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3580 Divine

About UnBaed

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    opinions of me are fan theories
  • Birthday 12/23/1999

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  1. fear rp is fun to do, unfortunate that people don't do it as often. never enjoy seeing apathetic characters that don't have a reason to be that way
  2. Moliana huffed with irritation as she had to come into the courtyard of Woldzmir every other hour or so, to scare the pigeons and crows away from the shrine to Saint Judith. Unfortunately, they were drawn to the offerings of berries and various shiny trinkets. "SHOO! SHOO! GO ON, GET!"
  3. Sosina Amador embraces her sister as they are reunited in death, commenting, “You did a better job in avoiding the bees than how I did, I’m proud of you. Oh-. . . I’m proud of the other accomplishments too!”
  4. Moliana lit a candle in honor of Ursula's memory within the confines of her subterranean chambers in the depths of the Augustine Palace. She had grown up in the halls of Izvoroshu and is a Cotsofana in everything but blood, for her desire to roam the roads of the known world is the Vasiyevan that has taken shape within the Carrion woman ever since her youth. No matter where the roads took Moliana, and no matter which doors she opened and stepped through... Her heart still yearned to return to the days of her childhood, to be back home in the red castle on the river; to see the distant lights of Sava once the sun dipped beneath the western mountains. Day by day, that memory grew more distant; day by day, Moliana knew she would have to stop looking into the past. Lady Ursula had the divine gift of seeing what may come of the future, Moliana's mind often began to wonder what other fates of this world the Matriarch had come to know before her passing.
  5. I'm sorry that you and I never had the chance to RP as much, or to get to know one another, though I always admired your creativity and drive for creating a narrative. I hope you have a good time away from the server, and find something better to pour your creative energies into that will give you more joy than this server.
  6. What is your favorite color? What is one of your favorite characters you've played (can be a major or minor character) How are you doing today? Tell me about a dream you had one time! What is one of your favorite characters that you've interacted with on the server? What are your thoughts on me?
  7. "I've already packed your swimsuit, darling! Don't forget your cream for that rash," Alexandria called back to her husband, perhaps a touch too loudly as her words caught the attention of a few servants passing by their door in the Haeseni palace.
  8. A younger Moliana plucking the nettles from the soil near Castelul Izvoroshu [Original illustration by: Gordon Robinson] 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. 13th of Malin’s Welcome, Year 41, To do list: Give Josephine Oijin’s medicine Have cobbler repair hole in boot Du Loc has proven to be more interesting than I had anticipated, and Mister Oijin has been nothing but polite - another surprise. Though, perhaps my judgement had been skewed prior because of the manner of our first meeting, years ago. He had welcomed me into the fortress of the Owynist Order that presides over the village, where they keep a rather sizable collection of books (of good quality, too). It was in those archives that we delved into a discussion on the Material Alphabet and what powers can be reached through the use of the alphabet as a form of tool; the language of creation. Yet many regard the alphabet as just a facet of alchemy, nothing more; some even believe it to only be a viable tool for our own realm and no others. I do not believe that to be so, for how else was that crimson pond formed on that foul night? Those words and symbols reached out into the unknown; a call was made out and something responded to it. Should this alphabet have the ability to be sent into the other worlds and weave spells into objects, and bring brilliance to oil in a bottle - surely, it could do far more? It’s all dependent on the Law of Equivalent Exchange (though I wonder if that is still applicable in other dimensions). This Door that Elimar had shown me is surrounded in glowing runes, though I cannot identify them - nor do I know exactly how the Material Alphabet looks, so I am unable to make any connections myself at this moment. Yet if they were used to create a doorway, or to perhaps seal something away, I wonder what was given to receive that product. This does not leave me stumped and stagnant, however. I’ve many theories to pursue and learn from. Yet, that all must wait for now… I shall be arriving in Providence again in the next day; I haven’t gone back home since that incident between Sigismund and my mother. I just wish to forget it all ever happened now. