((All of Lyta's diary entries from the ERN. Posting the back log as one.))
The book is clearly handmade, and by someone incredibly deft at such work, without the aid of technology or magic. It's pulp pages are sewn together with twine, and the binding and backing is made of thick, cured bark and leather. The last few pages act as a makeshift file, holding crumpled, folded, and pressed drawings and sketches on various types of paper, and with various types of medium. All of them signed with a poorly scribbled Thalassian script "K". Everything written on the pages is in Darnassian with poor penmanship, even if each letter looks as if it took painstakingly long to draw out.
i was summund back to Ashenvale. i dont remember the jurney ever takeing this long before.
the circles bisniss in Zangarmarsh is all ive nown for some time now. it has become somewat ruteen. feels odd to brake it. and oddly tireing.
i hav only herd of wat awates me back home. i hav not been to Azeroth since the cataklism they call it. the shatering. but as i travel i can say i dont think i hav ever herd the land and the forest cry so much since my time in the Plaguelands. it makes my hart ake and my mind weery. maybe thats why it seems to be takeing so long.
its ben hard to sleep. i cant get the sownd owt of my eers.
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The entry is written after a pair of skipped pages. Between those pages rests a charcoal portrait of herself, and a drawing of two bloodelf men. Both are signed with a scribbled Thalassian script K.
its cold here. nothing i was not used to when we livd in Dun Moro. it has just ben some time. Koryander says it will take geting used to again. i supose she is rite. ive also herd it only gets colder.
i guess as long as my nose does not fall off that i will manag. that would be unfortunat.
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sometims i wish i could do mor with a pen and paper than use it to write things that are unte inintelgibul hardly read abl.
i also wish that i could stop loosing books. there are —- pictures in there i would like to keep even tho theyre not mine. its frustrating.
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The Darnassian words are scrawled on the page at varying angles. They're disjointed, the paragraphs almost running together in places.
rivers flow. they run quickly in places slow in others but theyre never still. they are always going somwher. over rocks falls throu vallys and mountans. lakes are still. they rippel with the wind and sway with storms but they never mov from wher they are. i feel like a lake. ive lost my path. i have a purpose like a lake but i sit going no wher and having no place to go. i long to be a river agan.
i want to know mor about this quire kwire coi cult. what do they want. what is their goal. who do they follow. why.
at least Alecks knows how to properly hold a sword now.
he seems so at ease. i dont think ive seen him so happy before. i hav to say somtimes i miss his grumpy frown. miss Anarial is good for him. Kanta should be happy.
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sleep is soon to be somthing ———- foreign to me.
i have met with a warden who not only has valuble —— information but is said to be a valuble asset in other means. we do not see eye to eye and it is incredibly frustrating. making her com around is not going to be an easy task. at this point i cant afford to lose her.
if the rumurs are true we cant afford to lose anyone.
Keigan says war is unavoidable. it will happen. there is no escape. he knows what is coming. i can only hope everything he's told me will prove usful and get to Kanta in time.
Koryander told me she has consold herself to not coming back.
i dont want to hear her say it. it breaks my heart in too many ways. she will come back. she's too tuff tough to not. and i won't lose a dear frend.
—but in the end i suppos everyone leavs me— (heavily crossed out)
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This entry lays a few pages past the previous one. In between the two entries are scribbles of notes that are barely intelligible, and rushed doodles that seem to resemble maps
i was told onse to never lose faith. i suppos its somthing that i have come to live by over the years. i havent lost it. i was rewarded for it in a sense. Resheph has come back to me. i knew he would. i never lost the hope that he would. even when i was told that he mite never return.
while my heart soars with hapiness at this i can not help but feel so very very angry. maybe angry is not the word.
betrayed
Kanta lied to me. he lied to me. why. he knew. but he never told me. when i asked when i spoke of him Kanta lied to me saying he was gone. i should accept it. but he knew.
he knew.
why would he lie to me. knowing how hard it has been for me.
i am so furios. its hard to think strait at the menchon mention.
i dont understand.
what else is he hiding from me. what else is he not telling me. what else is he lying about.
