The first round of gifts

Tomorrow the exchange student that we've had for five months goes home. His cousin comes soon, but still...
Because he's missing Christmas, we had a smaller version tonight. My sister got in her Christmas dress (which she always does for Christmas morning), we did pictures on the steps, and we ate cookies. It was fairly typical, minus the lack of presents from Santa, and the fact that our family-of-four didn't give gifts to each other or open stockings.
When people say that Christmas isn't about the gifts, they're lying. Christmas is ALL about the gifts. It's about the biggest gift in the world- and, of course, giving presents to others.
Receiving them is just a side effect, and while that might be a very pleasant side effect indeed,  the real gift is the giving.
What do you do when you open a pleasant present? :-) Do you freak out and scream with happiness (like Caroline when she got her nook) or do you jump up and hug the person who gave it to you? Or do you cry? (I posted some videos of various reactions down below)

It's pretty cool- watch what happens this Christmas when your family and friends open their presents!

Kids opening Christmas presents

A grandfather receiving a puppy

Becoming: Proverbs 31 Girl (reblogged)

This is another post that I really liked. I've realized lately that I've not lived up to this, and I'm trying to change. Really- but it's a bit difficult. Here it is!

Becoming Proverbs 31 girl

(btw, it's from Daughter by Design, by Anna Bachinsky)

The Elessar Firebird

The Elessar Firebird

----Scientific Classification---- Kingdom: Animalia Phylum: Chordata Class: Aves Order: Charadriiformes Family: Lari-Alcidae Genus: Phalacrocorax Species: P. Incendium

The Elessar Firebird (P. Incendium) is a magnificent bird. Named for the famed Gondorian king Aragorn, the appearances of the female and male are largely different.

The female (originally called P. Etiamstella) is larger than the male, with wings made just right for swimming and flying alike. With webbed feet, any fish that escaped her scoop beak is lucky. Her coloring is fairly bland, though her fire-colored feet and bluish beak have earned her nicknames such as ‘Fire-foot’ and ‘Blue-bill’.

After fishing, she returns to the aerie where her mate is waiting. If there is a chick (they only can have one egg at once, making the species highly endangered), she will return four times a day; otherwise she will return only once. If she fails to do so at precisely the right time, her mate and chick will die.

The male (originally and yet still P. Incendium) was at first mistaken for the phoenix, when it still lived in the cliff aeries in Greece. Stories arose from this very bird, telling of how it was reborn in ashes, lived forever, and could heal any poison. While sadly this creature could not do any of this, he does protect his nest fiercely, and scares away predators with his blinding plumage.

He has clawed feet to climb and grip rocks, and a sharp beak and talons to stab and rip any invaders apart. He doesn’t fly; his wings are used only to frighten predators, or to impress a potential mate. They are elliptical-shaped, though with no purpose. There are two eyes in the far upper corners to scare, as well.

However, if this description conjures up an image of a hostile, beautiful yet terrible bird, do not be fooled. The male is an excellent judge of character, and if the creature does not attack immediately, he will entertain the other creature with regurgitated fish. It may be poisonous, or it may not be- all according to his appraisal. If you find yourself in this situation, you have no choice- if you do not eat it, you will be torn apart, regardless of your intentions. The Elessar Firebird is an easily insulted bird, and will not hesitate to kill at the slightest slip-of-the-tongue.  

The Elessar Firebird once lived far across the globe, but now lives only in the Pacific cliffs of Oregon, Washington, Alaska, and Canada. The eggs were once in high demand, but because of this, the population has dwindled and now is under such protection that no one has seen it much less heard of it (except for in the legends).  The female shall forever be known as ‘that crazy seagull over there’, and never known for who she is. Of course you’ll hear stories ever so often of the blazing bird in the cliffs… but that is for another story altogether.

Help me please...

I never meant this to be a blog in which I send off prayer requests for all you lovely readers to pray. I hope that that's not what it appears to the general looker. But lo and behold,  I just happen to start writing about life in the most stressful period of time I have ever experienced.
I won't kid you- it's insane. I have so much to do in the next two weeks that I don't know how I'm going to get it all done. Finals, book reports, science essays, writing contests, and Future City- you can see how I'm freaking out a bit.
I'm really worried that I'll get sick. That's what happened last January with Sagecliff, remember? I have a major issue with staying on task, and that is the cause of much of my despair. (sorry if I sound overly eloquent, I am writing a science report as well and it's hard switching between code-language uses. Science teacher and friends, that is. I'll post it later, probably- I like the bird a lot!) Taking breaks often AWAY from the computer works, but a one-tab-only limit for me would be amazing.

Please share your prayer requests with me- I get really lonely with only Anonymous posting, and I want to be able to pray for all you.
Thanks for letting me complain! (It really does help, y'know)
Katie


An awesome quote I found on this topic: “Since God intends to make you like Jesus, he will take you through the same experiences Jesus went through. That includes loneliness, temptation, stress, criticism, rejection, and many other problems.”  ~ Rick Warren

           

Christmas

A few days ago we decorated our two Christmas trees. They're both pretty short (6' or so) because of the cold weather and late timing, but with some of our ornaments, they were perfect.

I love this time of year. Of course we have Christmas, with the cookies and presents, and family, but we also have snow, and the time inside with friends and relatives. Seriously, who isn't fond of the idea of sitting by a crackling fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate, and chatting with Cousin Sally and Friend Bob? It'd be hard not to be.
This time of year is not only special for those reasons, but also for the coming of Jesus Christ. In this post, I want to focus on Mary and Joseph, though.

(some pictures of our living room)

My most beautifully (in my eyes) wrapped present. It's for our exchange student, if you were wondering.

Tolkien's Letters from Father Christmas

If you went back in time to that first Christmas night, chances are, it'd look nothing like the foam Nativity scenes you made in kindergarten. Jesus was probably born in one of the caves used for sheltering the animals, and Mary was likely not a woman in blue robes kneeling next to a sleeping baby swaddled in pure white in a nice wood box. 

Lets start from the top- Mary. (You can do your stable research later, and if you find something different, please comment- I want to hear!) During Bible times, girls usually married at the age of 13-14. If she was betrothed to Joseph, she would likely be at the beginning of the spectrum: meaning, late twelve or thirteen. Using today's reckoning (of most people), she would not have been a woman. 

Second, stables would not have been pristine places. The straw in the manger would have been wet and half-chewed, and might have even been moldy- the opposite of soft sweet hay. It wouldn't have been cleaned often- perhaps even never- and the smell would reflect that. The swaddling cloth was at best a little ragged and dirty. It probably smelled, too.

When you hear people say that Jesus didn't come into the world as a king, believe it. As much as you might want to roll your eyes at an overstated statement, he certainly didn't. Mary- hardly more than a scared child- had to give birth to the Savior of the World in a dirty, smelly cave, in an unfamiliar town, with no one but an equally frightened, unexperianced carpenter to help. But through this, the one who was worthy (and could easily have been)  to be born in luxury was born in conditions worse than the poorest peasant.

Even if he hadn't been the Son of God, it's no wonder he was humble...

a work in progress: The Trouble With If-Onlys

This post is from the blog of a very good friend of mine. I have a lot of other friends going through extremely difficult times, and have wanted to do something like this, but how are you supposed to put it, while staying sensitive? Sarah was able to find the words I couldn't, and while I haven't shared any other posts with y'all, I think this one is an excellent one to start with.


a work in progress: The Trouble With If-Onlys: This past weekend I was in Atlanta attending my cousin’s wedding. I live in Chicagoland, but my entire extended family on both sides lives ...

Hazil reprise

By POV of her oldest sister


I don't believe my sister. She couldn't have run off! Hazil is smart enough to know that 'No' means no!
But what if... no, I refuse to believe it! It could not be!
I know that my mother and sisters have been hard on her. I know enough about my littlest sister to know that she hates us. But she couldn't have run away for that sole reason!
I just don't want to believe the likeliest of possibilities: What if she had a dream? Those are rare in Anabru, and always mean something. If she had a dream about Father, and followed him into the Northern Wastes, she'll die! Only the heir of the Travellers can survive the cold and poison. Could it really be?

