I can't wait to see you tonight, sister-kin.
I have finished the final copy of my research. I would be awarded my scholar's robe, if the college wasn't closed for the festivities tonight.
Yes, I was serious about the ancient fable having been wrong. The miscarriage of one character from transcription of an older scroll was then continually mistranslated for at least a millennium. The gender was actually a she and I've found her!
She was half-Knorth. I could only find out her genealogy. Periel could not, or perhaps would not, tell me anything else. Still to obliterate the souls of the Kencyrath's enemies sounds heinous, but there is no record of how. 'Deeds too foul to speak', indeed.
It's too bad that house fell, four worlds ago. They might have kept some family history and song that was never disseminated outside their own walls. You know how crazy it gets for the minor houses, never enough time or people to record and transcribe it for the college.
That's enough of my academic rambling. Promise to meet me tonight. Surely we can slip away from the rest, perhaps find a corner of the Master's house to spend a few precious moments.