The Diary of Queen Cecelia

May 17, 2017
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Five months after Alistair's departure
It’s been weeks since I lost everyone that ever mattered to me. Or has it been months? You don’t really keep track of time when you’re grieving. But now that I think of it, it’s probably been months, considering the size of my belly. I can finally get out of bed, so here I am writing this. I still don’t understand peoples’ need to write down every single feeling, especially when no one else is ever gonna read it. But here I am because I guess I don’t have anyone else to talk to except a piece of paper.
           My magic has been fickle from neglect. That's what happens when you're the original witch and you've been on bed arrest for quite some time. I never worried about it before because Alistair could always help me control my unbelievable power. Oh Alistair, my friend, my love, my life; the father of my children. But now that he is gone I fear my powers might do unspeakable things that could expose me. I don't know what would happen if my subjects found out that there were things like witches, werewolves, and vampires lurking in the shadows.
Today I was thinking of visiting other kingdoms; I’ve never really been anywhere outside of France. I never thought about it before; you don’t think about those things when you have all you ever needed in life. Although it might be a little difficult due to my pregnancy.
I’ve also been conversing with other monarchs about setting up some sort of meeting; it’s about time that I got more involved with international relations. My past relationships with monarchs of traveling kingdoms---royal families that move to different lands with the change of throne--- have been pretty good, so I would like to have the chance to meet other higher monarchs like myself. I don't know if they'll be different, because they hold so much more power and have their own countries. I've heard that power can go to people's heads and change them. Although I could never be certain about this theory, for I've had the power of being a monarch all my life.
I guess for now, all I can do is walk around my empty castle waiting for something to actually happen. Sometimes I curse myself for creating such an ironclad society; sometimes a queen needs a crisis, just to keep life interesting.


Five and a half months after Alistair's departure
I have received many letters insisting that I not travel during my pregnancy. I was dumbfounded by how quickly the news had spread, especially since I had not announced it. I am afraid some of my staff have been gossiping about my current predicament. My people were already wary enough of the lack of kingship. I fear my subjects have been getting angsty.
This is why I have arranged a ball. I am inviting anyone from my kingdom who wishes to attend. I want my subjects to know that everything in the castle is fine and my current situation doesn't change anything. This will be my first ball without my best friends, who were practically my kin.
Well, all except Alistair. He was so much more. Although our romance was short lived, it felt like forever with him. It felt as though nothing could come between us. But that was felling was quelled when he was ripped away from me so suddenly. I miss him so much. He was supposed to be here with me. I know he wouldn't have willingly left, which makes me worry about him more. I was only given relief when I had a vision of him and the rest of my friends, assuring me that they were well out of the reach of death.


Eight and a half months after Alistair's departure
It's been a while since I've written. It turns out carrying triplets is quite the hindrance; who knew? I went to the physician today and found out that I am nearing the end of my pregnancy. I am excited to bring three new lives into this world, but I'm also nervous. I've heard the pain of birthing one child is great enough, let alone three. Although the thing that frightens me the most is how much they will remind me of Alistair. The thought is crippling. I wouldn't want that to influence the kind of relationship I have with my sons. Yes they're all boys, which is why this problem might occur. Speak of my luck?


Nine months after Alistair’s departure
Jesus, they are so beautiful. I couldn't imagine anything more so. They look so much like him, so much like him. I wish he were here to see their little angelic faces; and their teeny, tiny toes; and their oh so innocent eyes. One set as dark as the deep blue sea; one set as golden as the shining sun; one set as endless as the night sky. I shall name them Jason, Jonathan, and James.

Six months after the boys’ birth
My worst fear has come to be. I am so ashamed. What is wrong with me? I can't even stand their presence.
Every time I look at them my heart shatters. Then my heart breaks again at the thought that I can't even look at my sons; my heart and soul; my flesh and blood; one of the only things that matters to me in this bleak life. Then they remind me of another person that means the world to me, and it makes me want to see my sons.
It's an endless, relentless loop. I wish it would just stop. I would give anything to make it stop, except, of course, the only thing that would do so. My sons are my world, but they are also my weakness. How could this be, and why? What have I ever done to deserve such cruelty?


Eight months after the boys’ birth
It stopped. I’ve never been so relieved in my life. I realized that I was only focusing on Alistair's absence. I did not see that I still had pieces of him; three perfect little pieces.
Today James cast his first spell. It took me greatly by surprise because he is not even to the age of one. It was an elemental spell, one with no need for an incantation. I was tickling him, and next thing I know the nursery was flooding with water. The boys loved to play in water, so it made sense to me that it would be the first element they could command. I tried to clear the water from the room, but James proved to be a worthy opponent. Sooner or later, I settled with transferring the water from the floor to the bath and let the boys splash around in it. They were in there for a while before I got them out; we almost missed bedtime.
Two years after the boys’ birth
Today was an eventful day. Not only did Jason start casting, but Jonathan did so too. It was out of control.
The boys have been walking for some time now, and today they ran rampant through the castle, lashing out with their powers like heathens. Shelves were thrown to the ground, mattresses were flipped, dishes were broken, and on top of it all they managed to move the throne to the other side of the throne room.
I don't think they meant to do this much damage. I fear their powers are getting out of hand. I don't know why their power is so great. I don't like it when I don't know things.


Two years and fifty-four days after the boys’ birth
My life turned upside down today. The boys’ magic was too much. They severely injured and almost killed a maid. I didn't know what else to do; I had to send them away.
They were threatening the wellbeing of my people; they were threatening the obscurity of my biggest secret. I don’t know what would happen if anybody found out what we were. They need to be trained far away from anyone they can put in harm's way, so I bestowed the responsibility of their training to a trusted witch ally.
I can't help but wonder if it would have gone differently if Alistair were here. I have had many visions of him, and he seems to be well and not oppressed by anything. So why hasn't he found his ways back to me? If he seems happy was what we had even real? With every vision I have, I lose a little more of my hope that he'll return. I'm trying so hard to hold onto it, but it is very difficult. I don't want to let him go, but he might not give me a choice.
Now for the third time in my life, after being abandoned by my flesh and blood and losing my adopted family, I am left alone. Why? That is all I have to say, just why? I will not write anymore, for I do not have the will; nor do I have anything to write about.
 






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