Profoundness

I'm using a Anna-and-Rachel word here: profound.
I don't read the Bible every day, as much as want to. Using a kindle makes it difficult to open to a random page and read. I found a paper one today, and have been reading Psalms 106.

At first it didn't make sense to me- a record of what all happened in the Old Testament, meaning a bunch of good, losing sight, getting kidnapped and punished, repenting, whatnot. then I flipped back one, and a verse blared out at me:

Praise the LordGive thanks to the Lord for he is good; his love endures forever.

That slightly confused me. The rest of it was a ton of verses like "So he gave them what they asked for, but sent a wasting disease", and "The earth opened up and swallowed Dathan…". It doesn't paint a picture of the kind ad loving God I know. It reminds me of a C.S. Lewis line: "'Of course he isn't safe.'" Then, however, it next says this: "'But he's good.'" Verses 44-45 say this:

44But he took note of their distress when he heard their cry; 45For their sake he remembered his covenant and out of his great love he relented. 

 God seems to me like a parent. What child sits in time out and believes their mom or dad when they say that they punish them for the child's good? In this case, the writer realizes how God really is doing it for the good of Israel… and out of his great love, spares them the oppression that they all too easily could have faced. It's like, whoa.
 I remember a verse in Proverbs: The one who loves  discipline loves knowledge, but whoever hates correction is stupid. 

Through punishment, we learn what not to do. While we might not like it, we learn what we have to remember, and how we have to live.
I know that there are readers that aren't Christian, but please still read this blog! These are life lessons, I suppose...
Anyway, this one has been long too... Oh, well. Can't really be helped now.


And an update: I'm nearly finished with the outline, so I should be able to turn it in soon! :D 

Sooo...

I've been busy. Like, so busy it isn't even funny. 

With Nanowrimo (and the looming Scholastic Art and Writing Awards deadline), school, Thanksgiving, and Future City, my life is insane. I'm not even all that sure what to do for my next story. I've been thinking about doing something medieval, or Anglo-Saxon, but I don't know. 

It's kind of crazy to realize the fact that Christmas is so close. Our  house is slowly becoming festive: the lights are up, garlands are around the banister, stockings are hung (by the chimney with care (sorry, couldn't help that)), etc. We haven't yet got a tree, but that'll be coming soon, no doubt!

And on top of that, my sister's birthday is coming up. The fact that she's going to be twelve is a little overwhelming.... she'll always be nine to me. 

Also, my Algebra teacher has announced that, even though it's a year early, we'll have to take a part of a high school final. I now get to study, pray freak out thinking that I might not be ready, and hope as hard as I can that I do well enough to get into AP prep Geometry next year. Please pray for me; I have a feeling that losing sleep worrying about this will be extremely counterproductive. Honestly, eighth-graders taking finals has to be unnatural! (if there is anyone who disagrees with this statement/exclaimation, please comment. I have no idea if there is anyone besides Karis reading this semi-regularly, so if you agree, commentt too.)

Future CIty is taking off, and I'm paralyzed that I'll do something to botch it and crush the hopes of the ten-or-so seventh graders counting on me. I don't know how I came into leading this, but I am and I'm terrified that I'm going to fail. Last year has been my consistent nightmare, and while everyone says otherwise, it was a failed attempt. Thank you God for letting us submit the virtual city!!!!!!! The deadline had been November 25, but now something happened and it's December 4 instead. My friend Zona and I now have to worry about the essays, but ithat isn't a really massive concern like the  SimCity was. I have also found that I love SimCity 5... Issue? Even if I were to buy it, it's incompatible with any of our three old computers. >:-(

Finally, I have the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards competition. I'm entering Juliet (remember?) and Mother Regina, and while I have Juliet ready for submission, Mother Regina is not. I have to finish a crazy-long outline before December 5 at least, get my ELA teacher to sign the form, and send them both in to arrive before the seventeenth.  I suppose all this has just been pushed back farther and farther, and now I find myself racing to finish.

It's life, right? All of this is so little compared to other people's struggles, and some might not have Jesus. I read this book about radical Christianity lately- The Irresistible Revolution- and I suppose you could say that my life has been radically changed. God is bigger in my life now, and I can see the difference. Literally. It's as though I had never really known Him.

I've realized that, just being baptised as a baby, or asking Jesus into your heart as a three-year old doesn't necessarily make a person Christian. I guess it's the whole age-of-understanding thing. I used to think that it was, like, 5 or 6, but at that age one is still dependent on their parents. Then, they might be influenced by their parents, but eventually they will have to decide- for themselves. 

At some point, one has to realize that they are the ones in charge of their life, and no one can completely control it. The choice is, will it be for better or worse? It's kinda... whoa. I won't kid you, I am shivering, and it isn't even cold. That is, inside it isn't.

That post was waay longer than I expected. I had no idea what to write about, so I wrote excuses about why I didn't write.  You see where that went. 

Anyway, I suppose I'll write later!

Katie

Tempest 11 (Ferdinand)

I am at sea again. This time, instead of being alone in the company of men, I stand at the prow with the woman I love- my wife- in my arms. Instead of cataloging weapons and preparing for battle, I am spending my time telling Miranda about her new home.
Life is good.

Mother Regina excerpt 2 (1472)

I apologize for not being able to write at all. Some of you might notice my little Nanowrimo widget, but that really is consuming my life.  Here's one of my favorite parts!

I knew that the chances of her being a spy in a time of peace were unlikely, but I couldn't bring myself to trust her fully. As my pregnancy reached its final stages, and I grew ever more irritable, I am ashamed to say my treatment of both Neville girls worsened. I took the liberty of keeping the two apart, and I grew paranoid. I had a large suspicion everyone was glad when I went into confinement.

It was in the first week that, when my ladies were sewing with me. We were having a general conversation about our husbands and how terrible they were, when my talkative sister Katharine mentioned George.

“He’s best friends with my husband. They go out drinking and doing who knows what all the time. How can someone expect us to be pretty, docile wives when we know full well what atrocities our husbands are wrapped up in? All I can ken is that you and I, Isabel, are stuck with men that don’t know what’s good for themselves- and us.

Slap! A red mark brightens on Katharine’s face. Isabel stares at her palm in shock.

“How dare you-” Katharine whispers

“You were insulting George! How could you say such horrid things?”

Their voices rise until both are shouting. I cannot bear it- as much as I love one and hate the other, both of them are doing damage to my ears, and I cannot distinguish between them both. “Stop it! Stop!” I cannot be heard. My vision blurs, and I collapse against the pillows, too weak to do anything as horrific pain rips through my being. It’s too early, I think. I am thirty five. I cannot survive much more of this.

Sample of upcoming novel!

March 1461

The letter was unfairly beautiful. It was cream-colored, with a seal of crimson wax, and my name- Lady Elizabeth Grey of Groby- scratched on the front in ink. For a moment, I was taken with it entirely, turning it over and caressing the folds. It had completely escaped me that I did not normally receive letters unless they carried dire news. I was a wife, and a mother of two little boys, at that time. John was my husband: John Grey of Groby. Thomas was six, and Richard was three- both as boisterous and mischievous as little boys could be expected to be. They depended on their father for the majority of these little adventures, and when he had left for battle they (as well as I, of course) suffered greatly.
I had felt differently at the muster. It all was as normal: horses swishing flies with their tail, men kissing their families goodbye, and women clinging to red roses- the symbol of Lancaster, our house- so hard that some had blood running from their hands from the thorns they were too lazy to remove. And still I sobbed throughout the whole. It was odd for me to be so emotional, for at my age I knew that causalities were the “fortunes of war”, as we called them. I knew that I was not with child- my courses had come and ended two days before. I had no idea why, and thus ignored it.
Since then, Thomas and Richard had got into less trouble. We had a consistent supply of bread, and the cook never found any sweets missing. I slept later with no one to demand I see what trouble there was in the nursery. My boys never spoke out at dinner, and their behavior was excellent. I knew they missed their father as much as I.
At last I managed to break the seal, and unfold the letter. I knew what was coming, but I couldn't stop myself from crying out and dropping the letter when I read it. John was dead. He had died in the second battle of St. Albany, leading the cavalry charge.
“Mama? What’s wrong?” Thomas and Richard were running towards me. I smiled through my tears, and gathered them into my lap. Thomas- being the ‘man of the house’ in his father’s absence squirmed out, but Richard remained.
“Mama?”
I hugged him even tighter, tears staining his linen shirt. Thomas picked up the letter, and read it slowly-haltingly- aloud.
“My dea-dearest daughter. I wish that I wer-were not the one to have to tell you this.” He finished it, and looked at me. “Father is dead?”
I nodded, unable to say a word. Richard burst into tears, and buried his face in my dress. I placed my arm around him and his brother: we were a fatherless, husband-less family now.

