Spring 1378 AF
I've told you the appearance of all my siblings, but not myself. I'll tell you now, so you know what I look like, at least. I'm small, with an oval face and large, dark eyes. My hair is black, the color of a moonless midnight sky, long, thick and wavy. I'm not allowed to cut it. Not that I would want to. It is my only real beauty. My face is too narrow, my eyes too large, my nose too strong, my mouth too small, my chin too rounded, and my cheekbones too high. I look rather like a gypsy, or a traveling trader.
My nastier siblings claim that I must be the daughter of a traveling trader, and not my father at all. But as I said yesterday, Mother was too frightened of our father to be unfaithful to him. You see, our father beats us. For any little mistake. He's...very harsh, and demands perfection. When he doesn't get it, he beats us. I've learned to stay out of his way, and to keep Sammy and Kally out of his way as well. Justien tries to protect us, but sometimes gets beaten for his pains. It's Laia, though, who defies him the most and is beaten the most. Not hard, for our father doesn't want to ruin her beauty, but beaten nonetheless. Lerali's so brainless and beautiful she is not beaten at all. Thom must have felt our father's hand at some time in his life, but not recently. Not now that he's our father's heir and puppet. I'm luckier then most of my siblings, as my dark hair and complexion lets me fade into the shadows.
I would be beaten very badly if this diary is ever found.
Spring 1378 AF
Looking back at my opinions, I'm certain you're wondering how I mananged not to get beaten for them. I have been, but that was before I learned to keep my emotions hidden. I feel very deeply, sometimes, but I'm very good at not showing my feelings. So good that I'm not sure I can show them anymore. And yet...and yet...sometimes I wish I could show them.
That's one of my fondest dreams. Another is to be a Herald. It won't ever happen. I know this, just as I know that Thom will be a lord, Laia a Herald, Lerali someone's pampered lady, Justien a scholar. It's my fate to be a lady. But oh, how I wish I could be a Herald! I'm just not good enough, though.
You see, I get angry sometimes. Very angry. So angry it frightens me. I want to destroy things when I get that angry. That anger is why I know I won't ever be Chosen. Heralds do not get that angry.