Written By Renata
Feb. 11, 2024, 10:13 p.m.(9/21/1021 AR)
Nearly twelve years ago, I found myself with fears and horrors of the waters. Of what might be possible to come from being close to the water. I boarded a ship to come to the city.
Part of me hated my beloved Belladonna when I read the contents of her letter over my breakfast in Setarco. A letter so casually and so easily written by her hand, but which killed a part of me on its reading.
For so long, I would find myself to be lost within the city. To be surrounded by those that I didn't know who might be a friend or foe. A feeling that is so distant in the now. Knowing of what my younger self was about to go through, the dances of those she thought were to be loved. Only to be left so quickly when telling them that they were loved.
To be told that she was possibly cursed. As they did not understand as I did. Even to not know Who she was then.
I only wish to be able to wrap her up within a large blanket. Be able to sing to who I once was. To be able to calm her from those fears.
Part of me hated my beloved Belladonna when I read the contents of her letter over my breakfast in Setarco. A letter so casually and so easily written by her hand, but which killed a part of me on its reading.
For so long, I would find myself to be lost within the city. To be surrounded by those that I didn't know who might be a friend or foe. A feeling that is so distant in the now. Knowing of what my younger self was about to go through, the dances of those she thought were to be loved. Only to be left so quickly when telling them that they were loved.
To be told that she was possibly cursed. As they did not understand as I did. Even to not know Who she was then.
I only wish to be able to wrap her up within a large blanket. Be able to sing to who I once was. To be able to calm her from those fears.
Written By Jan
Feb. 11, 2024, 9:58 p.m.(9/21/1021 AR)
I married into the right house. So much citrusy goodness.
Written By Jan
Feb. 11, 2024, 9:58 p.m.(9/21/1021 AR)
It is nice to have plenty to lend my hands to without anyone dying this time around.
Written By Mattheu
Feb. 9, 2024, 12:48 p.m.(9/16/1021 AR)
Who knew it would take a world ending possibility to find and be able to claim the rivers back.
There are skirmishes of demons floating around, they are quick to learn the rivers are not safe for them. The Rivenshari will be stronger than before, and soon we will have passage upon them safe for any who seek.
There are skirmishes of demons floating around, they are quick to learn the rivers are not safe for them. The Rivenshari will be stronger than before, and soon we will have passage upon them safe for any who seek.
Written By Viviana
Feb. 4, 2024, 10:29 a.m.(9/6/1021 AR)
To the enemies of the Compact, past and future --
Get well never.
Always,
V.
Get well never.
Always,
V.
Written By Fatima
Feb. 2, 2024, 5:56 p.m.(9/3/1021 AR)
**A journal submitted from across the sea**
The world survives. The stars no longer spin crazily in the sky, and the world no longer trembles. While we are far from a goal of peace, and there is much cleaning up to do, the people of the world are truly free to choose their own paths.
It is now up to those of us who remain to forge a way forward, to leave a lasting legacy for those who come after us.
Let us ensure it is a legacy to be proud of.
The people of Petrioch have accepted me as their Queen. We have established a mutually beneficial arrangement. Lord Volya and Lady Nebulosa Sha'vhan remain by my side, doing the good work we came here to do.
In time, perhaps the people of Arvum will see me as an ally. Until that day, we shall remain in Eurus, content.
The world survives. The stars no longer spin crazily in the sky, and the world no longer trembles. While we are far from a goal of peace, and there is much cleaning up to do, the people of the world are truly free to choose their own paths.
It is now up to those of us who remain to forge a way forward, to leave a lasting legacy for those who come after us.
Let us ensure it is a legacy to be proud of.
The people of Petrioch have accepted me as their Queen. We have established a mutually beneficial arrangement. Lord Volya and Lady Nebulosa Sha'vhan remain by my side, doing the good work we came here to do.
In time, perhaps the people of Arvum will see me as an ally. Until that day, we shall remain in Eurus, content.
Written By Raja
Feb. 2, 2024, 10:33 a.m.(9/2/1021 AR)
I have received a letter from my mother. It is basically a good-bye. Now, I was raised since I was a tiny thing without her presence in my life. I know that she is not someone I can ever truly count on, simply by the nature of who she is. So, why does it make me sad? Yet, I also feel that she also knows who she is and she understands her own nature. This letter is an act of love. It shows that we are all complex creatures capable of many things that surprise even ourselves. I just hope that my mother finds what she is looking for. I hope she finally finds that place where she feels she can truly belong and to feel love.
