1/11/368
I put the wrong year on this entry not once, but twice. The first time, I actually tried 366.
How time flies, aye? It’s been ten years now since Marisa and I wed in a flurry of celebration that overshadowed any lesser wedding Lithmore had seen during my time here – and many ostensibly greater ones, truth be told. Ten years. The cask of hippocras that Shaylei gave us to celebrate has reached its maturity. I never really thought I’d be considering broaching it under circumstances such as these. But what is there to say about it?
Knight business is in a hopeless shambles at the moment. We have so many warrants piling up, yet no hope of executing half of them given our utter lack of any actual information. Too few boots on the ground, too many cases, and too little support from every direction. We’ve been so half-alive for so long that I hardly know what to do to fix it. Just trudging onward, chipping away at the backlog however we can… never losing sight of how critical these duties are.
At least I have been lucky to enjoy excellent health this winter. I had one rather nasty bout of my illness, but only one, and my leg hasn’t bothered me at all in months now. I still have to be careful about overextending myself, but I can run a league in twenty minutes again. (If only hunting mages simply consisted of the literal -hunting- part.)
Life feels almost settled, almost routine, in a way I am grateful for. I have come to learn that these moments of peace are really all there is. There’s no point squandering them being worried about when they’ll end, when the next disaster is going to descend. Life happens in the cracks, the gaps, the spaces between.
Now if I could just figure out what to do about all these damned cases…