April 1464

I arose early that morning. King Edward, our sworn enemy, was passing through a road near my family’s home at Grafton. I woke the boys- now six and nine- and dressed them quickly. We had to flag him down; my lands granted to me at my husband’s death had been taken from me. If the new king wouldn’t give them back, my children would have no inheritance. I was desperate now- without John’s lands, we were as good as peasants.

We left Grafton Manor while the sun was at the horizon, and hurried across the field. There was an oak tree near the road, we could wait there for the king. We sat in the shade as the sun rose, and ate the bread and cheese I had packed the night before. After nearly an hour and a half, Richard sat bolt upright. “What’s that noise, Mama?”
I listened hard. Sure enough, hoofbeats sounded in the distance. I stood up, and gathered Thomas and Richard to myself. A minute later, men on horses, in armor, were visible around the corner. There was only one man I saw, though, and it was the one with a crown on his helmet.
I felt myself running into the hard-packed dirt road, though my mind screamed against it.
“Stop!” Thomas shouted. “Don’t run over Mama!” He blushed and stepped back, embarrassed to have given orders to the king of England. The obliged, and I remained un-trampled.
“Your Grace,” I knelt. The king slid off his horse, and removed his helmet. He nodded at me to rise, and I did. He walked around me, inspecting me as if I were a statue to admire. I felt his eyes on me, and I stiffened. I was aware that many men found me beautiful, and this king was not known for his chastity.
“Who is this?” His voice was tinged with amusement, and every instinct I had screamed to run.

“I am Lady Elizabeth Grey, the widow of Sir John Grey of Groby, and mother to Thomas and Richard.” I hoped that in reminding him of the presence of my sons, I would be safer. I would never have done this if I was not desperate.

The Blood of Olympus Book review

I had my dates switched, and for some reason thought today was the sixth. Well, this morning I dared to hope, and sue enough, it was the seventh! Of course then I bought it on my kindle, ran into several people at school (because I was reading) in the hallways, and whenever I did come up for air told everyone in a six-foot radius that yes, indeed it was out, and I had bought it at seven in the morning. Then I went back to reading.
This is the kind of work every aspiring/self-published fantasy writer wants. Including me. You can't help but admire the voice, and the plot. Reyna and Nico's POVs were amazing, and you learned about family history as well. Old wounds were reopened, and healed. I feel like I understand so much more about formerly flattish characters.
This book deserves a hundred ten stars and more- but unfortunately my Kindle isn't capable of that.

Tempest 10 (Miranda)

I still cannot believe it. Father, against all expectations, is allowing Ferdinand and I to marry. We shall have a grand wedding feast tomorrow night, and the next day, we shall leave the island. I cannot wait to see the outside world, that what I have not seen for years. He tells me that it is so different from here, and I may not like it. I wouldn't mind a dungeon so long as I had Ferdinand!

Tempest 9 (Ferdinand)

Prospero invited me to dine with him and Miranda tonight. I have no idea why, but I suppose it may have to do with our (Miranda and my) relationship. I will figure out in a few minutes.

Tempest 8 (Miranda)

It pained me to watch Ferdinand work. But inside, I was soaring with delight- for me he was doing this. For me. I was just the girl he had met when his ship had sunk, the girl who had sustained his family. He was doing backbreaking work for my hand, and even through my protests held fast. 

It seamed we had know each other forever, while in reality, only a few short days ago, I knew no true man but my father  (and that deformed cripple whom  never remember his name).

At last I convinced him to take a break, no matter how short. We sat on my log together, and he touched my lips with his own. When he held me close, I knew that, whether or not Father allowed us to be together, nothing could stop us from loving each other. 

I am sorry

For weeks

I have been 

unable to write.

I have been bound

by school

Other works

Other duties.

I am not yet ready

to say 

Goodbye

for there will be days

I have time

and

Time again

to finish what

I started.

I know

I must write

A full year

at least

And

I shall.

I shall finish

Tempest

I shall

start

And finish another

In verse

Perhaps

But who

Knows for

sure

but God?

I will

Not

be the author who

disappears without

Notice

and leaves 

Words unsaid.

No,

I shall

Return.

Tempest 7 (Ferdinand)

Miranda's father, Prospero, found out about me today. He has set me to work for him, and I work harder than ever.
Miranda sits on a stone near me, and watches me silently. I cut, and lift logs for firewood.
Although strenuous, my work never pained me. At times, I slipped, and Miranda would cry out, but in those times I was reminded our love- and through this work, I would earn her hand.

In lieu of Tempest...

I found this cool project while browsing Kickstarter today. For those unfamilier with the website, you can use it to fund a project. Others can find it, and give money to it to help you out, in exchange for rewards.

Here it is:







This guy is researching all sorts of real fairy tales, ones people actually believed. Even for giving a dollar, you can get a high-five!
He might give you a print of a watercolor he's done, or a book on fairy tales, or anything of that sort. He's trying to raise $3,000, and has only raised, like, $500. He's got 25 days left.
I thought this project was pretty cool- comment, and tell me what you think of it!

Tempest 5 (Miranda)

The next few days were a blur to me. Father didn't know about Ferdinand, yet, but I would tell him later. I had been taking supplies from our store, and giving them to him. He had people he had to care for, too.
I couldn't make myself tell Father that I had been helping Antonio, indirectly. I hadn't seen him, yet I knew someone would eventually find out. I tried not to dwell on that, and make myself keep going. If Father found out about this, which he would, he would be terribly angry, and I couldn't bear the thought of being disinherited.
Ferdinand was the only way that I could keep going. We were hopelessly in love, and through that came our weakness.
When Father found out, he might order us to stay apart.

Tempest 4 (Ferdinand)

I raced back to the wreck, where (to my relief) they were stirring. "Father? Uncle?" I called. Alonso (my father) groaned, and turned over.
"Ferdinand?" His voice could barely be heard. "Ferdinand? Where are we?"
My father was never this weak- he was the king of Naples!
"I- Father, we are on an island. I saw a girl, and spoke to her."
"Good. Check on your uncle now." He closed his eyes.

Tempest 3 (Miranda)

I watched it- him-go. He bore slight resemblance to my father, the only non-deformed man I knew.
I wondered what he needed to do, but he likely forgot about his friends. Ariel, the fairy my father has, was playing his pipes, and it's hard to resist when a fairy does that.
From my limited knowledge of the world outside our island, I could tell we were in love. The way he stared at me, the way I thought about him- it was simple. I really hoped that he would come back.

Tempest 2 (Ferdinand)

I opened my eyes carefully. It appears that we have wrecked on an island of rock, but for some reason I hear music. Doing the thing that seemed sensible for a shipwreck survivor like me, I followed it.
 Before long, I saw what appeared to be a lump of cloth on the ground. It moved, and I realized it was a girl about my own age. She turned her face towards me, and stared.
"Why, look at it! It moves, and carries striking form. What is it?"
It was rather obvious that she hadn't seen a lot of men before. Only then did I realize how beautiful she was. She had eyes bluer then the ocean, and hair like obsidian. Her ruby lips stood out from porcelain skin. I was spellbound.
Then she gasped. "You must be from the ship I saw yesterday- are you?"
"Um," I cleared my throat. "Yes, miss, I am."
"Tell me- besides you, are there any survivors?"
It was my turn to gasp- I hadn't checked. I raced back to the rocks where I had woken up.

