Aallan

Yesterday was blessedly peaceful and quiet, free of trouble and tragedy. If only more days could be so. 

*The text is written poorly with many spelling errors. The parchment is stained with a small spray of red dots *

Dear journal

Mother always said that if you have many bad news then try and talk about something nice before.

*The text is written poorly with many spelling errors*

Dear journal

I must have been a child still when I last wrote in you but with all that has happened I have to let my thoughts out somewhere even if I feel a bit sick.

Yesterday was largely pleasant, though a few moments were as ugly and harsh as anything I’ve ever known. Strangely, I don’t feel the same insecurity, the same regret, as I have on previous occasions. Could it be that I’m finally coming into my own identity, as Fate rakes me over the coals more and more? Am I finally finding my own voice? Losing my fear of offending others?

I know this isn't in my best interest to write any of these thoughts out, and I'm very certain it will backfire horrendously, though.. for my own sake and possibly those around me, I guess I will.  

How did I even manage to sleep last night? I must have been exhausted with happiness... is there such a thing? 

I have not stopped smiling since I opened my eyes this morning. The day appears rather dreary and drizzly from where I sit, but I can't find it in myself to mind. I feel as though the sun has found its way into my breast and is filling me with light - warm and golden and gentle. 

Why was I so foolish as to wonder what had been occupying Aallan while I've been ill? 

Several pages of my journal parchment lay crumpled beside me. Full of words, furious, confused, and wounded. 

I am thankful Conrob was not here when I received Aallan's latest letter.

I cannot reply in writing. I don't know if I should reply at all. My body has healed, but now my heart has been torn asunder.