September 25, 1293

Today a farmer who lives across town , a friend of Geoffrey's, lost his finger in an accident. I ran over to try to help, but I couldn't do much but stop the bleeding. I started to panic until a cleric showed up. He appeared very skilled and calmly took his place next to the farmer. He chanted quietly for about 20 seconds and then, right before my eyes, the finger began to grow back. The entire process took less than 2 minutes and the man was as good as new. I had never noticed the clerics in the village before, but I suppose they must have been there. There's no way I could've handled all of the healing that night. Paladins are hardly even meant for that sort of work.

I stood in awe of the cleric and asked him his name. He said his name was Telchim and he came from a church not too far to the east of here. I asked him if he could teach me that spell and he laughed. He said a woman of my talents was not the kind of woman who could learn healing spells. He said I was too focused on justice and judgment to find the redemption and serenity that clerics value.

I found that funny. Redemption and serenity were what I needed the most.

After a while, I convinced him to take me on as an apprentice. He said it would take a while to get me to unlearn what I had learned as a paladin to be able to truly embrace being a cleric. This made me uncomfortable, but I realized that the more he spoke about paladins and clerics, the more I realized that he was listing every single thing that made me uncomfortable with being a paladin. The judgment, the militant evangelism, the blatant self-righteousness...I didn't need to convert the world, I just needed to help. 

I followed him back to the church. They worshiped Shelyn, but they insisted that I didn't need to to be accepted there. That felt right. For the most part, he just taught me about what it means to be a cleric, but everything he said made me feel more and more at home. It feels like everything is falling into place.