. It is a glad thing to have a friend who is always so pleased to see me; and I them. He has a strange superpower - that he never makes me feel foolish in anything.

Who would ever have thought, that someone so beautiful and bright would grace a dreary little life such as mine?

--

While I am here, I must write of the others. Friends new and old. I received a missive from Bris last night that found him joyous and rejuvenated. He thanked me for being his constant and stay during the darker cycles. And to hear it, I was glad. For it was only a few evenings prior that I had sat and spoke my concerns to Joyfire. I will admit that I was concerned for him. The reasons why I can't quite place my finger on. He just seemed subdued and closed in. It seemed as though the usual things that brought him joy no longer sparked a light within him.

I did ask him, of course, if he was well. I asked if he was okay. He would just say that everything was changing. That change was coming. And I suppose now, it has. It has come for the better.

Bris and I have lived quietly alongside one another for a long time now. Likely, he is my oldest friend. For I believe we arrived in the lands about the same time, and I simply cannot recall a time before him. Over the years I believe we've achieved a quiet sort of equilibrium. It was not deliberate or conscious. It just occurred by happenstance. Eventually there were only the two of us left in our halls. So, there was nobody else left to lean upon.

I remember last Fall Fest, for the moment sticks quite poignantly in my mind. We were all in the Inn in Milltown. It was when Tamsin Millwright bestowed me my spectral mail. Well, to give it, he touched me. And I remember, quite clearly, that his touch was like ice and prickles. It startled me. It sent my heart racing and quickened my pulse. And, in my upset, I reached for Bris; only to find, that he had already been reaching for me. He had sensed my discomfort, and he had already reached for me. I had reached for him; there was nobody else who I would've reached for.

Bris wears the mantle of being the best man I know. He is. He wears it. Though, I have never told him so. I worry that the title might make him nervous. But, he is. He is the man who gave me a home, built me a ballroom, and clothed me in the best. He is the man who paid 7000 platinum pieces so that I would feel safe in our halls. I have never known him to be cruel or unfeeling to anybody. I have never known him to lose his temper. He is unfalteringly amicable and gracious in his manner.

So, with all of this in mind, I could not possibly have not reached for Bris while he suffered along quietly beside me. Though, I was no comfort or balm. I am glad to see that he found that in the Gods. I hope my oldest and dearest of friends has found peace and happiness.

---

I think that might be enough for today. Not bad for a first entry. I'll likely write again after our dance on Sunday. I would still like to write about Alfred and his gifted Salve, and Lillya and the pyjamas. Joyfire, my soon-to-be sister and Alexi Corsair too. I'll write all about them another turn.