A/N: Important! This story was renamed. It was "I'm sorry" now it is "Paper Trail"
On with the fic
Chapter 3: Moving On:
Dear Diary,
Tomorrow Mother, Father, and I will be starting back to the Islands. I just can't stay here. But I'm worried, though I won't admit it to a soul, being Yamani starts now. I haven't been training in the Yamani style for nearly two years now, so I'll be behind. Far behind. I did keep up my exercises, but those were Tortallan, and different. I won't trick myself. I know that with such an interruption I cannot in my wildest dreams hope to become a Shang. So Mama has promised to send me back after my fifteenth birthday, giving me the fall and winter to become used to Tortall before the riders recruit in the spring. But wait, what if I'm asked, for political reasons, not to join the riders? Thinking on it, there could be trouble if it looked like they were taking "rejects". Undermining their system by acting as a beacon for anyone and everyone who wished to criticize them saying they played favorites and accepted those already proven to be unsuited to a military life is not what I had in mind. Damn it, I haven't seen Neal in near six months and I still sound as nastily suspicious as he ever was. Surely they wouldn't reject me. I need to hit something.
Kel
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To Whom It May Concern:
I, Keladry of Mindelan, plan to apply to the Riders upon reaching an acceptable age. However, the political complications are not beyond my contemplation. Therefore, if my presence will cause an excess of undue tension, please reply and I will seek a future elsewhere with no uncomfortable revelations.
Thank you for your anticipated timely reply.
Yours Respectfully,
Keladry of Mindelan
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Dear Diary,
We're on a boat on the way to the Islands. It's not like me to be this worried. But I am. I won't say so; I won't let the tears hiding behind my eyes out. I won't even pace back and forth inside my cabin, although I swear I'll go crazy if I don't move. But there, I can't do anything about it, so there's no use fretting.
At least writing things down is even a perfectly acceptable tradition in Yamen, so I have an outlet. Hiding things behind a mask, people must have at least one outlet. So here is how I feel: disappointed, enraged, homesick, lonely, vulnerable, behind, betrayed, and directionless. Disappointed because I was there, happy, doing well, I had to leave and can never go back. Enraged at Wyldon and the King, they had no right to do this do me, the law says girls can become knights. No false modesty, I know I am as good as and better than most of those boys. Homesick, I miss the palace and its comforting halls. Even if I do go back, Neal and the others, they'll have changed, I won't have spent so much time with them, so we'll never be quite so good friends, and that makes me lonely. I'm going back to a land I left over a year ago, and will be picking up training behind where I left off, and I'll be a foreigner, and friendless, easy pickings, vulnerable. The training master vowed when he became a knight to be honorable and protect the defenseless, for in this case, I needed that protection to continue on, and by breaking those vows, he betrayed me, his charge. They took away my future, my direction in life, my purpose! I did send a letter to the riders, but I shouldn't have had to! If they refuse me, I'll have no where to go and the root of the problem is Wyldon.
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To: His Most Royal Majesty, King Jonathan of Conte
From: Sir Wyldon of Cavell, Commander of Fort Blouse (A/N: private joke, sorry, couldn't resist sticking that in, pay no attention, it doesn't matter.)
As Regards: My current command
Sire, as much I regret doing so, I must request, once again, that I be released from my current position. We occupy a key position, and the country could not easily regain this keep were it to be lost. Again, as much as I regret admitting this, if attacked, we may well lose the fort. The men are demoralized beyond recovery, a situation which would be remedied by new blood, as I am the cause of this. Unfortunately, they reacted rather badly to my dismissal of the girl, and cannot respect me as leader. The men would do better under a different commander.
Yours respectfully,
Wyldon of Cavell
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A/N: -gasp- -spasm- -feint- I updated! And y'all thought I died! Well, I didn't. Anyway, I know Wyldon's bit was short, I didn't know what to do with him. So yeah…
Please review, I'm having some major problems with Wyldon's character, and Kel is coming out like Neal, help!