Dear Diary 9
July 9th 2009 17:51
Dear Diary,
We spent most of the day moving our camp. From where we are now we can hear the fighting but we can't always see it. It still makes me feel a lot better just knowing that we have other men on our side around us. We can sleep a little more easily than we could have on the other side of the border-we have allies here, all around us, who will fight with us, set off alarms, fight for us. Out there we were utterly alone.
Kaya is learning quickly still. This is no surprise to me nor to Shalorin; at this point we expect supernatural speed from her. I have yet to hear from my sister, which worries me. It is unlike her to go so long without responding. Perhaps she has much to contemplate. I know in the end she will take in this girl-but it will take planning and effort to make accomodations for her.
Shalorin spends most of his time teaching her now. He is teaching her Appollinian and has begun to teach her martial arts. She will most likely never really be around her own race, around humans, once she leaves the camp. Very few humans have really come into contact with her at all since we brought her. A couple of the younger warriors have asked after her, wondering why she is here; all I have told them is that she is an orphan we rescued, that she will be sent away soon.
The three of us went for a ride throughout the camp after we had moved the camp. We killed a couple enemy soldiers that had leaked past the main line of defense at the border; but we have not truly had to fight since we got here. That is more than a relief to me. It is almost as good as a vacation.
I've been trying to rest and relax as much as I can-as hard as that is. I can hear the fighting now but I'm staying away, resisting the urge to run to the border and help. I know some of my men have gone to fight there by day, though they will return here by night. It is part of our blood that calls to attend to this duty; we have enough men by the border, my presence is not needed.
I have not actually fought in days, and it is such a relief. I have been practicing with my new sword, getting used to the difference in weight and build. Shalorin has been sparring with me; we spar each night briefly before bed, take tea together and then go our separate ways for the night. He has become my closest friend out here.
The healing tents are full and busy; that is one place I dare not go. I know I have the magic, I have the talent. I am more powerful with it than many of the healers themselves. But that is not my job, and really, using my talent drains me too much for me to be able to properly fight. There is so much work to be done, so much involved in this war.
Why do they fight us? Why can they not simply accept that we are not meant to become one country? We were always meant to be separate. It was the original intention of the Gods, before they became truly divided. When the Great Council of legend still stood.
The council is something that has been lost to humanity; they do not know how close our Gods once were. I do not know what divided them.
The following is the mythos of the Council, a small section of it entitled the Great Decision:
The Great Council was dictated by a force unknown, which brought each God and Goddess into the world for their purpose. Bannon was born to bring honour to the Gods and to their people; Raychel born to bring health. Dracon born to bring strength and fire; Loki born to bring tricks and jokes. The Phoenix, a Goddess now long lost, born to bring life and rebirth, wisdom and light to the planet.
The Shadow, born to slither and slide and overhear every word spoken by his enemies. The Demon, of anger and wrath, never named beyond that. Laria, of love and beauty, with eyes like silver that could see into the soul. These were the Gods of Fidolius.
Together these eight formed the Great Council, and together they built the world as we know it; one continent for the Elves, meant to be born separate from man but to live to become close friends to them. One continent for the followers of the Gods, to live in harmony but never as one.
One continent for the free running beasts. Someday perhaps there human life will grow; they will not believe in life or Gods as we know. One continent for the people who want to be free, they pray but always they pray wrongly.
Together the Gods built this world, built these lands, upon them put people to play in the sands; they dreamed this dream, and soon it was born.
The men who followed came together slowly; they began to build kingdoms, separate but close together. The Elves in the distance were cold and distant from even each other. Over time they bonded and grew together, a kingdom forged under a brilliant warrior.
Across the sea came the Elves in brilliant armor; they took land unused and came together. The men were friends but never in worship, though secretly at our making they were filled with wonder.
The Great Council died as the Shadow grew stronger. He tore them apart, ripped them asunder. The Phoenix caved to the pressure; as men waged war she went under, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
New Gods rose and old ones fell; the council died, nothing went well. Now you see this land so different, so torn. This is why men must be reborn.
An old legend written in an ancient style; that is as close to the original myth I can write in plain Appollinian. Now it is time to sleep-I hope the dreamless tea works its wonders.
