The Journal of Charteila Noctuenza

(8/13/04)

As I sit here writing in this, I can't help but watch the sunset on the sea. I've seen so many sunsets on this very pier, but somehow this one means a little more to me.

In a few weeks I'm leaving the city. There is a ship chartered to take myself and a few others to the Isle of Refuge. It's funny...I don't feel like a refugee. I've lived here in Freeport for most of my life. I guess the plan is to pick of a few other members of the organization and bring them back to Freeport. I'm not sure what The Brethren has to offer to me besides death. There has to be something more...but I don't know, the promise of fame and fortune seems to be too good to be true. I don't need fame, really. Fortune...well, anything's better than poverty.

I'm not sure who else will be reading this, but I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Charteila...Maybe I should adopt a surname. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'm afraid that something might happen overseas that could affect my family. It's probably just me being too cautious...I'm not normally this careful, but these aren't normal circumstances, now are they?

Anyway, my name is Charteila Noctuenza. That has a nice ring to it. I'm a Half Elf. I'm nineteen years old, but I still live with my father, a Human, in Freeport. His name is Roland. He got me my job here at the port a few years ago. I started working here because he hurt his back and we needed the money. He's fine now, but he's getting old. I worry about him sometimes...but I'm very proud of him. Even though he is older, he's planning on learning a trade and opening a shop, and when he's financially secure he'll quit his job at the port. This makes it easier on both of us, because he won't be straining himself and I won't be worrying about him. I'll be honest, I have a lot of reservations about leaving home. I know I'm old enough, and I'll have no problem taking care of myself...but I still worry about what's going to happen to my family. I guess...they're really all I have.

The port is a big part of my life. To me, it represents opportunities through hard work. You only get as much as you give. Hard work is noticed and rewarded here. When I started, I was fifteen. I could hardly lift a crate, so I did a lot of cleaning. I didn't mind that much, I mean, back when I was little it was my responsibility to take care of the house when Dad was gone. He was gone a lot, but that was fine. He did so much for me back when I was younger. He worked extra hours just so I could go to school. He used to perform in taverns at night with his friends, and that brought in a bit of money. He used to be a traveling musician...I think that's how he met my mom. It was hard on him when he hurt his back, but I guess that was just life happening. My fifteenth year was a year of truth and maturity, I guess. I decided to quit school and work at the port because it was best for the family, and it would make it so we could keep our home. At first, Dad had his reservations, but we talked about it and eventually I got a job at the port. He had wanted me to be a scholar, but I guess life just didn't want me to be one. I told him that I would never lose my will to learn everything that I can, and I think that made it easier. I've always been a curious person, and just because I couldn't go to school didn't mean that I would stop learning.

The past four years have been a time of change for me. Before I started working here, I was a very quiet person. I didn't have many friends. I still don't, but I feel like I've opened up to the ones that I have. I guess I'm still wary of random people though...I wouldn't trust them anyway, because blind trust in Freeport can get you killed. There are so many people here corrupted by evil. But, in addition to that...this is hard. I don't like writing this, but it's hard to be a Half Elf. At school...I was teased. A lot. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I wanted to leave school...I'm not sure. Anyway, when I started at the port, all I did was clean ships. When I came home, I would go out jogging with my dad as he tried to get his strength back. I guess the exercise gave me strength too, because soon I could lift the crates without a problem, just like my dad could. Sometimes I still need help with the bigger ones, but hey, I'm no Barbarian. I'm a Half Elf, and even in the face of prejudice I'm proud of my heritage. I've met so many other Half Elves who are bitter because of the prejudices against them. I wonder why I'm not...I guess I am a little, but I won't let it take over my life.

I'm fortunate I have the father that I do. I don't think a lot of the Half Elves that I've met are close to their parents. I talk to my father a lot about everything: politics, religion, even people we see passing by on the street. I've been able to talk to him my whole life, even before I started working here, but I feel that in the past four years I've attained a better understanding of the world, and thus our conversations have become more meaningful. When I leave, I'm going to miss being able to talk to him.

Dad and I are keeping a secret. I'm sure by the time anyone reads this, it will no longer be a secret. We're trying to get my mother back into Freeport. She's a Wood Elf, but I guess Qeynos just isn't her cup of tea. It's sad, Qeynos sounds like such a beautiful place...I'm sure my mother loves it there, too, but maybe she loves my dad more. In times like these, everyone has to be willing to make sacrifices. My mom's a Druid, so she's very close to nature. I remember...back before the Shattering, she and I used to walk through the forests near Kelethin, where I was born. I used to ask so many questions, and I'm sure she might have gotten annoyed a little, but she always answered them. After the Shattering, we left Kelethin to live with my dad, but she had to leave the city because Wood Elves weren't welcome in Freeport anymore. I bet if the Shattering didn't happen...I would probably still be in Kelethin, learning Druidic magic just like my mom, but I don't know if I would be close to my dad, and I wouldn't be the person I am now. I guess I should stop dwelling on the past and look to the future. I just want to see my mother. I miss her so much...I want my family back together again. I want to be able to get to know her again.

I guess that's my life story. It's not interesting, I know...but I'm fine with that. This opportunity I have...maybe this will make my life interesting. Maybe I can raise my family's quality of life. I hope I'm successful. I want to make life better for myself, my dad, and my mom once she can come live here again. Hopefully that will be soon.