Word has arrived from Libistine that the princess' mother is unwell, and monks predict her time is fast approaching. Princess Orianka has requested leave from the palace to stay by her mother's side till the end, which also determines that as her guard, I shall have to follow.

Once again, Cath has approved of the move, though I see hidden sadness in her eyes. It has been a month now since I had begun a full-term of guard duty, and have rarely been home to visit both she and Gwes... Gwes who is now able to stand on two feet. Such pain surges within my heart that I had missed so much for the sake of duty. My heart is often torn in two places, one with my family whom I love and miss dearly, and another with newfound compassion for the princess' plight:

Following that night by which I had spoken of previously, Prince Macsen had arrived twice more to her quarters and found me there, waiting. Slipping back into the shadows like the wretch of a man I have come to see him as, he has backed down and ended his attempts entirely. The satisfaction that rewards me of having kept the princess safe is enough gratification, even though she showers me with much praise over a matter we do not mention, and yet understand in secrecy.

I have come to appreciate the timing of the sorrowful news to be one that might help the princess gain respite over the past events, and to be united once more with her family that she has missed. Nonetheless, I know it worries her much to receive such news. And we make plans for a swift departure following the morning light. I have brought my trusty saber, and a dagger within my boot for the moments that call for it. Along with us, three other men under my care that I shall strategically position during our journey to prevent attacks from bandits in the woods... some of which we commonly hear of that rob peasants of more than their gold, but also their lives.

This shall be my first journey out of Troi, and excitement fills my soul that I can barely withhold despite the grimness of our quest. I shall endeavour to write more of our journey, and stay in the nation of Libistine when we arrive.

~ A poet departing his hometown
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Libistine is a beauteous gem, fit in the valley of the Angora region, not far from Cavalon. Draped in myraid colours, its painted thatched roofs, mud walls of red sand, and citizens accessorized with multi-hued beads, the poet in me leaps within my soul to lay my eyes on such an outpouring of creativity and expression through colours.

The Libistinians are warm folk, the average man, woman and child on the street award me with bubbly smiles even though I am but a foreigner in this land. And though we had intended to keep Princess Orianka's return under wraps, those who had recognized the chariot as of Troican origin had instantly cried out her name in the streets, and bowed their heads to the ground. Perhaps they had been expecting her return all this while. After all, it would be only right that a daughter returns to her mother if she is unwell, even if she is a princess bethrothed to an Emperor of another nation.

The journey here was surprisingly smooth, thanks to the three men at my side; Grandar, a great warrior who wields an axe, and an armour-plated Troican shield upon his breast. Imposing at a glance, but soft at heart. Baldour, a spirited fighter with a blade as sharp as his tongue. He claims to be named the best fighter in the Troican Academy the year he graduated - a fact that might never be proven. Fiblean, a quiet man who wields a hammer, while at most times, keeps to himself in solitude. Grandar, who has known him since their academic days, says that he is a spiritual man, and appreciates his daily prayers to Bathazaar. Perhaps it is through his prayers that we have arrived safely without an unneccessary battle in the field. We might, however, require more than prayers to heal the mother of our princess, Empress Suznet.

Today we sat all day in the hall of the Libistinian palace, awaiting news from the princess of the welfare of her mother, only to be met by tearful eyes, and a downcast monk who reported Empress Suznet was sufferring from an illness commonly known to be fatal. There would be no hope for the woman, only that her daughter continue to stay till her last days, for this is what she has wished for. And we, her guards, shall stay by her side till the hour comes.

Meanwhile we are housed within the palace walls, in royal suites that surround the princess' own, and treated like dukes of the land. It is much more than we deserve, and I, for one, am overwhelmed with the Libistinians' hospitality. Perhaps it was a little slice of Libistinian culture that we've been embracing of the princess in Troi, an infectious quality of goodness and compassion.

For now, I look forward to the weeks ahead that I may spend in this great city, even while a portion of my heart lingers back home.

~ A poet far away

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It was the night of the fifth day of the third week, and my duty to guard the princess' quarters. I did so at her door, my saber hoisted around my waist, dagger within my boots, and a keen eye on the surroundings, might some perpetrator decide to emerge from the darkness. But it was more than a perpetrator I did encounter that night. Perhaps if the night was any less still I would not have heard the tender sobs that emerged from the princess' quarters. I plodded upon her door while echoes filled the hall, and her sobbing stopped.

"Your duty is done," said she, "Do leave me in peace." It was then that I suspected something was amiss. Perhaps it was not merely her words that put me on alert, but the tone of voice that seemed strange at the time. I sought her for her welfare, and she pushed me away once more, "I am doing fine Rheged. Leave me in peace. Be with the others." And once again an uneasy feeling rushed over my physical frame, as there was something horribly strange about her tone.