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 15th of Grand Harvest, Year 41, To do list: Give Booker oracle wood tea Prepare cookies for Booker Inquire after the Second How could I have not seen this coming? A child’s mind could not comprehend nor safely contain a life spent amongst so many years, especially if some sights are traumatic; an adventurous life isn’t an easy one lived anyways. To have that selective memory is to protect him. I shall never forget the sounds of his screams when he had opened that box, when all had been revealed to him. What pain has he suffered in his life before, to have caused him to writhe and cry out in such a manner? I managed to reach him when his wails ceased, yet words cannot describe the sickened feeling of dread that sat in my gut when my eyes fell over the boy. He was broken, and I was terrified that there would be no undoing of it. I was ready to offer anything I could and more to bring him back, to restore his mind as it once was; so that I could have my closest friend with me again. He has been with me through everything. To have faced the possibility of forever losing him in that moment terrified me more than anything else. I would be alone, and he would be forever changed and scarred - thus being removed from this plane. And it would have all been my fault. I remain grateful for the Second being able to undo this damage, and for Booker to have the strength to reawaken as he once was. Yet I wonder who else had witnessed the ordeal; as that darkened realm began to dissipate with the Second… I had seen a figure shrouded in dark robes step out from behind the tree. I nearly mistook it for a trick of the mists shifting as they departed, my eyes had also been clouded with a considerable amount of tears. It was all in but a short moment... Yet what sort of mirage would speak farewell? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 11th of The Sun’s Smile, Year 41, Just when I think there’s nothing more to be revealed, another surprise descends from above. My mother is now meant to be an Orenian Empress, being betrothed to the heir of the Imperial Throne; Philip Aurelian. Through the brief conversation I shared with him, my mother, and sister… He seems to be a cordial gentleman, though that is it. I shall doubt I will form any familial bonds with him. It’s an odd thing, to have three fathers in your life by the time you’re twenty… I feel as if more eyes are upon me now, though not in a way that I’d prefer. In the process of this ascension for my family name, other distant relatives in the southern lands have declared claim upon the title that was suddenly bequeathed to Prince Philip and tensions have immediately begun to climb. I have begun to feel a sense of anxiety as I resume my travels, especially in the southern territories; I fear that someone may know of my ancestry and feel as if they may make a point of killing me, to harm my family in the Empire - despite my disinterest in involving myself in such an affair. Perhaps I ought to make plans to reach out to the third, so that I can better defend myself should an incident occur. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 19th of Sun’s Smile, Year 41, So, I have a likeable face. Despite my knowing of Elimar’s care for me, I was rather surprised when he finally admitted them to me - even if he was stuttering and tripping over his words, and only told me how he liked my face and presence… It was nice. Despite that, a part of me is afraid to open myself up again; to trust my heart with another. I am still reeling from the wounds inflicted upon me for how Sigismund had turned away and denied the existence of our love; I cannot turn to another so quickly. To leap into the fray as you lick your wounds leads only to destruction, no matter how much you enjoy the dance of battle or the singing of blades. I care for Elimar, I do. I just hope he can understand the time I need to recover. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 12th of The Deep Cold, Year 41, To do list: Look into braiding styles Seek out a smith for light protection My head pulses still, even though it’s morning now. When I reached my bed, sleep found me quickly though I was restless in my dreams. When I awoke, I felt as if I'd been trampled by a horse - rightfully so, however. The Third made a point in targeting my head during training, was it three hits he had made? I shall take a day to recover, or two. My nose has bruised awfully, and there’s a split upon my lip. Even my own tongue hurts, I think I managed to bite it during that first kick. I don’t know how I shall explain this to mother, I doubt anything I say would quell any of her anxieties for me. Perhaps I could say I’ve come down with an awful cold, to keep her away. She shouldn’t see me like this. I guess this is a sacrifice I must take, in order to become stronger; to suffer through the beatings of the Third and do my best to take in whatever advice he gives in between the blows. Despite his sickening and annoying arrogance… he made valid points. It’s difficult to listen when it feels like he intentionally tries to tick me off, or when he’s ringing my head; I’ve no doubt he takes joy from it too, but I had already expected for this to come. One day, I shall spite him - or actually land a hit on him. I’m still kicking myself for having hesitated before, or else I could have connected a strike, even if it would have been small. It would have still been something, and he couldn’t even deny the fact of being scratched by some ‘inferior’ as me. Yet I still hesitated. I admit I was fearful of harming Booker too, though… I was al--- The rest is scribbled out. I must prepare for the next session. