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Bk pers diary is

Content[]

Upon receiving confirmation of my acceptance to the Academy of Natural Philosophy, I stood on the steps of my father’s shop, holding the letter in trembling hands. My eyes ran over the words, written in elegant script. My thumb caressed the wax seal bearing the crest of that esteemed institution. The thought of spending years among the greatest minds from across the Isles overwhelmed me.

Saying goodbye to my family in Karnaca, I travelled to Cullero for a week with my cousins before continuing my passage toward Dunwall. My pride and their praise carried me along. I entered the Academy halfway through the month of Darkness and with perspective that feels appropriate.

I dreamed of exploring the depths of knowledge, but as a first year student the only depths I have explored are at the bottom of chamber pots. Layers of hierarchy press down upon me, so that I feel like a tiny worm, twisting at the heart of a great cathedral. I cook, clean and mend clothing for the older students and faculty. I spend half my nights over steaming laundry vats instead of the dense tomes I expected.

How naive I was to imagine that I might engage with the emerging theories of our time, and even perhaps expand them. Alas, I am only a fresh set of hands for receiving and peeling crates of potatoes from Morley. Mother! Father! Milk churning bears no more secrets for me. Is this truly how my intellect is to be applied?


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