Tempest 1 (Miranda)

"Father, stop it!"
I  tugged at my father, Prospero's, arm, trying to get him to turn away. He stared at the mass of black cloud that hovered over a tiny ship. It plunged and twisted in the waves, and I knew that the men on board would die if he didn't stop.
The reason for this was simple- my uncle Antonio had banished Prospero and I to this island while he (Antonio) took over Father's dukedom, Milan. Antonio was on that ship, along with Alonso, the king of Naples, Alonso's brother Sebastian, and his (Alonso's) son, Ferdinand. Prospero held a grudge, of course, and now wished death upon him.
"Please, Father." I couldn't bear it if they all died, Antonio notwithstanding.
He kept his eyes to the storm, and didn't answer.

Tempest

I'm going to try to try (emphasis on try) to do Shakespeare's Tempest like my Romeo and Juliet. This is kinda 'Shakespeare month' for me, just to let you know!
Hey, it's fun! If anyone has any ideas on what to do after this one, please tell me.
Thanks!

Juliet 10 (epilogue)

Romeo and Juliet's parents found their children dead in the graveyard- Juliet with a stab wound.
The parents realized all that had occurred, and the feud was resolved.
A gold statue of Romeo and Juliet was erected by the Montagues and the Capulets, in honor of them.

Juliet 9

No. I cannot believe it. I woke up from my sleep, and saw Romeo next to me- dead. An empty chalice lay next to him; he poisoned himself. I have kissed him, but as I have not died yet, I shall stab myself with his knife. Life without my husband is not life at all, and I'd rather die than be without him as the wife of Paris.
My guess is that Romeo did not get the message, and thought I was dead. He killed himself for me.

I will leave this book in my hand, for our families to learn of us. They should know why their daughter and son died.
We loved. We married. We died together.
This is our story.
Goodbye, my friends and family (Montagues included.)
Juliet Capulet-Montague

Juliet 8

Well, this is it- when I next write, I should be living in a villa near Florence with Romeo. I am taking the potion now, stowing this diary in a hidden pocket in the folds of my dress.
Will write later!

Juliet 7

Friar Lawrence- the man who married us- has an idea. I will drink a potion that will make me appear dead, and my family will bury me. Then Romeo (Who has gotten the news from a friend) will come, rescue me, and we will flee to live happily ever after.
The friar will be here soon- I only hope it works.

Goodreads

Please, someone, review Sagecliff!

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22851139-sagecliff

Juliet 6

My life is over.
Bette came in to my room this morning, and flung herself onto the floor, sobbing. When I asked her what the matter was, she told me that-

Well, I was betrothed when I married Romeo to another man, Paris. Because I am only thirteen, Father told Paris's family to wait a few years. Now, it has been decided that I will wed in three days- again. I cannot marry Paris- my husband is Romeo. The marriage is binding, and could never be annulled. The Pope himself couldn't argue about it, except for perhaps the part about being betrothed to another man, and our parents not approving (or knowing).
What can I do to escape the clamps around me?
Juliet

Juliet 5

I have chosen Romeo. My family can no longer matter in my life.

Juliet 4

I cannot believe it. Romeo- my Romeo- has killed Tybalt, my cousin. I am now torn between my family and my love.
The story it this: Romeo refused to fight Tybalt, but his friend Mercutio decided to. Romeo leaped in between them to stop them, but Tybalt stabbed Mercutio, and he died. Of course Romeo had to kill Tybalt, in revenge.
Who should I follow? I no longer trust my family's judgement, after I have met a Montague, but how can I trust my cousin's murderer?
I no longer know who I love.

Juliet 3

The man I kissed last night- he is Romeo, the son of Lord Montague. I cannot believe it, yet, I still love him. How could I not? He is a wonderful person, the opposite of what I heard in the stories. Today he has gotten his friend Friar Lawrence to marry us, and I await him now. Bette knows, and will help us.
Will write more later, she has come in looking rather distraught!
Juliet

Sagecliff is going to be an ebook!

Okay, peoples, this is important. In about a week, Sagecliff is going to be taken down. It's a depressing thought, I know- but pretty soon, it's going to be an ebook! I'll give you guys the information when it gets here, but in the meantime, take a walk down memory lane.

Juliet 2

You can see why I fear them. Heaven forbid they come to this party! I am coming out today- thus the hair, and the showing-off.
Anyway, Bette now insists I put my book away so I can get dressed. I cannot wait!
Juliet

The party was splendid. I would not be able to write this late normally, but I am now a woman, and I can make my own choices.
I met a man there. We've pledged our love for one another. He is not my betrothed (although I saw him there too), but it didn't matter- I'm head-over-heels, I'll admit.
The strangest thing- I still don't know his real name. It doesn't matter to me, though- I can love a nameless man just as easily as one named.

Juliet

Juliet 1

Hello there- I severely apologize for my terrible handwriting, but Bette is pulling my hair so violently I can barely write. Music can barely be heard from downstairs, and I cannot wait to join them. I've never been to a real one before. Mama says that I must preform something, whether it be a dance or a song. She wishes to show me off, in hopes that I would gain a good husband. I am thirteen after all, and at the age to marry.
Papa, on the other hand, was a bit more preoccupied about security, when I asked him. Our knights have a bad habit of falling asleep at the perfect time for some Montagues to  come in and wreck havoc. He's tried everything, but this time he had the apothecary make a potion to give energy. Papa is confident that it will work.
I, for one, am not. Our knights are so utterly daft that they would think a Montague was a Capulet if that's what they told them. And if they didn't think so at first- well, from what I've heard, the Montagues would be more then delighted to show off their pristine (or not so) fencing skills one-sided.
I never have learned why the Montagues are so feared. From all the stories Bette used to tell me, I could assume that they are greedy, and attack us for our wealth. I could assume that they are savage, hardly human creatures. Some of the more outlandish stories even portray them as werewolves, or even sorcerers who have bargained with the devil (for weeks after I heard that one, my hand was aching from crossing myself so much)! Now that I am older, I know that the werewolf one couldn't be possible, as our parties are always on the full moon, but for the sorcery...
We have had wizards and witches on trial here before, and I know they exist. I have never been near the courtroom during them, but all those who witnessed the trial always are shivering afterwards, no matter the temperature. One has even attempted to work magic at the trial, and the judge fell severely ill, and now is mad.

The new name

Some of you know that I am a total Middle-Ages nerd, and therefore fulfill my nerdness by doing crazy medieval things like make a half-inch diameter ball of cheese. Right?
So it only makes sense that, when bored, I would change the name of my blog to "Lady Kathryn's Boke", right?
I'm likely going to have to change the URL too...
And everybody, this is your cue to sigh and say, "Katie, this is becoming an obsession." My response: "Yup!" 

Writer in the West July

I forgot to mention: My July story will just be me blogging on the other site. I feel like being away for 3 out of 4 weeks and writing two posts a day might end up like Sagecliff (aka, exhaustion and lack of sleep = pneumonia). Not that Sagecliff was fun, just a little... stressful.
Anyway, I promise I'll do pictures (of my adorable baby cousins, perhaps) of breathtaking nature and scenery, and I'll have a running list of how many different terrains, and stories, and funny stories, and maybe I'll get the chance for a few short stories: who knows?
Before you all turn away in bitter horror at what I've just said- no story for July- there will be one for August! I already have a massively awesome idea, hint below. It is inspired from our ISYM repertoire...

What we played at ISYM:
Bizet's Carmen Suite No. 1
Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet Suite
Saint Saens's March Militaire Francaise



I'm sad, too!!!

