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At Last! Ronmael, You Took Your Time!
Bretlyyr 2
It was midday, and we were all swimming in a nearby lake. Broyel was resting on a large rock. I saw Ronmael approach Cole, who nodded, then attracted the attention of Cori and Ray. All three approached the rock, quiet as mice. Broyel, whose eyes were closed, did not notice a thing. Ronmael hid behind a large tree, waited for a moment, then signaled the boys. They clambered atop the rock, and each grabbed an arm or leg of Broyel. When she protested, I heard Cole merrily cry out, "Oh, it's just a dip in the lake. No harm done. Honestly, you haven't touched the water!"
(As a side-note, I saw Cori's expression as the lifted her off the rock. It was amazing. A whole other person was hiding behind that sullen scowl of his. It was as if his face suddenly became exposed to light, when all his life it had been in shadow. A lopsided grin was plastered across his face, and his eyes were sparkling and full of life.)
They swung her out toward the lake, but didn't let go. Back and forth she went, all the time laughing, "Boys! Put me down! Help!" When at last her momentum was great enough, they let her loose, and she soared through the air and landed with a splash in the lake.
Ronmael waited till her sodden head came above the water, then charged the boys, waving a wooden sword and yelling with words of scrolls from olden times, "Dost mine eyes decieveth me? For those young men yonder hath let fly a beautiful lady into the water-filled depths!" He began dueling them, fiercely, and, one by one, the boys were pushed by (faked) superior swordmanship into the lake. Broyel remained treading water where she had landed. Ronmael looked at her with such tenderness, I knew that this was much more than just a childish game. "Fear not," he cried triumphantly, "I shall rescue you, fair flower!" And with those words, he dove into the lake and swam strongly towards her. In a moment, Broyel disappeared under the waves.
Soon, they reappeared on the far shore, both laughing heartily. "I have never seen such a radiant beauty!" Ronmael exclaimed. "Even this flower holds not a candle to her." He reached behind him and pulled out a single, red rose. Around it's stem was a ornate band of silver, engraved with swirls and set with tiny pearls. He knelt before her, and handed her the rose. While she stared, unbelieving, at the flower's gift, Ronmael asked her softly, "Broyel, darling, will you give me the most extreme honor and highest pleasure I could ever ask for? Will you marry me?"
I watched crystalline tears fall from her hazel eyes. "Ronmael," she whispered, "How could I refuse?"
A great roar came from those gathered on the shore, and the two newly-engaged lovers rode back to camp on our shoulders.
It was midday, and we were all swimming in a nearby lake. Broyel was resting on a large rock. I saw Ronmael approach Cole, who nodded, then attracted the attention of Cori and Ray. All three approached the rock, quiet as mice. Broyel, whose eyes were closed, did not notice a thing. Ronmael hid behind a large tree, waited for a moment, then signaled the boys. They clambered atop the rock, and each grabbed an arm or leg of Broyel. When she protested, I heard Cole merrily cry out, "Oh, it's just a dip in the lake. No harm done. Honestly, you haven't touched the water!"
(As a side-note, I saw Cori's expression as the lifted her off the rock. It was amazing. A whole other person was hiding behind that sullen scowl of his. It was as if his face suddenly became exposed to light, when all his life it had been in shadow. A lopsided grin was plastered across his face, and his eyes were sparkling and full of life.)
They swung her out toward the lake, but didn't let go. Back and forth she went, all the time laughing, "Boys! Put me down! Help!" When at last her momentum was great enough, they let her loose, and she soared through the air and landed with a splash in the lake.
Ronmael waited till her sodden head came above the water, then charged the boys, waving a wooden sword and yelling with words of scrolls from olden times, "Dost mine eyes decieveth me? For those young men yonder hath let fly a beautiful lady into the water-filled depths!" He began dueling them, fiercely, and, one by one, the boys were pushed by (faked) superior swordmanship into the lake. Broyel remained treading water where she had landed. Ronmael looked at her with such tenderness, I knew that this was much more than just a childish game. "Fear not," he cried triumphantly, "I shall rescue you, fair flower!" And with those words, he dove into the lake and swam strongly towards her. In a moment, Broyel disappeared under the waves.
