I couldn’t make a puppet today. It came as no surprise. I don’t want to make one, subconsciously that is. Regardless of how I tried, my body and my mind didn’t cooperate with me. That’s fine though.

I couldn’t make a sword either. Nor could I make a bow, a staff, or even arrows. Armor though, armor I could make. I took to wearing my armor, being comforted by its presence, and distinctly aware of its absence.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I could make other things too, and I did. I reveled in the joy of creation today. Well, reveled is a bit strong, distracted myself might be a better phrasing.

It seems the people that attacked us were slavers. But it doesn’t matter, not to me at least.

Anyway, Good Night Diary.