Musing as I had, on things past in recent entries. Even noting down things I wish not known out loud, but to the lost pages of this Journal. I find myself thinking of years past, opportunities lost and gains forsaken.
Of the biggest loss it was neither honour, profit, or missed chances; but that of my Daughter. Zelina.
Lost in the blink of an eye to a disease unknown barely birthed and in my hands as her eyes shut. The ring I bear upon my small finger, a band she would have grown into, linking her to I. As I carry the Raven trinket of my Mother, one day she would carry the Raven and Wolf, and her own.
Alas, such was not to be. I spoke at length with Dranur about it. Probably the only one i confide in. Stubborn as the day is long, that Dwarf and yet, no finer and unexpected friend since entering the West. Possibly, as he knew the loss of Child as I.
Still, the thought crossed my mind, well barged to the forefront of such. If I wont have strength to say her name, chronicling it in ink, Should survive an age or so.
Zelina, Eastern Star.
