It's amazing how a simple whiff of summer air can wholly rejuvenate a person.

It's been months since my parents' divorce. It was well-publicized, spread
across many news boards, as everyone seemed to think their two sovereigns were
of import. A close Talnara friend of mine told me of the manifold lies about my
mother that people felt necessary to "reveal" in the Seren news. My parents
forged the strong alliance between New Celest and the First Forest that lasted
an entire century, and my parents' divorce was the reason for its dissolution.
I'm skipping from one thought to another... It still hurts, thinking about those
days. I was younger, a small human in a city of giants. Yes, in only a few
months I've grown to think of my then-self as significantly younger, so relevant
were those events to my life (hah, life).

I keep, in my room, many trinkets from that time. Many disliked my parents and,
by extension, their progeny, but equally as many were friends of the family and
it didn't take long for them to notice what kind of effect the divorce was
having on me, so they started mailing me presents. At first, cheesecake to lift
my spirits. In a few weeks, lovely, subtle jewelry, like these treble clef
earrings I'm wearing as I write this. Back then, every day was as eventful as a
month in peaceful times, so I came to associate specific trinkets with specific
days. I keep them in my room nowadays, as I mentioned, stuffed in a tawdry box:
such strong reminders of despair they are. I wear only these earrings because
they arrived via owl on the day my mother committed suicide, the day which
effectively stopped their dispute and... all went quiet again.

Many of my siblings took sides during the divorce. Since my parents had
practically built an empire based on their eternal union, each claimed ownership
of some part of it when they broke apart. Serenwilde and New Celest saw a lot of
fluctuation in population those days, for those supporting mother came to the
city and those on father's side left for the forest. It was all very quiet...
very calm, collected, like two trees trying to outdo each other in rational
majesty until one inevitably buckles and crashes with the loudest of thunks.
Many of my siblings took sides, as I mentioned, and waged private wars on one
another, all of which went by unnoticed by the relevant parties, my parents. It
all culminated when a newborn cousin of mine was kidnapped and dropped into the
Estengare to drown. I still bear scars from that day, when I almost clawed my
face out, yet they're mostly covered by hair.

I used to tell myself that, no matter how tough it gets, I'll always have
shoulders to cry on. Many were on my mother's side, and many more were still
completely neutral and simply benevolent to those in need during such times.
Many were, as well, my friends. I have always had large groups of friends
supporting me and been proud of it, I won't lie (what would be the point in
doing so now?), yet as the Fates weave cruel patterns into our lives from time
to time, so they chose to do here. Marion had a change of heart and left for the
taint. When she told me, I was hit with a painful flashback of the time we spent
together, almost like in storybooks, and then a sudden deadening of all senses.
I never heard from her again. Annabella turned out to be an opportunist and
turned her back on me when I needed her most. She's married into an honourable
family nowadays. A rich one. (I keep a small raven-shaped pendant in memory of
that day in my tawdry box.)

Samuel fell in love. This is a man who'd been searching for true love his
entire life, very stubborn, unwilling to compromise, relentlessly waiting for
"the one." Neither of us thought he'd ever really find him, and yet... For those
couple of days that he could still spare me some of his time, I had practically
gotten to know Suiram myself, so much he talked about him. I was happy for him,
ecstatic even, for such is love: it radiates more love and rains it on those
around its proxy. Almost like a plague, infecting all and spreading
unstoppably... Until they leave to join their better half, and you're left all
alone, left with an unbearable craving for more of that love rain, to the point
where you feel horribly dirty all the time: nothing as divine as love to wash
away the dirt of everyday life.

I miss Samuel so much. I cry at night, inspired by all the bad things that
happened to me, but a good portion of that time I spend thinking about how much
I miss him. I have always been a foolish girl, hoping for the impossible...

So I was left with no comforting shoulders. When you start taking things in
your life for granted, they have a tendency to rebel and leave you altogether. I
prayed many times, trying to find new friends, reaching out to what I hoped
would be higher wisdom. Only Lady Isune heard my prayers and we had a brief
talk, yet on that day I lost all respect for her. Nothing I said seemed to reach
her. She maintained the illusion of understanding, but I saw through it. She
never truly understood my loneliness and despair, and I couldn't shake off the
feeling that all she wanted to do was paint my soul pink and send me off.

I also went through a childish phase when all I wanted was to run away from
home. For one, it would be a relief from the arduousness that everyday life had
become, but I also hoped it would bring my parents back together. I hoped that,
in difficult times, people forget about mutual differences and band together to
conquer the greater evil or overcome the more important hardship. You know. Like
in storybooks. So one day, I did actually run away. Not far, mind. Inexperienced
and pampered though I was, I was knowledgeable enough to understand the dangers
nature could pose. I brought a healthy supply of food and a tent in my backpack,
descended into Oleanvir Valley and spent the day romping around and getting to
know the animals that lived there. For a moment, I saw a stallion that reminded
me of Samuel for some reason: he'd already left to journey the world as a rogue
with Suiram at that point.

