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Twenty-Four weeks since my awakening. (3-16-01)
ue to yet another relapse in my health, I have been unable to pen to this journal for some time. It feels good to hold the quill again. There is much to speak of in this entry, for so much has happened in the past month.
Most recently I read an announcement by Corporal Petris informing the denizens of the Outer Bailey of his resignation, and the appointment of Amsman Philo to replace him. It seems that I was wise in ending the rift between Corporal Philo and myself when I did. Not only is he an honored guest, but he holds the position of leader of the Watch, our most faithful law enforcers of the Outer Bailey. I have no doubt recent happenings will keep him most busy in this new capacity.
Just this past Moon’s day ser Sansamor was poisoned! The prick of a thorn of a beautiful flower, was the deliverer of the mater. Perhaps a valuable lesson that beauty and purity do not always go hand in hand. My facts are rather vague on the incident, as it happened while I was very ill within my room, but I believe it took place near the end of the dancing lesson he gives so skillfully on that day’s eve. I cannot help but think, what may have happened if I had been present… Was that flower meant for him?
I do not know ser Sansamor well, but well enough to say I know him. That is, I feel I know his character. He is elegant, refined, a skilled dancer, and quite proper in all his actions. No doubt one day to walk as one of the accepted within the Inner Bailey. I know him not to have a single enemy. So why was he deliberately poisoned so? Was the flower meant for another who frequents his lessons? A sera who, despite her elegance and grace, seems to disturb some in her actions? I can only thank the Gods for making me too ill to attend the lesson. In my present condition, I have no doubt I would not survive such a vile act, should I have come into contact with the poisoned blossom.
I suppose I should write about the most important event to have happened this past month. Per the instructions of the Priestess, known only to the seekers who would perform these tasks, I attempted to carry out three acts of kindness one week past.
I have always wanted a Lady in Waiting. Someone to care for my every need. Someone to dress me, bathe me, address the numerous and pointless letters I receive, and to read to me only those of most import, then write what I speak as a response. As a kind gestured, I offered such opportunity to any whom would accept it. I am normally most kind and thoughtful, but this act was beyond even my usual grace. But the Priestess had asked it. To my surprise, only two seras wished to take me up on my offer. Yet, numerous more would criticize my actions.
I am surprised so many are against acts of kindness within this grand castle. And as I have no doubt a sera of my bearing, destined to be a great Lady of the Castle, should have such maids, I defended my action. Sera Aeriale in particular seemed to attack not only myself, but alluded to displeasure in the attitudes of the other mages as well. She seems a most hateful type! Who would not wish kindness expressed to newly awakened. Most improper I should say.
Thankfully, I was not alone in this fight. Elea, as clever as she is, mentioned that I was very weak from the binding, and that an ‘assistant’ would help me in my day to day affairs to overcome my continued poor health. She is perhaps my greatest ally. And most clever of mind. While this is true, an ‘assistant’ would help me overcome some of the more arduous tasks, it had not occurred to me. I had thought simply, that a sera of my bearing, with my destiny, should have a Lady-in-Waiting. One, perhaps two. No more, for I am not yet recognized as royalty in this place.
With this new fact brought to my attention, I felt I had a solid case to defend myself. Yet, sera Aeriale has most improperly pressed her unfair objections. I have kindly offered her a chance to retract her words, and not have her embarrassed before the entire castle as a bitter loser of an honorable duel, but she has not yet done so. I fear there may be no course of action left to me except to have my champion prove me right by the drawing of blood.
Seventeen weeks since my awakening. (1-28-01)
ast eve sera Addreama did challenge me in a most unique manner. She seemed to think I was incapable of acting as a simple commoner for four bells. Having given a most remarkable performance in my audition for ser Harwood’s play, I had no doubt that I could perform the task with ease. To my painful realization, I had underestimated the trials. Reality quickly mended that. A lesson they think I learned, and I did. Yet, perhaps it was not the one they thought: Never underestimate rabble. Even the most lowly of servants can have a cunning mind.
The challenge got off to a brisk start, my memory of the first hour is a blur. I remember being hugged, and having to return those hugs in a proper fashion. I did return them, if perhaps a bit stiffly. At first it was just sera Addreama, and perhaps a few others. But then Retribution had to show up. Not only did he hug me, he had the nerve to kiss me! As I was playing a role…I did kiss him, but most briskly. I shall endeavor to block that memory from my mind for all time. Perhaps I shall burn this page of my journal after I have spewed all of this upon it.
Just when I thought things could not get any worse, that barbarian of a man ser Duren had to show up. He had already expressed his eagerness to hug me in a friendly fashion twice before. Hugging is not something I am accustomed to. Certainly not on a regular basis. Yet, however improper, it is difficult to stop him for his size, and my poor health. And while I had planned to speak of him about it most sternly, I could not at the moment for honoring the spirit of the challenge. So there I was, in a position I had not dreamed of in my darkest of nightmares: sandwiched between Retribution and Duren in a friendly embrace. May the Gods protect them from my vengeance.