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 27th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 42 To do list: Research the AenguDaemonic deities - Eplieadas Find a tea to treat cold Seek out Elimar It was about a day trip, once we crossed through the borders of Hanseti-Ruska. I knew it couldn’t have been too far, according to the descriptions that book from Du Loc provided. Rubern was in a state of utter decay and neglect when we arrived, with the entrance buried in snow and ice - or collapsed. Fortunately, a hole on the castle’s side grated us entry into what I could only guess was the foyer of Castle Illia. Illia, a name I once connected to an ancestor when I still thought of myself as a true-blooded Cotsofana. A princess of the hidden kingdom of Hazmstadt, Illia ‘the Collector’ had broken away from the kingdom due to some unknown reason (at least, unknown to me). A known thing which makes her departure important is due to the strict nature of Hazmstadt; no one may enter, no one may leave - its location is fiercely kept secret, for its own protection of enemies. A place of great minds and inventors, innovators and scholars; my foster family are proven to live up to such traits, thus only fueling my desire as a youth to achieve a similar greatness. Yet… Now, I wonder who she is to my foster family. Surely, she is real - for why would my grandfather have named an entire, sprawling, and grandiose castle after her in the years past? Despite being in ruins and viewable through the light that shone into the icy caverns which embraced the castle, or by light of Elimar and I’s lanterns, it was breath-taking and imposing. It was said to be displayed as an upside down fortress, though I was unable to see such a view myself - yet it can easily be imagined, for how deep its labyrinthine floors reached down. Elimar had pointed out a curious painting, which had not yet rotted away - it had been positioned in some workshop, which held dusty and complex machines and contraptions I’ve never even imagined before. The painting depicted a graceful, deific figure cupping flame in their hands as they stole away from far more imposing and grand beings. I was reminded of a story shared amongst the Hazmez people, of how mankind was saved from being under the threat of the Abyss and its creatures; of how Eplieades stole the power of fire from dragons and Iblees to gift to man, so that we may flourish and fight against these evils of the dark. The Fourth’s appearance in those dark halls continues to unsettle me. To grin in such a manner, while fusing the look of Elimar and I both… Yet they said it was to inspire comfort, in seeing our own selves. I can only imagine how much this being is detached from humanity; this meeting had hardly been like the first two. Although I had been on edge and near-holding my breath for those first meetings, that was nothing compared to the horror and dread I experienced that night. Perhaps the thick darkness of the abandoned halls of Alimar added onto that. The way Elimar fell to the ground and broke down hadn’t been any help, what has he come to know about the Fourth that I haven’t? How and what could he not remember from their first meeting? Perhaps I had a taste of what he may have experienced that night, though I hardly know how I ought to react to it. It was all just overwhelming… To see those ritual sites, those chambers, those paintings, all of these secrets hidden within the ice and snow; the mark of my family left in a cold, dark corner of the realm - one not meant to be touched again. Yet there I stood, in its heart. Some doors are best left shut, the Second always tells me; yet this one demanded to be opened, as I’m sure many more shall. The Fourth is surely to be present for the rest, to guide me - but to what? The Fourth a curious being. They flood my head with so many questions and uncertainties, demanding answers from me to urge me forth… Am I to abandon my foster family entirely? For what purpose am I wanted for, if I was only taken to distract my father from his grief? Surely, they would not wish for me to become one of them… But what sort of asset am I? What is it about me which makes me so valuable to them, to my grandmother, and to the Fourth? I feel as if I’m on the verge of breaking to contemplate it. If I was meant to die by their hands, they would have done away with me as an infant or child. Why am I still here? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 28th of The First Seed, Year 42, To do list: Prepare a nightglow ink Find a bigger canteen These two months have been better. On the roads and off them, living a wayward day after a wayward day with Booker. The amount of sights he has shown me have been awe-inspiring and breathtaking, to see what wonders of this world exist; of products from civilizations long past and of what the land has naturally formed. It is a needed break. Though I would say the most surprising revelation was Booker’s mention of a family; a brother, to be specific. He had never mentioned anything of the sort before, had he forgotten it for a time or has that memory been one that’s always with him? I would be curious to meet a relation to him, perhaps it could offer me some insight on what the boy and the rest really are. If they are related to Booker, is it only him - or all of the rest? Despite my curiosity with this, I will not press it onto Booker for it is his sole decision to seek out this brother of his should he desire it. My opinion of it has no place to be shared. