* * *
Jax
* * *

We're hacking through the undergrowth in the woods around the big castle here when Gerude tells us all that we shouldn't be hacking through it with the particular method that we're using now. He phrases it in a pretty creative way, though:

"YEEEAAAUUUUGH!!!"

I think pretty much anybody could understand that.

I didn't know you could shoot a tree dead, but I guess Arms can shoot anything dead. Kennit and Caerig manage to put three holes through the trunk of the tree that Gerude seems to be having a problem with before I realize that it was already dead-looking before he shot it. It's then that I notice that the trees in these woods are moving, but the air is stale and still. There's no breeze to make those limbs creak, so why are they--

* * *
Sy
* * *

Elete settles into his quarters, and to my surprise, goes to sleep. I suppose he wasn't understating things when he said he could use some rest. His ailments are beginning to trouble me...

But then, we already know they're going to kill him, don't we?

I try to tell myself that he's let me know it's inevitable so that I don't waste my resources on saving him and instead can focus my efforts on what's important. He's even said outright that there will be a Poet King to replace him. One of his Poets, then? That's a daunting thought. Some of them, even I will admit, are quite capable - but no one has that sense about them of... of knowing. That complete, almost undoubtable authority. Most of all, he engenders trust in everyone... even myself.

How do we begin to replace that? We never sought him in the first place. He called us, and we gave him a position for being, well... Elete.

* * *
Katherine
* * *

To mock a great opening line, picture this: Gerald standing in front of me, happy all over his beaming, punchable face, hands on his hips, the very picture of a heroic retard.

"Okay, Katherine, I forgive you."

"I... okay wait, what?" I swear, that was so out of nowhere that I can't figure out a way to kick him for it. "Will you just get out of the way? I need to go see the Judge."

"Oh, Daddy's not in his office. Come on, let's go talk." Gerald grabs my hand. I jerk it away.

* * *
Recorded from an excerpt of Jhe h'Akribastes's Travel Log
* * *

There is, on the floor in front of me, a bound Emperor. My long-lost son is recovering from enduring servitude to that Emperor, and the complete list of acts he has had to endure or participate in has yet to be made apparent to me. I worry more about Lyric's mental well-being than his guilt. Gerald seems fine, but has his share of stories to tell me. Cade has been bound similarly to the Peacock King, by Jhe Camden. Who, incidentally, has a lot of talking to do. There are freed slaves all around and I've no idea what to do with them. There is a wronged, angry animism stalking about as if he were a housecat whose tail had just met the wrong end of a rocking chair.

* * *
Recorded from an excerpt of Apprentice Armed Rachella Hawksgard's Travel Log
* * *

I know something is wrong at dawn, and I don't even have to ask Jenny if she feels the same. I can feel it coming off of her, and even if that isn't enough, the tension in her poise and the fire in her eyes are dead giveaways. Something is afoot this morning. We're going to see action soon.

The blood thunders in my ears for a few moments from the rush of it. I'm just a trainee, after all. Jenny's earned her Arms, though she's not allowed to carry them publicly yet. If it comes down to us drawing...

No, I'll find some way of fighting. I've been trained. I can handle this.

She leads us out to the yard outside the Mews. We've been watched for awhile here. It puts Jenny on edge. Me...well, I think I know why we're being watched.

* * *
Recorded from an excerpt of Journeywoman Jennelcia Akribastes's Travel Log
* * *

Jax doesn't know when the first strike hits. He sees blood, yes. He sees it fly through the air, even tracks the trajectory from his cheek, idly notes its descent to the ground. He doesn't mark the first strike. For him, it doesn't happen. it's only an event that's noted after the fact, like a diary missive, an object passed on the road.

He lost skin from that blow. Camden's whip is always greedy when it comes to skin. That moreso than blood, truth be told. I consider that wise of him. A man can make more blood much quicker than he can make more skin for himself. I've witnessed, after all, just how fast that can grow back.

...Writing this, I realize I've shifted into telling it directly from Ebrellin-i's tongue instead of adapting it as I'm used to. It's strange writing directly from his voice, and...I feel a little weird afterwards. Maybe I can ask Rachella about it. I'm not sure if I want to show her and Camden this, though. Not the prior writings, at least, and what I've yet to record of the Peacock King's words to me. I...

...I just don't want to get him in trouble for the children. Other things I know he's guilty of, and I can't say he doesn't deserve punishment, but...well, it's not my place to say what the Law is. It's my Father's place, and I feel very uncomfortable putting my feet anywhere near those shoes. If I had the choice, though, I wouldn't tell a soul about the children.

Rachella's falcon bursts up into the sky in a flurry of feathers and talons. She looks up wistfully after it, then turns to follow our group as we march up the hill behind the King.

"She's a good bird." She sounds so sad about it. "I'll miss her."

I look askance at her, then see Camden looking back to give her a look of reproach. Rachella composes herself before the King notices. I keep walking ahead and don't call attention to it.

Marching up the hill is strange for us. It seems like we should be approaching a peaceful place, but Camden and Rachella are increasingly on edge. The surroundings are benign enough - lush green grass on the hillside, the occasional young oak tree, large rocks here and there. It's strange, though - I don't hear any birds calling out here. At this time of morning I expect that.

Peace is nice. I feel it surround me and cushion me for a long time before I fade in to where I expected to appear in my dreams. Gerald looks up as I'm still settling in.

He looks so afraid that I almost drop to the floor. I think he realizes that, because he tries to stifle it as soon as it registers on him that it's showing so badly.

* * *
Recorded from an excerpt of Poet and Apprentice Armed Rachella Dovetail's Travel Log
* * *

Seeing the Peacock King's country as we have is such a rare opportunity. I never thought I'd have the chance before I started training for Arms. These days it seems like I'm traveling just about everywhere with Mister Camden. It's very exciting! As always Mister Camden makes me a little nervous, but that's probably true for everyone he interacts with. Except maybe girlfriends. Well, I don't know. If I was Camden's girlfriend, I would be very nervous. But I don't really want to think about that.

Tambor'in and I are learning together, it seems. It's like she changes every day, grows every day, even though we both stay so small. Often falconers let loose their birds and adopt another every few years, but I'm beginning to wonder if she and I will work together for longer than that. Camden says it should be decided by what the bird wants, and I agree with that.