~ The 24th 8ilunar Perigee of the 2nd Dim Season's Equinox. ~ I have made a discovery of relatively little concern to myself, 8ut greatly damning for the likes of my 8eloathed rivals of the sea. It is with great pride in myself that I have concluded victory does not need to 8e a spectacle. It only needs to 8e complete. Conquest may 8e accompanied 8y thunder, procession, or any other sym8ol of visual intrigue, yet victory may not meet such a vi8rant lover at the center. It has 8een 8rought to my attention, through methods neither gentle nor unsolicited, that my name has 8egun to survive in mouths I have never had the pleasure of ruining. The indignity of this is not an unfamiliar one. A woman may command ships, dismantle foes, ruin 8loodlines, and take lovers 8y the fistful, and still find herself a little slack in posterity, reduced to a story told 8y those with neither the talent to fear her correctly nor the taste to adore her with competence. How often can history prove itself to 8e the lowest form of piracy? It takes without daring, repeats without understanding, and spends its stolen treasure on the cheapest possi8le myths. Still, I must confess that I am amused. Somewhere, some soft-knuckled creature has found a page of mine and thought it a relic. An old thing pinned 8eneath glass for the dull pleasure of those who dare not indulge in anything 8ut their safe distance from my own self. I can almost see the little scholar's weary hands, careful and reverent, as he smooths the corner of my page as though the paper itself were fragile. Of course, in reality, it is his wretched skin that would sooner tear. Ink remem8ers the wrist that commanded it, and paper remem8ers the pressure of the words one intended to inscri8e. A journal, properly kept, is not just a mausoleum of one's own thoughts. Rather, it is a 8lade left in the drawer, like a razor of sentimentality. I am a gr8 enough master of the forge not to allow such instruments of my own cre8ion to harm me. I wonder, of course, what they will make of me. Will I 8e a villainess in the eyes of history? Perhaps. It is a favored outcome, in my experience. Alternia, in all of its flaws, does tend to put cruelty in a costume of myth and demand it dance around for them like swing8easts next to a calliope. Then again, they may accuse me of 8eing something of a hero to the peoples of Alternia, what with my insurrectionist streak against port authorities, my ta8oo with the Orphaner, and my complete disdain for all things Imperial. It would depend on how soon, and how effectively, the Empress is removed from her position as the Over8earer of All Things Mundane. One thing is true of what they will say, though. They will say I was merciless, which is not an opposing virtue to violence, mind you. Mercy is a luxury good. I have, of course, dispensed it as it suited me, or as it entertained me. I have also falsified it when the forgery proved more profita8le than the jewel. They will also say I was poor in certain aspects of appreci8ion for my quadrants. There is the 8are throat of the matter. I have loved as I have sailed, with an app8ite. Every maneuver has 8een a long-thought calcul8tion, made with the expect8tion that the sea itself will 8e my end for presuming anything else. I have loved red with my teeth hidden, and h8d pitch with my fangs piercing the other's carapace. I have 8een accused of loving the Orphaner in the manner one loves a storm that decides to come at the most inconvenient of hours. I have loved conquest, and the clever silences 8etween. If these future voyeurs of my love should possess any wit at all, they would know not to question whether love may 8e sincere. Rather, they should know not to mistake the collar of a quadrant for jewelry instead of a dreaded weight. Sincerity is the excuse of creatures too clumsy to act with layers, of course. Sincerity was all the Orphaner could offer me in our times. Devotion can 8e sincere. Mistakes can 8e sincere. However, reaping a field planted in sincerity will only result in dried nothing. I have, admittedly, a faint irrit8tion at 8eing read without the opportunity to answer. This is not quite anger, however. It is the sens8tion of hearing your own autopsy performed 8y a drunken apprentice, or a 8ard mispronouncing your name in praise. The scalpel in the wrong hand is offensive 8ecause it misunderstands the cadaver. Should some occult little mechanism exist, an aperture that would allow me to commune with these trespassing gazes, I would offer them a courtesy. Reader. You have not opened my journal. You have merely entered the room where I left it waiting. You do not possess it. Only I preserve it. Until next time, sweet readers. If you are really out there.
iT IS NICE THAT YOU HAVE, a GOOD QUALITY JOURNAL MA'AM, tHERE HAS BEEN A MASSIVE SHORTAGE HERE LATELY, oN ACCOUNT OF,,, nO, i DON'T EVEN WANT TO SAY IT,
How charming, little cavalreaper, that your first concern upon meeting a 8lade in literary form is whether the sheath has suffered a supply issue. I should expect nothing less from one whose manners appear to have survived nearly everything else. A shortage of journals is a quaint calamity, though I confess myself curious what catastrophe could have so thoroughly devoured the st8tionery trade that even speaking of it offends your nerves. Still, I accept the compliment. Quality is not an accident, nor is preserv8tion. Some creatures write to remem8er themselves or 8ecause the world will inevita8ly require correction on the matter of their existence. I recommend you secure a volume of your own while any remain, if only 8ecause history is terri8ly unkind to pages who let others hold the pen. How is it that you intend to 8e written?
uMM,,, wELL, i THINK THE WRITINGS ON ME, aLREADY HAVE BEEN KIND OF,,, nOT THE MOST FLATTERING, i MEAN ANY PLACES OF REVERENCE THAT COULD POTENTIALLY, hAVE BEEN USED TOWARDS ME ARE USED SOLELY FOR, oNE PARTICULAR bREATH-Y GUY AND NOT ME BUT, i THINK i WOULD LIKE TO BE WRITTEN AS SOMEONE, wHO WAS GOOD AT HELPING AND PROTECTING HER FRIENDS AND, wOULD ALWAYS BE THERE TO SAVE THE NIGHT, i DO THINK THAT, sOME OF THE DRAWINGS i'VE FOUND RECENTLY, mAY BE A GOOD RECORD OF OTHER THINGS, tHOUGH WHICH MIGHT BE FUN,