It was a depressingly dark night that evening. The air was thick with the smells of Velheim merriment as the celebrations of Ivars return commenced amongst his village. Yet as he sat awake at night with charcoal pencil in hand and journal ready to be written within he gave a heavy exhale to the breeze, flickering the candle below him with his breathe.
<N> "Dear journal, I grow conflicted. Will my ancestors forsake me for my decision? Will the God's turn their backs or embrace me with open arms?"
The books only reply was a silent crinkling of it's page turning from a breeze.
<N> "Of course... I suppose you are right in that regard dear journal. I must walk my own path and forge a new trail for those who come after myself. Maybe then life will be better for them at that point."
He leaned forward and began to scribble the days happenings within his journal, his pencil quick yet careful as the light illuminated it in nonlinear waves of the winds washing through the home.
"Dear Journal,
I have decided to walk a new road today. Where it leads I can only hope will provide a better end than the one I was on previously. You and I have been seeing each other very often dear Journal, and I feel you should be the first to know before I say it to all. I am no longer a Valdemar. Nor are any Valdemars. As a patriarchal order I have decided to change our family name to Ulfmaerr, for which our legendary tales shall have echo throughout time. We shall continuing keeping the records of the Valdemar family within our homes but any further documents will be signed as Ulfmaerr, and you shall be the first dear journal. The text of Pride and Honor amongst my people is illegible lest you are able to understand the patterns of blood that like drying in the snows of Drixagh or the decaying corpses of my people from months prior. And I have only great admiration for my ancestors long ago who held the name Valdemar proudly upon their shoulders and bore the burden. But to truly be able to walk my own path in this world, to pave my own trail and walk my own way. I must do this. Those of my family who will walk this path with me shall carry this new name, those who do not shall remain of that cadet branch of our House. I hold no grudge to those members of my family and still will accept them as my family yet I will not bear the name. Ulfmaerr is where my story is to be written, by the God's wants I shall be the first to burden the weight of this task. Am I ready Dear Journal? Has my father taught me enough to lead? Has my mother taught me enough to survive? Perhaps the Staagir has the answers.
Sincerely yours dear journal,
Eske Ulfmaerr
And so he wrote his text. And the next morning he assembled the town and told them what he had told his journal the evening prior, many were confused and others inspired. Some of the more loyal to the name grew aghast yet after further explanation soon understood. And with a final warcry the festivities continued as a celebration of new beginnings, and the return of their patriarch. Eske Ulfmaerr.
<N> "Dear journal, I grow conflicted. Will my ancestors forsake me for my decision? Will the God's turn their backs or embrace me with open arms?"
The books only reply was a silent crinkling of it's page turning from a breeze.
<N> "Of course... I suppose you are right in that regard dear journal. I must walk my own path and forge a new trail for those who come after myself. Maybe then life will be better for them at that point."
He leaned forward and began to scribble the days happenings within his journal, his pencil quick yet careful as the light illuminated it in nonlinear waves of the winds washing through the home.
"Dear Journal,
I have decided to walk a new road today. Where it leads I can only hope will provide a better end than the one I was on previously. You and I have been seeing each other very often dear Journal, and I feel you should be the first to know before I say it to all. I am no longer a Valdemar. Nor are any Valdemars. As a patriarchal order I have decided to change our family name to Ulfmaerr, for which our legendary tales shall have echo throughout time. We shall continuing keeping the records of the Valdemar family within our homes but any further documents will be signed as Ulfmaerr, and you shall be the first dear journal. The text of Pride and Honor amongst my people is illegible lest you are able to understand the patterns of blood that like drying in the snows of Drixagh or the decaying corpses of my people from months prior. And I have only great admiration for my ancestors long ago who held the name Valdemar proudly upon their shoulders and bore the burden. But to truly be able to walk my own path in this world, to pave my own trail and walk my own way. I must do this. Those of my family who will walk this path with me shall carry this new name, those who do not shall remain of that cadet branch of our House. I hold no grudge to those members of my family and still will accept them as my family yet I will not bear the name. Ulfmaerr is where my story is to be written, by the God's wants I shall be the first to burden the weight of this task. Am I ready Dear Journal? Has my father taught me enough to lead? Has my mother taught me enough to survive? Perhaps the Staagir has the answers.
Sincerely yours dear journal,
Eske Ulfmaerr
And so he wrote his text. And the next morning he assembled the town and told them what he had told his journal the evening prior, many were confused and others inspired. Some of the more loyal to the name grew aghast yet after further explanation soon understood. And with a final warcry the festivities continued as a celebration of new beginnings, and the return of their patriarch. Eske Ulfmaerr.