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10th of Grand Harvest, Year 42 To do list: Measure out blood lotus Trim courtyard hedges, if capable Rest as needed I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at an old woman the same way again, after staring that harpy directly into its beady eyes as it hoisted me into the air. I could hardly hear Elimar’s shouts over its screeching, and my own screams. My shoulders burned with the pain of its talons in me, I sometimes shudder with the thought of reliving it now. How I broke free from its grasp is a wonder, though I know I would have surely died if Elimar had not been there to take me away once I fell. My memory is horribly fuzzy. I had lost so much blood… My coat and shirt beneath were an entirely different shade when I awoke, it had gotten everywhere and I felt so horribly weakened; however, my pain was all gone, save for an ache in my muscles. When I felt for my wrappings on my shoulders, there were none and I felt no stitching or salves or poultices over my injuries. I didn’t even have injuries anymore, just the echoes of them in the shape of jagged and crisscrossing scars of where that harpy once gripped me. When I think back on the incident, all I can recall is Elimar’s voice comforting me as the sun shined over my eyes. Had it been the sun? He has brushed off any of my questions inquiring about it, though I suppose it doesn’t matter much… Whatever he had done, I was saved. Elimar had managed to bring me back to Izvoroshu to recover, he had already prepared me a stew of blood lotus by the time I came to. He had been so attentive and caring… I don’t believe anyone has treated me in such a way before, besides my own mother - but he is different. Hardly ever, did he leave my bedside and was wrought with worry for my well-being and health. His affection for me was proven true, certainly. Perhaps… It is okay to have that person to open yourself up to, to show your weaknesses to. Yet when I had done that to Sig, I was left scorned and I likely remain forgotten for it… Even still, my heart aches and I kick myself for having been such a fool; swearing I shall never be in such a position again. Elimar had once said that he envies the fool in all things. Is it possible to become vulnerable and risk no injury? All of those doubts and worries swirled endlessly in my weary mind, yet they all scattered when he leaned in to kiss me. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 9th of The Amber Cold, Year 42, To do list: Find remedy for bruises Prepare a letter to Jeffrey Find anatomy books I don’t know which is worse, to be hit in the head so much where you can hardly stand properly - or to have the wind knocked out of your lungs twice, where you collapse to your knees. Where his boot met the base of my throat is all blackened and it hurts to speak, and breath! - and sometimes to even roll my left shoulder. I hadn’t even done anything for him to strike me, it had been instant. I will be mindful to hastily back away from Booker before the Third is to arrive again, lest I wish for him to blacken my eye or kick at my knee next! He spoke on and on about weaknesses of the body this time, seeming far less patient and uncaring about entertaining my curiosity and questions. Valid points have been made again, which I intend to pursue; these vital areas are precious knowledge to me in a fight. A warrior with an axe would hardly care for the precision that I require with my knife, yet if I am clever enough I could still topple them. Though, I should be mindful to not get ahead of myself. There was something about the Third that felt different for this meeting, as if he were more distant than he usually is. Though, before he was always sharper and withheld a hidden intent with the way he spoke, as if trying to antagonize or prod at me to the point of acting out. Remained rude and blunt, of course, though that was lacking this time - save for his usual comments on his superiority, which he refused to expand upon. It was hard to tell with that grotesque mask he’s begun to wear, though the feeling is present. He had been very watchful and discerning; however, I know little on what exactly he had been keeping a lookout for. Perhaps my posture? The oddest part of the lesson had not even been that, but the state of his memory with the Fourth. The Fourth had been the one to show him everything in fighting, yet the Third grew fiercely defensive when he realized he knew nothing on who the Fourth really is. I was not about to test the Third’s patience, yet it still nags at me to know. He never even had a real choice in going through these lessons with me, supposedly being forced into them by the Fourth - but why? Sometimes I feel hesitant to continue going up this path, though I know that there is no more turning back; the door has already been opened, and it can never be closed again. If I’m to go through it, I cannot linger in its threshold. I may try my luck in pressing further on the Third for our next session. M.
  9. Molia wishes it would all just end and that people would stop thinking angry things to say about other people across the entire continent; as if such energy was wasted for the type of (virtual) world we all live in.
  10. Sosina Amador, the late Baroness of Mondstadt, grins bigly in death. She had grieved over her lost achievements and aspirations, which were taken with the fateful sting of a bee and a flaring allergic reaction. Yet, now other women of the future may have a chance in reaching what she couldn't; how curious it was for the world to scorn women while other wonders walked upon the realm.
