The book is bound in a yellow cover, with a single royalis flower pressed into the surface. Some of the pages are loose and stick out askew, while the contents are penned in a refined lettering- and written in Procyese.
Gods, where to begin with this? I suppose with the relief I've found in reuniting with my brother and sister, after all these moons apart. When everything fell apart as it did, I had feared the worst- It's a blessing that the two of them remembered father's instructions. The fare to Kalris must have cost them all of the coin they could carry, as it did for me. For all the restless nights I spent searching for them, though, I must say I hadn't held as much faith for the two of them as I perhaps should. They seem to have held their own and settled in with greater ease than I ever could have anticipated, while I find myself floundering at most every step- and to imagine, someone like me would have been made king.
Tansy was always the creative sort, and, in particular, always had a bit of a fixation on fashion- so it's of no shock to me that she's fallen into study of tailoring. What does come as a bit of a surprise is the fascination she's taken up in the Kalrisian pantheon, given her disinterest in any tutors' lessons on the metaphysical. Still, I see no harm in it- especially given the nature of the one who's patronage she's drawn. If it motivates her to strive for goodness and keeps her out of trouble, all the more power to her.
Theseus, on the other paw? I hold my little brother in the whole of my heart, but courage without care is a dangerous thing, and I can only pray that he heeds my warnings and doesn't learn to hold his tongue the hard way. Though, for as much as I fear for him I have faith that his heart is in the right place, and will guide his blade and shield true. Foolhardy and vengeful as I worry he can be at times, he's always been true and pure of heart, that much I could never be uncertain of.
As for myself, I suppose I'm faring better than dead. My studies have been lagging far behind both my brother's and my sister's- with troubled sleep making it no easier to sharpen my mind, nor the swing of my axe-hand. A potion, lent to me by a kind fox by the name of Faithil, did aid me with rest for a day, though I'm not sure yet whether it's effects will make due in the long-term. In any case, with my siblings both accounted for and a new burrow to make my home in, I find my worries lessened, and the cacophony of my mind contented at most hours. As the nights grow dim and quiet, however, I still find I cannot always ignore the gnawing dreads and utterances from darkened corners, and on some I find myself unable to will the paranoia-drawn tricks of my vision away, try as I might.
I'm holding out hope that future nights here will come with easier rest and peace of mind, however doubtful as I am of such. I suppose only time can tell, and I'll simply have to have the patience to see it.