| Reader Note: This has been
| written the back
| of his spellbook.
I don’t know how to write a journal, I’m not an Elf or Dwarf wizard. Growing up I ready old poetry from the Dwarves, but I gave that book to Brother Malkin.
Men far better, more eloquent write journals, pen great tales, and become the shadows of legends that future heroes will follow the foots in. Hoomans and Elves will pen pretty tales that Terramore Gleba will sing to show young couples how to love.
I know not how to do either, I know why my companions feel a closer kinship with each other than I, though, its not their fault. They can look each other in the eye, and through that connection to the heart and soul they understand each other.
The human I respected most – Ser Quixis – is gone among the world becoming an even greater hero than I can put ink to parchment.
The elf I respect, care and love most is gone and I may never see her again – Iana – she was the women that healed my heart and made me realize I could love someone else. She is the reason I am happy Luur’na was able to find love with my step brother. I owe her so much more than I can say, but it would never work permanently, still I want for her and Azariel to either be happy together or happy with someone.
I can’t even write that while I can admit to loving Iana, I am no more in love with her than I am Luur’na. However, without her I would not be capable of loving again.
May the gods grant her happiness.
>>> Written by Xerx’ses Goldenflail,
upon the witching hour twixt 28th / 29th of Pegasus the year 111. <<<
Picture from Nikita Darkstar.