Alíenor 60

60
We told her of our discovery, and she followed every word- writing it down on a scrap of parchment. As expected, it was unlikely that they would be able to help, but she would file it, and do the best she could.
Now, if only the best was better.
We had done what we had set out to do, and my story was over. The elves- the wisest of the peoples of the Three Isles- knew of the dilemma, and they would try to help. There was no more use for Aneira and me, and no way we could go back to Lashar. Perhaps we could make ourselves of use to the Nameless One, now that we knew his secret, or move to some small town somewhere. Whatever we decided to do, it was the end of one (rather short) chapter: but the beginning of another.

Alíenor 59

59
"Alíenor. Aneira. Welcome back. You wished to talk about some discoveries you had made in Llyn Idwal- correct?"
We murmured our agreement.
"Before we delve too deep into this, know that there is little we would be able to do. The Elves of Ice hold a strong hand over us, and even if proven correct, my people are peaceful."
I bit my lip. This could be a problem.

Alíenor 58

58
At some point late at night, a messenger arrived. She (yes- a female. This would be scandalous in Lashar!) announced that the queen would see us then and only then. We hastily dressed and walked briskly to the hall.
Elvadriandel sat at the front, brooding. The room was empty now, without even a guard.

Alíenor 57

57
I woke up at dusk. I hadn't meant to sleep this long; it was a miracle Elvadriandel hadn't summoned us already.
Aneira sat at the wall loom, working it expertly. The rhythmic thumps emanated from  it as the cloth grew taller and taller. She hadn't noticed me yet, and I allowed myself the luxury of becoming hypnotized for a few seconds. The loom, like everything else in the city, was a functional sculpture, with curved edges and delicate intersections. I envied Aneira for being the first to use it.

Alíenor 56

56
He led us down the stairs, and into the city. My eyes grew accustomed to the camouflage faster than I thought they would, and I could actually ignore the grumblings of our guide.
We came to a stop in front of a mossy grey-rock cottage not unlike the others. The elf muttered something barely comprehensible- about how everything was stocked and we would stay here- and stomped off. Aneira couldn't stop staring at the small building, and (once we'd stepped in) the furnishings. I couldn't blame her- before I had become a lady, I would have been amazed at our accommodations. Never mind the fact that the High Elves had more luxurious quarters: I would have taken this over that any day.
It was a run-of-the-mill cottage, except for the fact that everything was a work of art. I couldn't help wondering if all elf things were like this, and, as I fell asleep, I became increasingly excited for our time here.

Alíenor 55

55
I hesitated. Had I been too straightforward? Had the queen heard all? Would she even grant us our request?
The various petty worries were rising up in my mind, and causing my panic to rise. But it turns out, I had no reason to fear.
"Very well," she murmured. "I have met many untrustworthy people, and many of the opposite- you are of the latter. Laríen will attend to your needs-" A haughty-looking elf stood abruptly, and opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "-as I am sure you are tired and hungry. I shall summon you when possible."

Writer in the West

I'm going to be going on a road trip out to Oregon with my family this summer, and stopping as several national monuments/parks. I want to document this, as I did with my Hong Kong trip two years ago, and will do so with another blog. The trip will start sometime in July, but I'm starting it now.
writerinthewest.blogspot.com

Alíenor 54

54
She stood. "Welcome, foreigners. It is my pleasure to see those from so far in our halls once more."
I flushed, nervous for once- I may have rehearsed what I was going to say, but would I be able to execute it now?
"My-my queen." I stuttered, stumbling over a usually-flawless curtsy. "We have not traveled all the way from Llyn Idwal for nothing. Grant us a private meeting with the High Elves and, of course, yourself, so that we may talk over some, ah, rather startling developments in the matter of current events. We feel that this certainly concerns the elves, as well as the people of Iona, Lashar, and very possibly, Anabru."

Alíenor 53

53
It was farther than I thought. The small building at the top of the supposedly seven-meter tree became a typical Great Hall perched on a thirty-meter tree. I was breathing heavily by the time I reached the top, only to have my breath taken away.
The structure was wood, with the furnishings grown out of the same tree. The trunk broke through in two areas: the area from which the staircase was grown out of, and the throne, on which Elvadriandel sat.
She was radiant, wearing a gown of green-and brown silk. Her chestnut hair was loose but for a braided crown on which a silver diadem sat.

Alíenor 52

52
Once we stepped into the city, I was instantly amazed. It was no ordinary elf-city (if elf-cities were ordinary)- it was a forest, a city, and a work of art all in one. The buildings were hard to see, and if you did not look hard, blended in with the land. The main hall was the only building actually in a tree- reachable only by a narrow staircase spiraling around the tree. We headed towards it.

Alíenor 51

51
And somehow we found ourselves at a river. I was told it was the river Aielin. Iölan was on the other side.
We let the horses go, assured that they'd be fine, and crossed the wood bridge. I ran my finger over the railing, marveling at how smooth and beautiful it was. I was dragged forward, immediately, though.

Alíenor 50

50
At last- Finally!- we arrived at the trees. Our journey would go much faster, now that we were in the elves' domain: or so I hoped. Our surroundings did not change, and at times I wondered if we were going in circles.

*I cannot guarantee posts for a few days- sorry! 

Alíenor 49

49
Every day we passed towns and mountains  but never forest. They said that we would be arriving any day now, and I watched, yet it never came.

Alíenor 48

48

The first day was long, and slow. As we were not running for our lives this time, we were not thinking about really anything, and there was no deadline. All we could do was wait, and ride, and think about various random things. Certainly my favorite form of entertainment, right?

Alíenor 47

47
And off we went. We had stayed at the elf-isle one night, and now got to be ferried across the bay, ride through potentially unfriendly territory, and make impossible requests that would likely get us killed.
Lovely.

Alíenor 46

46
Aneira and I returned rather quickly that day, but not before we knew what would happen.
We had to leave immediatly, in the company of several elf men and women, to start the land trek to Iolän. We needed fresh clothing, as well as provisions and horses- all being provided by Lady Eilidh. 

Sorry

Double tomorrow! Sorry, will explain

Alíenor 45

45
Eilidh had made her decision, and at our next meeting she did not hesitate to announce it.
"You will go to Iolän."
I had never heard of the place, and neither had Aneira. "I'm sorry?" she asked, to which the elf replied "The elvish capital. You must meet with Elvadriandel- our queen- and tell her what you have learned."

Alíenor 44

44
If possible, the elves are both obstinate and lenient. It was easy for us to schedule a meeting with Eilidh, the elf Lady who ruled the isle, but it was difficult to convince her. However, elves have an uncanny ability to tell truth from untruth, and she did, in the end.
It was enough to worry her, and we had soon planned several more meetings to talk, and decide what to do next.

Alíenor 43

43
We soon found an inn, and put down our things. Everything could wait for tomorrow- I was not anxious for a tail of angry elves.
Speaking of them, you could tell it was an elf island. Aside from the port, you could hardly tell it was a village, and the trees were far older than normal. I still couldn't believe we were here- unscathed.

Alíenor 42

42
A light rain fell as we sailed towards the port. It soaked me as I stood at the rail, but I didn't mind. I kept my eye on the shore, which grew ever closer at an impossibly irritating pace. My feelings didn't match the weather, though. I loved rain like this, and I felt obligated to experience the renewal it gave.
I strained my eyes to view the port, and soon was barely able to see the buildings.

Alíenor 41

41
We still had several hours before land was reached, and that granted plenty of time to plan. It was an elf-island, which would ensure that we were heard out. Even I could tell that success was unlikely. The elves were unpredictable, and answered to no one, but they were wise and powerful.

Alíenor 40

40
The clouds were slow to part, and by the time it was clear night had fallen. It was decided that we would wait for dawn to sail. As I lay in bed that night, I wondered how we would be recieved. It hadn't occured to me until now that they might not believe me. They might think me an imposter sent by the Nameless One to trick them. Who knew?
Because of these thoughts, it makes sense that I didn't sleep that night.

