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Welcome to Lore, one of the worlds created by the Deities of Alyth, where almost anything can happen. With some magitech, Lore nevertheless relies heavily on beasts of burden and family-run, eco-friendly industries. Towns are somewhat numerous over the gigantic world yet far between and the wilderness is rife with danger, but Lorians have thrived here. It is home, it is wild, and it is breath-taking ľ but mind your step.

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Celo's Diary; For recording and pondering
Topic Started: September 30, 2014, 9:44 pm (75 Views)
Zeromus
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Entry #1

Dear Diary,

Mama's so nice giving me my very own book to write in! Mama says that even though I'm only five years old, I should practice my writing whenever I can. She says that I'm really good at writing for my age, and all of the maids say so too. It makes me really happy! Papa's been a little scary though. Ever since Mama hired the maids, he's had a scary look. I think he's mad at Mama, but I don't know why. Mama seems kind of sad about it too. I'm kind of scared, Diary. But I don't want to fill you with sad thoughts! I'll write again in you later, okay?
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Entry #7

Dear Diary,

It's been about five years since I'd first acquired you, my dear Diary. Mother did tell me it would be a good idea to write in you to improve my writing, but now I find myself only writing when I remember that you rest on my bookshelf. Today is one of those days, as a maid had to dust my shelves and remove my children's books. I was a little saddened by the occasion, but Mother and Father tell me that letting go of things is a part of growing up. I insisted on keeping you, however. You are my favorite book, because you are the book that only I can write in, and the only book that can respond to my feelings. I must really thank my mother for such a wonderful gift.

Of course, I've started special lessons in literature. Could you tell? I suppose you could. Do I sound more grown up? More sophisticated? Mother says that I sound like a well-groomed scholar, whatever that means. I should ask my mentor the next time I see him. He says that I have a bright future ahead if I focus on literature. Father says it's because our kind have the most amazing memory on Lore. I didn't realize we were so amazing! My mentor also says that keeping a hold of a diary is a very good idea if I wish to relieve stress, but I don't think that I have any stress. I'm sure it's more adult talk that I'll learn in a few years.

On another note, Father is becoming really strict with my curfew. All of my lessons take place inside our manor, so I don't have the chance to make friends. He doesn't allow me any pets either. I'm not even allowed outside the manor aside from holidays anymore. Mother seems to want to speak up, but she finds it better not to argue with Father on these matters for some reason. Father's more strict with the maids than with me, however. He forces them to wear gloves and masks for all of their work, and if one coughs or sneezes, he scolds them and sends them to a small house over a hill behind our home. I hope he's nicer to the maids, they've done so much for us. That's all for today Diary, I'll speak to you later on.
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Entry #16

Dear Diary,

At the age of thirteen, my mentor has suggested to me to begin thinking of a dream. And not the sort of dream that comes at night, he says. He wants me to think of a profession, an occupation that I can find joy in undertaking. I'd never been one to think of the future, Diary, but I take what my mentor has told me to heart. He has not lied to me, nor has he misled me with his teachings thus far, yet somehow I feel as though he has placed a heavier burden on me than he realizes. For once, I'm at a loss. I'll write more after I've eased my mind a bit, Diary.
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Entry #17

Dear Diary,

In seeking the answer to finding my own dream, I decided to ask my mother if she herself had a dream she had fulfilled or wished to fulfill. She gave me a wide grin that was unusually bright, a look that had never once appeared on my mother unless she was gazing out of the large windows spread across the manor. She insisted I sit down for her story, so I grabbed the nearest wooden chair and heeded her command. She told me stories of the outside world, of lakes and ponds, of felines and canines, and of love and sorrow, all of which I had only seen in books and stories as a child. She spent minutes detailing the cracks on rocks she had passed by, the smell and feel of a blisteringly heated road filled with mules and the like, of the dark grey sky that came before storms. She especially painted the images of lovers she had met along the way, and the pains and triumphs of each and every one. She told me of the horrors of war, and the conditions it brought upon its soldiers, no matter how just the cause. She did all of this while gazing longingly at the outside world, only a window out of reach. She then asked me if I could understand her dream.