Written By Raja
Feb. 2, 2024, 10:23 a.m.(9/2/1021 AR)
It is over. The biggest event of my life is over. I survived. Honestly, I am quite surprised I survived. Yet, here I am. Now, with the world pretty much turned upside down, I have only one regret. I regret that I will not live long enough to see what our children make of this world. We may get to lay the foundations, but our children and our children's children will be who really build it up. However, our children will have a word to build. The alternative.. was not acceptable.
Written By Renata
Feb. 1, 2024, 10:33 p.m.(9/1/1021 AR)
I've never been called selfish before. This is a feeling I don't know how to explain. Other than I suddenly feel understanding to why my cousins enjoy turning to fire.
Written By Renata
Feb. 1, 2024, 9:58 p.m.(9/1/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Titus
Lord Titus was a man of contradictions, a complex tapestry woven from threads of ferocity and compassion, of strength and vulnerability.
He was a storyteller, a weaver of words who sought to capture the essence of life's beauty and intricacies. In the quiet moments of reprieve from battle, he would regale those around him with tales of love and longing, of triumph and tragedy, his words painting vivid images that lingered in the minds of all who listened.
Despite the harsh exterior he often projected, Lord Titus harbored a deep capacity for love and compassion. He sought to embrace all who crossed his path, to offer solace and camaraderie in a world torn apart by strife and conflict. And when the time came to make the ultimate sacrifice, he did so willingly, laying down his life to protect those he held dear, a testament to his unwavering devotion to the greater good.
In the memories we hold of Lord Titus, we see not just a warrior, but a man of depth and complexity, a soul touched by both darkness and light. And though he may have departed this world, his legacy lives on in the tales we tell and the lives he touched, forever etched into the fabric of our shared history.
May his spirit find peace amidst the chaos of the eternal battlefield, and may his stories continue to inspire generations to come.
He was a storyteller, a weaver of words who sought to capture the essence of life's beauty and intricacies. In the quiet moments of reprieve from battle, he would regale those around him with tales of love and longing, of triumph and tragedy, his words painting vivid images that lingered in the minds of all who listened.
Despite the harsh exterior he often projected, Lord Titus harbored a deep capacity for love and compassion. He sought to embrace all who crossed his path, to offer solace and camaraderie in a world torn apart by strife and conflict. And when the time came to make the ultimate sacrifice, he did so willingly, laying down his life to protect those he held dear, a testament to his unwavering devotion to the greater good.
In the memories we hold of Lord Titus, we see not just a warrior, but a man of depth and complexity, a soul touched by both darkness and light. And though he may have departed this world, his legacy lives on in the tales we tell and the lives he touched, forever etched into the fabric of our shared history.
May his spirit find peace amidst the chaos of the eternal battlefield, and may his stories continue to inspire generations to come.
Written By Tesha
Feb. 1, 2024, 9:20 p.m.(9/1/1021 AR)
For too long I have lived for others.
It is time to live for myself and to enjoy what years I have left.
For now, we go to Cardia to beat back Malar and so that I can have a semblance of my happily ever after with Calumar.
It is time to live for myself and to enjoy what years I have left.
For now, we go to Cardia to beat back Malar and so that I can have a semblance of my happily ever after with Calumar.
Written By Mattheu
Feb. 1, 2024, 8:52 p.m.(9/1/1021 AR)
There are those that understand that of which the Rivenshari are and will ever be. Then there are those that will never understand.
Written By Duarte
Feb. 1, 2024, 5:27 p.m.(9/1/1021 AR)
Journal
And this concludes my memoir, for the remainder of my life will be told not by me but by history. My purpose here was to recount my rise from lowborn orphan to nobility. Now that story is told.
But an epilogue - however vague.
The Gods showed me two paths and bade me to choose one. I did not. Ever I remain, balanced on a blade's edge, for it is only there I feel comfortable.
The Gods said I barely believed in them, and it is not true. I do believe in them but perhaps not in the way they would prefer to be believed in.
Choice is paramount but it is not a one-off. We constantly choose, and some times choose not to choose.
The Gods were born of choice, and so were their reflections. They continue to be fed by choice. Our choices. Choice is the gift and magic of humanity and through it we build or destroy, and we empower Gods or Devils.
