A Moth's Ruminations: I

[UnBaed 8957]

 

Spoiler

 

 

A young Moliana Hazmezul by the hearth of  Izvoroshu in the small hours of the morning.

 

The following is a private entry to Moliana’s journal

Please do not metagame the information of this post, unless information is acquired through genuine RP.

 

18th of Malin’s Welcome, Year 38,

 

To do list:

• Acquire fabrics for debut dress
• Sweep first floor
• Practice curtsy 
• Request interview from Magi’s Order now that I’m 18
• Trim courtyard hedges

 

Just don’t think that you know the world as well as you seem to.  Whatever that means, I never imagined I’d find myself in this position.  I feel like I ought to write my thoughts lest I forget myself.  Feels like I’m suddenly being spun around and my eyes are struggling to keep up with the turn of the world.

 

Perhaps I’ve always been spinning, I just hadn’t learned of it.  So much has just been revealed too quickly, but I guess it’s for the best; far better than being lost in the dark and unknown.  Either way, I must choose my steps carefully lest I lose my footing on this path I’ve decided to take.  I just wish there was more of a guide on what I ought to do!  There’s frustrated scribbling on the page.

 

Part of this passage has been efficiently scratched out, making it unreadable.

 

-/.#/. .= m-a.-#/. . thre#. / ##/=,. . -#/. . -##   Or-;=#. / - . .# #., /=-.. #-=?  ##/=,. . -#/. . -## at th-#/=,. . -#/# #.-/ . ./ lo#k =-#. .//ale on=#. // t.--#/. . =-//#si=n#r/ . .-#/=,. . -#/##.-/ . ./ mat-#/=,. . -#/#-#/=,. . -#/##.-/ . ./#.-/ . ./gr/nd-/mo=#. .#.-/ . ./,. . -#/.fee#/=,. . -#/# #a/q. ./,. . in- /# =\,. ter=#. . ./,. .-gain, grandmother's never been the easiest woman to work with.  Always hardened and sharp, firm with her beliefs and sticks to the truth of the world.

 

I’ve always admired her gumption and have respected her throughout the years I’ve been her assistant, even if she can be a little scary sometimes.  I doubt I shall be able to fill her boots, though now I’ve begun to wonder if I even should attempt to do such.  Just the memory of that ritual still gives me chills, and the whole room was turning for me by the end of it - and it was successful!

 

Perhaps that’s just the way of things; with this world--with equivalent exchange.  Alchemists risk blowing up their laboratories and singeing their eyebrows off with their more powerful concoctions, all while working with pure and raw material birthed from this world.  This feels just the same, yet far more extreme. . . Just don’t think that you know the world as well as you seem to.

 

What else could it be?  It makes me wonder why the room changed as it did.  The scent was so strong in the air, sometimes I feel like I can smell the pungent stench of iron or hear those calls in the night just before sleep finds me.  I am then left with a question that scratches at the back of my mind, for which I hesitate to seek out its answer; What lurked in that crimson pond?

 

Maybe I ought to pay another visit to her, to try and gain more insight on these primeval powers.

 

M.H.C.T

 

[HurferDurfer1 2584]

Shobolan Hazmezul makes a mental note to tell Molia to feed the rats in the brood pits and if she did her chores well he might take her to go rob people.