The Journal of Neyasi Tillandsia

by **Neyasi Tillandsia** on January 11th, 2014, 9:26 pm

The day of 41, Spring, 502 A.V.

Father has given me a journal to write in. He says I should get into the habit of writing. I will need it one day.
I am now ten years old. Father has begun taking me aboveground to practice archery with a longbow. It is very big, and hard to hold. But I love it. I love being out in the open air.
I asked my father why we didn't live above the cavern, where there are oceans and mountains, and rivers and deserts. He said we were not welcome there. That makes me sad.
Maybe one day I will live on the surface. I would like that. I would live there, and Father would show me the world.
I heard someone talking about my cousins. I couldn't believe I had cousins! But when I ask Father, he said we were never to speak of it again. Did I do something wrong?
Am I too young to know about these things? I'd like to know. Maybe I am. Maybe that's why Father won't talk to me about Mother or my cousins-that-shall-not-be-named.

by **Neyasi Tillandsia** on January 11th, 2014, 10:30 pm

The day of 24, Fall, 505 A.V.

Today, Father permitted me to go to a lesson on aerial dancing. It was the most fun I've had since I learned to shoot an arrow. I do so hope that Father would allow me to continue having these lessons.
Father will be going on a trip soon. To the surface. He won't be taking me this time, he says. But when I am sixteen, perhaps he will take me. And he will keep a journal! So I can read about it all when he returns, on my fifteenth birthday.
Soon, I will be fourteen. Once I am fourteen, I won't just be Drovidin Tillandsia's daughter. I will be Neyasi Tillandsia, the archer and aerial dancer! Or maybe I will just be an archer. Or just an aerial dancer. Or maybe I shall be a weaver. Yes, a weaver. Father says I weave very prettily. Then it is settled. I will be Neyasi Tillandsia the Weaver!
And I could travel across Mizahar, selling what I make to all the people I see. I wonder, what is it like to live on the surface? One day, I will know what it is like.

by **Neyasi Tillandsia** on January 11th, 2014, 11:01 pm

89 of Fall, 507 A.V.

Father has still not come back from his trip. It has been almost two years since he left, and I hear rumors of the worst sort going around about it. A servant of the ruling Hyacinth pair stopped by. She said that if Father did not return by my sixteenth birthday, in thirty-four days, they will declare him dead.
But Father is not dead. He can't be. I know it in my gut. My father is a stubborn man. I know he would not allow himself to die if I still live. He must still be alive, somewhere. So I will trust in my instincts, and wait for him to come.
In the meanwhile, I will continue to practice archery, and I will continue to dance, and to weave. I will not listen to what I hear, because they do not know my father, and they are wrong.
Perhaps I will weave something for him for when he returns...
But... What if he does not return?