The Gods are not my masters, nor their archfiends. Each are my tools. Tools with which I craft the path I walk. Each choice made makes either of them more, or less. And the aggregate choices of humanity may make them very powerful indeed, or as innocuous as autumn mist.
Is one good and is one evil? I have served Vellichor by walking with Veil. Thrax served Gild by acting with Legion. Gloria is often honored through a path wrought with much Despair. Stasis brings Change. And once change is acceptably achieved, how many will then desire Stasis?
The true evil is that which wants to end this Dream. Did you look to see who stood beside you to fight it, and take note? We all draw it together with our different hands.
Some of us small, some of us large in impact - but we all paint it.
And whether your brush is wide or thin, all I ask is that you paint at all.
And this concludes my memoir, for the remainder of my life will be told not by me but by history. My purpose here was to recount my rise from lowborn orphan to nobility. Now that story is told.
But an epilogue - however vague.
The Gods showed me two paths and bade me to choose one. I did not. Ever I remain, balanced on a blade's edge, for it is only there I feel comfortable.
The Gods said I barely believed in them, and it is not true. I do believe in them but perhaps not in the way they would prefer to be believed in.
Choice is paramount but it is not a one-off. We constantly choose, and some times choose not to choose.
The Gods were born of choice, and so were their reflections. They continue to be fed by choice. Our choices. Choice is the gift and magic of humanity and through it we build or destroy, and we empower Gods or Devils.
The Gods are not my masters, nor their archfiends. Each are my tools. Tools with which I craft the path I walk. Each choice made makes either of them more, or less. And the aggregate choices of humanity may make them very powerful indeed, or as innocuous as autumn mist.
Is one good and is one evil? I have served Vellichor by walking with Veil. Thrax served Gild by acting with Legion. Gloria is often honored through a path wrought with much Despair. Stasis brings Change. And once change is acceptably achieved, how many will then desire Stasis?
The true evil is that which wants to end this Dream. Did you look to see who stood beside you to fight it, and take note? We all draw it together with our different hands.
Some of us small, some of us large in impact - but we all paint it.
And whether your brush is wide or thin, all I ask is that you paint at all.
Written By Jasher
Feb. 1, 2024, 1:41 p.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
Tomorrow has come. There was a Reckoning, but in the end, it was not for us.
The Eater of Stories has been defeated. After a battle at the very Thinnest Point, in which we stalled the demon while attempting to assemble the form of its defeat, our efforts bore fruit and it was sealed away screaming. It will no longer shadow Arvum with the stories it had eaten, the names it consigned to forgetfulness, and the knowledge cast to fire. As Arx endures, we will remember; not only the stories of past, but the stories told today, and stories yet to be told.
Though one threat has been defeated, there is still much left to be done. The remnants of Azazel's army roam the lands, and it is likely that the holdings that have fallen in their wake have become their strongholds. Maelstrom numbers among them, a difficult but necessary choice in light of the circumstances, but with the immediate threat put away I will aid the family to my utmost to see Maelstrom reclaimed, until the end of my life if need be.
Today could not have been, but it is, and the mood is that of bittersweet celebration with knowledge of the sacrifices made to make today's revelry possible. Sometimes, for such occasions, a glass would be drunk to acknowledge that what was lost, and that which can still be saved.
Today, I will open the seal of my last bottle.
The Eater of Stories has been defeated. After a battle at the very Thinnest Point, in which we stalled the demon while attempting to assemble the form of its defeat, our efforts bore fruit and it was sealed away screaming. It will no longer shadow Arvum with the stories it had eaten, the names it consigned to forgetfulness, and the knowledge cast to fire. As Arx endures, we will remember; not only the stories of past, but the stories told today, and stories yet to be told.
Though one threat has been defeated, there is still much left to be done. The remnants of Azazel's army roam the lands, and it is likely that the holdings that have fallen in their wake have become their strongholds. Maelstrom numbers among them, a difficult but necessary choice in light of the circumstances, but with the immediate threat put away I will aid the family to my utmost to see Maelstrom reclaimed, until the end of my life if need be.
Today could not have been, but it is, and the mood is that of bittersweet celebration with knowledge of the sacrifices made to make today's revelry possible. Sometimes, for such occasions, a glass would be drunk to acknowledge that what was lost, and that which can still be saved.
Today, I will open the seal of my last bottle.
Written By Lisebet
Feb. 1, 2024, 12:45 p.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
I am still alive. Hello glorious sun.
Who ever would have thought that solving riddles involving Jade would be useful?
