A beat up old leather bound journal.

[Aeiara Traselghan]

<The journal before you sits, the leather cover worn by handling and use. As you flip through the pages your eye catches the tidy Common that most of the book is penned in. You flip to the most recent entry, some time seeming to have passed between the last one written and this one - the fading of the ink being a good indication of that.>

It's been a while since I've written in this old thing, maybe I should begin again. It always helped me calm down when I was younger.

Hah. Younger. Am I really that much older? It seems like so long ago that all I worried about was the occasional argument with my father and the condition of my clothing. Now everything from then seems so insignificant.

I don't feel 16. A 16 year old complains about his parents and the way they don't let him have his own weapon, or whines about being scolded for being out too late to his circle of equally mentally impaired friends. I can read this stupid little book and think back on those days, and laugh at how foolish I was.

Maybe I'll keep writing in this thing, so that when I'm old and my hair's turned grey, I can read it and laugh at myself then, too, at how idiotic and childish I am now. If I live that long, which at this point, it doesn't look like I will.

<A line is drawn in black ink to mark the end of that entry.>

[Aeiara Traselghan]

<The next page seems to have been sneezed on while it was being written on.>

I forgot how unpleasant having a cold was. My head feels terrible and I can barely breathe through my nose. I'm sneezing quite a bit as well. I suppose that this whole thing is in part due to my training in Feralas of late, and the fact that there, it rains ALL THE DAMN TIME.

Early this morning I heard of what had happened to Sairia and Satturos. I don't know them well, but there are a lot in the regiment that do, and they are all feeling the loss acutely. I can't imagine what that would be like for the both of them. I've known loss, but not such a frightening one as that.

I got annoyed at Despil earlier too. He can get very immature and annoying sometimes, kind of like a stubborn child in a way. Sometimes he doesn't think about what he's doing at all. I know everyone has moments like that, but for him it's more of a constant thing. I wish I hadn't said what I had in the way that I did, because I know it hurt him, but he does need to think before he leaps, so to speak.

I should go drink a potion and take a nap or something. Colds suck utterly.

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[Aeiara Traselghan]

<This next entry looks sort of scribbled, and is in pencil rather than ink.>
I feel like I'm losing him.

I don't think I'm very good at holding a relationship together. I've told him the entirety of my thoughts and feelings and still he lies or refuses to tell the whole truth unless I pry. Why doesn't he trust me? Is he lying about his feelings too?

I don't know if I can be strong anymore. I've offered to help and tried to be understanding, but I miss the moments where we would finish each others' thoughts and sentences like we were the exact same person. People think we're in it for sex or something crude like that, and we're not. At least, I'm not. The people who say that must not have seen how close we were, still are(I hope). I hated hurting Salandri and hated it more when she hurt herself because of me, I'm nothing to hurt yourself over. But now I'm questioning if I ever really loved her, or if what was between us was something that I thought was love, but wasn't afterall. I was her first, and that could have clouded her judgement a bit. I know it did for me, with Trishania. I don't know what I saw in her now.

I do know, though, that it's my heart, not any other part of me, that aches when I don't wake to those dark green eyes and that familiar smile.

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[Aeiara Traselghan]

<Today, the journal has been hidden underneath the matress in the untidy little abode its writer resides in. It would require some snooping to find.>

I know now how Mom felt when she died. And it isn't a nice feeling at all. Earlier I fought a scourge... thing and it infected me somehow. It took a minute for me to feel it, but pretty soon after the first cut was made, I started to feel like my insides were being eaten away by some kind of acid. I couldn't breathe and every time I coughed there was more blood. I know it scared the **** out of Despil - he knocked me out and dragged my ass back to Silvermoon, which the former really wasn't a good idea.

I don't think he knows how blood pools in a punctured lung when one is unconscious and incapable of expelling said blood. He still doesn't really think about things before he does them, he could have made things a lot worse... but then again, I didn't die, so it evens out.

More than Death herself, or pain or what I would face when I passed, I was afraid for him, I found. Him, and whether when I was gone, he'd be able to take care of himself and stay alive and well and happy.

"Pointless though these words may seem, they are -your- pointless, random little words, and you should keep them sacred and safe, for only you can say them with such conviction."
-Vic. During a class once.

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[Aeiara Traselghan]

<Though it has been a while since the journal has been written in, there seems to be a new entry, but what is of more interest is that there seems to be a page torn out just before this entry... and that the torn out page can be found not far from the table that the book lays out and open on, crumpled on the floor.>

I think I killed her. Oh gods. I don't know why she wanted to kill me, and I tried to hold back, but it went beyond simple self defense somehow. Trishania's dying because I went too far. I should have just given her over to one of the other Netherbrights, told them what was going on, but now she's in a ward, not able to speak and barely breathing on her own. It's all my fault, everything. I spoke with Despil and now he's left, but it's been a couple of days when he said he'd be back the morning after he left. I'm positive he left because of something I did, I just don't know what, and now it's all my fault if something awful has happened to him, I'm sure of it. I have a terrible feeling about this and yet I've got to keep smiling to Verondi because if I lose her too because of my own inability to protect what I care about, I'l

<Here, the entry cuts out, this obviously having been where Anduinn stopped writing and tried to get a hold of himself before trying to write the next entry.>

[Aeiara Traselghan]

<As previously stated, the page before this is torn out, and the entry on this page looks like it's written by a shaking hand that someone was trying to force into being steady.>

A couple of days ago, Trishania and I got into a fight of sorts... well, she started it, put a knife to my throat with the intent to kill me, but I resisted and came out on top. We were both the worse for wear, with no true clear victor, but from how things are now, I think I qualify as such.

The day after, I met Salandri in Silvermoon, and she tried to heal me, only to make matters worse. I think it pains her that she was not able to help my situation, only to come back and let me know of the condition Trishania was in. It turns out, I seem to have beaten her to a bloody pulp. I've been healed, though, thanks to Despil, and yet still she lies in a ward, half dead. I should go and visit her, to say something, anything. Maybe in some small way I could help her.

Despil left not too long after performing the healing spells. He said he had some business in the North, and he wouldn't be long - the next morning at most. He still hasn't returned, and it's been days. I can't help but worry that something terrible has happened, because usually when he means the North, he really means Northrend... and the gods only know what manner of foul nightmares reside in those desolate, frozen wastes.
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<End of entry.>

[Aeiara Traselghan]

<Calmer than most days, the writing in this entry is somewhat more neat and steady.>

People say I've matured, and I don't know, maybe I have. I suppose that I have mellowed out a bit, gotten a little less prone to fits of emotional extremes as I once had. Despil and I have had few issues, and for that, I'm thankful. He left the Corps and was depressed for a while, even yelled at Verondi for no real reason out of frustration, but he's since calmed down fairly well. Erelle is still weighing whether or not to let him back into the Regiment - if she'd seen him as I had, then she'd know he wasn't spying for Lakresha. He hates the Admiral now, as well as Vandred and Seraphus. Too many hardships they made him endure, and I'm quite honestly glad to be rid of them. I didn't like the way they treated him most of the time.

Verondi had some girl troubles, so we let Mum see her, and she fixed the girl right up. Then we baked cookies and did things families do. I suppose that we're not quite a family, but we're close like one. I'd protect that girl anywhere she went, and Despil would likely do the same. He doesn't see her as growing up, ever, and that might be a problem, but so far it isn't. Other than that, nothing's really happened lately.

I'm bored.
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