Alíenor 39

39
It seemed as if the storm would never stop. I couldn't tell if we had drifted; clouds and waves combined concealed the land. We had no choice but to wait it out, and hope for the best.
It was truly a blessing when the rain slowed and the clouds broke. 

Alíenor 38

38
Our luck did not hold out, and we soon found ourselves tossed on grey waves. The deck was awash with sailors and water, yet I did not go down. The waves rocked us harder than ever, and for once I was glad not to be in my normal place. I hugged the mast, and would not let go. The anchor was dropped, and the sails lowered, and still I did not let go. It was not said (if it was, it was lost in the howling wind), but all of us knew we'd be lucky to survive it. Even if we were, we'd likely be lost, far from the green stripe that once seemed so close.

Alíenor 37

37
The sailors had already spotted it. I rush to tell Aneira, but the poor girl is too seasick.
The only thing grounding my excitement is the dark clouds that hover ominously ahead. We'll be onshore in a few hours, but it's impossible to tell when the storm would erupt. 

Alíenor 36

36
Several weeks into our travels, I spotted it- a hazy stripe of grey-green, one bit darker than the rest. I was so excited that I nearly fell out of the basket. Scrambling down the ropes, I could barely hold on. I had to tell the others!

*sniff*

Some background: There's a university high school in the town that I live in, and a few months ago many of my friends got in.
So, not only is today the last day of my best year of school, but also the last day I'll be in school with those friends.
And, because we have a field trip today, I won't be in class with them.
And the majority are on a team that is not going on the field trip with us.
It's easy to see why I might at least be a little sad- and having my little sister bouncing around the house does not help at all.
Next year will be one boring year indeed. I only knew them all for two years. TWO YEARS, for heaven's sake, and some less-than. Ugh…

Alíenor 35

35
It felt as if the sea was endless. I had stopped looking for ships, and now for land.
I was tired of the ocean, and we were not even halfway through.

Alíenor 34

(this actully supposed to be before the last. sorry!!)
34
At last we reached the port. The inn tried to take us in, but I, I'm sorry to say, acted rather rudely.
Instead, we looked for the man Mother had mentioned: Erik Gundersson. We found him in a tavern, and told him our need.
Within an hour, we sailed from the port.

Alíenor 33

33
The rocking of the boat did nothing to calm my nerves. We had to get to Iona, else it might be destroyed. The rebels had a far bigger enemy than a man with a loyalty to his country like metal.
Aneira, the poor child, was constantly below deck, seasick. I much preferred to spend my days at the top of the mast, searching the horizon until my eyes watered. Of course the rocking was much worse up here, but I wasn't sick- just panicked when it swung. At some points, I feared I would fall, and clung to the ropes tighter thn ever.

…

will post when possible, unknown when possible. :(

Alíenor 32

32
Aneira and I were exhausted. We could barely sit up in the saddle, and yet we had to go through the night. Our absence would have been noted, and a search party sent out.
We wouldn't stand a chance, unless we were already halfway across the ocean by then. The thought spurred me on- just not my poor horse.

Alíenor 31

31
We needed to get to a non-government port, and I had an idea. Mother had left several things in her trunk from her spying days. She had helpfully provided several maps and contact information, for allies.
I  did not have much. Aside from my dress and cape pockets, and the saddlebags, we had naught but the clothes on our backs. I was frightened out of my wits, but I could not show it. Aneira needed me. We had to get to the port city tomorrow-or else.

Alíenor 30

30
As I rode, my mind wandered.
I found myself thinking about the Seer's Tree.
In the Ionian Shift, seers can summon a great Tree. It is silver, with gilded leaves and a glowing orb for every person. The light changes according to the state of the person. At times it will grow brighter, flicker, dim, and eventually, die out. I wondered about mine, what it was doing. I am no seer, but I am ready to bet that mine is pulsing with the frantic pounding of my heart.

Alíenor 29

29
As I feared, people wonder. My truth-lie rolls easily with lords and ladies, but I can tell the Council does not. It is only a matter of time before I am taken for questioning. Tonight I must run, and now.
I slip out of the room, and run immediately into Aneira. She begs to come with to escape torture, and I grudgingly comply.
The gatekeepers lend us horses, naïve of our plans. It is not yet raining, but thundering. The air is muggy.
The calm does not last long- not ten minutes into our ride, the heavens open. We are soaked within seconds.
And still, we press on.

Alíenor 28

28
Too late, I realize something. If I didn't come up with a truthful lie, I could be killed for wearing black.
The date worked perfectly. It was the fourteenth anniversary of my mother's death, and I would not have to risk a lie.
It was raining that night, and thunder echoed through the castle. As I walked towards the Great Hall, lightening flashed through the arrow slits, and cast eerie shadows on the wall. It matched my feelings exactly. I had to desperately hope they gave me the benefit of the doubt. With reasons like those, a coincidence was near impossible for one naïve of the plan.
If I sensed that they had not given me that, and I escaped immediate capture, I would have to flee tonight. This was the reason I had worn leggings and a tunic under, and sewn the skirt to also be a cape, with pockets for supplies. My knife was strapped to my waist, and I wore two daggers- in a boot, and on my arm. Besides the guards, I would be the most heavily armed girl in the room.

What I'm thinking…

What am I thinking? Oh yeah- Lady of Rain will likely be the first two-monther. So far I think it is my best, and I have not skipped one night. Whoa. That should be a Guiness World Record.
Alíenor is the most epic of my characters, which is saying a lot- I try not to have favorites. Sure, Sara and Max delivered messages, but it was too redundant. Amara was okay, but eh. Hazil (Wait- three months ago!?) was kinda boring, and ended to soon. Don't even get me started on Faye!
As you can obviously see, I am so much a perfectionist that I go a little crazy.
Back to Alíenor. Amazing, fun, two-monther. Got it? Good
Katie

Alíenor 27

27
It was a week before it was safe to go out again. By then I was on the edge, knowing what I was to find. Even though I knew it would cause me pain, I welcomed it.
I heard the same people talking.
"My lord. Ragnarôk had seen one hundred thousand prisoners today- a cause to celebrate." I had heard stories or Ragnarôk, the Ionian death camp, and to hear the silky voice speaking about on in a positive light sent shivers down my spine.
"Indeed. We shall have to have a feast for our inhabitants, will we not?"
Plans continued, and I left quickly, but I had made a decision: I would wear black to this feast, for perhaps fifty had made it out of Ragnarôk alive.

Alíenor 26

26
I wanted more than ever to slip out again, but it would have been reckless. There had been a rumor of attack sometime tonight, and a guard had been posted at every door. It would be a death sentence.
Instead, I had the lovely chance to contemplate what to do next. I couldn't very well stay here forever, without putting my research to light- at some point, I'd have to run.

Alíenor 25

25
I could barely eat the next morning. What I had heard would never register to me, as it was so unexpected.
If the other ladies noticed, they did not say anything, which was to be expected. I reported to Aneira, and she was as shocked as I. In the end, we agreed that I had to do it again- and soon.

Alíenor 24

24
That night I slipped out for the first time. The castle was dark and damp, with no light but for a torch ever five yards or so. The hallways were, for the most part, empty, so I had a better chance of surviving the night.
When I heard footsteps and murmured voices, I pressed myself into a corner.
"My lord- how is our little pet?" A silky voice broke free of the gloom.
"Excellent, my child. They have a new Nameless One, even more loyal and patriotic than the last.  He is easy to convince: he will do anything to secure the well-being of his country and his daughter."
"Oh, how sweet. I simply love a good father-daughter relationship! And when he is willing to sacrifice hundreds of acres of good farmland, not to mention the byproduct of those lives lost, it only seasons the meat."
I had heard enough. Iona was ruled by the Nameless One, who was being forced to weaken his own country to save it. I quietly stole away: back to bed.

Alíenor 23

23
The banquet was not exactly what I had expected. Nothing much happened- no one talked, we only ate and danced a bit. I mostly watched the older ladies as they danced with suitors. Because I was younger, no man asked me to dance. I was glad because of this- I could not get attached to any element of Llyn Idwal, or else.

