Scribblings.

[Rythern]

the wild light a journal Dear reader. A voice of reason said to me, in the days before I shouldered this burden, that collecting those scattered scraps of writing left in a wanderer's wake was an impossible task. Yet here I am. My name is immaterial. I am an echo. I am the wind. I am a scribe, tracing the restless footprints of the young man they used to call my brother. This is how I know him. The efforts at compilation you'll find within these pages are incomplete, and still ongoing. -M.M. (librarian)

[Rythern]

1st Spring, 510 A.V.

The prince showed up in the foreign land on the first day of spring. He was a good-natured prince, and he smiled when the gates opened and the people welcomed him as their guest. But things weren't completely right. The old storyteller who watched everything saw the only two things that no one else could see: the prince's eyes never focused on anyone, and his smile never reached his eyes. That day, the prince changed. He became a boy and a man, too mature and not half mature enough. He smiled and he walked through the gates and he smiled some more, but he didn't pay attention, and the old storyteller who watched everything was sad to see it. Because the huge irony of the prince's life - no matter how celebratory today's occasion - was impossible to ignore. The first of spring. The first of spring. He was a boy and a man and he was happy but also sad. That day, the prince became something more than 'a prince' and less than 'the prince'. He became something of a paradox. -Vakya

Notes: Arrived in Syliras tonight. Got a bad gash on left arm from practicing today - should've worn the cord armor, dammit - but ah, what can you do. Going to Soothing Waters in the morning to see if the healers can help. The knives are all in good shape except the third one, which needs sharpening. Get a new sharpening stone. -Rythern

[Rythern]

12th Spring, 510 A.V.

Once upon a time there was a girl who spoke very little, and a boy who spoke too much. The girl had white hair and she looked like day. The boy had dark hair and he looked like night. The secret was the reversal. In truth, the girl was night, and the boy was day. That was the secret. Sometime near the beginning of spring - although it was hard to tell when exactly - the boy who was Day met the girl who was Night. "Hello," said Day. "Hello yourself," said Night. "I don't keep secrets," Day told her. Night just laughed. "That's because I keep them for you." -Vakya

Notes: 1. How long am I staying in Syliras? 2. Think up something for Fade. A acrobatic routine. It's been a while, but it's doable. -Rythern

[Rythern]

13th Spring, 510 A.V.

Notes: Practiced a bit today. Still need idea. What about sashes? -Rythern