Journal of Cordelia, Ward of Il Modo.

[AsheandCinders]

A new chapter opens, and I'm wearing the Sultan's green and getting blessings from Wheelfolk. If only La Matrona could see me now.

I wouldn't have expected any of this a few years ago, but who knew two years is all it takes to burn down a life if you've left someone enough kindling? Even as I try to leave it all behind pieces of home keep getting sifted from the ashes. An old familiar buckler a merchant shipped in is as much a comfort as it is a burden.

But, I must look to the future. My new companions seem fine enough, and they don't pry. I doubt I'm the first to take up their colours running from something. My swordsmanship is Rusty and mostly flair but it translates well enough to an actual fight, and I think they like having a song or two to keep their spirits up.


The wellfolk are varied, but not so bad. Even the ashlings have been decent if occasionally insufferably naive or smug in the process.

I still don't know who I'm going to be here yet, but I've always known how to fix that. Explore the role, try and retry the lines until they feel right, keep reshaping yourself until you click into the part.

Just play the role until it feels real, and the weights around my neck aren't so heavy anymore.

Oh, and I got a bird. Apparently 'Kula' will reveal his name. The Sages must already be plotting my next with a vengeance by now...

[AsheandCinders]

Citizen Cordelia Ward...

It's official now, I suppose. Ephia's Well is my home. A toga and a piece of paper give a very different message than a Knife, but the principle is the same. I matter here now.

The last few days have been rocking waves, tossing and turning every which way. Singing a duet with an Ashl Ashfolk I fear I may even slowly be becoming friends with, into A Djinn explosion and face stealers, into a winning streak at the cards table and a rush I've not felt in years, Into the most chaotic warzone I've faced since I joined the Legion, Into citizenship.

Just have to stay strong, keep up the role, and try to never think about how over my head I am.

I've been drawing from when starred in a dramatic interpretation of "The Lantern's Eye", the Salty old Pilot-Priestess turned watchwoman who stuns all the Academics at the Academy when her worldly ways and street-smarts solve a case which baffles their scholarly ways. Sages be praised the Author enjoyed putting all the little reports in the footnotes, what was dull reading at the time becomes perfect fuel.

Come to think of it, that was one of the plays directly comissioned by [There is a blot, as if a pen were held above the page overlong]

The weight is still heavy around my neck. I'm not sure I'll ever be rid of it really, even if I weren't wearing the reminders. Trying to escape my past while not even being able to make myself take off the pieces of it.

But they remind me to be better, even if I've already damned my next.
I'll never forget it, but I can start anew here despite it.

He won't follow me here.

[AsheandCinders]

I've come to realize I'm not playing one role here, but many.

When writing reports, I'm Pilot Priestess Catalina from The Lantern's Eye. In battle, the flashy corsair Esme de Malia from that short lived and probably poor taste musical adaptation of March of the Lezrous. And talking to the Legates on matters of politics I take on the part of Lady Astrid D'Ambra and her silver tongue (I don't know if Sergeant Reyer ever saw that one but if not his near perfect portrayal of her brutish assistant Claudius was a wonderful coincidence, especially since he himself is so different).

I came here to try and escape my past, but even now it informs everything I do. A new stage, a new scene, but the same roles.

But now I choose who I play, I can be Cordelia in name only. I'll wear whatever mask I need at the time, and I've amassed quite the collection.

Eventually one should fit, and that will be the new Cordelia.
I hope she makes better choices than I did.