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Written By Tikva

Feb. 16, 2017, 1:30 a.m.(12/7/1005 AR)

I am surrounded by new, freshly bleeding wounds, and all I can think of is Rey. But the only bandages I have are words, my only poultice a smile, and my unguent a prayer. This is not my best metaphor.

You cannot heal a heart in an instant, I say. I touch mine and wonder how long it took to heal that wound. I know I'll always have the scar.

You'll find okay again, I say. It cannot be anything like the okay you had before, but sadness is what we need sometimes to grow and change. I know I took mine, and for awhile I was lost in it, but I grew, and changed, and became Tikva again.

Some things only time and quiet can heal, I say. Because distance can come no other way. Love is the greatest gift we have; remember that as you weep for it.

Be there, as they were for me. My brothers, my sister. My true solace, all I have left of Kelleth: my son. That's all you can do. Remember it is not about you. You want to do something, of course you do, we all want to do, to build, to fix, to _help_.

But that's about you. Love isn't about you. Love is selfless.

What's funny about this journal entry, of course, is that I felt driven to write it because I saw so much pain today, and now scribe out the advice I tried to give, because I too am driven to do, to build, to fix, to help.

But it is good advice, isn't it? I hope it is.

Written By Signe

Feb. 15, 2017, 11:17 p.m.(12/7/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Nadia

To you who reads this, to those who sent their condolences regarding my cousin's passing,

I'd like to thank you. Thank you for reminding us that she lives on in the memories of others and not just ourselves, her family. Nadia died for a noble cause, and that is to protect the peace of this city. This, they have won in battle as she fought alongside many others who gathered arms.

But, as you all probably know, this will not be the last. I can only hope that we put aside our petty feuds and work together to keep this darkness from reaching our home. To them, there is no House This and House That. We're all the same.

Yet here I am, writing this in secret instead of having such words announced. Would anyone even listen, if I did?

Dear Nadia, it is too soon. Way too soon.

Written By Sparte

Feb. 15, 2017, 10:48 p.m.(12/7/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Zhayla

Someone able to have fun, and crack a joke! She looks like she knows her stuff too. I hope someone will pay her to train me, or else I'll never afford it before the scavs get here.

Written By Lark

Feb. 15, 2017, 9:56 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Vincere

One might not expect a great deal of overlap between the Ministry of Civil Development and the Ministry of Defense, but we found quite a bit to reference to one another in the beginning days. If you've ever tried to find volunteers willing to do charity with you, you might sympathize with some of our early frustrations -- and he was doing something actually interesting!

I did not do right by Marquis Vincere. ...even after he saved my cousin, his Regent, Princess Dawn from a throng of Iron Guard deserters. That is another shame, among the many others, that I will carry with me always. It is made worse that he did not begrudge me, rather remained a steadfast ally.

He was a brilliant strategist, so loyal to the Compact that he gave his life for it, and was deeply revered by all who came to know him including myself. Oh, and his Elven name was Nerd.

Pietro was terrified of me and with good reason, overprotective mother-griffin that I am.
I can regret that, too. He brought someone that I love a great deal of happiness.
Now that he has gone, it is as if he has taken it all with him ...even from me.
They both have.

Goodbye, Steel.
Goodbye, Fire.

Written By Rowan

Feb. 15, 2017, 9:55 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

The Storm rolled across the lands. It followed the winds and traveled from sea to mountain. Sometimes it raged violently and sent man and beast alike running for shelter. Other times, it rolled lazily and rumbled contented thunder while its lightning lit up the clouds in shakes of rose gold and silver.

One summer day, Storm blew across a parched Lake. Lake was tranquil and still, so glassy that Storm could see itself reflected back. Life blossomed around Lake, even with its shores so diminished. The Storm lingered with the Lake. It reached for Lake with rains until Lake's waters all but overflowed. Lake reached for Storm with the evening mists and the morning dew.

Storm gentled to linger, ignoring the winds that traveled in favor of staying with Lake, partings its clouds by day to grant Lake the sun's light. Lake became more bold, its surface pulled to waves by the steady winds. When Storm grew weak, Lake gave to it, and when Lake started to dwindle, Storm gave it rain.

When a strong wind came and blew Storm far from Lake, Storm's sorrow flooded the valleys, and Storm's rage could be seen for miles strikes at the tall trees. In time Storm calmed again. It found its own strength again, but never again found anything like the tranquil Lake wherever it blew. Lake danced with the strong Wind, but the Wind could not feed the Lake, and Lake returned to wanting for rain when the traveling winds did not bring it.