  11. "This feels weirdly out of no where," Moliana said uncomfortably as she skimmed through these short preachings, she wondered if something specifically happened to provoke some of these comments.
  12. Moliana couldn't find her canteen. "Where is it. . ? BOOKER- Did you take my canteen again?" The young woman scowled to herself as she tossed her various trinkets out from the drawer of her nightstand, making an utter mess of her room behind her. She had little care for that right now. "I rested it right here just yesterday! Or rather. . . I THINK that's what I did." The Carrion girl scratched her head and frowned in puzzlement, then tore out the first drawer to begin looking through the second. As she sifted through the various junk she collected in her travels, which were a variety of cheap trinkets of small towns and hamlets; cool rocks and feathers found on the roadside; some sea shells; old or unfinished maps of her design (poorly made). . . Yet a small roll of paper caught her large and cool eyes. Her pale hand reached to free the parchment from the corner, frowning as she recalled what it was; a summons to Hanseti-Ruska by Sigismund. Hands touching, a warm embrace. The sudden memory made her drop the scroll, it gracefully fell back into the drawer - which she kicked shut. Moliana stood frozen for a moment and wrung her hands together, frowning pensively as her heart and mind were drawn back toward that aching past. "It could never be reached again." She turned sharply, her remorseful look hardened as she forced the memory from her thoughts to continue her search. That drawer would not be touched again.
  13. Adelaide the porter of the hotel (a recent hire, still in training) makes the mistake of losing the Duke's luggage, but offers him a coupon for 25% off the final fee should he rent a room for two more days.
  14. Moliana thinks 'of Rivia' is far more practical sounding than Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde, therefore she nods in approval.
  15. Moliana in profile. [Original piece by: 早稻] 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. 24th of The First Seed, Year 40, To do list: Research Alimar name Buy proper cookbook I never imagined I’d share the truth with Elimar and father first. How else could I have made them realize my desire to be understood, to have someone that I can be able to confide in? To be freed of this tangle of and knots of secrets… I know I am likely to guard more secrets the older I get, that this knot is to only grow more taught. Could father have been right in telling me to forget seeking companionship in any shape? That it is better to accept your loneliness and pursue greater things? No… When I had been able to share secrets promised to no one, that tension within me finally grew more bearable. When I look at my father, I see what such a cold life has delivered him to; what it has transformed him into. He is a walking husk, the echo of a man that could have never been. The only thing which drives him onward is his desire for vengeance upon my grandfather Ostromir. Perhaps he was given no choice but to pursue this manner of living, the brief tales he has shared of my grandfather have been nothing but nightmarish and grim; I still hope that I shall never encounter him, nor any who follow him. Due to his own bitter experiences that have inured him to the suffering of life, it had felt like my father viewed me as nothing but a child; a little girl caught up in her dreams who wept over trivial affairs of the heart. Yet now he knows of my struggles, or rather, he has seen a glimpse of them. Still, a sliver of information is better than lingering in oblivion. As for Elimar, I think he remains to be one of the first people who has shared a similar life to myself - to an extent. I almost feel as if he is one of the few people I could ever put my trust into. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 26th of The Grand Harvest, Year 40, To do list: Purchase compass Patch up canteen Research bloody flower Acquire more for Josephine Booker rests now. When I fed him the stew infused with the blood lotus, he had already begun to recover quickly; I shall never underestimate the potency of these herbs again (and perhaps I’ve proven to be a far better cook than baker!). I feel as if I am to blame for his illness. Despite what he is and what he is capable of doing, he is still just a child. I had promised to care for and guard him, yet I almost failed with my lack of desire; my lost drive. It made him vulnerable, and even put the Second unconscious! As for the other two, I am unsure how they fared. I hope they are recovering too. I feel as if I’ve awakened from an endless, circling dream of dead ends and stagnation. I cannot remain idle, lest I lose sight of my desires and risk Booker’s health again. I must ensure he begins to properly care for himself, too. The Second was right about his horrible routine--or lack of one--in washing himself. For too long, I think I have remained in the Augustine. I cannot seek a life of adventure, wonder, and wisdom by roaming these labyrinthine halls forever; I had only intended to stay for the Season, yet a flurry of revelations over the course of that year overwhelmed me and knocked me down. For my sake, and now for the sake