Journal: Carrow #000

I'm now keeping a journal on two characters! My grave cleric Nahuatl and my new wizard Carrow. :) I have to say, the extracurricular stuff is almost as fun as playing the game for me. ^^

~*~

[pre-game entries]

 [There are several pages that have been torn out of the front of the book, seemingly having been repurposed from what it once was. There are scribblings in what seems to be attempted Druidic script, but they are crossed out unceremoniously before the journal begins in Common.]

I can't do it anymore.

Mom pretends to be normal, like all she knows are little parlor tricks: pretty dancing lights, a gust of wind, minor illusions… I know she can do more but she won’t teach me.

Meanwhile Grandma doesn’t let me sit close to the fire at mealtimes. She doesn’t like it, thinks it will corrupt her family or… I’m not sure; she won’t talk about it. She never does.

I think it destroyed her house, or maybe the family library, that’s why we moved in with a bunch of druids, and they don’t much like fire anymore than Grandma does…but I like how it feels, how it sounds: so familiar and warm.

I remember a similar feeling, long ago, but everything else is a blur, but it was important.

I found a book of magic a few months ago, little spells and stuff, different than what they teach here. This I can understand; the symbols look right and the way it’s put together makes sense. (Not to mention it’s actually written down instead of all these oral traditions—I can’t remember them all!)

So I’ve finally decided to leave. No more Grandma telling me what to do or Mom setting me up on weird dates. Soon.

I’m doing this for me.

*~*~*~*

[a few days later]

Grandma found my magic book and took it away. I tried telling her I didn’t even look at any of the fire spells, but she called me a liar and now the whole village heard the argument and she sent me to my room without dinner. I have to copy the family creed all day tomorrow instead of attending my lessons.

I didn’t need the book anymore, though; I was just keeping it for sentimental value.

All I really have to do is keep her away from this journal.

*~*~*~*

[two weeks later]

[There are tear stains on these pages, and the ink is smudged more than the others.]

Grandma slapped me today, in front of everyone. I failed my ceremony.

*~*~*~*

[next day]

I am leaving.

I ran to the woods at first light with as many things I could carry, and I went to where I hid my prized possessions: my journal, my notes on magic, a handful of spell components, and some other things, including a ring I don’t remember where it came from, but… it feels really important, so I put it on a chain around my neck. Maybe someday I’ll find who it belongs to.

*~*~*~*

[The next several entries are few and far between, but she mentions the hardships of travelling alone, some of the odd characters she’s met on the road, and it is only about a week into her journey that she begins mentioning a pull. “The feeling like that of being homesick, but for a place I have never been. I must keep searching.” She finds a ship to take her further away from home, following the aching in her chest and all the while practicing what few spells she has written in her book, as many as she can for as long as she has components. Finally she mentions attempting to use the fire within her to keep her warm the further north—was it north?—she goes.]