Soon, they reappeared on the far shore, both laughing heartily. "I have never seen such a radiant beauty!" Ronmael exclaimed. "Even this flower holds not a candle to her." He reached behind him and pulled out a single, red rose. Around it's stem was a ornate band of silver, engraved with swirls and set with tiny pearls. He knelt before her, and handed her the rose. While she stared, unbelieving, at the flower's gift, Ronmael asked her softly, "Broyel, darling, will you give me the most extreme honor and highest pleasure I could ever ask for? Will you marry me?"
I watched crystalline tears fall from her hazel eyes. "Ronmael," she whispered, "How could I refuse?"
A great roar came from those gathered on the shore, and the two newly-engaged lovers rode back to camp on our shoulders.
Jimmy
Yiithla 26
Clare has been acting strange lately. I've heard her crying quietly at night, and Clare never cries. Something is amiss, I am sure of it.
I think it may be Jimmy's fault.
Jimmy left for a combat mission, alone, by order of the Redmatt Counsel, two nights ago. Clare vehemently protested when he told us he was going. She believes he might not come back. In truth, his trip does lead him through some rather dangerous places, but Clare is seeing the worst case scenario. I shall return momentarily.
Later,
I have just spoken with Clare, asking her why she was crying. At first she was furious, and told me to leave at once, but I persisted. I sat down on the edge of her bed, and was immediately tackled by my sister. I almost defended myself against her, but I slowly realized that her angry shouting in my ear was actually sorrow-filled sobs. "Caiti, it's awful! Simply awful!" was all she managed before utterly breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs. Not being a very touchy person myself, I felt rather awkward, but I hugged Clare and rocked her back and forth, like a mother with a weeping babe. This went on for several minutes, until Clare had composed herself enough to, between hiccups, tell me all she feared. Her words still ring in my ears-
"When Jimmy left, (hic) I went to go protest to the Red(hic)matt (hic) Counsel (hic), but I ran into Ray. His face (hic) was all pale, so I (hic) asked him what was wrong. (hic) *clears throat* He told me that he'd seen some sort of vision, an awful vision! He said that he'd seen Jimmy (hic) getting- g-getting... murdered!" And she broke into fresh sobs.
It was like I was in a trance. Jimmy? Killed? Impossible! Jimmy had been in our lives since who-knew-when! Jimmy wouldn't...couldn't....
I detached myself from Clare, told her to get some rest, and walked back to my tent before she could do anything more than hiccup. I walked like one brought back to life, stiffly and jerkily, over to the blackthorn desk and to this journal, where I began writing what had just transpired. I thought what Clare had said over, and caught something I had missed earlier- how did Ray kno- I mean, think he saw Jimmy's death? In order to do that, he would have to be a Seer! But he isn't... or is he?
Much, too much, has happened in too small an amount of time. I must try to get some rest, though I doubt I shall ever fall asleep.
Clare has been acting strange lately. I've heard her crying quietly at night, and Clare never cries. Something is amiss, I am sure of it.
I think it may be Jimmy's fault.
Jimmy left for a combat mission, alone, by order of the Redmatt Counsel, two nights ago. Clare vehemently protested when he told us he was going. She believes he might not come back. In truth, his trip does lead him through some rather dangerous places, but Clare is seeing the worst case scenario. I shall return momentarily.
