Journal Ruminations

[Kristen Pirian]

RUMINATIONS​

I am troubled by an idea which threatens to shatter my whole world.

This idea, a black thought born from a mire of malice and despair, is far from having true credence. Yet it persists. And it persists because I know, deeply, that the pristine faith I once held has sustained scar after scar. Only now do I see them, only now do I notice them.

The idea which troubles me is this: that Vel Anir, the Republic, my country and homeland, may not be what I think it is. That it may not be worthy of my belief in it.

I write this even as I fight a war on my country's behalf. Within this locked journal, an item I acquired at significant expense, I feel that, if I cannot speak these ruminations of mine aloud into the world, then with pen and parchment I can contend with them. I must interrogate this idea to the fullest, for the very course of my life depends upon it. Raw shall be my thoughts, written in times of haste and in times of slowness. No rhetoric fit for publishing, these pages sealed by latch and key. But useful, nonetheless, to my inquiry, as I shall have a record, ever increasing, and through ink shall my thoughts be, if not organized, then at least collected.

In this way, I hope to produce an aid to my conclusion. I see this endeavor ending in one of two ways:

Either I will burn this book, for its contents will have served their purpose, and the Republic, Vel Anir, my homeland, will be vindicated, and I may live in peace, even if an imperfect peace—for no country on Arethil is wholly without blemish.

Or I will keep this book until my dying day, for it will be the marker and the reminder of the moment when I, with the truth discerned, faced no other option but to do what is right.

I cannot fight for something I do not believe in.

This is the unshakeable truth from which I shall begin.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

AFFIRMATION​

Time to chronicle my thoughts has proven more elusive than I originally anticipated. I pray that none escape from my mind before my pen can capture them.

However, before I proceed in earnest, I feel I must first make an affirmation of my beliefs at present. This shall serve as the foundation, and at the end of this lengthy endeavor, I will be able to look back upon this preamble and see if this foundation has proven sound or if this foundation has proven faulty. Perhaps I will in the future be reading my own words here, and in the comparison feel them to be nothing more than a spasm of doubt. Or I shall look back upon them in wonder at how I could have been so naive.

So here is my affirmation, as simply as I can state it:

I love Vel Anir.​

This land of Aniria is my home, and upon this soil is everything that I hold dear, my family and my kindred people and all else. This is the country in which I grew up, and from my earliest memory till now, hunkered as I am beside a fire on a cold night in the midst of war, this love of mine has endured. Its pristine quality has faded, yes, but to retain such a quality now would be a relic of childhood, for to mature means one must come to terms with the imperfection of Arethil. No country is without blemish, no person without flaw. I believe that though Vel Anir ailed greatly at the end of the Rule of Houses, the Revolution came as the remedy. Much was healed, but there is still healing yet to be done. Our overall course, and our Anirian spirit, remains one to be admired. We are a good people.

I write this knowing full well of Garron Banick, who is the cause of my inspiration to keep this journal, and full well of Bull, who swiftly disabused me of my once pristine (and childish) notion of Dreadlords upon my arrival to the Academy. These are but two of many names I could write. All of them are foul men, and foul women. But they, nevertheless, are Anirians too. But they are wounds of Aniria's body, not its beating heart.

It is imperative as well, while this thought seizes me, to declare that I am not loyal to the Republic solely for reason of its being a republic. The form of government matters not, but only its beneficence to the governed. If it were that the restoration of the Monarchy would be of the greatest benefit to Anirians, then I would support it instead. A good king is in all ways superior to a Parliament full of villains. Voting is a futile effort if misery is pitted against misery. I pray that this never becomes so in Vel Anir.

House Pirian, my family, supports the Republic for what it represents—as do I. Brighter days ahead. But these early years, I acknowledge, are the most crucial. The Republic is at its most vulnerable here. Either it will succeed in the vision held by House Pirian and many others besides, or it will slide back into the old way, guided by the subtle machinations of men like Garron.

When the Republic and the Guard attests that it does what it does for the good of the Anirian people, I believe them. I see no true cause yet to accuse this claim of being a veneer of goodness to cover a black heart of wickedness.

I see this as my mission here.

To discover if this heart is indeed black and rotten, as my worst fears might persuade me to think.

Or if it is red and vibrant and beats with renewed vigor, as I sincerely believe.