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Memoirs of the Lost

[Savannah - Journal] Date Unknown - The First Days

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April Horinek

[Savannah - Journal] Date Unknown - The First Days

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OOC Note: This character is heavily influenced by the game Castle Falkenstien.  For those not familiar, it is an amazing system.  Instead of having a character sheet, you keep a character journal.  It is a steampunk-esque game, and players are encouraged to journal everything that happens to their character.  Well, I don't have a Falkenstein game that I can play in, but Savannah would fit right into that world.  To that end, I will be journaling both her background stuff and current things. This journal was lost when she fled Arcadia.

Date Unknown

I don’t know how long I have been here. Time feels wrong. There are days that seem to stretch on for years, and nights that seem to pass by in the blink of an eye. I can’t help but wonder if my family is missing me yet. Do they know I am gone? Do they wonder about me? Have I been relegated to another family cautionary tale?

‘Don’t wander out on the savannah by yourself. You’ll disappear like Song Bird.’

There are days I hardly even remember my true name. Moments where I forget who and what I was before stumbling into hell. Elena Anne Westerly. That is who I am. Perhaps if I keep repeating it over and over again, it will be true.

It seems that my sole purpose in being here is to entertain Him. Sometimes I will spend what feels like days telling him a story, or months singing to him. It is truly something from Arabian Nights.

He treats me like a little treasure. I know that there are others like me here – poor souls who have been taken and bound to this place. I see them rarely, but when I do, their eyes and countenance are filled with venom. Though he keeps me apart from them, sometimes when I sleep I hear the whispers of agony from the others who are bound with me.

I am fairly certain he tortures them. Does unspeakable things to them under the cover of darkness. Perhaps that is why some nights are so long? He requires more time to visit his depravity upon those poor, tortured souls.

It makes a horrid person to think this, but there is a part of my soul that is eternally grateful for my position. I am comfortable and warm, well fed on food fit for a Goddess. I am given my every whim, save that one small thing that He will never give me. What have I done to deserve this? What have they done to deserve their treatment?

I must face the realistic expectation that someday he will tire of me. My story will not be witty enough, my song will falter, and my face will not be fair enough. I fear what He will do on that day. Will I join the tortured masses of his palace in the woods? Will I be turned out into the forest to be hunted like a stag? Will He set me free? If I serve Him well enough, will he allow me to go? I am fairly certain my fate will be dire, upon the day he tires of my presence.

For now, I must continue on. I will smile for him, tell him my favorite tales, and sing when he commands. I will be his Song Bird, for I fear what will happen to me if I do not.

I am no less Lost then I was when I first arrived here. But there are days where I fear I have become more damned.

~Song Bird

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