Written By Caelis

Feb. 15, 2017, 9:29 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

I visited the shrine to Mangata again. The usual calm and serenity I found solace in before was not present sadly on this visit. All the same, I shall continue to pay my respects to Mangata every day that I can, it is too lovely a place not to make a habit of visiting. While my meditation and prayer were cut short, I did resolve to practice my skill at arms more. I have many things to learn still.

May your hopes find safe harbors.

Written By Cara

Feb. 15, 2017, 9:14 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Vincere

This is not a journal of what has been. It is a journal of what will not be; if you are a scholar, turn away, for there is nothing here but dreams.

My love, this is for you. You are beyond reading it, I know, but I write it nevertheless.

It should have been our life.

I see the library you built for me, with the volumes ordered just so, and the way we never could quite agree on just how to sort them. By topic or by author? By age? Never the medicinals with the herbals, those belong with botany. Books stacked on the desk, waiting to be returned home, half interrupted and places marked where we were distracted with one another and left unfinished.

In the garden, Pietro's ridiculous gnomes have multiplied, and he and I hide them to distract and annoy you, because the frown you make when you are exasperated with us is adorable.

The fire dies low and we are too comfortable on your study's couch to rise and go to bed properly. I rest my head on your shoulder and whisper when I want you to turn the page of whatever it is we read together.

The children, running and tumbling through the halls, chased by their uncle -- until you poke your head from your study to give them a look and quiet them. At least until they are out of view.

Lazy mornings, broken by little whispers wondering, "Are they up yet? No, you wake them."

Silver hair and lines at the corners of your eyes, hands that ache in the cold, still strong enough to hold mine.

It should have been our life, my dearest.

Perhaps -- perhaps, we will meet again, and I pray for all the gods' grace that next time, we will have our time.

Written By Ainsley

Feb. 15, 2017, 9:11 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

I thought that I knew what it felt to feel love.

Then I met Pietro Igniseri, and I realized that everything I thought I knew about love was wrong. From someone I expected to hate no less. He came to me all smiles and energy when I was frustrated and angry. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that I loved him. Perhaps it was when he knocked me onto my ass in the sands. Perhaps it was when he cared enough to follow after I stormed out like an angry youth. Maybe it was the first time he smiled. Maybe it was his ridiculous messages. Maybe--

Maybe one day I will look back and I will find the moment. I will be able to say: "Pietro Igniseri stole my heart in this moment". Maybe I will not.

My chest is hollow now, that love is gone. Pietro took it with him.

The numbness is beginning to wear off and in its place a rage is building. My love was taken from me and his body is not even in Arx for proper burial. I will see it returned. I will see him home.

Then, I will see the one responsible for taking him from me punished.

By the gods, I will not stop until Tolomar Brand is brought low.

Written By Jasher

Feb. 15, 2017, 7:51 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Leading up to and during the battle against the Bringers and shavs, I was patrolling the coast. On at least five occasions, I came across groups of Abandoned trying to join up with the larger group. I could identify most of them as having come from the Mourning Isles. Why? Just to fight against the Compact or has someone been recruiting them somehow? Were they promised something?

Written By Jasher

Feb. 15, 2017, 7:41 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Aleksei

Who knew that someone who looks like he thinks with his sword - either of them - could actually think? And hold a conversation? He'd make a good agent for the House.

Written By Valkieri

Feb. 15, 2017, 6:31 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Pietro

I was angrier at Pietro more often than I was happy with him. He was ceaselessly and aggravatingly energetic. He had a dog that I freely despised and barred from ever setting foot inside the Palazzo Gemecitta. The dog was -- is, remains -- just like Pietro: exuberant. Prone to inappropriate displays of public affection. Stupidly obnoxious.

I perhaps told Pietro to be quiet more often than I said hello to him. There barely existed a word in his brain that he did not speak aloud. I honestly believed the gods took all of his restraint and composure and poured it instead into reckless bravery and fierce, unyielding devotion.

I did not always like Pietro, but I always loved him. He was as much my brother as Zaccheri was.

Fitting, perhaps, because now they both are dead.

Once, when we were all young, some cousins made the mistake of teasing my sister in front of Pietro. He thoroughly thrashed the lot of them. It marked him, then and forever, as a champion of my family. He wished for more duels than Vincere's voice in his ear would allow him to face; he was never happier than he was when defending the honor of those he loved. It was maddening much of the time. But it meant I have never, not once in my life, doubted him. Pietro was my sword wherever I could not reach.

Every time I called, he came. And he was always first to heed the call.

Written By Valkieri

Feb. 15, 2017, 6:18 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Vincere

I have loved two people in my life. The first was Vincere Igniseri.

When we were boys, I spent hours of every day trying to turn his attention to me. I burned bright and desperate with the sort of intensity that is only truly possible in youth. I threw myself in his path beyond all sense of decorum or respectability until I could claim him as mine.