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i bot a new dress today. one i have wanted for some time.
cant wear it yet. suppose i will save it for somthing special.
i feel the trip was needed brief as it were.
i have a duty and i will stand by it. i couldnt fathom abandoning it. but i cant help but feel restless stifled and contained. i need to move. but there is too much at stake right now.
or maybe i just make it seem that way. until they leave our forest i will never feel that anything has been acomplishd.
there are times when i do want to say to him lets run away. worry about no one but ourselves.
perhaps we will one day. but not now.
but for now i have a new dress. for somthing.
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Several loose pieces of paper lay in between this entry and the last. The bear several intricate, and life-like sketches, the medium varying from ink to charcoal. They're all signed with a Thalassian script "K".
i have never been good with keeping this up to date. i supose i never think to until my head gets too heavy. its a way of emptying it so to speak. and my head has indeed been heavy.
i have been reasined. both the sentinels and the templars have requested my presence in this new land. Panderia Pandaria. i will admit to getting used to the quiet that has fallen here. but i have been restless for som time. i do not know exactly what the sentinels ask of me there. however the talk of this sha of anger by my fellow templars has raisd some questions in my mind. it is unsetling and it makes me nervus.
we left early by sentinel vessel. my choice. due to resent events i did not think it was best to keep Resheph and Kanta in the same inclosed space for days out on the open sea. i may have forgiven him but i am not so sure Resheph has. it had the posiblity for disaster i supose.
or perhaps it was for the fact i have not been feeling myself. i will not lay all blame on him.
i have moments where i feel the world spin around me. i feel dizzy. it has been happening more and more freekwen frequently. even now the roking of this boat is making it worse. then again it has been sometime since i have traveld by sea.
it is perhaps not at as unsetling as a few days ago. waking up in a river with an unsmiling warden above you with her blades drawn is not very ideal. i have no memry of what ocurd.
the warden has acompanid us perhaps for this reason. i do not know if she will linger in Pandaria or return home. she keeps her plans to herself. frustrating but its just how she works.
i feel sick.
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theyre fighting again. honestly i dont care who started it. but i want them to stop. bickering. always bickering. Resheph will say something and Kanta is on him with teeth and claws like a sabre on a deer. Kanta so much as looks at Resheph and he does the same. it has not come to blows yet and by goddess i hope it doesnt. but they are trying my pashents patience more than usual. perhaps its not that bad. myabe i am over exsagerating.
ive found myself losing patience. ive been so irratable and testy. snapping at little things. i dont know why. my sowr mood has only been increasing since our first stop in kun lai. now that weve returned i can only say that its has gotten worse. i feel so tense so
angry.
the dizzy spells are happening again. i fainted the evening before we left tian. i think Sylvinas spores are wearing off.
Resheph is worried. Anarial is worried. Kanta looks at me as if he knows something i do not. they act as if there is something wrong with me. maybe there is. maybe there really is something wrong with me. but its frustrating when they talk down to me try to hold me back. its not as if im sick and dying.
i hate feeling useless. i hate feeling a burden. i hate this feeling of not knowing if or what is wrong with me. or why i'm so upset.
the warden said i was compromised. but that was over. it was over weeks ago. it shouldnt happen again.
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This entry falls a good several pages behind the last. The pages in between are covered in hastily scratched maps and several series of disjointed and unconnected streams of words and letters, some written in the familiar scrawl of her own handwriting, the other a more rigid, and crisp script. There is a doodle in one of the margins, the likeness of a certain Kanta Wildsabre making an exaggerated snarling expression with a maw of sharp teeth, also drawn by another hand.
I hate this tip toing. they all move around me as if I am some great beast that shouldnt be disturbd. as if one wrong step and I will strike. Moonglade was supposd to be an escape from this.
then again I suppose a warden in Moonglade is enough to warrent a few stares. they intinsify when she makes her rounds. and they have only just begun to wane.
even still its frustrating. I hate the weit wait weight of eyes upon me.
my wounds have healed. they were gone long ago. upon our landing in Darnassus, she brought me to an old druid she seemed to know. he repaired everything. and it seemed so effortless and calming. just something about him I suppose.
though Ive felt weary.
(There is a good line and a half marked through so dark to where the words that were printed were illegible, and there is a very fine tear in the paper itself)
why do I bother. this all so irelevent now.
I hate doing nothing.
Im going insane from bordom.
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