The lesson is meaningless unless you retain it. Or so my mentor had often told me. I believe that a teacher should engage and participate in what they teach, so it is only logical that I practice my own writing and journaling. How else should I be able to educate Quetzel and the rest of my kin? I should start from the beginning. Cempazuchitl’s Frontier Logs: It was some time ago that our ship finally came out of warp in a harsh, unfamiliar part of space. My cryostasis egg hatched me anew into a life of uncertainty. Would we find our kin? Do we really hold the strength to establish a temple here? Doubts answered perhaps another day; one cannot appear weak in front of those they command. I stood stark naked, waiting for the other eggs to hatch. Some days later, our talons dug into the arid soil of ‘Orwell’. Yanked from the grasp of a lingering floran menace, their sap did well to feed the growing flora. A rather large leap towards a goal that only seemed closer by the day. Land, yet we still needed to build upon it. We turned to the outside. Mud. Upside. Full of rampant, vile troglodytes, yet I take it. My polite manner never falters, for angering them will doom us. We’re trodden on like dirt yet I must appreciate it. I could turn Noxipac on them with a wave of my hand, perhaps sometimes I feel that near the back of my mind, yet I cannot. Days are relatively busy. I spend much of my time with my daily tasks or inventing new ways to keep myself working. Only recently have I been spending my free time on ‘hobbies’. Noxipac has decided to attempt to guide me through cooking. Despite being taught and trained since my hatchday, culinary arts were not something valuable enough for me to learn, apparently. The oven was set aflame, and our meal died inside the blaze while we were offworld. Perhaps Noxipac is to blame? He is the teacher here, after all. A glimmer of hope on our last outing. Feathers, not strangled by denim. Crests unrestricted by the headgear of other cultures. The flowing robes of the priesthood. I’m unsure if any are willing to support our cause, but their presence is comforting nonetheless. Others who may understand; perhaps some more experienced who I may confide in. I have hope for the coming days.
Journal of Sunguard Noxipac Stonetalon: [Written in neat, calligraphed Avian script is the following entry encompassing the first page of a previously untouched leather-bound journal] I have decided that I will begin to keep tabs of the days and their happenings. After a brief but insightful discussion with Priestess Cempazuchitl, I feel it would not only be an entertaining use of my time, but a productive one as well. Perhaps it will serve as a vent for my frustrations as well, as this sector has grown increasingly more exhausting to tolerate. I have expressed my concerns to Cempazuchitl, and while she is in agreement with me to some extent, she seems far more capable of dealing with the stress. I suppose it is a constant in her life, whereas I am a mere warrior; the only stress I know is in battle. Perhaps to start this off, I will detail past days of our expedition to bring this journal up to date. Since awakening from our artificial slumber, we have on several occasions visited the local settlements in an attempt to familiarize ourselves with the inhabitants of this sector. As one might expect of such a place, the denizens here are uncouth and disrespectful, associating themselves with the likes of Floran and Grounded scum. While the Priestess is capable of maintaining her diplomatic composure, I find myself tested by their ever-growing display of vulgar behavior. If not for the guidance of Priestess Cempazuchitl, I would have punished the wretched swine. Such behavior is not commonplace in decent society, which is why I am appalled to see so many that act so poorly. Perhaps it is possible that, from birth, they have been raised by savages to live as savages. On a lighter note, however, we have also claimed a settlement of our own. A home to lay our heads as we work towards our ultimate goal, the creation of a haven for our kin to populate in this faithless sector. While the settlement we inhabit as of now is barren save for us, it would not serve well as a home for our Flightless brothers and sisters. This is why we will work tirelessly until we are able to found our own temple. And once we do, we will bring enlightenment to this misguided region of space. Of course, there are moments of rest. I cherish such moments that I get to spend with my kin. Cempazuchitl has agreed to learn to cook, and I will be acting as her teacher. She is a swift learner, but unfortunately, our most recent meal was charred and burnt; shameful to admit, I believe I forgot to turn off the oven. Regardless, those moments of peace are enjoyable. I look forward to future cooking sessions with the Priestess. To aid matters, the Priestess has recently received news of a Grounded criminal in hiding somewhere in this place. An Avian by the name of Noxoc, with a coat of red feathers. We shall keep vigilant watch for this criminal and detain him once he reveals himself to us. The additional manpower will be of use once we put him to work at rehabilitation. Along with the appearance of this criminal, we have encountered multiple additional faithful out here. A reassuring thing indeed, to know we are not so alone. It seems they are on a mission to convert the faithless in this sector as well; perhaps with their aid, we will truly make a dent in the number of grounded. But, that has yet to be seen. For now, things are looking up, and I have much faith that Cempazuchitl will lead us to accomplish our task well.
