Re: Tenth Entry, Second Diary
Posted: Tue Apr 01, 2014 11:35 pm
1st of Tarsakh, 1350
We have found shelter in Praka, stable enough at least for us to rest weary legs. Emrys remains to the West, for what or where I know not in case I was taken on the road though like most realities of war, the most pressing danger of all was fear. My God may be broken, but He taught us to endure, and though we marched with heavy hearts and heavy minds, we have finally found a sanctuary from the mad war.
It is a beautiful place.
Walls are often utilitarian by design. Beauty tends to carry a hidden delicateness within its meaning, and while one does not necessarily mean the exclusion of the other, Praka to me seems more a testament to aesthetics than practical defense. As tall as the walls go and as high as the spires rise, one can't help but wonder if beauty can last under siege.
We should not harbour thoughts of building a home here.
It will be difficult, as our little cast of hideaways and displaced have already settled into a rhythm. Kiyan has been consistently taken it her responsibility to go to market, and bargain for fresh stock. Eiah has been relentless in her pursuit of my medicinal knowledge. Still girls in my eyes, a few summers short of my old friend Tamara yet possess the strength their parents would have been afraid for them to have.
I wonder how Tamara is doing these days. Do I send her a sending? It is stable enough I suppose to warrant another visit to the Sword Coast. If she has given birth already, I suppose Ameris would have told me. It would be nice, I think, to talk to her about it. I'd come to see her as my little sister in our times together, but in this, she would outrank me in experience. Ilmater permitting, I would love to see her again.
Should that not be possible, Liat and her little Itachi should be joining us again within the tenday. It fascinates me, how quickly she grew in strength when she had her child. Maati may have gone to rest in Mercy's eternal domain, but in little Itachi remains his mark in the world, the proof of his love for Liat Chokavi. We may not speak much, but I feel we are most alike. As much as it pains me to admit . . . everyday I risk suffering as she suffers.
I suppose in the end, I never would have robbed them of their small sense of stability. The ability to think and reason with a cool head is an important part of being a soldier, as the talk I had with Ameris tendays past has reminded me. But Thedran is not right in all things, which is why despite his experience, he still defers to my judgement. I am not a soldier, most people aren't soldiers. And he is wise enough to know his is not the path everyone must tread. If I were to guess at his thoughts, I think he would prefer most to never venture his way.
For now, let them have their slice of haven. Or am I saying this for my own benefit? Perhaps I speak for all of us. The young . . . the old . . . the women. We could all use respite. I hate this helplessness . . . hate this worry. I wish I could trade places with Emrys to look for the Dragonsbane, or go in the place of Otah in the search for survivors. But I am not them and they do not bear my burden, so here I stay. Here I endure.
We have found shelter in Praka, stable enough at least for us to rest weary legs. Emrys remains to the West, for what or where I know not in case I was taken on the road though like most realities of war, the most pressing danger of all was fear. My God may be broken, but He taught us to endure, and though we marched with heavy hearts and heavy minds, we have finally found a sanctuary from the mad war.
It is a beautiful place.
Walls are often utilitarian by design. Beauty tends to carry a hidden delicateness within its meaning, and while one does not necessarily mean the exclusion of the other, Praka to me seems more a testament to aesthetics than practical defense. As tall as the walls go and as high as the spires rise, one can't help but wonder if beauty can last under siege.
We should not harbour thoughts of building a home here.
It will be difficult, as our little cast of hideaways and displaced have already settled into a rhythm. Kiyan has been consistently taken it her responsibility to go to market, and bargain for fresh stock. Eiah has been relentless in her pursuit of my medicinal knowledge. Still girls in my eyes, a few summers short of my old friend Tamara yet possess the strength their parents would have been afraid for them to have.
I wonder how Tamara is doing these days. Do I send her a sending? It is stable enough I suppose to warrant another visit to the Sword Coast. If she has given birth already, I suppose Ameris would have told me. It would be nice, I think, to talk to her about it. I'd come to see her as my little sister in our times together, but in this, she would outrank me in experience. Ilmater permitting, I would love to see her again.
Should that not be possible, Liat and her little Itachi should be joining us again within the tenday. It fascinates me, how quickly she grew in strength when she had her child. Maati may have gone to rest in Mercy's eternal domain, but in little Itachi remains his mark in the world, the proof of his love for Liat Chokavi. We may not speak much, but I feel we are most alike. As much as it pains me to admit . . . everyday I risk suffering as she suffers.
I suppose in the end, I never would have robbed them of their small sense of stability. The ability to think and reason with a cool head is an important part of being a soldier, as the talk I had with Ameris tendays past has reminded me. But Thedran is not right in all things, which is why despite his experience, he still defers to my judgement. I am not a soldier, most people aren't soldiers. And he is wise enough to know his is not the path everyone must tread. If I were to guess at his thoughts, I think he would prefer most to never venture his way.
For now, let them have their slice of haven. Or am I saying this for my own benefit? Perhaps I speak for all of us. The young . . . the old . . . the women. We could all use respite. I hate this helplessness . . . hate this worry. I wish I could trade places with Emrys to look for the Dragonsbane, or go in the place of Otah in the search for survivors. But I am not them and they do not bear my burden, so here I stay. Here I endure.