Sorrow and Song (or X, as I commonly refer to it, and may accidentally do so in this chapter) was an interesting case compared to the other Ceristen books. By the time we started it, all the other books had been in progress for over a year -- it was May 2015. My sister and I knew we were going to make a book out of this one, knew that it was going to be big, had actually done the closest we ever came to plotting any of these things beforehand, and we were hyped.

It took us six months to talk-play the whole thing, partly because we got stumped. We took a break and did one of our old Middle-Earth Legea fellowships. By the time I buckled down to writing even the introductory parts of X, my writing was looking considerably "up" and Fred in The Journey was on the verge of his turnaround from morbid/morose/depressed MC to indecisive/struggling/actually likeable MC.

So, November 2015. X is all laid out, finished, still unnamed and mostly unwritten, but I have scribbled out the first chapter. The first part, of course, is bringing the readers up to speed with everything that's happened over the 24-year interval. I transcribed it to the computer, and added bits here and there, tweaked it for flow and interest.

Then, somewhere in the summer of 2017, I chucked it.

It simply wasn't doing its job.

Thing is, it was a diary of Margaret Thorne, and as interesting as it was, it didn't exactly showcase Ceristen the way I wanted. It was too introspective and narrow in scope. It also didn't give the readers a chance to peek into the doings outside Ceristen, and hint at matters that would be very important later on.

As a tribute to the workings of my fifteen-year-old mind and a girl growing up in a small Ordenian village, though, it may as well go down for posterity.

Be aware that since I haven't touched this for a long time, some parts of it are inaccurate. Ceristen doesn't have regular "parties" for its young folk, and Margaret has only five siblings, not ten or however many it was. And other, small things. But substantially, the events would be the same.

ALTERNATE FIRST CHAPTER

Her dress was of simple, even rough brown material, gathered in well at the waist, the sleeves long and the neck high. Her beautiful, noble features were of the Sedgleys; the quiet firmness in her countenance and bearing were of the Thorns. But the dancing, humourous light in her clear grey eyes was all her own. There was a smile on her lips as she turned the yellowed pages of the book.

April 25, 2919. I am not going to call this diary Dear Diary, because it isn't dear to me, at least not yet. It is just a book. I will not talk to it, either. It is for me to write about things that happen in my life.

I am Margaret Fiona Thorn. My middle name is my mother's name.

***

Pride emanated still from the faded words.

***

I am nine years old today, and this book is my birthday present. I am the oldest of all my siblings, even Thireler, who is my younger twin, though he often seems older. He is a lot like Daddy. Everybody says so. Thireler has a horse named Bronze, who will be three years old next year. He will ride him more then. Thireler is the nicest boy I know.

Altogether I have seven sisters and brothers. After Thireler comes Donald, who loves being outside and looking at bugs and animals, but hates heights. Then Lydia, who Mama says is like a delicate flower. She is a much nicer girl than I am. Then Elijah, who is so quiet but the sweetest, most darling boy there ever was. He learned how to read when he was only two. Then there are twins again. Mama says that is because twins run in both her and Daddy's families. Jemima and Antonia are very different. Jemima is always running around and squealing, and she has golden hair just like Mama's, and Antonia is a great deal like Auntie Gwen, who was married last spring. I was

her bridesmaid.

Finally there is Nathaniel, who is only one year old and can't say my name properly. He calls me "Magwee", which sounds like ragweed.

Lily Elendale is my best friend. She is four months older than me, and we see each other often during the summer months.

Lydia is calling me from the house now. It must be time for patchwork. I hate patchwork.

***

More pages turned.

***

April 19, 2920. Soon it will be another horse sale, and soon I will turn ten. Mama says that the people of Ceristen measure years by two things: the horse sale and the harvest festival. My cousin Laura will turn nine next year. I don't like her very much. Her family always seems a little better off than ours, which isn't very fair, since after all we're both farmers.

...

July 3, 2921. We played by the creek today. The Kenhelms were there, and so was Lily. We walked in the woods together and talked about things, and put flowers in each others' hair.

...

December 24, 2921. Lily turned eleven a few days ago. It gives such a quivery feeling to think that in two years she will be thirteen – and that's only two more years away from fifteen, and when you're fifteen you can put your hair up – and wear long skirts – and go to parties. There haven't been any parties for a very long time, since there has been no-one who would go to them.

