6/17/367
Why? Why do I continue to exist? Why do I continue to fight against all odds? I have no family anymore, my own brother has forgotten me through means I am not aware of. I have no faith that the mages of Lithmore will be able to put aside their distrust of each other, and with that my hopes of seeing the manus reborn have dispersed on the wind. Even with this body and the pain I have endured, I question why I bothered. Was that pain worth this emptiness? Was feeling like flesh was being boiled from my bones, only to be glued back on by some unseen makers hands worth it? What do I intend to do with this life I have? I mean surely I could seek revenge against those who wronged me, but that doesn’t fill me with the same glee it once did, the same… eagerness to see the pain upon their faces. Even my favorite past time of pranks don’t fill me with joy. Furthering my knowledge of the Arcane and in turn increasing my own power used to send shivers through my body, but now there is nothing.
What good is a mage without their motivation? Their goal? Their desires? What reason do they have to endure such risk by simply existing if there is nothing they are aiming for, no light at the end of the tunnel?
Some say age matures a person, and what they enjoyed while young they no longer find enjoyment in as they grow older. I used to give this no merit, I used to believe I’d always be that devious, daring, and cruel little Tubori girl I always had been. That I would always find joy in the misery of others, that power would fill that void in my being. But I see now that that isn’t the case. Maybe it was because of how young I was when I was awakened… gosh has it actually been 8 years now? 8 years since I was given the greatest gift any ten year old could receive from a loved one. I’ve outlived so many of the mages I’ve met since being in Lithmore. Maybe I outlived them because even though I was cocky, I never abused my power in such a way that it exposed me, never made some grand show of my magic to boost my own ego. Sure stealing the chalice served no purpose than to do something that hadn’t been done, to leave my own little mark in the history books, and damn that chalice did look good when the sunlight hit it just right.
I should not dwell on my past, but instead try and find a new reason to live, something that will drive me for years to come, something that will make me want to stand and fight for my life.