The Diary of Miri Fisher, 448 H.E., Midwinter

Dear Diary,

Goddess, Dear Diary seems like an odd way to start a diary. My sister Sezynna says it's the right way to start a diary, and she's the one who gave me this to document my time in the Riders and I suppose the rest of my life. (This is her Midwinter present to me.) She keeps diaries, so I suppose she'd know how to start one.

I don't know why I'm writing in this, really. If I was Zynna, and thankfully I'm not, I would say that this is a record I'm keeping to show my children and grandchildren someday. But I'm not doing this for them, I think I'm just doing this for me and also because I'm a bit bored now.

We'll see how long this diary thing lasts.

Later

So, a bit about me, I suppose. My name, as stated above, is Miri Fisher. My family works in the sea, which I love, but I want to become a Rider more. I have black hair that is cut to my chin, green eyes that are the color of seaweed, and freckles. Really, I'm not that in love with the freckles, but what can I do, besides smear my face with creams like Zynna does? I'll live.

My family's not that large as these things go; there are four of us children. A lot of families in our village have more. There's Sezynna, Dria, Luk, and me. Luk and I are always getting into mischief, but Sezynna and Dria and I are still friends. I have mostly uncles, only one aunt. That's Ma's sister, Enna.

This year, I'm fifteen. I'm joining the Queen's Riders this year because I want to help the realm, and I can't try for my knighthood. Of course, being a Rider means I can't have a husband and children for a while, but I've no desire for any now.

I'm pretty good with a bow and a dagger, and decent with a staff (My uncle Kiv taught me). I'm horrible at hand-to-hand combat, and I can count the times I've ridden a horse on the fingers of one hand.

I still want to be a Rider, though. I'm stubborn, at least according to Da, and Ma and my uncles and aunt have all agreed.

I'm not a mage, either. I don't mind. There are all types of magic, and a fair lot confuse me. Uncle Kiv has magic with animals. He can talk to dolphins. He's told me some of his conversations with them, and quite a few involve fish.

I have to go now. It's time for supper, and since it's Midwinter there's lots of sweets to eat.

The Diary of Miri Fisher, 449 H.E., Spring

I can't believe I've found this again. I've been going through all my things to decide what to take to the palace, and I found this in the bottom of the chest I have my underthings in, under a pile of old breastbands.

That's actually rather confusing why I put this there. I wasn't hiding it, I don't think, what I wrote a few months ago is meaningless.

I'm heading off to the palace in a week for Rider training. I guess I should at least try to write some of what happens in this diary. Besides, Sezynna's been dropping hints all over the place.

I know I'm going to miss her when I leave, but for a while I'm going to be glad to get rid of her. Zynna's just been talking about boys and marriage for the last month, and Alixyndria is with child, her first. Dria's a bit of a wreck, really. She's due in a month. I think she's worried about labor and the babe dying. Zynna and I have been talking about this, and we've decided that she's nothing to worry about. Ma's a Healer, and the village midwife is a good one.

Luk's no help, though. Honestly, I think he's just making it worse, telling stories about his friends and their mothers or sisters who've died when birthing a child.

He's lucky I need to restring my bow, elsewise I might shoot him one day soon.

The Diary of Miri Fisher, 449 H.E., Spring

I'm at the palace with the Riders now, and it's huge. Our village is miniscule compared to this. I mostly am just where the Riders are, or I'd certainly get lost. They really should sell maps of the palace in the marketplace.

There are some nice people here. There's a boy, Evin, and he's joked with me a bit, and reassured me that I'm not horrible with horses. Well, it's more the ponies I think I'll have a problem with. According to Sarge, who trains us, they're bred and picked to be mean. Evin's from Player stock. He says that he's all sorts of useless talents.

There are some people here who aren't as nice as him. Selda's one, she's the type of person who needs something to complain about. When we were learning to stitch up our injuries without anything to curb the pain a few days ago, she moaned about her partner, her needle, the floor, Kuri (the teacher), and other things that I don't remember. She's nasty, like a fish with rot in its belly that makes it worthless in the market. Evin was my partner, though. He joked a lot, said he was stitching one of those samplers noble girls did. His stitches were surprisingly straight; mine were as crooked as the God of Thieves himself. But it still hurt.

All in all, being a Rider isn't that bad. I wonder how it'll be tomorrow, when the ponies come.

The Diary of Miri Fisher, 453 H.E., Autumn

Again. I'm writing in this book. Just to make a confession, you see.

You know, I'm really only writing in this when I'm bored, threatened, or feeling confessional.

Hm. I should change this to The Diary of Miri Fisher but only when she's bored, being threatened by Sezynna, or making a confession)

Anyway. I don't want to think this, let alone write it. But I should. Maybe I'll stop thinking about him if I do. (Doubtful.)

I might just have the teensiest, tiniest, most miniscule crush on someone.

And by that I mean I'm completely, utterly, totally in love with-

Ooh, Mir, who're you in love with?

Evin, get your big head and horrible handwriting out of my diary

Don't you mean the The Diary of Miri Fisher but only when she's bored, being threatened by Sezynna, or making a confession)?

You've been reading the whole time over my shoulder?

Actually, I have indeed.

I'm going to kill you, Evin Larse. You may have survived bandits, Lady Aveline's father, and the siege on Pirate's Swoop, but you are not going to survive me.

Don't mention Lady Aveline, Miri

Wait, why am I bothering writing this to you when I could be seriously injuring you RIGHT NOW?

Miri, I apologize wholeheartedly and-------------------------

Anyway, I may be in love with someone but I'm not writing this in here with Evin clutching his crotch and STILL looking over my shoulder. Goddess, he'll never learn.

You've got that right, Miri. I need to find out more about your secret thoughts.

Evin. Do you want me to kick you again?

Mithros no

Then go. Far, far, away.

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes, or you will be in excruciating pain very soon.

Fine. You don't love me, Miri. I'm off to find someone who does.

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He doesn't know how wrong he is.

Why, oh why, did I fall in love with Evin Larse?

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This is one part of two for my response to Challenge 31 on the Dove, which is to try to write in a first person dairy form. Thanks to Maya for betaing. hugs The next part is Evin's journal (he's too "manly" to call it a diary. A point which will be touched on.) Thanks for reading.