Ponderings of a Closet Poet: Shayden's log

A tan colored book, bound in a waterproof skin. Its filled with loose pieces of paper, with twisting and swirling penmanship as well as other notes and half written songs or poems.

I had a dream this night, it was of a castle far from here made of stone and earth and it appeared that there was fire coming forth from the watch towers, spilling onto the land below and all the villages began to burn...

But a woman on a mountain, her skin was so fair and her eyes a color I could never describe if I lived to time indefinite... She looked down on the fire and the men and women and children burning and she began to weep great big tears of sorrow and the fell upon the people and the towers and all the fire was put out... But she wept and wept until she began to crack, and then the pale lady shattered into hundreds of shards of perfect ice...

Ve'ton says my dreams are nothing but the ravings of madness, and perhaps he is right.. but I cannot help but be haunted by the images of my dreams... I feel something is coming...

Today, my uncle came to Riverhold. He rarely visits, he claims he much prefers the old marshlands where our people began, though few actually believe that old tale. I much prefer that we were spawned from the riverfolk, than the notion I came from a mud puddle...

But uncle Kevenon thinks it time to discuss my bridal prospects, I quickly left the scene before I could be drawn into any serious discussion on the matter.

Marry? Me marry? Psh, I haven't any intention of such a foolish act. I like women, but to saddle oneself with one for the rest of eternity, especially considering the life expectancy of a Riverton? Besides, plenty of kings have sired heirs without a proper bride. Why must I take one?

Regardless, while my father is amused with my point of view, I highly doubt that I Shall remain a bachelor forever... what a shame...