Time to go hug my children and my husband and spend some time resting.
Who ever would have thought that solving riddles involving Jade would be useful?
Time to go hug my children and my husband and spend some time resting.
Written By Medeia
Feb. 1, 2024, 9:44 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
I have renounced my claim to noble title, though I remain in service to my family and the people of Saikland. I am just Medeia Saik.
I imagine this decision is likely to shock many, but I would be lying if I said that the thought had not occurred to me on other occasions. In truth, this is a decision a long time in the making.
I will not challenge Estie's place as baroness when she comes of age, nor Lucita's role as baroness-regent. My support for both comes from a place of love, not obligation. I am able to continue everything I have done for my family and my people to this point without being within the line of possible succession. I love them all enough to ensure there is no question.
But I also am making this decision because I was asked by the man I love to join him. I did not have to say yes. We could have been content with promises. I could give him this, though. He has asked so little of me and given me so much. Home. When I am with him, that is where I am. When I am away from him, that is where I want to return. We deserve the happiness we have found and make for ourselves.
My children are safe. And they remain within the agreements between Saik and Esywnd until they are of age and may choose their own paths.
I imagine this decision is likely to shock many, but I would be lying if I said that the thought had not occurred to me on other occasions. In truth, this is a decision a long time in the making.
I will not challenge Estie's place as baroness when she comes of age, nor Lucita's role as baroness-regent. My support for both comes from a place of love, not obligation. I am able to continue everything I have done for my family and my people to this point without being within the line of possible succession. I love them all enough to ensure there is no question.
But I also am making this decision because I was asked by the man I love to join him. I did not have to say yes. We could have been content with promises. I could give him this, though. He has asked so little of me and given me so much. Home. When I am with him, that is where I am. When I am away from him, that is where I want to return. We deserve the happiness we have found and make for ourselves.
My children are safe. And they remain within the agreements between Saik and Esywnd until they are of age and may choose their own paths.
Written By Gabriel
Feb. 1, 2024, 8:29 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
May peace be brought to all those who lived and died in protection of our Compact and Arvum.
To those allies from among our lands and beyond: thank you.
To those allies from among our lands and beyond: thank you.
Written By Gabriel
Feb. 1, 2024, 8:13 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
Relationship Note on Sabella
It's very unlikely that I would be here without the intervention of Princess Sabella Grayson. In a singular moment she forged a memory that will last a lifetime and beyond as I will hope to see a memorial dedicated in her honor before my last days.
I am grateful to her.
I am grateful to her.
Written By Sen'azala
Feb. 1, 2024, 7:48 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
I had the dream again.
It was the same as it's always been, my first and worst memory. Sometimes little things about it change, sometimes the monster is larger, sometimes things are louder, or quieter, sometimes it all happens quickly or in slow motion, but it's always the same thing, always my parents dying to buy time, always a monster naming their murderer, always a terrifying dash into the dark in the arms of the woman that would raise me. Every time I have the dream, I wake up afraid and hating him, more and more certain of the path I've cut.
Today I woke to sunlight through a window, and the occasional sound of birds. That stupid cat was sleeping on my lap. I'd slept almost to noon, so the sun was already high. There's always that moment when you wake up from a dream where you have to shake it away, establish where you are and what's real. I didn't rush. I let it settle.
He's dead. The Horned God is dead, and will never come for me or anyone I care about or anyone else *ever* again. Legion is dead, devoured helpless in its prison with all of its slaves freed. Destiny is dead, and so is its dream. Azazel is dead or worse, sucked screaming into a box and reduced to nothing at the moment of his expected triumph. All of my monsters are gone, and I'm still alive.
What's the point of Sen Venandi now?
It's warm. Summer. The sky is blue and completely clear. The damn cat took forever to wake up and even longer to get off me, he sat around purring out of spite. I put pen to paper and I genuinely don't know what to do today. There are plenty of things *to* do of course. Endless things, most of them depressing and unpleasant, but necessary. There will be, as I wrote, years of funerals. Ceremonies, probably. New statues for the Hall. New memorials. New weddings, apparently. There's a lot of repairing and cleaning to do around the city. there's the matter of it being stuffed with refugees who have nowhere else to go, there's the matter of feeding them, housing them, helping or letting them figure out where to go from here.
I don't know where to go from here.