I think I forgot to write last time that the baby got born on the eleventh. They named him Warren.

It's been dark and cloudy all day. Daddy says there may be a storm.

...

April 29, 2921. Thireler broke his leg today. My hands are shaking yet as I write. We were having dinner at the Kenhelms, and afterwards we played outside. Derek was climbing a tree, and a branch cracked under him and was falling down on his sister Marie. Thireler pushed her out of the way, and it landed on him. We thought at first he might be dead. Mr. Kenhelm sent William for the doctor, and after he set Thireler's leg we went home.

...

May 1, 2923. Mama's baby is due any day now. It's strange that a year ago, I wouldn't have been worried about it at all. Yet now that I'm older, I know that something might go wrong, and so I can't help but worry deep inside. Does it keep on going like that forever, I wonder sometimes? The older you get, the more awful things you learn about, on and on and on? Surely it stops somewhere.

Anyway, there's little enough reason to worry. Mama has already had nine healthy babies, and she's not ill either.

Nathaniel wanted the baby born today so that it would be born on New Year's, but that doesn't seem likely to happen.

May 8, 2923. The baby is born; his name is Caleb Josiah. I guess I'll be taking care of the weeding for awhile now.

...

June 11, 2924. I'm working on my second patchwork quilt now. It's not as hateful as it used to be... It's still more dull than needlework or knitting, but I can generally do it well without thinking now. (With exceptions. Sometimes I find I've just sewn a completely crooked seam or accidentally stitched the two sides together.) And it was such a satisfactory feeling to see it laid out large and beautiful in wholeness. Now I finger it sometimes as it lies folded in my hope chest, and think about the children it might cover one day.

But there, I've got to go feed the chickens now. They won't excuse me for writing about hope chests.

...

April 25, 2924. A year from now, I will be fifteen.

Fourteen doesn't feel strange, like thirteen did at first. But fifteen – it seems as though it must feel different, exhilarating...

Sometimes I wonder if I will be ready for it. Lily thinks I will, of course – good, loyal Lily.

Jane Ferguson says that when she's fifteen she won't throw snowballs or climb trees or play by the creek anymore. But that's ridiculous.

...

May 21, 2925. The plowing and planting season is over, and there has been time for more things, like picnics by the lake. We went there with the Kenhelms today, and Marie and I waded in the shallows a little. Meantime, William told Caleb and Warren about how he's going to go down to Orden City when he's sixteen and apprentice himself to a doctor, Finley ran around until Mrs. Kenhelm told him to stop, or he'd make himself sick, and Derek and Douglas sat by themselves and talked about whatever they talk about together.

...

April 25, 2925. It has been a beautiful day – a wonderful day.

I am fifteen – I, Margaret Fiona Thorn. And... it does feel different, I think. More than the new dress, or the pinned-up hair. I have a sense of bright, pulsing joy – of excitement, of exhilaration. Today, for a moment, it felt as though a curtain was drawn aside, and I could see all my womanhood yet to come opening up before me.

It has been – oh, such a full day. And now it's over, and I'm tired – but a good tired. Tomorrow is another horse sale. And it seems like a rather childish thing to feel, but I'm glad that I'll be fifteen for it.

***

The pages were turned more attentively now, with much less skipping.

***

May 9, 2926. There's been little time for anything except work lately. I don't seem to have the time much to think about being fifteen, but at night I sometimes take the knowledge out, like a jewel, and marvel at it.

There has been talk of having a party at the castle in July, after one or two more people turn fifteen.

July 8, 2926. The party last night felt a little awkward at first. Lily and I were the only girls there; our cousin Charles Delaney came, and Galdrian Stafford, and Rufus Ogre – and of course Thireler.

I looked around the room and felt my shoulders droop a little as I realized that I probably wouldn't have any dances, and for my first party, too. All the boys sat in the opposite corner, the picture of stiff, embarrassed masculinity. Thireler wasn't, really, I should say. He looked like he always did, gentle and at ease. A trifle troubled, perhaps, over the uncomfortable situation developing.

Then I saw Jonathan Denholm by the doorway and felt a little surprise. He isn't – married – but he's seven and a half years older than Lily, who was the oldest fifteen-year-old there. I heard a few murmurs, and knew the others had seen him too.