Later,
I have just spoken with Clare, asking her why she was crying. At first she was furious, and told me to leave at once, but I persisted. I sat down on the edge of her bed, and was immediately tackled by my sister. I almost defended myself against her, but I slowly realized that her angry shouting in my ear was actually sorrow-filled sobs. "Caiti, it's awful! Simply awful!" was all she managed before utterly breaking down into heart-wrenching sobs. Not being a very touchy person myself, I felt rather awkward, but I hugged Clare and rocked her back and forth, like a mother with a weeping babe. This went on for several minutes, until Clare had composed herself enough to, between hiccups, tell me all she feared. Her words still ring in my ears-
"When Jimmy left, (hic) I went to go protest to the Red(hic)matt (hic) Counsel (hic), but I ran into Ray. His face (hic) was all pale, so I (hic) asked him what was wrong. (hic) *clears throat* He told me that he'd seen some sort of vision, an awful vision! He said that he'd seen Jimmy (hic) getting- g-getting... murdered!" And she broke into fresh sobs.
It was like I was in a trance. Jimmy? Killed? Impossible! Jimmy had been in our lives since who-knew-when! Jimmy wouldn't...couldn't....
I detached myself from Clare, told her to get some rest, and walked back to my tent before she could do anything more than hiccup. I walked like one brought back to life, stiffly and jerkily, over to the blackthorn desk and to this journal, where I began writing what had just transpired. I thought what Clare had said over, and caught something I had missed earlier- how did Ray kno- I mean, think he saw Jimmy's death? In order to do that, he would have to be a Seer! But he isn't... or is he?
Much, too much, has happened in too small an amount of time. I must try to get some rest, though I doubt I shall ever fall asleep.
Apologies
Sorry about the problems this blog is having. I'm not sure what it is that makes the spacing disapear. Sorry again!!
Soaring with the Birds
Yiithla 22
I've composed this poem-
I've composed this poem-
Soaring
I long to fly with the birds,
to feel the clouds caress my face,
as I go swooping by,
forgetfull of the scolding words
on the ground below.
I long to float somewhere
between sun and sky,
in that place you can only go in dreams.
Lay about without a care,
daydreaming and half-asleep.
Doing this is what I yearn for,
my one and only dream.
My hope for a brighter tomorrow
than the day before.
To fly among the birds, my wish.
Obviously, this is not something worth keeping. I am no poet, yet it holds a sentimental value to me. It's my dream, as the poem states, to fly. I don't know what is so inviting about it, it just seems to be in my blood; the want, the desire, to fly with the eagles. I've always loved birds for their freedom. But the only birds I'd ever seen in England were pidgeons and brave mockingbirds. The occasional chicken also came my way, but they were always dead. Madam Fat-bottom doesn't like alive animals.
Father's Locket
Yiithla 19, in the year of the triplet princesses' return to Leslan
I am, at the moment, sitting in the branches of an apple tree, writing in this journal and watching Lord Furiosis help Cori perfect his jump-and-cleave-an-enemy-in-half. Ah, Cori. Let me describe this miracle I'm witnessing-
I am, at the moment, sitting in the branches of an apple tree, writing in this journal and watching Lord Furiosis help Cori perfect his jump-and-cleave-an-enemy-in-half. Ah, Cori. Let me describe this miracle I'm witnessing-
Furiosis- No, Corinath, you jump first. The momentum of your jump
is what keeps your sword from becoming stuck in the dummy.
(demonstrates jump and neatly cuts a straw-filled dummy into ribbons)
Cori- Yes, Lord Furiosis. (blows hair away from his eyes. Sunlight turns
his hair bright gold)
Furiosis- (shakes head) You know, I think you're making this hard on me
on purpose. Is something wrong?
Cori- No! Everything is perfectly fine! (says quickly)
Furiosis- Are you sure?
Cori- Yes! I mean, no... to be completely honest, I don't know.
Furiosis- (places hand on Cori's shoulder) Is it about a girl?
Cori- (looks at Furiosis in amazement) How'd you know?
Furiosis- (smiles knowingly) So, what's troubling you?
Cori- (sighs) It's the princesses'. Do you really think that three
girls will be able to defeat Xivuu? All by themselves? He's as
destructive as a hurricane! (looks down) Believe me, I know.