[Cempazuchitl: Log 2, day ???] Days slip by rather uneventfully in recent times. On certain occasions i’ve even found myself lost at what the date is or what I had done earlier that day; they all seem to mesh into one tangle of time. Perhaps a sign my routine is too rigid, perhaps one should find more variance in their free time beyond cooking. At the very least I have been enjoying my impromptu lessons in the culinary arts, though I sometimes believe that Noxipac is learning with me as we go. Although the number of fires has been drastically reduced, the quality hadn’t improved much. Food poisoning, once. Recently. A bedridden day, despite the fever and nausea, was actually a welcome break from overseeing the temple and my other duties. Noxipac was also kind enough to take care of me then, and luckily for me the soup he made did not further my food poisoning. Construction of the temple is slow, but a great deal of progress has been made. Most of the major structure has been completed and the catacombs have been excavated. Hopefully soon it will be completed so we may continue our mission. I can hardly wait until the day we’ve spawned a thriving community here; perhaps then I can allow myself to rest.
Journal of Sunguard Noxipac Stonetalon: Entry Two [Similar to the previous entry, this entry is written neatly in black ink.] I continue to practice cooking with Cempazuchitl in our spare time. It is time well-spent, I enjoy the company; she learns very well, though mistakes are made on occasion. Fortunately, there have been no more fires. I have made certain to shut off the oven when we are not watching. Of course, that does not mean our meals have been any more edible. Not long ago, the Priestess and I became quite sick. Perhaps we were overly cautious and did not cook our ingredients long enough for fear of burning our hard work to ash. Whoever’s fault it may have been, the aftermath was not pleasant. Luckily, however, we am past it now. Being around the Priestess helps the days from becoming too empty and isolated, she has made for a pleasant friend. I now find myself looking forward to spending time with her. It is something I am unaccustomed to, spending my time in the company of another. I find it enjoyable, as opposed to protecting her while we’re out and then isolating myself in my quarters. We are past simple formality, and I am happy to have found a friend in Cempazuchitl. Additionally, construction of our temple has begun. It moves at a steady pace, but it seems it will be some time before it is complete. If we had greater numbers, progress would be made at a faster rate, but it does not seem that is going to happen. Quite unfortunate, but there is nothing to be done, so it is useless to dwell on the subject. Regardless of how long it may take us, we will accomplish our task and I have faith we will see a resurgence of Flightless in this desolate place. It will be joyful to settle down. I have spent many years traveling many places, defending the priests and priestesses I've been assigned to, and with a permanent home in sight, I find myself looking forward to an extended period of peace. I will feel more comfortable knowing the Priestess is no longer forced to remain at Orwell as well. It serves its purpose, but it is not ideal, it is such an open and undefended place. A dangerous place. Besides cooking and construction, I have been keeping up my training. Pushing myself, in fact. I wish to improve myself so that I may better defend both the Priestess and I. I have seen the way some look at us while we are out; I do not trust the people of this sector. I will ensure I am in peak condition so that I am prepared for the dangers that come our way. I fear with so few numbers, we are vulnerable to attack. I would not wish for the Priestess to be harmed because I am only able to defend from a single direction at once. This will hopefully be a non-issue as we recruit more. Even so, I cannot help but worry.
