Back at home in our courtyard, a flower named Sweet William grows. Though, mother always called ours Sweet Nicholas, after me instead.

Whenever I think upon becoming a Cleric a lump of bile rises in my throat. I know that the feeling is wrong, and that I ought not be having it. But, it comes unto me all the same; whether I like it or not. I am not sure what the feeling is entirely. Suppose, it is something deeper than longing, and more festering than guilt. It tastes almost like betrayal; biter and acrid.

I do not understand this strange longing inside of me. But, when people ask me, I talk about animals. When I think of giving my care and tending, that is where my heart goes. To the bunnies and the bos. I already spend much of my time with the bos. I am alone throughout most of my days. But they are living things with hearts that beat and I feed them apples.

I spoke about it a little with Miss Kirana the other turn. I spoke about service and servitude, and how I hoped to be useful. I imagine that the swordplay and such shall be quite the same either way; Warrior or Cleric. I cannot decide, you see. I cannot decide between the two. I know which my father would prefer. But most everyone says that I ought to choose for myself. I wonder if Miss Kirana would deign to be my mentor, should I decide to follow the path of the Clergy. I suppose I ought to ask her.

I do not know any Warriors. At least, not off the top of my head. Suppose there is Lathai. But, I don't think I would like to trouble him. They say that I ought to follow my own path, and that means not following after my father's boot heels as well, I think. No. I do think I would prefer to do it alone. Miss Kirana says that the Warriors here provide their own sort of service. Tis their lot in life to throw themselves into the fray and defend those weaker. They can heal too, she said. They make salves.

It would be easy to be a warrior, I think. My body already knows how to do it. I've been doing it since I was old enough to be sent to the quartermaster. I squired to Lord Lucias from my twelfth nameday. I wonder what he would say, if he learnt I was contemplating giving it all up for a life of the cloth...

Actually, on second thought, I do believe I know exactly what he would say of me.