June 5th

Ah, the crisp canvas of fresh parchment...a thousand blades caressing the bounds of their metal spiral as they beckon my fingers to soak them with their blood. Perhaps it's just as well that something wet these pages. I've wasted half a bottle of ink dipping my pen only to lean in and watch it dry as I wait in vain for inspiration to return.

Two months of this madness!

Carlaisle suggested I keep a journal for the express purpose of recording my "ordinary" thoughts and feelings, a fully separate receptacle into which I can channel whatever nonsense proceeds to drain out of the cesspool between these pointed ears as of late. He claims clearing out his mind in this manner makes room for the onset of creativity and that some of his finest compositions have come to him this way. If it's proven effective for him and his music, the same should ring true for me and my poetry, one would suppose.

I must remember to thank him for my burning, bloody fingers. Yes, this is just what my writing needed. It's coming along so much more fluidly now.

Whatever the means, I must overcome this cursed block if I am to prepare anything remotely suitable for Her Royal Highness' 16th birthday celebration just a few months from now. It shall be a milestone occasion for which His Majesty will undoubtedly harbor high expectations. Knowing Carlaisle, he's in all probability bounding between two or three different concertos in order to simply decide on a preferred melody. I'm baffled as to whose notion it was that I am capable of producing something that can adequately complement his calibre of work.

If nothing else, I must admit that there is a fundamental relief in getting all this off my chest.

And I've come to a realization. As of right now I haven't a prayer of composing lyrics befitting the princess for this occasion because, quite frankly, I know close to nothing about her. Of a surety she is lovely, but I haven't an inkling of her hopes and dreams, her favored sights and sounds and concepts, or the sources of her inspiration.

My task, then, is clear. I must take the time to get to know Her Highness better before I can even begin to move forward with this project. It should be pleasant enough. I do believe I'm actually looking forward to it.

Author's Note: Thanks for checking out my little alternate-perspective take on the BotW backstory thus far! To keep with the diary-like feel, it will be posted by the poet's individual entries rather than in chapters, though the amount of detail and dialogue will increase over time with his level of emotional investment. Also, I'll be basing this story as best I can on canon details, so if you haven't played the game yet or are still in the middle of it, consider this your major spoiler warning.

Reviews welcome and highly encouraged! Thanks so much for your support, and hope you enjoy!