Though, I should note ser Quondam, ser Twulf, and of course my dear Andrew did what they could to make the challenge as pleasant as possible. I shall have to remember their efforts.
The rest of the challenge was not bad at all. Dancing is a social grace any sera of good bearing should be quite familiar with. I danced most pleasantly with ser Robert, and I dare say he was not a poor dancer. Unfortunately, due to my continued poor health from the binding, I could not dance for long. Before I knew it, the challenge was over and I emerged a bit shaken, but victorious. And perhaps, I learned it is okay to..let oneself appear vuln— no, that is nonsense.
My prize, in addition to the satisfaction of realizing my own acting talents, a pouch and a piece of cake from the Winter Ball. I never did have a piece of the cake, and regretted that I had not. Now I do, after I collect it from sera Margaret who holds it for me.
Fifteen weeks since my awakening. (1-18-01)
here is not much to pen about this week. Life goes on within Castle Marrach. Andrew is busy with collecting stories, and smoothing over the incident of the storytelling contest. Duren and I continue to exchange heated words and I continue to teach my magic classes. But I will say I was impressed with the students I had this past week, for both of my lessons. It will be a shame when they fail to prove themselves to contain the innate ability of magic, as is likely to happen.
There was one other thing that may be worth writing about.
Last eve I did hear someone speak of a shade they encountered only recently. It caused me to recall my own encounter with a spirit a few weeks past. I was walking along the battlements, near the guestrooms. I was alone, save for my only companion the wraithlike wisps of my icy breath. My cloak held tightly around me, I was pacing about lost in deep thought when, for some reason, I decided to glance behind me. And there it was.
It seemed to swiftly create itself out of air and sent a deathly chill deep within my bone. I felt like I should flee, but the translucent gaze of the vaguely manlike shape held me fast. The vague shape, long and thin, suggestive of a tall broad-shouldered man, seemed to be angry and confused. And as I stood there, powerless to flee despite my eager limbs, the singular figure did pull apart into several figures, and then rejoin.
When the shadow did construct itself again, it was still the figure of an angry and confused man, yet it was more blurred and uncertain. I asked the figure if it could speak. It answered me only by covering its face where a mouth should have been, and then raised one hand-like wisp to its throat. I thought perhaps this spirit's mortal body had been brought to an end by being strangled. Yet, when I suggested as much, I seemed to sense a negative reaction to the comment. The shadow pointed at the Castle, and before I could ask what it meant by this, it hunched over, suddenly shorter, and a long wisp suggested a beard.
Just as quickly the shadow stood tall and straight, and drew a wraithlike sword! I shrank quickly from this phantom blade and just as rapidly the sword dissolved into a mist and the shadow seemed more slender.
Not only slender, but small. It seemed a child! A child shade! In a castle where I have been told no children can be had! The child held out a vaporous book that quickly dissolved into a mist. Then the shadow clutched itself, as if in pain, then slumped into a low pool on the ground. Roland, I can only assume.
The shadow did reform itself in yet another incarnation. A flickering shadow, vaguely manlike. The shadow glanced at the east door and did nod. I followed its capturing gaze to the door, and when I looked back it seemed to nod urgently.
The shadow pulled apart into several indistinct figures, then re-formed again, and pointed at me and then to itself. The shadow pulled apart into several indistinct figures, then re-formed again. An act I was uncomfortably getting used to. The shadow stared intently at me and shook its head sadly. It then dissolved into vapor, frayed swiftly into a thousand gossamer filaments, and vanished into the cracks in the walls.
I have spent many a sleepless night walking the halls trying to discern some meaning from the ghost. Walking, I might add wisely, far from the battlements. Was it a warning of what may await me if I kept on some path I was following? Was it asking for my assistance? I fear I shall never understand what the apparition was attempting to communicate.
Fourteen weeks since my awakening. (1-8-01)
Andrew gave me this book four days past, and during that encounter I did have a chance to speak to him about this matter of a challenge to duel by Corporal Petris. After speaking with the Lord Chamberlain and hear him only reinforce my own fears that having such a challenge to linger could only hurt Andrew’s position, I thought it may be best for Andrew to apologize and get this business behind us. My reasoning in this is sound.
Andrew would have to find a champion most skilled with a blade indeed for his cause to be proven through this duel. He has failed to find such a champion. I think less damage would be done if he would just apologize and have this business go no further, than to have him proven in error should his champion lose. In truth, I fear the Gods may indeed side with Petris, and my Andrew embarrassed before the entire Outer Bailey. Yet, I did not speak this to him. I was surprised to learn that he also had considered the possibility of apologizing to the Corporal. And if he is to apologize to the Corproal,I decided that I had my own apology to make.
