Morning of the eighth of January:
I feel weary today; bone tired one might say. Yesterday I spent some time aiding those in Azuremyst Isle. Although the isle has mostly been tamed and much of the contamination that the Exodar apparently spread across the island in its crash has been cleaned up, there are still the odd rogue pockets of malformed creatures or irradiated crystals that require attention.
Using my magic is taxing to me, and I fear I still have not fully recovered my strength from my incapacitation. I can only muster enough strength to cast the most basic of spells that any apprentice should have little issue with, and yet when I am done I find my head spinning and that I am short of breath.
The priests say I should rest longer, should spend more time in study and prayer instead of trying to go out into the world yet, but I cannot sit idle any longer. I must regain my strength and ready myself for the next time my magic is needed. If anything, my injuries and near death experience have proven to me that I was not prepared enough the first time.
I've had a good night's rest, and despite this nagging weariness I am determined to set out once more. I have already met some of the peoples that have allied with us and heard remarkable tales about their fight against the legion. This gives me hope as I continue to heal that I am joining something grand and new that perhaps will at last tip the balance in our favor. If not, I will be prepared for whatever is to come. I must be ready.
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