August 21, 1290

I can't believe I still have this old thing. I find it actually really funny that the last entry I wrote was about living in the church, because here I am. A few weeks after I wrote that, my mother's friends suggested to her that I start living in the cloister with the sisters. When she told me that, I was excited. It sounded like a vacation. After a while though, they wouldn't let me leave. My mother would come to visit all the time, but I wasn't allowed outside. They told me it was for my safety. I got so upset with my mother for imprisoning me that I stopped talking to her when she came. After a while though, it became okay. I got a lot of time to think, which doesn't sound very fun but I was an odd child. Instead of writing in my journal, I began praying. I talked a lot to Sarenrae and asked her for guidance. If I was born so "special," I asked her how I could use this gift. For a few years, I wanted to be a cleric. A lot of the sisters were clerics and I thought it seemed really cool. I wanted to be able to heal people and get powers from Sarenrae. I thought maybe if I were special enough then we'd get to be real friends. The best part was that clerics could wear armor and defend themselves. If I could train up enough to be a cleric, I'd be allowed into the outside world. However, I was absolutely no good with a morning star. Or a flail. Or a sword. Or a hammer. I kept trying for about a year or so but I never got much better. I always felt so uncomfortable with the armor on weighing me down and restricting my movement.

I asked Rina, my trainer if there was any way to do away with at least the armor and she said there was a way of combat that formed your body into a weapon. The only armor you needed was the ability not to get hit. The only weapons you needed were your hands and feet. Well, she told me I couldn't use my feet. She said she didn't know how to teach what she called "natural weapons" and it was very possible to injure yourself with this sort of combat. She said it required a lot of training and discipline and that it was difficult to master. I wouldn't be as powerful as I could be with a weapon or as well-protected as I could be with armor, but it sounded great. I've been training as a monk now for almost 2 and a half years and it's working out wonderfully. I can dodge most of the hits they throw at me and I can usually land my blows. The best part is that I don't have to worry about injuring anyone with weapons. It's really easy for me to lose control of something that's so separate from my body but this is my body. It's just a part of me and I can move it how I like. I feel empowered. I feel strong. I feel agile. Even though almost everyone here is older than I am, they still get my help when heavy things need to be moved around. The church has become more of a family to me than my mother ever has, and this cloister more of a home.