I thought it wise I should apologize to Armsman Philo, after I did speak most unkindly to him for the eagerness and lack of hesitation he showed when he accepted the Corporal’s request that the Armsman second him. It was awkward to apologize at first, for it is not an act I am used to, but I was able to muddle my way through. I was pleasantly surprised that the Armsman was most understanding of my actions, and dismissed them quickly. I hope he and I will become allies again. Not only is he an honored guest, but he holds the rank of Armsman. A valuable ally indeed.
On another subject, I did teach my second lesson of magic this Saturday past. The lesson went fairly well I suppose. Yet, I do wonder, why so many newly awakened choose to follow the path of Magick only days after awakening. I would prefer they have had spent a week or more about the castle before deciding on this path. It is most unique from any other paths I know in the castle, and newly awakened may benefit from the experiences of other mages within these walls. Even the untalented mages, as sour they may be, would give the newly awakened some insight into what price our art does charge.
An interesting thing did happen this week. It began almost a week past. Ser Duren and I did have a heated exchange. I find the man to be most odd. He does go on about mages and battles and mages needing warriors or some nonsense. I swear to the Gods, that I do not understand this one. Magick? For battling? For physical violence? There are so many other worthy efforts it could be used for. Indeed, muscle and brute strength and the obvious confrontations they would be used for are not the only ways to further oneself. And in a castle such as this? The most dangerous enemies are not quite so uncircumspect as to show their most treacherous weapons to all. There are far more perilous weapons than those that can be held and touched. I fear this Duren and that Haemos character will find it most difficult to adjust. As is evident from his confrontations with many of the mages.
Indeed, I think it was in the presence of Apprentice Benedict that Duren spoke a curse on all the mages! Not a group, in its entirety, one would want to make enemies with! Yet, perhaps he realized the error of his ways for, three days later, he did bring an end to himself.
Yet, just yester eve, I did run into him outside my guestroom. If that necromancer does not work with most rapidity. I will have to thank him for that.
Thirteen weeks since my awakening. (12-31-00)
Much has happened in these past thirteen weeks. I have been apprenticed to the Lady Serista, cursed by an unknown force, encountered a shadow or shade numerous times, healed mysteriously from the curse, found myself to be Magick talented, fallen desperately in love, and been given the responsibility of teaching an additional lesson of Magick. And that is only what comes to mind as I pen upon this scroll!
Most recently there has been a mass infestation of rats. I have not seen a rat that many have spoken of, but I have been told that there is one quite larger than the others. In fact, it has bitten many that it has come into contact with. There are some guests running about trying to get a glimpse of the diseased creature. I think I shall leave the chasing of rats to those who think their talents worthy of such a task. I’m certain there must be other, more worthy, endeavors a sera of my bearing might occupy herself with. Such as the customary traditions I must carry out for my courtship with Chronicler Andrew.
Chronicler Andrew. My betrothed, who I thought to be dead, and lost to me eternally, yet did come again to me. The first person I have been able to witness to rise to the status of honored guest, my dear Andrew has a position at the Royal Court of Honor! Yet, even with such status in the castle, his life is in danger once more. That brute of man, Corporal Petris, did challenge my gentle Andrew to a duel as a result of words spoken in most haste. With the Queen’s guests being bitten by sick rats, one might think the Watch would have more pressing matters to tend to than to challenge one so gentle to a contest of violence! Yet, I hold some hope that the matter may be resolved still, if the seconds do their job with the haste and sense of mind that is demanded in such a duty.
Well, it is almost time for some party being held this eve. I think it was said to be a party to celebrate the Tanabata Stars. I doubt that there will be anyone of title or status there, but it may still be wise to make a showing. Fashionably late of course, perhaps by half a bell or more. I would not wish to arrive with the rest of the rabble. And as the party is yet only a bell from this writing, I should begin to get ready. Without the assistance of servants that I will no doubt one day have, it will take me some time to prepare myself.
ell, a week has passed since I have started this chronicle and much has happened. One pleasant thing is that Andrew did give me this book upon which to scribe my thoughts. It will be a tight fit, but I think I can hide this book behind the same lose stone I was able to hide the scroll upon which I wrote my first entry. This is fortunate, for I would not want any of the servants or intruders to find these words.
t has been thirteen weeks since I have come to this wondrous place, and thought it wise I began to keep a journal. A place to reflect from time to time. Yet I shall attempt to keep this account of my life in Castle Marrach hidden well in my room. I have noticed a lose stone in my room that I think I should be able to hide this record from the zealous cleaning efforts and adventurous eyes of the chambermaids. It would not be wise to have such chronicle known to all.