I could just leave. Vanish without goodbyes, go wherever whim takes me, take in the devastation and maybe find places that haven't been touched by it. I could try to find my tribe, carry hope until I've exhausted the places where they may have taken shelter. They might even be right here in Arx. I'd have to search. I'd have to be prepared, because if they're alive I don't know what they'd say. I don't know if they'd recognize who I am. I don't know if they'd want anything to do with me if they did.
I could stay a while. That would be the responsible thing. I'm no builder or craftsperson and I highly doubt that's about to change, new world or no, but I've got two hands and a strong back. I have people here. Friends here. I'll have responsibilities if I don't run away now, and maybe I don't want to run away from them. I'll have this place. I'll have...resignation that people I want to be alive aren't and won't return, but hope that I'm entirely wrong about it.
There's Nefer'khat. Their ships are waiting, but it will take time for Dhiib'andzi's forces to be ready to sail back on them. Once they do...that might be it. Nefer'khat prefers to stay to itself. I might never see Wolves again. I might never see that city where every part of me doesn't fit again. If I don't take this chance, I'm confident the Regent will ensure that any chances afterward will be far, far, far more difficult. I gave up the dream of that crown, though, and I don't know if it will ever come back. I don't know if my people ever intended to go back.
I don't know if I'll let House Venandi die with me. Maybe that's another piece of the old world that will fade away. Like Sapphire walking into the Shining Lands, maybe the Venandi's time is simply done, gone with the ghosts of every one of them except me. Maybe I'll just be the last. Maybe that's okay.
I have every choice. The possibilities are as open as the sky. I have never been more free than I am now, and there's no need to choose right away. There's no need to only choose one. There's no reason that I can't simply sit a while, listening to birds, looking out the window, letting the cat be obnoxious. No reason I can't just doze off again. No reason I can't go into the city and see people I want to see, or get as drunk as I possibly can. No reason I can't go visit the kids I miss. There's nothing stopping me. All my monsters are dead.
There will be more, obviously. Demons and shards that ran instead of dying, and whatever springs up to fill the void they've created. Maybe I'll simply do what I've done. I'm a hunter. Maybe I'll hunt. Maybe I won't hunt alone.
The Kindly Voices said it would be a time of chaos, but that some might say it was a chance to make a better world. I don't know if we can manage better. I only know it will be different. If the Compact survives, it won't be what it was. The Undying Empire won't return, whatever springs up over the ashes. The Dune Kingdoms burn, but they've lost their worst tyrants, and hopefully not too many will replace them. I suspect they'll have a difficult time doing so.
Cardia will make it, I think, if they can destroy the Talons, or at least permanently remove them from power. Whether or not that ends up being better...I guess that's up to them.
Whatever someone thinks of the decision, the chains binding the world are gone. There will still be slaves, more chains will be forged, but never like that. Never unbreakable. Never again. Our stories are our own, our magic is our own, our choices are our own. Arvum is ashes, but anyone who has seen a forest fire knows that things will grow again. It just takes time. It's our tragedy and our triumph, as the Kindly Voices said.
The point of Sen Venandi is to be Sen Venandi, whoever Sen Venandi chooses to be. I can go in any direction, in every direction. I haven't the slightest idea of what I'm going to do with myself, and despite all the fear, and sorrow, and loss, it's the most wonderful feeling to discover in this brand new uncertain world.
It was the same as it's always been, my first and worst memory. Sometimes little things about it change, sometimes the monster is larger, sometimes things are louder, or quieter, sometimes it all happens quickly or in slow motion, but it's always the same thing, always my parents dying to buy time, always a monster naming their murderer, always a terrifying dash into the dark in the arms of the woman that would raise me. Every time I have the dream, I wake up afraid and hating him, more and more certain of the path I've cut.
Today I woke to sunlight through a window, and the occasional sound of birds. That stupid cat was sleeping on my lap. I'd slept almost to noon, so the sun was already high. There's always that moment when you wake up from a dream where you have to shake it away, establish where you are and what's real. I didn't rush. I let it settle.
He's dead. The Horned God is dead, and will never come for me or anyone I care about or anyone else *ever* again. Legion is dead, devoured helpless in its prison with all of its slaves freed. Destiny is dead, and so is its dream. Azazel is dead or worse, sucked screaming into a box and reduced to nothing at the moment of his expected triumph. All of my monsters are gone, and I'm still alive.
What's the point of Sen Venandi now?