He didn't really pay any attention – just stood there for awhile – and then he came over to Lily and me, and addressed Lily. "Miss Lily, would you like a dance?" he said.

Lily stared at him, every bit as startled as I, and then she flushed beautifully and said, "Yes."

I watched with mixed feelings as they moved out. I was happy – very happy – that Lily had got a dance for her first party. But I knew that after the dance was over, Jonathan would come and ask me for one. I didn't want to dance with someone who had asked me out of – pity – because I wouldn't get one otherwise.

And then I saw Galdrian walking towards me. He looked resolute, and with a sudden flash of intuition I realized what he was going to say to me.

"Margaret – " he said hesitantly. "May I – have this dance?"

I could sense my face breaking into a delighted smile. "Yes," I replied.

So we danced.

He has complimented me, once or twice, and now – oh – do I dare even write this – even as a question – I wonder if Galdrian fancies me?

...

January 1, 2926. So, the third party come and gone.

A few have been added to our number and we have managed, I think, to treat each other as the normal human beings we've known from childhood. That is an improvement. Jonathan Denholm danced with Lily again, as he has the past two times. If it started out as simply being kind – I don't know – I don't think it's just that any more...

But I don't like the way Rufus Ogre keeps looking at me.

February 16, 2926. Jonathan Denholm is to court Lily. It's wonderful, and she's so happy – but it doesn't seem real. It's all happening too fast. I'll get used to it, I guess. It might take a little while, though.

April 27, 2926. Rufus asked to walk with me at the horse sale. Oh, why can't he be sensible? I don't mind him – terribly. And I can't help but be rather sorry for him. He's been spoiled when he was younger, and it's made him pushy and aggressive; so he has few friends. All right, no friends that I know of. So I would understand if he wanted company. But he wants the – the wrong kind! I don't care for him – that way. Oh, it wouldn't have been so bad – if only Galdrian Stafford hadn't passed us as we went slowly by the lake...

I feel awful – my mind's in such a turmoil. What does he think of me now? Do I even care for him? But if I don't, why do I care that he saw me walking with Rufus? Because Rufus is just rough and unfriendly?

June 5, 2927. There is a party tonight. Almost I don't want to go. What will I do if Rufus asks me to dance? I can't accept him – I can't. But I can't think of a way to refuse without hurting his feelings, and I don't want to do that. Maybe Galdrian will ask first. If he does.

What does it matter? It's only a dance. Let Galdrian think what he likes. I don't ca– but I do.

June 6, 2927. Galdrian didn't ask. Rufus did.

July 19, 2927. I poured my thoughts about Rufus out to Lily. She says I should make it clear that I don't want his attention. Easy enough to say. How do I do that?

I didn't tell her how I feel about Galdrian... I don't know how I feel about Galdrian. I like him. He's a good listener, but he has things to say as well and doesn't fear to say them... He's strong and handsome, but that's neither here nor there, even though in the stories every girl in love thinks on her lover's looks.

Not, of course, that I think I'm in love. I don't think I am – but what am I then?

...

November 20, 2927. My refusal to dance with Rufus at the last party has done no good that I can perceive. He persists in make sheep's eyes at me every time we cross each other's paths. How could I have made things more clear? Does he think I'm testing him? Playing hard-to-get?

I tried to talk to Galdrian... he made it only too plain that he wanted me to leave. So I left. Why can't he understand that I would be the happiest girl in the world if he would only ask me to sit beside him?

...

April 7, 2927. Another spring coming... another horse sale...

William Kenhelm will turn sixteen in a few months, and leave home to study the surgeon's art down in Orden City. I think he'll be happy to get away from the teasing that Derek has been giving him about Melissa Ogre. I could never marry a Kenhelm. They tease too much, and not just their family either. Derek used to make gibes at me all the time, and probably would still except that I don't see him much any more. He and William are both getting quite tall, like their father. Douglas, on the other hand, stays the diminutive one, barely keeping ahead of his younger brother Finley.

I suspect Lily will show up one of these days with a ring on her finger. I wish – but oh, what's the use?

***

Margaret closed her eyes, nodding to herself. It had been that April...

She remembered standing alone in the trees back of the house, watching as the last red rays of the sun died and a warm, blushing lilac light lingered in the sky before the dusk fell. And she had heard a sound, and turned, and Rufus had been standing there... and he had asked her to marry him.