Furiosis- Ah yes. Corinath, nobody compares you to him. There
is no resemblance between the two of you.
Cori- I can't sleep at night. I keep hearing his voice, always saying
the same thing. He's always saying "Corinath, why did you desert
me in my time of need? We could have ruled all Leslan!" (takes
shaky breath and rubs eyes) Can I go now?
Furiosis- (adopts affectionate tone) Of course, Corinath. Just
remember- if you need assistance with anything at all...(cleaves
another dummy in half) just let me know.
Cori- Thanks. (walks away)
I'm not sure what to think about this. Cori's related to Xivuu? Our greatest enemy? Why hasn't he gotten kicked out of camp yet? But I can't be too harsh on him. He sounded genuinely terrified when he spoke about hearing voices at night. Also, I don't think that Cori could ever be evil. Maybe I should tell someone... no, I can't risk doing anything that could hurt Cori. I'll mull this over...
Back to the original purpose of this diary entry- Father's locket. When we arrived in Leslan, My sisters and I each received one of our parent's belongings. Courtney got Mother's ring- a beautiful work of art and a gift from an Elf, I am sure. Clare got Mother's shawl, but it's not just any shawl. It's magic-imbued, so it provides heat in cold, coolness in heat, shall never rip or tear, and deflects any thing that intends to do harm to the wearer. It's a beautiful pattern too. Apparently, our father didn't own many things that withstood the castle's burning, so I got Father's only surviving possession- his locket. It's made of gold, shaped like an egg, and fits in my palm perfectly. When I opened it, I was met with the most spectacular sight- my father. He was small, and looked like a wisp of smoke. I heard a faint but sturdy voice in my head saying "Child, close the locket. I'm not strong enough to stay in here when it's open. But just remember- I'm always here for you." I think a fragment of my father's spirit is in the locket. It glows and feels soothingly warm from time to time, and gets ice-cold when danger is near. It's very handy, and I feel safe because I know that my father is watching over me.
The Boys
Yiithla 18, in the year of the triplet princesses' return to Leslan
Cole and his brothers are definitely the greatest source of entertainment at the present time. Of course, Corinath and Enrayus aren't technically Cole's brothers, but they might as well be.
Cole and his brothers are definitely the greatest source of entertainment at the present time. Of course, Corinath and Enrayus aren't technically Cole's brothers, but they might as well be.
The three reasons I'm acting friendly to Cole and Cole only-
1. He's easy to get along with.
2. It's easier for me to find similarities with boys. I suppose that I was the most like my father.
3. Enrayus is too solemn and book-ish for my liking. And Corinath seems very distant and somewhat moody, like he doesn't wish to be here.
I feel like I should be fantastic friends with all three, we've been through so much together. Traveling through time and space from England to Leslan is no picnic, after all. But Enrayus is too serious to appreciate my prankster ways. Corinath- well, I'll get to him later. Cole is the only boy who isn't constantly talking about some stupid prophecy, which is a plus. But he isn't a natural trouble-maker, so I don't have much to relate to with him.
About Corinath. In a word- 'absolute perfection'. Wait, that's two words. Oh well. I've never had a crush on a boy before, which makes Courtney assume that I'm mentally insecure. Lately, I've begun to agree with her. My cheeks flush whenever he looks at me, I work extra hard to be pleasant when he's around, and I've taken to referring to him as Cori in my mind, although he is known as Corinath to everyone. I am disgusted with myself!!
More on Cole-
He's an artist. How did I learn that? I was sitting beneath a tree with this journal, trying to draw portraits of the Boys and my sisters and I, and failing miserably. Cole sits down, looks at the pages of scribbles, and takes the journal and pencil from my hands. In a matter of minutes, my head is drawn beautifully on the page. I sat, astounded, as he placed the book on my lap and said "There you go! No offense, but that didn't look anything like- well, a face." Ah, memories.
The light is fading, so I bid these pages a good night.
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