~Alaendril
We spent most of the day moving our camp. From where we are now we can hear the fighting but we can't always see it. It still makes me feel a lot better just knowing that we have other men on our side around us. We can sleep a little more easily than we could have on the other side of the border-we have allies here, all around us, who will fight with us, set off alarms, fight for us. Out there we were utterly alone.
Kaya is learning quickly still. This is no surprise to me nor to Shalorin; at this point we expect supernatural speed from her. I have yet to hear from my sister, which worries me. It is unlike her to go so long without responding. Perhaps she has much to contemplate. I know in the end she will take in this girl-but it will take planning and effort to make accomodations for her.
Shalorin spends most of his time teaching her now. He is teaching her Appollinian and has begun to teach her martial arts. She will most likely never really be around her own race, around humans, once she leaves the camp. Very few humans have really come into contact with her at all since we brought her. A couple of the younger warriors have asked after her, wondering why she is here; all I have told them is that she is an orphan we rescued, that she will be sent away soon.
The three of us went for a ride throughout the camp after we had moved the camp. We killed a couple enemy soldiers that had leaked past the main line of defense at the border; but we have not truly had to fight since we got here. That is more than a relief to me. It is almost as good as a vacation.
I've been trying to rest and relax as much as I can-as hard as that is. I can hear the fighting now but I'm staying away, resisting the urge to run to the border and help. I know some of my men have gone to fight there by day, though they will return here by night. It is part of our blood that calls to attend to this duty; we have enough men by the border, my presence is not needed.
I have not actually fought in days, and it is such a relief. I have been practicing with my new sword, getting used to the difference in weight and build. Shalorin has been sparring with me; we spar each night briefly before bed, take tea together and then go our separate ways for the night. He has become my closest friend out here.
The healing tents are full and busy; that is one place I dare not go. I know I have the magic, I have the talent. I am more powerful with it than many of the healers themselves. But that is not my job, and really, using my talent drains me too much for me to be able to properly fight. There is so much work to be done, so much involved in this war.
Why do they fight us? Why can they not simply accept that we are not meant to become one country? We were always meant to be separate. It was the original intention of the Gods, before they became truly divided. When the Great Council of legend still stood.
The council is something that has been lost to humanity; they do not know how close our Gods once were. I do not know what divided them.
The following is the mythos of the Council, a small section of it entitled the Great Decision:
The Great Council was dictated by a force unknown, which brought each God and Goddess into the world for their purpose. Bannon was born to bring honour to the Gods and to their people; Raychel born to bring health. Dracon born to bring strength and fire; Loki born to bring tricks and jokes. The Phoenix, a Goddess now long lost, born to bring life and rebirth, wisdom and light to the planet.
The Shadow, born to slither and slide and overhear every word spoken by his enemies. The Demon, of anger and wrath, never named beyond that. Laria, of love and beauty, with eyes like silver that could see into the soul. These were the Gods of Fidolius.
Together these eight formed the Great Council, and together they built the world as we know it; one continent for the Elves, meant to be born separate from man but to live to become close friends to them. One continent for the followers of the Gods, to live in harmony but never as one.
One continent for the free running beasts. Someday perhaps there human life will grow; they will not believe in life or Gods as we know. One continent for the people who want to be free, they pray but always they pray wrongly.
Together the Gods built this world, built these lands, upon them put people to play in the sands; they dreamed this dream, and soon it was born.
The men who followed came together slowly; they began to build kingdoms, separate but close together. The Elves in the distance were cold and distant from even each other. Over time they bonded and grew together, a kingdom forged under a brilliant warrior.
Across the sea came the Elves in brilliant armor; they took land unused and came together. The men were friends but never in worship, though secretly at our making they were filled with wonder.
The Great Council died as the Shadow grew stronger. He tore them apart, ripped them asunder. The Phoenix caved to the pressure; as men waged war she went under, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
New Gods rose and old ones fell; the council died, nothing went well. Now you see this land so different, so torn. This is why men must be reborn.
An old legend written in an ancient style; that is as close to the original myth I can write in plain Appollinian. Now it is time to sleep-I hope the dreamless tea works its wonders.
~Alaendril
| 50 |
| Vote |
Add To: 
subscribe to this blog
