I woke to talk of dig sites and pickaxes. And something curious in my pack...But first, the pickaxes. There is a merchant selling them in Miltown and on a whim, I purchased one. I am blatantly awkward with it, I will admit. I sent word to Lord Nih and he provided me with excellent directions. I was not encouraged about digging in dry, chilly conditions, until I caught a glimpse of the sea from the top of the largest tree I've ever been in. It sparked something in me and I pressed on to the dig site. When I arrived, Atreiya was already there, working and a few others began to trickle in shortly after she left. It was nice to feel united as we worked so diligently.

That feeling is so similar to what I felt when Andy, Brou, and Melanie invited me to the guild's shoreline recently. I was so hesitant at first; I hadn't been back to the Blade and Staff grounds since...since I thought I was spending time there with someone special. I almost couldn't bring myself to continue north from the campground, but with some wise words from Andy, and encouragement from Melanie and Brou I was able to set foot back on the sands of our shore. Relief flooded through me as if it were my own warm blood. Andy was so right. If only Aurento and Sharian had been there with us too, the feeling would have been complete.

Writing of positive feelings now leads me to remember the curious item I found in my pack when I woke this turn. A short time ago, I woke to discover a lovely little bundle of flowers waiting for me, tucked just inside the edge of my pack. I was baffled, but pleased. My curiosity was so ignited that I've managed to keep the flowers with me to this turn. But flowers were not what waited in my pack this time...this time, it was a promise ring. At first, it was something so random, I thought it must be a mistake. And of course it still could be. But upon further contemplation, I wonder now if the ring and the flowers aren't somehow connected...I decided to wear the ring to see if the person who placed it with me might mention seeing it upon my hand and thus reveal themselves. Not an overly-clever plan, I admit, but the best I've come up with so far.

I try not to deprive myself of what I crave and so when I had the energy I left the well. I soon realized that someone had tucked a gift into my pack...A fragrant bouquet of flowers. It is both baffling and rather nice to believe that someone was thinking of me...

The first day was so strange....I did not know if I was saying "goodbye" or "hello". I shoved off and watched the horizon forever and ever. I prayed. I tried to focus, but I realized I was missing the purpose of the drifting, and so I lay upon my raft in the shade of my small sail and chewed my lips.

The second day was awful. I regretted setting myself adrift and began to panic. I lowered myself into the water and bobbed with the raft in an effort to slow my heart and mind. The gently constant waves held me close and brought me back from the edge.

It was the nights that terrified and soothed me the most though. In the pale light, on the dark waves, I could lay and reform myself over and over. I could reach out to the gods and the heavens. I was presented with choices, I realized. Some more meaningful than others, but all of them important because of what my decisions would mean for me. I went back and forth between feeling weightless and so very heavy. Every fiber of my being was ambivalent.

*the pages of the journal seem a little loose and the corners are ruffled and frayed*

I will ration my water carefully, even from the start. One carafe of wine came along, but it may never be drunk. Berries and bread are suitable for now. I will absorb my energy from the Sunrifter and the Gods. Prayer and introspection have helped, as have the tides.

A bite upon my own lip. A curious pair of eyes mingled with a brain. That is me.

I am surely the most unsure I have ever been. And I do not know if I should celebrate it or prepare myself...There was a time recently where I believed bareness and a receptive nature was most appealing and rewarding. I appreciated myself as Genuine and Open; but perhaps it was a fault. A folly, a mistake. There can never be a proper word for it. Never, because it was beyond my understanding then and still it is, even now.

"Good GODS..." I think I said. And then, "the echoes coalesced into a gravelled voice, heavy with latent power as the planes rippled and warped." I was hungry and awed for Kane. I shielded my eyes against the rising 'Rifter and closed my unguided mouth. Cadeyrn Kane of Admin sent his powerful echo throughout: "It begins. Soon. Be ready." I grasped a deep breath barely and then..." the echoes scattered away, once again separating as the power moved away, dissolving, the mountains breathing ancient winds of lore and settling as the world returned to stability once more"...I do not know if it was a re-affirming experience or one more unsettling.

It is a strange sort of numbness...to force yourself out beyond the breakers and then stop pushing. When your body reaches its burning point and the burning is literally within your very fibers. Pushing and drawing in, that regular rhythm that makes some sort of spiritual sense. When you stop that poetry of movement, you open yourself up to danger.

The tides move and flex, as he mentioned when we first became close. His tides and hers move wayward; My tides are circling dangerously. It seems neither of them has any concern for me as I did for each of them when they began to destroy each other. Offers of comfort and genuine concern are now tossed adrift as if they were so much ash-remnants from a once hearty hearth. I feel disposed of. When Synvasti inquired, I responded easily that the sea was my only comfort in this time. I caught the sound of the crier's voice finally today, from my distant shore. I hurried to the site, tossing powder around as if I had some justice to do so. I was of minimal help. I am adrift...and perhaps I should have always stayed so.

It stings...I suppose I should not be surprised. It just stings right now...like nothing else.