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On the Wings of TimeTwelfth day of the third month, year 438 since The Fall:
Today I was deep in thought as I walked around the great lake. I passed three witches covens on my trek; their influence seems to be growing as of late. However, perhaps less so now, as one of them made the mistake of insulting me as I passed though. Every last one of them lay dead before I left. I steered clear of the other two covens though, if conflict finds you, you must answer in kind, but there is no need to seek it out.
The reason for my discontent is concern over our newest recruit. They say she is a prodigy, but she is so young, so very young. She hasn't even begun to develop her true wings yet, and yet she requests to take the test now. True, she has displayed significant skill in using the blood mist, but none her age have even attempted the test in centuries. Our order numbers few enough as is, we don't need to throw away the lives of the young to allow them to indulge their foolish arrogance. It troubles me though, s
Our DutyWe swallowed the path home
Because we were hungry,
Though starving is an ongoing
Story, an empty bag
Dancing in the streets,
Full of an unfastened voice
Walking through the house,
Wind unchained, heart admonished.
Heaven fills its eyes, crawls away,
That sleeping boat content to follow
The vacant waves, intervals
Of dying that we dare not interrupt,
And we watch the kind ear shrinking
From our charcoal docks; heaven
With a full stomach crawls away.
This is what we were put here for.
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