I know I said I’d never do it, but I truly blame Garion.

I’ve been spending some time on the other side of the maws. I still don’t like it, but Garion insisted on going and exploring and there’s no way I could let him go alone. I mentioned an idea that I’d considered but forced myself to dismiss, the opportunity to see the story of my family’s exile unfold before my eyes. Such a terrible idea!

The more I turned it in my mind, the worse it sounded. And yet… I couldn’t resist. Weakness of my mithra upbringing? Failure in my faith? Bah, regardless of the reason I’m now just as bad as everyone else.

Garion wanted to go to San d’Oria first, I think just to farther draw me into the idea. The treck was far more difficult than I expected it to be. Jugner is a mess back then, orcish barricades everywhere, landslides. The trip took three times as long as it should. I was nervous about seeing the capital, but was fairly sure what I’d see. San d’Oria is notorious for not changing.

And so I joined the Iron Rams. Goddess, what am I thinking? How is ‘everyone else has already messed it all up’ an excuse? I’m selfish. Selfish selfish.

Garion seems worried and distracted in this time period, I thought he’d feel better here. But he mumbles under his breath, looks out over the southern horizon and acts as if nothing is wrong when I ask him of it. Aren’t women suppose to be the one’s who are hard to understand? I wish he’d stop hiding things from me.

He says perhaps tomorrow we’ll head toward Windurst. For some reason I’m less nervous about that. I’ve seen what the war did to Windurst, I grew up in the aftermath. Less like time travel and more like living in memory, ugh. So messed up.