It is with shaking hands and a a stomach full of gently fluttering insects that I scribe these words. I have found a number of pages belonging to my great grandmother's journal, whilst I was in the archive seeking tomes of history. As they are fragile records of my people's journey I feel ill at ease demanding that I be able to take what should be mine. Rather, I will take the time, day by day, to scribe copies of my great grandmother's writing, keeping the copies for my reference.
It begins mid sentence, though near the top of the page.
“…word is that the North is yet starving. I do not understand why, as my family, by all their accounts, have been contributing from their fertile Western land as much food as they can spare, as have all their neighbors. All the heralds sent by the upper crust of the North's administration say the same thing, though – the North is upset that they're not getting their fair share of the food. The funny thing about that is I have heard word from the people who packed those carts headed North and South, as well as back into town. My family. My dearest sister Aurine and her long time partner, Leolay, who till the fields for grains, and my brother Jakobi and his friend Bio`nuis, who are fond of the gourds and berries and leafy greens in their garden, and I, have all been in direct contact with each other, and none of us have seen a difference in how food is being shared out between anyone, at all. Things as they have seen have been equal. I suppose it's possible that others have seen to their own needs before the majority, but we Elves have not lived this long under threat of demons just to short each other on a loaf of bread, you know?
It worries me. And I don't like being worried. It makes little Hollister nervous. I can tell, because he kicks whenever I get panicked. If he is this empathetic to others' needs now, I can not wait to meet him again, and again, as he grows day by day. Whenever I get worried, that's what I think about. The future, with Holli and me and whoever else we meet. This land is beautiful and it is the balance of the three segments of Elven society, the North, the West, and my South, that allow us to keep the peace both between each other and against the horde demons, valiantly held back by the North.
Sometimes I wonder if I should bring a child into this world. Demons and starvation up north don't make for the most reassuring bedtime stories. I would that we gain enough power one day to permanently beat back those devilish beasts and take S'iolaen for our own, but time will see to that. With my apprenticeship into the Southern academies I will be able to ensure that my Holli has nothing but the most comprehensive books to read from the day he first shows interest, and that he has nothing but peace to be able to study them in. With his schooling and every opportunity, he will be a far better Wizard than I, far more talented, and wise, too. My child will be everything that I aspire to.
I get faint when I get excited. I need to remember to keep myself grounded. It's just so hard, with all the responsibilities of motherhood knocking down my door. I am grateful for our people's lengthy gestation period, but am exhausted by having to carry around a miniature person inside me, all day long. I look forward to the future, when my child can walk on his own two feet, and see the world for himself. From the barrier gates to the North to the fields of the West and the tall towers and high minds of the South, we are a beautiful people and we are very fortunate to live in the time we do, with peace and normality and no grumblings from the North worth paying attention to. They have their food. I don't know why they think they're getting less.
Truly yours,
(Signed Lilianne Thinnas)”
Astounding. That there was another Hollister before me, and that my great grandmother wanted him to be a wizard, as I wish to be... the past truly is a portal to understanding the present, taken in stages. I wonder whether my mother knew much of her family's past. I would that I had the opportunity to ask her without a séance. I would that a lot of things differ from this world to the one I must take part in shaping. That is for another day, though. Until then, I remain,
Dear Journal,
It is with shaking hands and a a stomach full of gently fluttering insects that I scribe these words. I have found a number of pages belonging to my great grandmother's journal, whilst I was in the archive seeking tomes of history. As they are fragile records of my people's journey I feel ill at ease demanding that I be able to take what should be mine. Rather, I will take the time, day by day, to scribe copies of my great grandmother's writing, keeping the copies for my reference.
It begins mid sentence, though near the top of the page.
“…word is that the North is yet starving. I do not understand why, as my family, by all their accounts, have been contributing from their fertile Western land as much food as they can spare, as have all their neighbors. All the heralds sent by the upper crust of the North's administration say the same thing, though – the North is upset that they're not getting their fair share of the food. The funny thing about that is I have heard word from the people who packed those carts headed North and South, as well as back into town. My family. My dearest sister Aurine and her long time partner, Leolay, who till the fields for grains, and my brother Jakobi and his friend Bio`nuis, who are fond of the gourds and berries and leafy greens in their garden, and I, have all been in direct contact with each other, and none of us have seen a difference in how food is being shared out between anyone, at all. Things as they have seen have been equal. I suppose it's possible that others have seen to their own needs before the majority, but we Elves have not lived this long under threat of demons just to short each other on a loaf of bread, you know?
It worries me. And I don't like being worried. It makes little Hollister nervous. I can tell, because he kicks whenever I get panicked. If he is this empathetic to others' needs now, I can not wait to meet him again, and again, as he grows day by day. Whenever I get worried, that's what I think about. The future, with Holli and me and whoever else we meet. This land is beautiful and it is the balance of the three segments of Elven society, the North, the West, and my South, that allow us to keep the peace both between each other and against the horde demons, valiantly held back by the North.
Sometimes I wonder if I should bring a child into this world. Demons and starvation up north don't make for the most reassuring bedtime stories. I would that we gain enough power one day to permanently beat back those devilish beasts and take S'iolaen for our own, but time will see to that. With my apprenticeship into the Southern academies I will be able to ensure that my Holli has nothing but the most comprehensive books to read from the day he first shows interest, and that he has nothing but peace to be able to study them in. With his schooling and every opportunity, he will be a far better Wizard than I, far more talented, and wise, too. My child will be everything that I aspire to.
I get faint when I get excited. I need to remember to keep myself grounded. It's just so hard, with all the responsibilities of motherhood knocking down my door. I am grateful for our people's lengthy gestation period, but am exhausted by having to carry around a miniature person inside me, all day long. I look forward to the future, when my child can walk on his own two feet, and see the world for himself. From the barrier gates to the North to the fields of the West and the tall towers and high minds of the South, we are a beautiful people and we are very fortunate to live in the time we do, with peace and normality and no grumblings from the North worth paying attention to. They have their food. I don't know why they think they're getting less.
Truly yours,
(Signed Lilianne Thinnas)”
Astounding. That there was another Hollister before me, and that my great grandmother wanted him to be a wizard, as I wish to be... the past truly is a portal to understanding the present, taken in stages. I wonder whether my mother knew much of her family's past. I would that I had the opportunity to ask her without a séance. I would that a lot of things differ from this world to the one I must take part in shaping. That is for another day, though. Until then, I remain,
Yours Sincerely,