As night approached, it was time to set up camp. Thirty minutes and many curse
words unbecoming of me later, I realized that I never actually learned how to
make a tent... work. It was all furrikin and peaches in instruction manuals and
such (and some of my Hunter friends tried explaining it to me on occasions), but
I guess I'm just not tent-savvy. Thirty further minutes later, I was so
frustrated I actually screamed and flopped down onto the ground in exasperation.
My scream echoed throughout the valley, and as I opened my eyes I noticed night
had fallen. The hares and roans were gone, each to their abode, and I felt for a
moment like the master of my domain. Nothing could harm me, so I closed my eyes
and dozed off.

Abruptly awakened by a disagreeable cawing, I felt something stab my shoulders
and pull me off the ground. I only fully awoke many meters above ground, finding
myself in the claws of a gigantic roc. I remember it with a cold shiver down my
spine: the thought of being kidnapped while defenseless, sleeping, is a horrible
one. I fought, naturally, for I wasn't one to freeze in shock and wait out my
destiny. I am a chooser. So I fought. The roc apparently couldn't stand my
squirming for too long, and as we approached the Razines, it suddenly removed
its claws and let me fall down, down, right into the Estengare. At the time, I
didn't think much of it and focused on swimming back to Oleanvir and drying off,
but in hindsight, it was almost poetic (and sickeningly so) that I found rescue
in the river that was my cousin's grave, and would later...

Where was I... Ah. I dried off and covered myself with the tent, still
shivering from the cold water and the roc's hellish caw. The minor bleeding
where its claws gripped me had stopped and my wounds had clotted, but I was so
numb all over I didn't even notice. It was almost dawn, and I decided to return
home around noon. I'd planned to stay on the run for at least a week, but this
was plenty excitement for my small heart.

Later, I marched home, intentionally looking drawn and tired, to find New
Celest as quiet as it usually was around noon. A part of me was surprised that
there were no search parties scouring the streets, frantically looking for me,
but I guess that would have been too much to expect after one day. I noticed
white draperies hung from many of the houses' windows. I'd never noticed those
before and couldn't help but wonder what purpose they served. I'd seen gold,
which denoted festivities; blue, which normally stood for weddings... As I drew
nearer and nearer to the Pool of Stars, I noticed a crowd gathered round. I
slowed my pace, ruffled my hair and donned my tired face in childish hopes of
attracting as much attention as possible. Yet as I came almost steps away from
the crowd, no one turned, nor spoke, nor shuffled.

I gave an innocuous cough to make them turn. Reflected on their faces, I saw
neither joy nor relief that they found me, but grief and pity. They moved aside
as they noticed me, one by one, letting me through to the Pool. Beside it, three
men were holding between them something wrapped in a white sheet, and it didn't
take me long (though I wonder how, since that should have been the last thing to
cross my mind) to realize that it was my mother's corpse. I wasn't even shocked
into disbelief. I screamed and ran right up to it, touching it frantically
without purpose or sense. I kept looking around, searching for friendly eyes to
tell me what happened... but they were all gone.

I was told, later on, that she left a note. I couldn't bear to read it, so it
was read to me. It was a suicide note, very classic, very neat, explaining,
thanking, blaming... In the end, she mentioned that the last drop was me running
away. I gathered that, instead of giving her the will to join with father to
look for me, I killed the very last bit of will she had. I killed my mother. She
threw herself, legs bound with rope and rock, tumbling into the Estengare. Where
it began, there it would end, she said. They found her deep in the Inner Sea
near New Celest, partially ripped apart by sharks, and they immediately covered
her and brought her back, swiftly arranging for a burial ceremony. In New
Celest, the white drapes symbolized death.

It's amazing how a simple whiff of summer air can fully rejuvenate a person, I
said. Summer has come and all who breathe it have forgotten. Whomever you ask
about the tough times, about the past, they all respond, "Tomorrow is a new
day!" They hurt me, and annoy me to no end. What difference does it make if
tomorrow is a new day? New things aren't necessarily good things. I don't want
new toys. I don't want new people in my life. I want the good, tried and tested
old ones.

I received a letter yesterday. When I opened it, even my sad heart seemed to
smile as I recognized Samuel's handwriting. Reading it, I noticed a pattern, and
a chill gripped me again. Explaining, thanking, blaming... Suiram had left him.
There was, in the end, no true love to be found, only... what did that writer my
mother was so fond of call it? "Illusions of care and the spice of love." Only a
spice, nothing substantial. He explained. He wrote that all he needed now was my
voice to comfort him. Just for old times' sake, he added, for he found himself
no longer truly consolable. He thanked. It was written in the stars. He blamed.

The worst thing in life is to be a chooser and not to be able to choose. So I
join my little cousin Emma (I named her so in my head), my mother, my Samuel, my
love, all the people that mattered. Perhaps I'll find a new tapestry to be a
part of. One that really needs me.

Farewell.