This diary is written in Eloran. At first, the script is incredibly precise, as if the calligrapher were wielding his quill as a sword and doing ritual battle with the paper. It looks as though all of the pages in the first two-thirds of the book have been torn out. As the entries move forward in what seems to be chronologically order, the writing gets sloppier and sloppier, as if the writer can no longer contain his excitement and his haste to put quill to paper overrides whatever discipline would normally compel him to take his time and write neatly.
I have torn out all of my previous writings, for they are as meaningless as the chattering magpie’s endless litany of observations and complaints. I am reborn and my people reborn with me, so it is only fitting that this record should begin anew upon the glorious day of our rebirth.
My fingers nearly tremble such that I cannot even write the words.
She has returned to us!
I know not how, for Lord Magros did not explain it to me, but the details are unimportant. After all the endless years of misery and loneliness… our faith has been rewarded. I did not believe it at first, and I was far from alone in my doubt. But then Magros came, and invited me to look into the Orumar, and there She was. I knew it in my soul from the moment I saw Her, even though… but it is best not to think of such things. We will heal Her, just as She has healed us by Her return.
(…)
I hope that the sacrifices are pleasing to Her. We perform the rituals exactly as Magros showed us. We emptied the prison right away, of course; a few of them were fairly well along in the process, but nevertheless, there could be no higher purpose than using them to benefit Her. We have no more prisoners, however, so we will need to look beyond our trees in order to find more. That should not be a problem as there is always a ready supply of humans and snake-men to be had.
(…)
She has blessed us with a visitation! We had piled up our greatest sacrifice so far… fully a dozen, all fully intact. When we completed the offering, there She was, striding forth from the Orumar. She caressed my face and told me that She loved me. The sheer joy of seeing her walk among us once more nearly killed me on the spot, although Magros says that it was only an Aspect, that She cannot fully enter our world again until she has had more time to recover. Magros says that we are to double our sacrifices and that all across Malfea, our people sing Her praises and are rewarded with Her blessings.
(…)
She appeared in the Soulspring again today… even more beautiful and majestic than before. There can be no doubt that our efforts are helping. Everyone in the tower saw Her and we all felt Her glory. She spoke… such a voice… I cannot begin to describe it. She told us that the time has come, that the War begins, that we are to reclaim the legacy of Belestor and destroy the usurper children of Man along with the hated serpents. At last, Vengeance! We will have to keep a few of them alive so that they can be used to fulfill the prophecy of Ardelia, but Magros says that there are plenty of them and so we shouldn’t worry about saving any until we have nearly wiped them all out. How I have longed to lick their blood from my blades and now it shall come to pass. The Voluri never lost faith and for our loyalty She has given us the ultimate reward.
(…)
We received our orders today. Magros has called forth all the Voluri – we are all Her children and so we all deserve to be a part of the War. None shall be left behind. He told us that She had tried to approach the other Elorii Nations but they refused her. I am not surprised. They lost their faith when Belestor fell. They are not worthy to bear the name Elorii. I shall kill them as gladly as I kill the accursed Val.
(…)
I am instructed to seal the tower with the usual guards and wards and to speak with the trees. They will know what to do. Before I could think to contain myself, I had the temerity to ask if it was wise to leave our border undefended. Magros just laughed. He said that the foolish Coryani will never even know we are gone. They are so terrified of us that they fear even to stand in the shadow of our boughs. And right they are to be terrified, for She gives us strength that they and their petty butcher usurper Gods can never hope to match. All they can hope to do is run and so be the last of their kind to die.
(…)
We go. When we return it will be with the skins of our enemies and Her rebirth will be completed.
NOVARAS!