First of Spring, Year Five-Hundred and Thirteen After the Valterrian
There is an air of sadness and anxiety in Syliras, as though the Sylirans still think disaster might strike. Today, of all days, do I share their fears. It feels as though things are going to happen this season, things that both bode good and ill for my fair city. I don't know if I should be prepared to be happy or if I should ready myself for sadness. It would be easier if I knew what to expect, and when to expect it, and of course how best I might avert it.
The new squires initiated from the pages are showing promise, however they are much looser in their activities than I ever was when I was a squire. I suppose it comes with youth. Children in Wind Reach were puffed up, overzealous, flighty little chicks as well. I should have expected the children of Syliras to be no different, yet I expected them to be more cultured without the threat of sudden death over their heads every day. Maybe they are spoiled, I do not know. I am happy I have already joined the ranks of the knights, even if I must await my knighting quest, so I do not have to be lumped in with these children who pull their antics. No one could mistake me for a child, or so I hope.
It's amusing. I've never kept a journal before, but my sponsor once suggested I take one to record what I go through in it. I suppose that now she is dead I am taking one to honour her memory. Trivial, really. Where she is, she doesn't care. It doesn't stop me from feeling awkward writing this, however. I shan't write it like it was a book, of course, but writing like these are my thoughts is disconcerting at best.
I suppose I am done, for now. I shall write more some other day.
There is an air of sadness and anxiety in Syliras, as though the Sylirans still think disaster might strike. Today, of all days, do I share their fears. It feels as though things are going to happen this season, things that both bode good and ill for my fair city. I don't know if I should be prepared to be happy or if I should ready myself for sadness. It would be easier if I knew what to expect, and when to expect it, and of course how best I might avert it.
The new squires initiated from the pages are showing promise, however they are much looser in their activities than I ever was when I was a squire. I suppose it comes with youth. Children in Wind Reach were puffed up, overzealous, flighty little chicks as well. I should have expected the children of Syliras to be no different, yet I expected them to be more cultured without the threat of sudden death over their heads every day. Maybe they are spoiled, I do not know. I am happy I have already joined the ranks of the knights, even if I must await my knighting quest, so I do not have to be lumped in with these children who pull their antics. No one could mistake me for a child, or so I hope.
It's amusing. I've never kept a journal before, but my sponsor once suggested I take one to record what I go through in it. I suppose that now she is dead I am taking one to honour her memory. Trivial, really. Where she is, she doesn't care. It doesn't stop me from feeling awkward writing this, however. I shan't write it like it was a book, of course, but writing like these are my thoughts is disconcerting at best.
I suppose I am done, for now. I shall write more some other day.