Alíenor 22

22
At last the day of  my first court appearance arrived. I spent several hours preparing- I had to be perfect.
Aneira (bless her) slipped me a dagger before I left. I had taken my chances, and told her the story of my mother. She was fully on my side, and despite being notorious for gossip, I trusted her with this.
Because I was new, it was custom for me to sit at the table of the Council. I had to remember all they said, to write it down.

Alíenor 21

21
At long last I was allowed out of my apartments. I was now able to join the others at their sewing and gossip. The Coumcil held banquets nearly once a week, I had been told, and I was excited to make an appearence. I was bitterly disapointed to hear that I had just barely missed one.
My life in general was rather dull. I was not even remotely like the others, who were content to embroider and gossip all day. I had to start taking some more risks, if I were to find the imformation I needed.
I had few friends besides Aneira. Most of the ladies shunned me because of my background. Not even the servants understood me, and I was most similer to them. 

Alíenor 20

20
I was confined to my apartment for weeks, studying and studying. Aneira was my only friendly company- all my tutors had an arrogant air about them, and I absolutely despised them.
At last one found me sufficiantly versed in history, then another in manners, and still another in court functions. Each followed another, withdrawing their services, and before long I had one left, yet scheduled to leave in a week.
I was ecstatic. Aneira hurried the seamstress who was building my new wardrobe, and for morst of my free time, I was poked and prodded with needles and pins. I had to sew a bit, yet it did not bother me. I would much rather sew something useful than embroider a decoration.
My apartments were coming together. I knew I couldn't become too attached to the castle and the people here, but it was near impossible. Even if Aneira believed me, there was a slim chance of the others following my lead. 

Alienor 18

18
I was quickly assigned a maidservant- Aneira. We became fast friends, sharing much in common.
Not much went on in court. I rarely met with the other ladies, as my education was continued. Aneira stayed with me as studied, and she was rather nice, but I would have liked to have more companions.
I was forbidden from stepping foot outside my apartments until the dreaded tutoring was over.

Alíenor 17

17
Disappointment. We have had to stop halfway there because of a sudden thunderstorm that has temporarily flooded our path.
The servants started pumping the water out, but it will take us to tomorrow. I shall not see my new home today.
One good thing came out of it: When it started to rain, we stopped at an open rain shelter. I stood at the edge, and watched the rain. The land was beautiful, and though costly to our time, I do not regret stopping.

Alíenor 16

16
The week dragged on, but somehow I made it to our departure day.
For the first three hours of the two-day journey, I sang every song I knew at least a dozen times. My tutor complained several times about the noise, and I was not certain Laird Arisaig was that happy, but I didn't care.
I really was acting for myself. When you know that you are likely going to your death, you must lie to yourself somehow.
I couldn't let them suspect the reasons I was frightened. If they did, well… off to the guillotene with me.
We would arrive the next day- and I would face the danger of Llyn Idwal.

Alíenor 15

15
I really didn't get to do much. My days were spent with the tutor, and I had no idea what to do with my free time, not that I had any. I learned embroidery and needlecraft, and penmanship, and the like.
I wished we would leave Arisaig, and get to Llyn Idwal. Life was dull, and I felt more out-of-place than ever.

Alíenor 14

14
We stopped in Arisaig, a tiny village that Laird Arisaig (hence his name) owned. It consisted of a manor house, and a single street. On one side, you had your houses, and the other was shops.
It was nightfall when we arrived. The air was thick, but I was excited to leave my newfound prison. It was like an oven inside of there, and the muggy night felt like a spring breeze.
I barely remember entering the manor, or the servant who led me to my temporary bedchamber, or even getting into bed. All I knew was sleep.

Alíenor 13

13
We traveled for days- I lost track. I had never been this far from home, and I was restless. I wished to open the curtains on the litter, but Laird Arisaig refused to grant permission. I wanted to see the beauty of Lashar for myself- hearing the same epics and poems about it doesn't suffice- but I could not. I had to content myself with lessons. You would think I had manners enough, from living as a servant, but the tutor from the court was disgusted with my conduct. I had to be taught all sorts of new things: etiquette, languages, history, and the like. Excited I was for this new life, but impatient for it, too.  

Alíenor 12

12
I had been moved out of my servant quarters for the night, and woke up to a surprise. A friend of mine, Danielle, was lighting the stone fireplace.
"Danielle!" I sat bolt upright. "What in heaven's name-"
"Good morning, my lady. It is nice to see you awake."
I was shocked. She had never spoken to me like this before! Then it it me: it was my new position. My name was Lady Alíenor of Llyn Idwal, and Danielle was under me. To my utter horror, I began to cry. "Please don't say that," I sobbed.
She looked at me, her face a mask of fear. "I am sorry, Alíenor! I have been ordered. We all have been."
"It's not you- I promise. I only am frightened. What awaits me there?" I could not help but weep harder.

Alíenor 11

11
I could not stop myself from sobbing as I packed my few belongings.  As much as I hated working for the duke, this was my home. I had lived here for the majority of my life, and I was leaving to go into a world of uncertainty and danger. I had heard of what I would recieve: expensive clothing, lavish quarters, and an extensive education. Not the worst welcome.
But I was also worried about my entrance to the court. I had come from servanthood, and (no use to lie) had grown beautiful. There were plenty of reasons to shut me out, and I knew not how to act.
I will leave at first light. At that time, servants would be lighting fires, cooking breakfast, feeding animals, dressng nobility- and I will be riding in a jewelled litter to Llyn Idwal, and my new future.

Alíenor 10

10
That night, I once more visited Lady Elvira.
"You were chosen." She spoke plainly, resolved to my fate.
"Yes." At this moment, I decided to take a chance: a gamble that could easily cost my life.
"I think you know- or could guess- what I have thought about lately, and where I stand on things. I only wanted to ask for advice- I am scared, but I need time. I know not what to do."
Elvira stared at the arrow-slits in the wall. "Time. Never regained, longed for, but wasted." She turned to me. "Alíenor, dear. I am neutral on the current events, but I shall give you your advice: Make your own decisions. It is your life that only you must control, and protect if necessary. You must decide on what is best for both you and the good of Lashar. I'm afraid you may be oversimplifying the problem. I do not wish to scare you, but this is worldwide. Iona, Anabru: They have their own problems. Know that the cause is not limited to Ayr, Llyn Idwal, or even Lashar."

Alíenor 9

9
"Alíenor. Good. You are early." Lord Ayr spoke to me with a mocking tone. It was all I could do but restrain myself from strangling the boy.
"My lords," I murmured with my head down.
"This is Laird Arisaig. He is from Llyn Idwal."
"Yes sir." I had not straightened from my curtsy, and I stared at the floor, but I could feel his eyes on me. In the future, that could be a problem.
No one spoke until a few other servants had trickled in.
"Servants- Laird Arisaig is looking for another lady for the court of Llyn Idwal."
So it was true!
"He shall choose one of you to go with him and his wife back, and you shall join the court there. Rags to riches and all that. Line up!"
We hastened to do his bidding, and the Laird walked up and down in front of us. I tried to keep my lip from trembling, but I had a revelation first. What if I learned more, and notified the rebels of Iona? It was a stretch, but it was possible.
I looked up, and smiled. He stopped.
"You are...?"
"Alíenor, my lord."
"Age?"
"Thirteen, nearly fourteen."
He asked several more questions, all of which I answered, before moving to the next person. His eyes were on me, and I knew, but said nothing.
Finally, he turned back to the duke. "I have decided on a girl, but I want you to guess. She is a beautiful girl, yet younger than fifteen."
I held my breath- if I was chosen, my future could easily go both ways.
"And her name is..."
I stiffened.
"Lady Alíenor of Llyn Idwal."

