It had been more then a few years since she had actually opened the leather bound book her mother had given her so long ago. In truth, she had tossed it off into a drawer in her rooms and simply forgotten about it. Of course the war had started by then and with the training and battles, Cieara hadn't really had much time to actually hunt it down.

So, here she sat in front of a crackling fire. The hearth casting light and its welcomed warmth through out the comfortable chamber and slowly she opened it. Delicate pale hands lightly touching those pages with a reminiscent expression falling upon her Elvin features, oh, there were many memories here. Within were the girlish scrawls of complaints, comments, observations and a multitude of madcap adventures written down from when she was much younger. An amused smile bloomed upon frosted rose lips as she caught sight of a few things in her flipping.

The various crushes she had were captured in these thick vellum pages. The angst of those days, and the excitement, and even sorrows penned down in a hurried careless script. The tricks played on her brother, or those he had played on her. Notations for training danced past emerald pale eyes. Names of old childhood pets and even a few dolls had also found their place in history. All her hopes and fears, all her joys and pain washed upon the myriad of pages. Her history. Perhaps it was time she continued to catalogue again. The days seemed to speed by so fast that one might forget and something precious would be lost if not captured and cherished.

There was also a new problem that was gnawing at her. She was so very careful not to mention Veighn around her father. Now it seemed she would need to start doing the same with her brother. This latest issue caused her some consternation, as he was one of the few she frequently talked to about anything that troubled her. His recent reaction at the mere mention of the name had distressed her greatly. Cieara didn't want to upset him, or caused him concern. She didn't wish to ignite his anger further then it had been already.

She likely could speak with her mother, but Fiona was often away these days. Busy hunting for those that would bring harm down upon the family, making her not as available to discuss these curious events. Thus she now felt rather adrift. It saddened her deeply and an unusual and unsettling sensation of isolation seemed to be closing down around her. It was a heavy, heartbreaking sensation that lingered.

Taking up a silver plated pen from the table beside her, she dipped it gently into the well of ink nearby and in a hand far more mature then any previous entry, the words started to flow from the fine point nub to the heavy paper. A.C. 1754 Jerrey Geuree 13 (Year is 1754 in the time of Aeon Conversion, January 13)

I find I have no other choice but to return to you my old friend. I can nae speak with Daniel about my fears and tis sure I can nae discuss anything like this with my Father. With Daddy, the mere mention of my Leannan's name brings forth a washing of such rage it causes me to cringe. I now fear the same is occurring with my br?thair. For he too now growls and I can feel his ire sparking like a flashing star above.

I nae wish to anger either of them, for that is naught something I enjoy these days. I find I can nae in good conscious discuss things with them if it is going to upset them. Distance is already growing and I would rather not widen such a gulf, for I love them all so deeply, I nae wish to hurt them even a wee bit. So instead I shall simply avoid bring up the subject of my Leannan. Seems to be the best course at this time. So I find the only place left to try and untangle my thoughts is within this old dusty journal. A childhood friend restored. So here I am once more, sharing secrets with the pages of memory.

I am still weakened by the lingering effects of that poison that is a constant drag upon my senses. It makes it harder for me in many ways. I find my thoughts are often scattered and I become easily weary these days. Even Veighn's attempts to aid me past it, often leaves me feeling worn out and exhausted. Tis sure he is nae pleased with my learning of magics. I am nae doing well at all with the instruction, and even my reaction time is nae as it should be. I end up bruised and frustrated I think I shall simply tell him such will need to wait until I am recovered.

Tis sure I am he will nae be happy about such a request. It seems these days his mood is more capricious then usual. Even the smallest things seem to set him off. He has nae ever directed his wrath towards me of course. Tis a curious thing but with me, he is almost strangely gentle. Aye he seeks to push as that is his way, but he is oft quick to relent to mine own desires when pressed.

With others however, the rage explodes forth without any restraint. The mildest of things seems to set him off like dry tender in a lightening storm. I nae know why and from my query of him, tis apparent he is nae sure about what be causing this. In fact he becomes quite irate and rather waspish when questioned.

Just last evening he became enraged with one unknown woman. The vitriol that fell from his lips was shocking to say the least. It nae was just the words of obvious hate that flowed but he then very nearly flung a table at the female. It took all I had within me, even the small reserve I have been carrying to calm him. The table nae did take flight but it was still damaged. A goodly portion was snapped as if thin as a small dry twig under his hands with little effort at all.

I did notice a vast amount of energy leaking from him. I dared not touch it. In my presently weakened state, that concentrated energy might be harmful. This I sense quite clearly. Would be rather like trying to capture a bolt shot from the sky. So much was pouring from him in fact; I suspect that had I drawn in some of it, he likely would have nae even noticed. Such a thing in itself is such a rarity. Often he holds a certain zealous greed regarding him self and that which he carries. I am always careful when tapping into that energy for it is potent but I am also certain this seepage of such an essence is nae at all normal.

I nae have any idea what can be done to aid him in this. My knowledge regarding such matters is nae the best. Tis one of the reasons why I did agree to being instructed as I have actually come to realize that perhaps at the very least having some understanding of such arts may be useful.

I may never reach the skill of those such as my mother, or Sorcha. Tis certain I shall nae ever be as effective in such abilities as Veighn. Yet, I do believe that if I can at least understand how such things work, I can offer some insight when needed.

In the situation I face now, I feel useless in regard to what is the cause. Such a thing does concern me greatly for I do love him and fear this may do harm to him somehow. I would like to keep him from such potential damage, but I nae know how.

All I can do is seek to calm him in times we are together. Perhaps to offer him small respites of peace with a touch. My fear in this now is that his rages will become harder for me to soothe. This cursed weakness invading me now is certainly a hindrance to such things as well. My energy levels drop so swiftly and I can nae hold much long. Tis sad to admit, but prior to that shelgeyr kione's attack, I would nae be fretting so. I could carry plenty of power to alleviate such fury with a look. Now, tis nae at all as it should be. Tis a fight to keep what I can and often I can feel what little I can manage slipping away like an illusive wind through my fingers.

In truth hearing about Tara's complete recovery, I am tempted to seek the same aid from The Uncle. Even though I know such a favor would likely come with a very steep price. Tis only that which restrains me from seeking such relief, nae to mention the uproar such a thing would likely cause from those I love. Tis sure my parents would be upset if I did such a thing and I suspect Veighn would nae be at all pleased about it either. Oh well. It was but a passing thought anyway.

I can but hope tomorrow is better.

Cieara Tossing a light coating of fine sand over the page to prevent smears she quietly closed the book. Delicate, pale fingers pressed it gently and then rose to place it into a drawer next to her bed and out of sight of curious eyes. None would dare read it. So the thoughts placed within would be held private.

The curious thing was having written down some concerns currently occupying her thoughts, seemed have helped her a bit. Usually she would have talked to her brother, but she feared that would no longer be an option. That did bring forth a wave of melancholy, but some of the weight she had felt pressing upon her had eased at least. It was better then nothing.