Loest was exhausted. His body ached from the overexertion caused by so many days on the run. His father's last request, that his diary be protected at any cost, had certainly taken its toll on the young man. Yet never once had he stopped to draw the book from its protective leather case and read it. He was willing, and already had far too often, to risk his life as steward of words he'd never known.
Without realizing it his hand was already tugging the book from his bag, untying the strings that sealed it from the outside world. He paused for a moment to find a better place to rest, searching for a brush dense enough to obscure himself from the sight of any forces that might be close enough to see him. Satisfied he was hidden well enough, he gave a brief thought to the fact these knots had been tied by the head priest of Arada before his untimely death.
Choking back his feelings of guilt,
Loest opened the book and at last read the words that held the truth of his fate in them. The words that held the secrets he prayed, in his own way, could save Balor. The last words of Wizent.
Firesday the 16th of Meadmaan, 998 L.W.
It's been a long year, and though it is only a little over 2 months from closing altogether, I find myself aging faster now than ever before. Rothem has always been a good man, and a fair king, but sometimes I think there's too much history in his blood. The Last War approaches a thousand years gone, and yet he still believes Layar needs to show the rest of the world its prowess. The parades have always been a little exuberant for my taste, but this new fortress he's planning is just too much.
Few men have ever claimed to climb to the peaks of Mt. Balor, yet the king seeks to build atop it! True, he's not so foolish that he believes the summit would be suitable, but I'd not be shocked to learn that he tries to add a spire to the plans to rise above the sky itself. Were I not so sure the man held the priesthoods in such high regard, I'd swear the fool was trying to end me all on his own. Wasn't Nishaven raised alongside him to be an adviser the man could trust? Bah, too much of the king's pride is in both of them!
Though I can't claim the king works alone to bring my wits to an end. My own son seeks to unravel me, or so it seems most days. I can understand a crisis of faith, but to openly claim he holds no belief in the Seven Gods of Balor at all? That is just beyond me. He cites the darkness in our world as his cause, and many among our temple believe it to be his heritage. Not that we know who the boy's biological parents could be, but my own disciple swears he must hail from Lyth to utter these things. So, of course, she has to be the one teaching the class in which my son decides to blurt his newly found 'beliefs' in. Zhanna's always been a passionate follower of our goddess, and I've always considered that a credit to her character. Apparently, I was mistaken in this regard as it became my great sadness when she decided to bring her confusion to my chambers last night, seeking clarity to impart to my son on my behalf.
I hold little hope that Snomaan or Wolfmaan will hold any better tidings, and so thus I pray to Arada that the final year of the Last War's millennium will bring some much needed cause for relaxation. Perhaps by Seedmaan Rothem and Loest alike will have abandoned their wild notions. I might even live to see the ages turn!
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