She had stared at him, confused and horrified. And she had said no. He had asked again, pleaded, requested her to reconsider, and still she had said no. There had been no heart-spinning, no sense of a dream, no anger; just a flat conviction that this was real, and she was hurting a real person with feelings like hers, whom she had never wanted to hurt.

She remembered turning away, tears stinging her eyes, running blindly to the house and falling across her bed, and sobbing aloud to Lydia's tender, comforting presence, "I wish I were the ugliest girl in the world..."

Springing up, running to Mama, pouring it all out and crying out at the end, suddenly knowing the truth –

"I don't want to marry him, Mama! I want to marry Galdrian..."

She had not written of it in her journal. Events had started coming down on top of each other, so quickly – Galdrian had gone missing one day – the horror she felt – he was found – was hurt – was on the mend –

And then, a few weeks later, he had come to the house. He had startled her on the porch, had reached out and taken her hand, looking into her eyes. She remembered gazing back at him and thinking that he looked thinner, and older, and strangely, wonderfully glad.

"Margaret," he had said, the words bursting out as though he had been longing to say them for years and they could be contained no longer. "May I court you?"

Margaret sighed, and smiled, and looked down at the page.

***

May 16, 2928. I'm so happy I can't hold my happiness – it spills out – it must write itself on these pages, if it can be transmitted into words. Derek and Douglas, oh, those meddlesome boys! I can hardly believe Galdrian actually thought –

He says that for so long he felt himself too young, too immature to have anything to do with me. He truly believed that I – I – was too fine for him. It was torture for him – he did not say so, but I know. While he was confined to his bed after being found unconscious in the woods, Derek had apparently discovered that something was wrong with him, and he and Douglas decided to find out what. It seems they did, and tried to change his mind, but could not.

Then – then – he was riding, and passing Uncle Marcus' house, and he heard that tramp who hangs around Ceristen running up and shouting, "Mr. Sedgley, your niece Margaret done fell in the lake and drowned!"

Uncle Marcus wasn't sure whether to believe him, and he dashed over to our house and found me perfectly fine, and we were all shocked and disgusted with that nasty trick.

But Galdrian didn't see him go, and rode away thinking it was true...

It was three days before he knew. Three days – what he went through in those days, I daren't think...

"But," he told me with a light smile that belied his words, "it 'matured' me pretty hard and quick."

Matured! Oh, if that did not then nothing would!

And my father has given his permission, and Galdrian has promised to come tomorrow.

Tomorrow...

April 16, 2929. Today is my wedding day.

It has been a long time since I last picked up pen to write in here – but I have found that the older one gets, the less time one has for anything but rest and work and leisure time that one wants to spend in anything other than writing in an old book.

There is not much left in this journal – I have had it now for nearly ten years. It seems fitting that I close it on the day that I close this chapter of my life.

We wed on the village green... I feared that it would turn rainy, but it is a beautiful morning. Jennie, dear baby sister, is my flower girl, and Lydia and Jemima and Antonia are my bridesmaids. Galdrian chose Derek, poor fellow, to be his best man. I told Mama that he does not relish the prospect and she muttered that 'it seems to be hereditary'; and said laughingly how Mr. Kenhelm was Daddy's best man and he acted like the end of the world had come upon him.

Ah me, much has happened indeed. I have not recorded here how Lily was engaged, nor married; nor have I written of her little Michael, who is not quite six months now. Douglas is no longer short, and Derek is a man, and is looking to take the job of a mail courier for a year or so.

Lydia is calling me. It is time to leave.

***

The book cover fell with a faint slap. Margaret Stafford laid it aside and bent to look into the cradle at her feet. "That was nigh onto four years ago," she murmured to the sleepy-eyed baby lying therein. "And much has happened in our busy little village – and three more of us Thorns are married..."

Presently she reached down and scooped the baby up into her arms. "Is Ellie wakesie now? She happy now? Have good sleeps?"

Ellie gurgled delightedly and patted her mother's face.

"Come then, we shall go out to the barn and see Daddy and your brothers." She frowned. "I do hope Halton hasn't gone and played in Spark's stall again. He's got to learn, sometime, that horses aren't to fool around under."

END

What do you think? What did you like? What was "off"? XD