I nodded nay.

She seemed perplexed by my nay, saying that I've had the same look in my eye since I was a child, but I couldn't understand what she meant by such a thing. When I looked outside, all I could see were the greens and blues that seemed to cover every landscape. Perhaps it is another adult circumstance that will become clear with age. I'll tell you once I find out, dearest Diary.
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Entry #20

Dear Diary,

Today was the first day I have left the confines of my home in years. The opportunity arose when Father asked me to accompany him to the town for food and supplies. He told me that despite his usual disdain for the outside world, he still believed that having experience with the outside world is fundamental to developing a well-rounded mind. Although I was happy to be able to go outside with permission from my father, it brought an interesting question to mind; why have we forced ourselves to be confined in our manor? It makes no sense to me. I hope Father has a good reason. He's not a man that does something without a reason, I've learned. But aside from that, I need to tell you of my adventures in the outside world, no?

The outside world is strange and foreign. The town Father and I went down to was a concoction of browns, greens, browns, and greens. It was wholly different from the world my mother had described to me, but oddly enough, I didn't find myself disappointed. Quite the opposite in fact; I couldn't help but marvel at the buildings and the shops, nor could I ignore the people and how each and every one of them carried themselves down the streets. I found myself completely entranced by the lively nature that I had only experienced in novels before. I felt so . . . alive. I'll write to you again after another development occurs, Diary. Tonight I dream of the outside.
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Entry #22

Dear Diary,

Tonight marks the first night I've written inside your confines past sunset. The reason for this is very exciting; tonight was the first time I've dared to leave my home unsupervised! The very notion of being on my own for once was something that had never even crossed my mind. What brought on this sudden decision, you ask me, Diary? Why, it was a harmless recommendation from my mentor. He advised me to think of something outside of my normal field of view, something I hadn't spent much time focusing on, in order to perhaps stimulate a dormant desire I may hold. This led to a newfound desire to go outside once more, and that in itself led me to sneaking out of the manor by my pretending to read after dinner. It was a solution much simpler than I had originally thought.

The land surrounding the manor was in pristine condition, I'm glad to report. Every blade of grass was green as the emeralds that were described by great treasure hunters, the air was crisp, and the setting sun left a beautiful hue of orange on the hill across from our manor. Strange enough, there was a forest on the side of our home that I had never noticed before, but the trees were gigantic! The canopy of the area cast a huge shadow in the opposite direction, and nearly blotted out the core of the forest with inky darkness. I would have approached one of the trees to observe them, but for some reason I felt that it was really dangerous and decided against it. I'm sure I heard the growl of a monster coming from within. . . the same growl hunters record with fear in their journals. Was the outside world truly such a dangerous place. . ?

I question these things and more, Diary, but the more important topic that needs to be discussed is my dream. Although I still do not know what profession I wish to apprentice under, I do believe I want it to be something that involves the outside world. The land outside the manor's walls entrances me, but I may still be naive in assuming that my life should belong to something I do not understand. I'll speak of this to Mother and Father to see what they think on the matter. Until then, farewell Diary.
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Entry #23

Dear Diary,

I have sad news today, Diary. My ambitions involving the outside world have been dashed by my father. He was absolutely baffled by my suggestion, quickly replying nay to my desire. Mother had no words for my defense, it had seemed, although she looked as if she had stifled her own words before they could escape her mouth. Being entirely at a loss during the exchange, I asked my father why it was futile for my dream to lay outside our manor. He responded with what almost felt like hostile intent, warning me that abandoning the safety of our abode would put not only myself in danger, but also both Mother and himself. It was truly frightening, Diary. It seemed as though his warning was a threat at my life more than stern advice, and that was a side of my father I had never seen before. Did Mother also have such a vicious persona in her as well? Did the maids? Did I? I find myself totally and undeniably confused, and so close to my fourteenth birthday as well. I'll ask my mentor his opinion once I find the chance, Diary. Until then.
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