Branston

Taala sat upon her bed thumbing through the pages of Hardoleth’s journal.  She had read her father’s journal many times over, feeling blessed to have it, for it had taught her so much about the man.  He had written his innermost thoughts there; surely the truth would have been recorded in those pages?

He left that morning, his last words still echoing in her head... 

Perhaps it was because he never loved me? But that makes the least sense of all.

There was a long period of time when Neyaa Sunngifu did not shed any tears.

It has been a time of deep sadness for Neyaa, losing the child she was carrying, Deredan's child.  She looked across the room at him as he dressed, having just enjoyed each other for most of the morning.  It was time to begin counting her blessings.

"Put on your new boots Branston, we are going for a walk".  Neyaa smiled at her son as she helped him on with the boots Foxwin had made for him.  They were a perfect fit and Foxwin had insisted they were a gift for Branston's first naming day.

If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

The agonizing pain to which she awoke was all too familiar.  Neyaa struggled to a sitting position, the fear in her eyes evident as she called out to Deredan.  The pain tore through her abdomen, instinctively she placed her hands where it hurt most and attempted to adjust her breathing to calm the torment, awaiting the inevitable.

Today I must write about Ardeghon.  What can I tell you of Ardeghon Dalgren, the Warrior Poet?  My little Micelscop!  Well, he has at last returned from his journey to Aldburg in the Folde that he had made with Hyrien whom he affectionately refers to as 'Lady

One day when your mother gives you this journal to read, and you see what she and others have written for you, I hope I will be beside her, though battle may take me before then. Whether I live or not, I would have you know that you are my true son and heir, whether any others have been born of my blood after this time. I love your mother with all of my soul, and I have known you as a part of her since you were a tiny babe in swaddling, too small even to crawl.

"When I felt all of the strength leave me, and I fell to my knees on hearing the news, I wanted to cry but instead everything inside of me screamed for just one more day, one more hour, one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more moment and one more chance..."

Your Father came to see you today and he held you for the first time.  I am sure he is as proud of you as I am and will grow to love you as I do.  He did not leave you son, he left me, nay, we have left each other, when you are older I will explain to you why it was for the best.  Your Father said he will acknowledge you as his bastard. 

I am sorry that it has taken me some time to fulfill my promise and write about the night you entered this world, but recent events have kept me too busy to write.