Dearest and most desired journal,
I've never really thought about writing in all my years of traveling. It sounded like a silly idea to me, to keep a journal of my visions and thoughts. I'd the important details and the rest would be forgotten, and that's that. I don't know why I'm changing.
Maybe it's because of this place. A home, a real home. Not some mold-covered alleyway, and not a patch of grass surrounded by nothing but stars for miles. There's a roof over my head, a bed under my body, and food in a kitchen. What a fantastic thing to have.
Arnthe would have loved it here. If I had any deep regrets, it would be leaving him. How long would it take to find him again? To collect him and bring him with me? Months, maybe years? Would I return? This is why I don't leave this place.
If only Arnthe could see me now, living the life of the privileged. He'd probably be happy for me, he always was. Sometimes too optimistic, it seemed. But he was like a contrast, orange to blue, sky to ground. My opposite, like a magnet, we attracted.
But, as magnets do, one of us flipped poles, and I wouldn't be able to tell you who, and we repelled, couldn't even touch. I was, and still am, surprised on how we left each other on such a good note. I can barely comprehend my own current reality, in all of its perfection.
I hope he's happy.
...
Enough about him, he's in the past. If he's doing fine, then fantastic. Good job not dying, Arnthe. If not, then at this point, it's not my problem.
I have met some of the others in my dorm area in a short interaction where I exited my room to get food. It was... not the worst. Thankfully they're respective neighbors.
I think we might get along well. I don't talk much yet, and don't feel the need to. I might check out the arena, though, or go for a run. I feel like I haven't kept up any sort of workout schedule, just working on some little travel trinkets and arranging my room.
I'll be sure to report any interesting findings. There aren't any yet, though. It might take a while before I have a good story.
Anyways, this concludes the first journal entry of mine. Not very eventful, just getting some stuff of my shoulders, I guess.
Sincerely,
Shyrenh
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