It's warm. Summer. The sky is blue and completely clear. The damn cat took forever to wake up and even longer to get off me, he sat around purring out of spite. I put pen to paper and I genuinely don't know what to do today. There are plenty of things *to* do of course. Endless things, most of them depressing and unpleasant, but necessary. There will be, as I wrote, years of funerals. Ceremonies, probably. New statues for the Hall. New memorials. New weddings, apparently. There's a lot of repairing and cleaning to do around the city. there's the matter of it being stuffed with refugees who have nowhere else to go, there's the matter of feeding them, housing them, helping or letting them figure out where to go from here.
I don't know where to go from here.
I could just leave. Vanish without goodbyes, go wherever whim takes me, take in the devastation and maybe find places that haven't been touched by it. I could try to find my tribe, carry hope until I've exhausted the places where they may have taken shelter. They might even be right here in Arx. I'd have to search. I'd have to be prepared, because if they're alive I don't know what they'd say. I don't know if they'd recognize who I am. I don't know if they'd want anything to do with me if they did.
I could stay a while. That would be the responsible thing. I'm no builder or craftsperson and I highly doubt that's about to change, new world or no, but I've got two hands and a strong back. I have people here. Friends here. I'll have responsibilities if I don't run away now, and maybe I don't want to run away from them. I'll have this place. I'll have...resignation that people I want to be alive aren't and won't return, but hope that I'm entirely wrong about it.
There's Nefer'khat. Their ships are waiting, but it will take time for Dhiib'andzi's forces to be ready to sail back on them. Once they do...that might be it. Nefer'khat prefers to stay to itself. I might never see Wolves again. I might never see that city where every part of me doesn't fit again. If I don't take this chance, I'm confident the Regent will ensure that any chances afterward will be far, far, far more difficult. I gave up the dream of that crown, though, and I don't know if it will ever come back. I don't know if my people ever intended to go back.
I don't know if I'll let House Venandi die with me. Maybe that's another piece of the old world that will fade away. Like Sapphire walking into the Shining Lands, maybe the Venandi's time is simply done, gone with the ghosts of every one of them except me. Maybe I'll just be the last. Maybe that's okay.
I have every choice. The possibilities are as open as the sky. I have never been more free than I am now, and there's no need to choose right away. There's no need to only choose one. There's no reason that I can't simply sit a while, listening to birds, looking out the window, letting the cat be obnoxious. No reason I can't just doze off again. No reason I can't go into the city and see people I want to see, or get as drunk as I possibly can. No reason I can't go visit the kids I miss. There's nothing stopping me. All my monsters are dead.
There will be more, obviously. Demons and shards that ran instead of dying, and whatever springs up to fill the void they've created. Maybe I'll simply do what I've done. I'm a hunter. Maybe I'll hunt. Maybe I won't hunt alone.
The Kindly Voices said it would be a time of chaos, but that some might say it was a chance to make a better world. I don't know if we can manage better. I only know it will be different. If the Compact survives, it won't be what it was. The Undying Empire won't return, whatever springs up over the ashes. The Dune Kingdoms burn, but they've lost their worst tyrants, and hopefully not too many will replace them. I suspect they'll have a difficult time doing so.
Cardia will make it, I think, if they can destroy the Talons, or at least permanently remove them from power. Whether or not that ends up being better...I guess that's up to them.
Whatever someone thinks of the decision, the chains binding the world are gone. There will still be slaves, more chains will be forged, but never like that. Never unbreakable. Never again. Our stories are our own, our magic is our own, our choices are our own. Arvum is ashes, but anyone who has seen a forest fire knows that things will grow again. It just takes time. It's our tragedy and our triumph, as the Kindly Voices said.
The point of Sen Venandi is to be Sen Venandi, whoever Sen Venandi chooses to be. I can go in any direction, in every direction. I haven't the slightest idea of what I'm going to do with myself, and despite all the fear, and sorrow, and loss, it's the most wonderful feeling to discover in this brand new uncertain world.
Written By Martino
Feb. 1, 2024, 6:20 a.m.(8/28/1021 AR)
Not once did we yield, this was not going to be our end.
Not once did we give up, this was not a time to surrender.
Not once did we sit down, this was our time to stand.
The impossible has been defeated, heroes will be remembered.
The Compact still stands.
Neither by Chance nor by Fate.
Not once did we give up, this was not a time to surrender.
Not once did we sit down, this was our time to stand.
The impossible has been defeated, heroes will be remembered.
The Compact still stands.
Neither by Chance nor by Fate.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.