I must express how I am not one to defy orders, especially not orders given by Troi's most hailed princess. But at that moment, something tugged within me... something that detected urgency about the matter. And I barged through the princess' door, catching her by surprise, and just before the execution of a most regrettable act. Within the hands of the princess sat a large metallic bowl of boiling water. Her eyes were wide... watching me silently... reddened by tears, running streams down her cheeks. For eternity within a moment, we gazed at each other wordlessly. Then she shut her eyes of emerald, and tilted the steaming liquid down her throat.

I knew then my duty had finally arrived - one where I had sworn allegience to protect the princess from all who threatened it. Little did I know that the one who managed to come closest would be she. With four large steps, I made contact with her slim frame and brought her to the ground, making sure I was wrapped around her tightly so that the scorching liquid in its container would not harm her. Instead, my back was doused with a horrid sensation, my skin prickling deeply by the intrusion, even while I held onto her tightly as we came upon the floor. I could do little but to utter a cry of despair - though thoughts wandered to the unthinkable if the princess had indeed succeeded, what would've become of her?

The strength in my hands were weakening, even as the skin on my back wrinkled in agony. With my arm still strapped around the princess, I finally took a glance into her eyes... a sea of emerald green, gazing back at me. Never before had I borne this close a proximity to her highness, and the very feeling was invigoration. Like nothing I've ever felt before.

Instantly all thoughts of a prickling back and an attempt on a life faded away to oblivion. All I knew then was the world I was transported to, and how I was drawn to it... how every pore of my being felt knitted to her presence, intoxicated by her scent. Quite unfamiliar with the sensation, I had little wisdom enough to reign in my innate senses before I found my lips sharing an embrace with hers. Everything in my mind screamed the error of my action. But already my pulsating heart had taken over - and deeper did we allow emotions to run - my fingers running down her slender frame, and hers caressing my face. Perhaps battling my emotions has been the toughest battle I have ever fought, for my mind wandered back to Cath and Gwes... and I hated myself then. I hated myself for forgetting home... for betraying their trust.

I withdrew myself from her embrace finally, while the pain returned to my conscious, drawing in my brows in a tight knit. But I pushed through the pain for there was something I had to know... "Why?" I asked, "Why attempt to take your life?"

Her gaze softened, and turned away, "I had to... I had to kill it. I had to kill the baby..."

The last word she spoke resonated with the tremors of the truth, its recognition tracing every fibre of my being even as my hand slipped from her side. The princess is pregnant... undoubtedly with the child of Prince Macsen's.

~ The poet who is burdened

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The Empress' hour had come upon a mournful Libistine. She is the fourth in her line of royalty, succeeded by her one and only living offspring, Princess Orianka. If Orianka had been married to a Libistinian, she would have been the next in line to the throne. However, having made the sacrifice to be married to Emperor Ghalin of Troi, she has had given up her rights to the throne. In her place is the only other member of the Amira household to receive the crown; the offspring of Empress' Suznet's only son, Prince Braydon Amira, who had perished years before when the Ferrat plague infested the land.

Named Talia at her birth, the daughter of Prince Braydon was born a child prodigy. And for that reason, she had been invited to the Barimon Estate as a child to learn the arts of the mesmers.

The Barimon Estate, a hidden residence in the distant west, is famed for being inhabited by a group of elite practitioners of the art. They only receive students who own any of three qualities: noble-blood, outstanding mesmer potentials or high intellect. Talia had shown qualifications in two of the three, and thus had received a special honourary invitation. Prince Braydon felt the offer too great to refuse, and sent his daughter away at her young age.

Unfortuately, his decision had eventually worked against him for word travels slowly over such distances. And when the prince had fallen deathly ill, his final wish to see his daughter before his passing could not be satisfied for the princess could only manage to arrive two days after her father had passed.

Therefore to prevent such an unfortunate event from repeating itself, word had been sent as early the moment that Empress' health had began to fade.

Princess Talia arrived a few days before the passing of her grandmother. An adolescent of thirteen years, a stranger to her own nation, one that she would inherit to rule before her time. Tomorrow she will be crowned Empress of Libistine, and with that her studies in the Barimon Estate will end prematurely as her duties to her country will take precedence. Such news does not come in good favour with the princess, as she is afraid and feels unprepared for the responsibilities that ensue. Orianka and Rita (Talia's mother) have spent hours in her chambers to calm the girl. I have last heard that they seem to be making some progress, excellent news to say the least!

Right now, Libistine is a bustle with activity as its people prepare for the great celebrations to come tomorrow. With tinsels spread over coloured lines dangling over the city underneath candles the height of a man, and sequins sewn onto cloth-like structures built to give the appearance of giant turtles that are to be donned by several dancers, one can just imagine the sight when the festivities come to life.