Vincere was the cleverest man in any room he was in. He saw farther and more shrewdly than anyone else I have known. And he wore his duty with a steadiness that I viciously envied. When his attentions turned to my sister -- years after any romantic connexion between us had run its course -- I was still violently -- ungraciously -- jealous. It took weeks -- months, really -- to see beyond my own selfishness to the truth that laid beyond. How suited they were. How fiercely in love. How they healed parts of each other. How they had a chance for happiness that neither of them expected to have.

Vincere served everyone with ceaseless diligence. He served House Igniseri, he served Houses Rubino and Zaffria, he served House Velenosa, and he served the Crown. When he was publicly shamed and humiliated for his service by the High Council in front of his peers, he offered no reply but patience. Duty. Honor. When others asked for a public apology on his behalf and were refused, Vincere simply collected volume upon volume with his work as Minister of Defense to present to the Crown so that the Ministry's function might continue uninterrupted. When the Council failed to honor his resignation for weeks, he served until such a time as he could be replaced.

Duty. Honor. Patience.

There is no replacement in the world for Vincere Igniseri. He should have been born far higher than he was, for he was the sort of man capable of leading the Compact itself.

He was my vassal, but I would have served him as my liege.

Written By Valkieri

Feb. 15, 2017, 5:51 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Marquis Vincere Igniseri and Lord Pietro Igniseri were the best men that I have ever known.

They came to Quartz Hill to foster with House Rubino when they were thirteen, and we grew from boys to men side by side. We learned leadership and stewardship, swordfighting and warfare, etiquette and diplomacy. Together we were shaped into the nobles that would serve at the whim of our houses. I was never expected to lead my house, and Vincere was never expected to lead so early, but duty is a constant weight on the shoulders of every noble.

It is intolerable to me to seem them reduced to words on a page. There are no words to fully encompass the sort of men they are. I have torn up page after page in my attempts to distill my grief into some sort of memorial. They deserve more. They deserve everything.

They deserved to live.

I do not care what decorum requires of me in this moment. I will force the memory of these two men into the consciousness of Arvum until every single person understands their loss. I will see the Bringers crushed beneath our feet and Tolomar Brand reduced to ash.

I will see them all burn.

Written By Caelis

Feb. 15, 2017, 4:43 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Family dinner was wonderful, to see so many lively faces and bright spirits was warming. Being among kin with the darkness on the horizon is just the remedy I needed to keep my spirits bolstered. I am saddened by the deaths of those who fought with my family and did not return, but it inspires us all to ensure those deaths do not go unanswered by our hands. There is much to consider and prepare for.

May your hopes find safe harbors.

Written By Cassius

Feb. 15, 2017, 4:37 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

The advanced training given to the Knights of Solace proved quite successful in the Battle of Pridehall.

If any commanders are unaware of these tactics, please contact Father Orazio to request support. The Knights stand ready to aid the forces of the Compact, always.

Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS

Written By Eirene

Feb. 15, 2017, 4:18 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Nadia

As I said last night...

Duchess Nadia Nightgold made the North look as glamours as the South.

That's saying a lot coming from a fucking slob like me. I'll miss the spa days...

Every death will drive us harder to defend the living. May hers be no different, and may the living be worthy of her sacrifice.

Written By Calandra

Feb. 15, 2017, 1:34 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Acacia has returned.

I am so happy to have my sister near me.

I feel more compete with her close by.

It is scary times we are facing, but I feel more able to face them with my family close.

My brave and whisper spitfire sister, Acacia.

My hardworking and leading Uncle, Torian

My adorable and witty cousin, Mae

My strong and loyal Uncle, Orathy

The Cullers are together.

In the lower boroughs.

We will make sure it survives this all.

Written By Leona

Feb. 15, 2017, 1:22 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Gabriel

A serious man, he just led a successful campaign against the Bringers of Silence. He did not stop them in entirety - it will take more than his forces to do that - but his forces survived the first engagement, at least. He is a good man, dedicated to the defense of Arx and Arvum, and now more than ever I think his steady, serious hand is both necessary and wise. Let us hope that some of the issues he faces are resolved, and soon.

Written By Juliet

Feb. 15, 2017, 1:07 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Nadia

Life makes fools of us all. We were so busy, darling.


But we found time, didn't we? At last.

I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.

But I'll cherish the memory.


They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.

They said your hair was pristine.

Good.

Written By Freja

Feb. 15, 2017, 12:47 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)

Relationship Note on Nadia

We may have not always seen eye to eye, but a soldier's death is an honorable one. May the Spirits keep and guide you, Duchess.

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