of my blood-relatives, I must go out into the world. A threat lurks and leers over my family, a shadow which looms over us all; a shadow in the shape of my undead grandfather. He may not have a single thought or care about my family, good or bad; it’s entirely possible he’s dismissed our existence entirely, yet that all remains unknown. Insight may be provided once my father attempts his deed in slaying him, yet I’ve little faith in his success. I know my father shares a similar confidence to myself, yet he remains unswayed in his decision. He intends to meet his end, his permanent end in this act. I only fear what the ripples of his demise may bring to my family, if any lingering anger wishes to seek more vengeance against my father’s disobedience. Father says I must be the one to protect mother and sister, should that happen. It’s only more reason for me to get back to my ventures, so that I can sharpen my skills. I must be prepared, should the consequences of my father come to bite us in the ankle. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 12th The Amber Cold, Year 40, To do list: Ask father about Vladislav Patch hole in sleeve Give innkeeper a tip for their graciousness Look into water-proofing satchel I suppose I ought to count myself fortunate that this journal wasn’t reduced to trash after falling in that subterranean lake. My begrudging thanks to the Third, for pulling me from those black waters almost immediately. Damn my foot! I can’t believe I had managed to sprain my ankle during that jump, I should have tossed the torch to Elimar first so I could actually see where I was leaping to! That slip through the bridge and the day-long trek to this town only worsened it, I can hardly leave my inn room like this. I won’t even begin to write about this horrid hangover from the Carrion. I must be sure to thank the innkeeper again for his hospitality and aid. Du Loc has proven to be a pleasant surprise on this little venture. 20th of The Amber Cold, Year 40, I’ve been able to venture around the streets of this quaint town, I think I shall be able to travel again by the week’s end. A familiar name I hadn’t realized I’d see here is a fellow named Oijin. Well, he’s more than just a fellow; he’s a skilled alchemist! His books on alchemical legends had always fascinated me as a child, I had always taken great care when it came to dusting their spines and leafing through their pages to check for booklice. He almost didn’t seem real when I saw him with my grandmother, that night of that ritual. It had been a while since its memory resurfaced, yet ever since Elimar showed me that Door… it’s clung to me again. Those wails, those distant cries and calls for my name to step into that crimson pond. When the guests in the inn continue their merrymaking into the smaller hours of the night, their rabble and cheers are almost warped through the floorboards to sound like the voices I heard that wretched night. A side-effect is all it was, for a successfully enchanted boon for the Wizard. I still shudder to wonder what a failure would be; has Oijin seen more nights reminiscent of that first? I don’t think I shall ask him, though I may inquire after the Material Alphabet. His insight could prove useful as I contemplate over the runes of that Door, but I must word myself carefully. For now, I shall plan to return north to conduct more research - and to deliver this lotus to Josephine. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 17th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 41, Sour. Everything always goes sour… A moment of bliss is just that; a moment, and then it’s gone. Is there something wrong with me? Had I brought this unto myself for having not opened up to my mother? No- No, if I had told her everything I could- She would have done the same as she has this week and taken every matter into her own hands. Every decision would be robbed of me, I’d be smothered back into being a pawn, even if it is because of her love for me. I do not need to be saved. She had almost crossed the line before, due to her care for me; when Lililac delivered the news to me of grandfather disinheriting me from the Cotsofana family. She had lashed out at Liliac and spoke of seeking out the Emperor for consequences! I still remain thankful to have been capable of putting a swift end to that, before it worsened. If only I could have done it again. I must go as far south as I possibly can. I can no longer bear to hear the chatter of the Haeseni wedding, I want nothing more to do with the North. Not for a long time… No- Not ever. I don’t think I can ever show my face in Hanseti-Ruska again after how my mother had confronted Sig, after how she told me what he’d said in return to her angry words. Had she even been truthful with me? Those two kisses stolen behind the shelves filled me with such warmth, yet now as I look back over the memory I feel the bitter sting of tears in my eyes and a horrible pain in my chest. Had he always played me for a fool, or was his love true? I shall never know, for it’s all been reduced to naught but ash in my mouth. The list on who I can trust grows smaller and smaller. My letter of farewell to him will be made once I’ve collected myself again. M.
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