Last Seed 13th - 582
I had another nightmare.
It was the same as before. I am knocked out in the Alinor tavern. I awake in chains, being dragged down the grimy stone steps. I am brought to the altar... It was my mother this time, though, not Mannimarco. Which I cannot be certain is much better or much worse.
And on top of that, I have slept ill these last few days. I am uncertain if it is the anticipation of finding Lyris, the strange accommodations, or all of the stress of dying and returning. Or perhaps it is all three.
No. It is certainly all three of these things.
And more. I know letters take time... But the longer it goes on without hearing from home, the more the worry gnaws at my mind. It is silly. It has not been enough time for my letter to have arrived, her to have sent a letter in turn, and for it to arrive. But I check the mail daily regardless.
The prophet is still figuring a means of rescuing Lyris. I know these sorts of things can be delicate, but I wish that he would hurry up. I need something to do. Something to keep my mind and hands busy.
Perhaps I should see if there is work to be had in Vukhel Guard. With the Queen here, there may be need of extra hands somewhere...
I will go in the morning. I saw Razum-dar about the last I was there, and he often has need extra hands. Perhaps I can be of use. And busy myself.
Now that I am settled, I should speak to antiquarian circle here as well. Putting feelers into the Mage's Guild would not hurt either, I think. I should cast out at every possibility. Well, almost every possibility. I still do not have any interest in becoming a part of some grand story, naturally. But perhaps I should not do that sentiment to death, or fate will elect to play a cruel joke on me.