October 5th, 740
If you think raising a five-year-old human is difficult, I want you to know that it has no comparison to a five-year-old wyvern. Imagine that your child not only asks questions incessantly about everything under the sun, always gets underfoot, and makes messes wherever they go, but that they can also fly, have razor-sharp claws that need trimming back every fortnight, and venomous barbs on the end of their tail which they keep flailing about no matter how many times you tell them to tuck it in and be mindful. Now also imagine pinning them to the ground — even though they’re already stronger than you — to cut the barbs down every month so they don’t accidentally kill you, your cat, or your other equally deadly adopted child, all the while screaming and throwing a tantrum. If your imagination is vivid enough to envision all that, then you may have a slight idea of what I’ve been going through with Sleet.

Not that Arra is any better most days! Did you know that dragons can breathe fire? I found this out last autumn. One day, he started whining and growling something fierce. Sleet told me he had a bellyache, so I told him if he needed to throw up, he should go do it in the goat pen because their dung already smells. Long story short, we had to have roast goat that week. Luckily two of my three goats jumped the fence before the fire reached them, but poor Hyacinth was standing right in front of Arra when the fire exploded out. He’s gotten better at controlling it now, but I had to keep buckets of water everywhere for several months so there was always one nearby whenever Arra needed to sneeze or belch.

I wonder if this was the magic my father was so afraid of? It was touch and go for a while, to be sure, but Arra has never caused harm on purpose.

I get the most peace when Arra and Sleet are off playing together. I have to rush to get as many of my chores done as possible before they tire themselves out and come back to bother me. It was cuter when they were both the size of small dogs, but now Arra is nearly as tall as my elbows and Sleet comes up to my shoulders. They can no longer stay inside the house; they are simply too big and have too many tails and wings swinging about. Their new beds are in the barn, and didn’t that spark a month-long tantrum that severely tested the limits of my sanity. I spent at least two weeks straight crying into my pillow every night. I wonder just how big they’re going to get. What if they outgrow the barn in another few years? What if Arra ends up the size of my house? Or bigger?

Fortunately, it's not all tantrums and tears of frustration. Sleet still loves being read to every night, always asking for The Hero Who Wasn’t even though I have acquired more storybooks these past few years. I don’t know why it has enraptured him so; I would think he’d be tired of it by now. But he isn’t, and he plays pretend with Arra all the time, the two of them taking turns between being Maisie and the attacking elves. I’m not entirely certain Arra grasps the point of the game, but they both seem to have fun, and it keeps them out of my hair for a few hours at a time.

December 3rd, 740

Brian, Alyss, and their children came by to visit today. Their firstborn, Jonathan, has two little sisters now: Ailis, who is a year younger than him, and baby Keely, only three months old. The children are glowing with health, but Keely’s birth was hard on Alyss, and she’s grown thin and frail. She and Brian put on a brave face, but I can see worry lines have started to etch themselves into Brian’s brow. I’ve been giving her herbs to help, but I fear they aren’t doing much good.

Every night I pray to Raphael, the angel of health, to restore her and keep his brother Azrael from visiting. I don’t want Brian to experience the same pain I did — the pain I still do — from losing a partner. And Alyss herself is like a sister to me. If she leaves us…

No, I can’t bear to think of it any longer. I want to write about happy things, happy memories to keep and cherish forever.

I helped teach Jonathan how to knit while Brian, Alyss, and I caught up. Even though he’s still so young, Jonathan picked it up quickly. I bet he’ll be knitting his own blankets before the year is out!

Apart from Alyss’ health, the family is doing well. They told me all the village gossip I’ve missed — tactfully leaving out any relating to me, of which I know there is plenty. They asked what I’d been occupying my days with, and I told them I had thrown myself into the close study of my herbs. That’s not entirely a lie. I have been experimenting with different plants, testing the effects of various mixtures made from them, and trying to breed sturdier stock. Even so, it never gets easier to deceive my family.

After Jonathan finished his first knit square, he said he had made a gift ‘for my favouritest auntie’. I’m his only aunt, but it still made me tear up to hear. He pulled out a bracelet and handed it to me. It was made from seashells strung on a leather thong. I marvelled at it, for I hadn’t seen a seashell in years. When I was a little girl, Father would bring them back for me whenever he travelled to the port to sell wools, but had stopped as I grew older.

‘It’s beautiful’, I told him, and immediately put it on.

As we all continued to talk, I noticed Brian had been quiet for a while. I looked over at him, and he was staring hard at the lid of my blanket chest. Horrified, I realised there were deep grooves from Arra’s claws scored across the wood. Brian’s gaze swept over my home, landing on the table legs that were pocked where Sleet had gnawed them and the hearth where more talon marks had been etched into the stone.

‘Tip-Toe!’ I cried hastily, wincing internally at how shrill my voice was. ‘Such a naughty cat, scratching and biting everything.’ I gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace.

‘Oh’, said Alyss obliviously, ‘you should rub pepper wherever she tries to bite. I had to do that when Jonathan was teething and wouldn’t stop chewing on the edge of the table. Worked like a charm! He still hates pepper to this day.’ She laughed as Jonathan scowled.

‘Hmm’, said Brian, still staring at all the dragon evidence around my house.

I don’t know whether he actually suspects anything, but I doubt I will sleep well tonight.

January 27th, 741

Winter has come down on us full force yet again this year. The snow is up to my thighs, and I feel more like I’m swimming than walking when I wade out to the barn to feed the animals and check on Sleet and Arra. I left them with a small mountain of blankets and clean hay to help them keep warm. While the cold doesn’t seem to affect Arra too badly, Sleet shivers his way through the winters. I should probably have given him a more appropriate name! Once spring comes, I will have to find some way of constructing a fire-pit in the barn that can be kept well clear of any hay.

Despite this, they’re both holding up surprisingly well. Neither seems to be going hungry, so they must still be finding enough prey.

Several more of the village’s sheep have gone missing, as well as three cats and a dog.

I choose to believe it’s not related.

February 2nd, 741: by Sleet!

Sarah has been teeching me how to rite! She sez it to keep me ocoo-pied and don’t bug her wile she helps Alyss. I never met Alyss but Sarah sez she is nice so I hop she gets bettur.

Heer is a pick ture I dru of my brother Arra. We don’t look the same, but we r still brothers. I luv him and Sarah LOTS and LOTS!

Someday we will be heroes just like in my favrit book!