Alíenor 8

8
I knew that something was different when I and a few others were summoned to the Great Hall. We weren't generally kitchen staff, and we would know weeks beforehand if there was to be a dinner. I had no idea what it was.
Perhaps that was the reason that I visited Lady Elvira's apartment a half hour before I had to go.
"I have no idea," she told me while scrubbing my face clean. "It is quite unlike Lord Ayr to do things such as this. There are rumors that he has been speaking to Llyn Idwal, but I cannot be certain whether or not they are true."
Llyn Idwal! My mother's birthplace, and nightmare.
After making sure I wore a clean dress, my hair was clean, and my face had been washed just short of rawness, she sent me on my merry way. I walked quickly to avoid tardiness. I, in fact, was two minutes early.
The duke stood talking with a man, but they turned to face me. I bobbed in a low curtsy.

Alíenor 7

7
As I read, I did begin to understand why. She had been born in Llyn Idwal, the capital and home of the Council, and had heard several secrets I shudder to record here. She was terrified to stay, but faced with an option: come to live at Ayr. She left at the age of twelve (one year younger than me!), and became a lady-in -waiting.
I was shocked at what she had endured, living with that knowledge, but also saddened. She had died with the knowledge that she had failed in her job.
I had to take up her mantle. Maybe it was only to honor her, but I also felt obligated to. 

Alíenor 6

6
I left soon after, and got ready for bed. I couldn't sleep, though. I couldn't stop thinking about my parents, and why they could have hated the Council so!
I was in a fog for the whole of the next day, but that night my decision was made: I would read my mother's books.
I inherited very little from my mother. Book made up much of it- leather-backed journals, cloth-covered novels- and no money was to be found. I had found a not in the first, when I was eight:
My dear unborn child,
If you are reading this, you are breaking a moral rule: no spying in other's personal things. You are not ready to learn some things, no matter how mature you believe you are. Please wait till you are at least a teenager, and wondering why I did the things I did. If you are, read on!
Your loving mother,
Aenor Ayr
I turned thirteen (nearly) a year ago, but I did not wonder. Now, I open the fragile book, and begin to read.

A(n AWESOME) photo

Guess who!

My good friend Adrian Chiligiris, a rising star in the art world (she's doing art for a new movie and she's my age. Yikes!), did this for me! Isn't it amazing? I have so many art friends...

Alíenor 5

5
"Well, if she was such a wonderful person there must have been a reason- right?"
"Child, never say that! I agree with you, but you will be dismissed if you are heard. Lord Ayr has spies, you know."
I pried them for more information, but they held fast, not even giving me one more bit.
By the time I had to leave, I wanted to wring their necks in frustration. They were my parents! Even as a lowly maidservant, did I not have the right to know?
Lady Elvira had invited me to her quarters that night, and I was rather excited.
I dressed in my best clothing (still worn and filthy), attempted to brush my hair, and walked to her quarters.
"Madame? I am here!"
We sat down in a glass-windowed area, and chatted amiably. I convinced her to give me a last bit of memories, and it was shocking:
"Your father- he was executed for speaking against the Council."

Alíenor 4

4
"No wonder!"
"How did we not know?"
"She's the spitting image of Aenor!"
"Watch your language, Elvira!"
"She is!"
I stepped back. "My ladies! I asked what she was like. Please- I never knew her."
Lady Elvira, the eldest, stood and took my grimy hands in her soft, wrinkled ones. "Alíenor, your mother was the most beautiful in the court-even the other ladies could not deny it. The most striking thing abkut her, however, was not her beauty. No, it was her kindness. She would chat with the servants. She would go out of her way to show the worst of the worst kindness. But there was one peculier thing about her: She opposed the Council wholeheartedly. It was for that reason that she was forced to leave the court. A knight- your father and her future husband- went with her voluntarily, but no one else did. The oldest of us regret that deeply.

Alíenor 3

3
I worked harder then ever in those days, sometimes even serving the ladies of the court.
Being around them gave me opporitunity to learn of gossip. Normally it was dull- who was seeing who, who the duke  would marry- but one day, I learned something.
"Remember Lady Aenor? I wonder where she is."
I stiffened. My mother had been part of the court, before she left to marry my father.
"Oh, yes- the poor sweet child. She died giving birth to her second: didn't you know?"
Second? I did not have an older brother or sister.
"She was my best friend. I do miss her!"
"You knew my mother?" I clapped my hand over my mouth-I could be expelled!
The oldest spoke. "What was that, child? It is fine to talk."
"You-you knew Lady Aenor. My mother. Please tell me about her!"
I was traveling on thin ice- servants were not to ask questions much less give orders!
And meawhile the ladies stared.

A Random Thought

It's nice when you have friends in Germany who pop over every few years with Swiss chocolate...

Wait- make that hazelnut Swiss chocolate! :D

Alíenor 2

2
As the young Duke grew older, I grew older. Soon he didn't need a nanny, and I was needed in other areas, with cleaning.
My dream was to be one of the ladies of the court, and I believe the Duchess was working on that. However, when she and her husband fell gravely ill, and passed away, my dream died too. As earlier mentioned, the new Duke despised me, and I was certain he would put my back a few steps in the caste system.
Somehow that has not happened, and they died two years ago, when I was eleven and he was seven.
My life since then has been a living nightmare. You wouldn't think a nine-year-old could be so cruel, but he is!
I've even heard rumors about him being a candidate for the Council. This is one thing I'm really scared of!

Alíenor 1

1
My name is Alíenor. I was named for my mother, Aenor, for several reasons:
-She died right after I was born.
-They didn't have any creativity (it means 'the other Aenor'!)
-I was going to be named for a parent anyway.
My mother didn't only die from me. Right after she received the news that Father had died, she went into labor. They said she died from grief.
Because I was an orphan, I bounced from relative to relative. I ran out of those when I was six, so in my last  grandmother's will, she sent me to Ayr.
At that time the first Duke and Duchess ruled. I had the job of junior nanny, which put me in charge of watching the sickly, ill-tempered two-year-old while my superior flirted with the knights.
Life wasn't good, but not too bad.

Another month?

Wow. It's hard to believe that I've gone a third of the year! It seems like yesterday that I came up with Sagecliff on the plane ride to Texas, this morning when I decided on Amara, lunchtime when I (frantically) found Hazil, and dinner when Faye popped into my head. Now I find myself two months away from the halfway mark, with a flood of inspiation ready to break free.
I do apologize for not doing a double-month for Faye, as some would have liked. I just completely lost ideas, and believe me, you do not want to listen to my ramblings about cheese.
In short, I have a new story!
Alíenor is a simple girl, waking up at dawn to serve the nine-year-old Duke of Ayr, who happend to dislike her strongly.
That's really all I can say!

Faye 30

Dear Faye,

I've caused problems to- you aren't the only one! We can start over: everyone makes mistakes, and it doesn't matter how big it is to God. Don't worry about that!

As for the writing, I'll gladly help you with that. I'm happy to see you start, and eager to see what this new hobby cultivates.

Thanks for writing,

Elene

Faye 28

Dear Elene,
In the past I have not been the person I should have been, and I have certainly not been very welcoming towards you and Leanor. I want to apologize for any of these instances, and ask you a question:
Can we start over? I don't know if it is too much to ask- I've messed up this year too much- but if it is, that is okay.
If we can somehow start over, I want to write. If you have any tips, please help! I apologize for any behind the back thoughts and comments.
Please forgive me,
Faye

Faye 26

Elene comes back today! I am so excited-and nervous- that I have been up since four (it's six now) composing myself, and deciding what to say. I am worried that I will sound insincere, or worse, scripted.
The sun hasn't even come up yet, and I lie in bed thinking. Finally, I decide on something: a letter. After all, now we both write! This will make Confrontation a whole lot easier!
I slip out from between the warm comforter, and pad over to my desk. A paper sits there, as usual, ready for words.
Dear Elene,
I admit that I have closed you and Leanor out, and acted cold. I have criticized---
No. That will not work.
Dear Elene,
I just  wanted to apologize for any sort of rude, mean, or cold behavior I have---
Agh! Why is this so hard? A simple letter: that is all it is! Now, to try again…