Along with the recent festivities, an old friend of Princess Orianka's has arrived to witness the ascension to the throne. She is a warrior who hails from the land of Cantha who had shared several adventures with the princess on her last visit. Her name is Katsune Morrianne. The details are sketchy as I have not had much time to speak to the princess nor had the opportunity to speak to Katsune myself. The princess refers to her adoringly as "sister" - they appear to share a bond that I have never witnessed the princess share with any other, and the princess seems overly delighted at Katsune's arrival.

It pleases me through it all that I have finally seen her smile. A well-deserved moment of happiness - for since the arrival of Prince Macsen in Troi, the fates have been unkind to the princess as the gods have been merciless in their plans.

Admist the celebrations, while the princess must remain a public figure till her niece is crowned, no one besides myself and you, my journal, shall hear of the attempt she has had taken on her own life, nor the child that grows within her womb. I know not yet how we shall be able to hide the secret from the world, but I shall strive to my greatest ability to defend the princess' honour and to protect both herself and her child till at such time that I am unable to do so.

~ The poet admist great changes

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Talia Amira, a mere child of fourteen... and the new crowned empress of Libistine. It is a heavy responsibility for one so young to bear, and yet she is strong, stronger than most of her peers. In a way, she reminds me of Orianka... although Talia bears not her aunt's gentle and undemanding spirit. Instead she is outspoken about her principles, persuasive with her people, and a hint of perfectionism drives her to details with those she works with.

She is still met with some mixed feelings about taking orders from one so young. Nonetheless, her boldness has been surprising. She has taken to her duty very passionately. It would appear that Libistine is beginning to gain a positive heritage of women successors to the throne. And we have great hopes for the child to grow into a wise leader for her nation.

We would wish to remain at her side and watch her highness bloom. However, signs of Orianka's ill-gotten pregnancy has begun to show more clearly. It is a secret that few have come to know of... Rita, myself, and Katsune, who had discovered the secret entirely by observation of Orianka's change in mannerisms. She is a sharp lady indeed, and perhaps may be the one who understands Orianka the best. Katsune is also the only person who has displayed any amount of positivity about the foetus in her womb; citing how this child bears the bloodline of both Libistinian and Troican royalty, and may present a permanent end to war between both nations. This child represents the union within one soul Orianka had hoped for during her marriage to Ghalin, although fate would have it that she never actually had a child with Ghalin.

But surely now is not the time to expose the identity of the father to the world, for it would surely invoke the wrath of either nation when peace remains dangling on a single thread. And I would wish not for any harm to be inflicted on the princess, if there are factions within Troi and Libistine who stop at nothing to silence a child consumated by a dark union to rise to power someday and rule them all.

We had decided that the only way possible to maintain this veil of secrecy is for Orianka to hide away in the Angora Woods, with a friend of Rita's. The woman we seek is a widow who lives alone in a cottage at the edge of the forest, and is in the business of housing folk who do not want to be found. We are told that her name is Gloricesa, although we are not to repeat her name to another soul. Not even the people we trust most. It has also been reported to both Libistine and Troi that Princess Orianka is to visit her birthplace for a few months during a period of mourning following the death of her mother... a convenient lie to blot us out of suspicion.

What disturbs me the most is the need to lie to Cath and Gwes... my son, my dear son whom I have not seen in two long months now, and shall not see for another seven. How shall I survive without them, I cannot bear the thought. Already I feel my heart drifting further... further than I would like to. I had shared an intimate moment with the princess when I let my guard slip... I hate myself for it. I hate that I am not strong enough, when I had once pledged never to allow my heart take precedence before my head, especially when it concerns the princess. I find a conflict within myself, daily. Though I attempt not show it on the exterior, my heart still races at the sight of her, and I find in her eyes the memory of that single moment that changed our relationship somewhat.

Despite what we have grown to feel for each other, my duty still remains first and foremost, a guard to her princess. I shall continue to guard her to the Angora Woods. And I shall be alone in my duty, given the weight of the secrecy. I had dismissed Grandar and Baldour, who had served well by my side. They could not understand why the princess would not need extra help on her journey to her birthplace, but I am glad that they had followed my orders nonetheless.

Katsune is also slated to leave tomorrow, for she has mentioned a duty lingering in the balance that she wishes to carry through. I see much sadness in her eyes, even though I do not know the woman much. I suspect that her trip to Libistine was not merely to herald Libistine's new Empress, but to flee her hometown. It is a subject that she wishes not to mention, and I shall not prod. She has been a great help, and comfort to the princess, and for that, we are forever grateful.

May the gods continue to be by her side as she travels to distant worlds, and guard her soul as well as she has guarded Orianka's secret. Till we next meet...

~ The poet and farewells