Dear diary,
It’s been a week since we returned from the twisted halls of Neverhold, and for the first time in what feels like forever, life has slowed down enough to let me breathe. No monsters, no magic duels, no scheming nobles or cryptic hags. Just... home. And gods, I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.
Most of my days have been spent making up for lost time in the village—checking in on people, listening to grievances big and small, ensuring everyone feels seen and heard. It’s a duty I chose, and one I’ve been neglecting for too long. Thankfully, nothing catastrophic happened while we were away. A few broken fences, a squabble over livestock, but nothing that couldn't be soothed with a calm word and a patient ear. It feels good to be useful in this quiet, honest way.
I also made time to visit Rachnar—my favorite drinking partner and one of the few people in this world who doesn’t expect me to be anything more than myself. We laughed, swapped stories, and for a moment, I forgot about cursed tournaments and Feywild politics.
Of course, the dagger didn’t let me rest for long. I’ve been working to unravel more of its secrets, and I finally uncovered the next step: an offering at a shrine to Sister Willow. Predictably, it's something I would have done anyway. Fortunately, we already know of a shrine not far from Keralon—familiar ground, if not entirely safe.
I then performed a ritual to reach Sister Willow herself. I hoped for clarity. I got... something close. As always, her answers were riddles more than truths. Still, I learned enough. She told me I could trust Rootskewer—something I’d suspected but needed to hear. As for the temple… she warned me to tread carefully. It’s dangerous, and not just in the obvious ways. My plan to free her from whatever binds her will have to wait. She doesn’t want that. Not yet.
One morning, I gathered everyone—not just to tell them about my trip to the shrine, but to steer them away from something far more delicate. Dynia.
For reasons I couldn’t fully explain—not without unraveling things that must remain hidden—I asked them to drop the investigation into the charm protecting her. I could feel the questions bubbling up behind their eyes, especially from Gael. But somehow, I convinced them. I told them it was for Dynia’s safety. That it was in all of our best interests to leave the charm alone, at least for now.
And they listened.
For now, that’s enough.
On the evening of the third of Mannan, we made our way to Elsa and Thalian’s estate for dinner. It had all the makings of a social trap wrapped in silverware and polite smiles—and that was before Luke decided to bring Lumiria along.
As expected, the moment we stepped inside, the air turned heavy with unspoken words. Every glance between Luke and Elsa pulsed with the kind of history that doesn’t need to be said aloud—eyes lingering a moment too long, silences stretching just a little too far. Blushes. Awkward laughter. The kind of small talk that desperately tries to cover a chasm.
Thankfully, Alistan, ever the conversational tactician, redirected us. He guided the talk toward Thalian’s family—rich merchants who had apparently used their coin to climb their way into nobility. It’s always the same story, isn’t it? If you have enough gold, doors swing open, titles change hands, and suddenly you're dining with kings. Not that I blamed Thalian for it. He seemed more practical than prideful.
The subject of the upcoming wedding came up too. The date’s been set for next summer, and of course, we’re all invited. In the same breath—like it was the most natural thing in the world—Thalian casually offered up some of his siblings for Alistan and Liliana to marry. I could almost hear the gears turning behind the offer, alliances being weighed like market goods. But both of them shut that down swiftly—Alistan with his usual calm dignity, and Liliana with a firm but polite refusal. “We’re spoken for,” they said, and left it at that.
Later, as we walked back under the darkening sky, I reached for Liliana’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I know how much pressure her family puts on her, how quickly they’d leap at the chance to marry her into a noble house, especially one dripping in coin. But tonight, she didn’t cave. Tonight, she chose herself. And that… that meant everything.