wizen's avatar


  • 2021-12-06 17:49

Dear Journal,

I have spent the past few days thinking about my elders, and of their deaths. It is no small thing to lose someone you care for deeply, who has touched your life in a way so concrete that you doubt that you would be the person you are, today, had it not been for their influence. I did not know Lilianne or Hollister Thinnas, and that pains me.

When I observe my peers interacting with their elders, I see loyalty, tenacity, and empathy, and it positively wrecks me inside that I have not been able to have that with my family, my grandfather and grandmother. My mother is still alive, and while we have a good relationship, she will not let me read her journals. I am relieved I have these archived copies here, as it would be nice to learn of the circumstances of my mother's birth. I've heard the story from Mother many times, but it will be interesting to (eventually) hear how much and what she has eschewed.

We're on high alert.

I fell asleep on watch last night. We all did. I can't say how long we were out. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours, but we aren't where we were before. For one, there are trees nearby, now. For another, the stars are different. Strange. Alien, even. The trees are Yallow and Nirnc and are deeply rooted, as though they have been here for centuries, and the ground undisturbed. Puzzling.

Also puzzling are the new bird calls I've heard since waking. We've sent scouts out to survey the immediate area, and have doubled the amount of people on guard. Not that there are many of us left. We were all going to die in that diseased wasteland. This exodus can only be an improvement, and while I am grateful to the gods for the apparent improvement in out situation, it is also a puzzle, and I don't like puzzles. They have a way of showing up when someone doesn't want you to know something. For now, I will play along, but whatever gods exist in this place apart must know that I have my eyes open.


...at least while you're not enchanted to lose time or memory or to sleep, or something. Far be it for me to judge what happened in that very short time span – what actually happened remains somewhat of a mystery to this very day. No one who was moved to Terminus – for that is what happened – can say precisely how it is that the Elves were able to find their succor.

The journal continues on another page,

My fellow scouts and I have found nothing threatening in the nearby woods. New varieties of bird, evidence of other kinds of tree not too far from here – trees that are not native to S'iolaen, but nothing threatening to a people well versed in the ways of the natural world. We have even seen a new variety of fox-like creature, able to orange circles around glowing white eyes surrounded by a flashing spectral spread of feathers, hidden when it would harm their survival chances.

Good that we saw it during the day – at night they must be virtually invisible. Maybe the feather display is to lure in creatures and eat them whole? We have also seen glowing insects with large, fluttering wings that we've taken to calling flutterbugs, and small swooping, dark-furred beasts with fangs and cloak-like wings who swoop down from the shroud of the trees for an easy meal, or sometimes as an easy meal.

Time marches on and seasons pass, and sooner than we'd like it will be winter. Our next task will be to find a place that we can defend, with fertile ground and a natural choke point, where we can plant this seed. It will be our new home. I will fight to defend it to my last breath.


There seems to be far greater number pages of Grandfather's writings than there were of Great-grandmother's. I am fortunate in that, as the words of our elders are to be treasured. They are more complete, as well, as they have been preserved with great care.

Grandfather's description of his first sighting of flutterbugs, snatchhounds, and terrabats made me smile. It is grand to think of how fresh and new this world we live in truly is. We elves came from a history where we had been the dominant peoples on S'iolaen for thousands of years, where as of this writing we were a scant few survivors, compared to how many we once were. Lost and alone and discovering a new world.

I think I shall enjoy transcribing this.

Yours Sincerely,
h weissen thalesred signature