[Drufice]

*The note is written in a fine, trained hand, clearly suggesting practice from a very young age*

          The Returning

     I have given up my search for Serro. In the future I may take it up again, but for now I am at a loss. No one that I have spoken to since has seen or heard anything about him. This, sadly, comes as no surprise to me, given the nature of that damnable fool. Slippery as ever.

     It is just as well that I have returned home now, as I have been greeted by some disturbing tales. My old friend and comrade, Fjord "The Big Man", informed me of the perils falling on Hadrian lately. An eerie mist appears to have been appearing in the wake of the Roz'dha Enclave crash, and where it billows, the dead follow. Too many were lost in that war to even want to think on it, but I know it is inevitable. Combining this fear with the recent Balor's attack on the city itself is borderline unthinkable.

     With this in mind I have sent out missives to distant members of the Adventurer's Society, apprising them of the situation. Belorfin and Morgaine are both present, for which I eternally grateful. Our Red Lady, Morgaine, holds the title of Mayor now, and as such, she cannot vote at our council, though she still sits and participates in our discussion. As radiant as ever, she continues to serve this city far better than the rest of us could ever hope to. Belorfin on the other hand, is as prickly as ever. I am told he became snippy with an eccentric little Elfling by the name of Fae. Young-spirited and pretty, Fae has a peculiarity about her, but I like her well enough. She seems to be a good friend of Fjord, and I'm not entirely sure that there isn't something going on there. That being said, I'm almost positive the same is true for he and The Red Lady. They continue to be quite close, but it's impossible to tell because the damned fool never fucking says anything. I've given up trying to figure him out, and I'm settling for just having him as a warrior by my side.... and a damned good one, at that.

     Thinking of those two, I had been hunting a treasure with a small party when we entered a cave. Coincidentally, we had found Morgaine, Fjord, Michael, and Sherina all standing over the body of a slain Fae. Michael, it seems, became angry and slew Fae over an insult to his wife, Sherina. Michael is a troubled man but there is something quite strange about the circumstances of this event. From the moment I arrived, Michael was pleading guilty and practically begging for death. The Red Lady asked me to take care of the situation in her stead. I obliged. Michael seemed not himself. He was seeing shadows and enemies where none were present. I gave him the choice to plead his case before the courts, as per the law, or I would damn the law and give him the execution that he desired. This was a grim moment. I had no desire to kill the man, but his assumption that if found guilty the 14th would torture and kill him, was likely fair. In the end, Sherina was able to convince him to plead his case to the judge. Good that she had, as he ended up living, (largely thanks to a revived, if a little out of it, Fae) with a fair punishment; something rare, these days.

     I have taken interest in the development of Michael and Sherina. In a way, I see mirrors of my own life reflected in them. I have met with both of them in private, and I believe there is great value in their presence, here in the city. Sherina seems quite skilled in reigning him in, and I hope with everything that I have in me, that she can fix him. Unexpectedly, Sherina has become a good friend to me. She shows understanding in certain areas that I would never have expected. I shared things that I thought I'd never tell another soul. I had been drinking and she said somethings that resonated with my own past and I couldn't help it. I showed her your ring, to let her know that there are others that have faced similar struggles. We have been good friends ever since and I will do everything within my power to help her and Michael succeed. I offered them protection with the Society, and I hope that before anything, they would come to me for aid. They will likely be troubled for more time to come, but that is a story that I do not feel comfortable putting down on paper, at this time. It is enough to count them as friends and comrades, whether they choose to join us, or not.

    These days to come will bear more strife, of that I am sure, but it is in the Darkest days that House Aardyn shines.

     Though others may cower in the dark, We shall always embrace it.

          Aardyn

     P.S.
          I won the competition for the naming of the penguins. "Icarus and Emilia"; Names that I borrowed from an old book that madam Kryck made me read as a boy. Funny, I recall saying I would never use that information.

[Drufice]

Council and Beyond

     I called a council meeting, to check on the state of affairs, as well as discuss new recruits. It felt good to have the Society working together again, though the fact that we need the Society at all speaks volumes towards the state of this land.

     Firstly, the membership of the one they call Celeb was expedited by unanimous vote, due to her circumstances in relation to the Red Lady. I confess I don't know her very well but it seems like everyone I trust speaks well of her. Morgaine was certainly prepared to vote in favour, and Belly had no objections to her application. She was instated immediately and, despite my lack of familiarity, I have high hopes for her future with us at the Society.

     The second name put forward was that of Sherina. This one was slightly more complicated. There are certain circumstances that have raised the brow of one of our council members. This hasn't elicited a "No" but rather a provisional "Yes", pending a hearing. Her shadow situation and her history, I will admit, causes somewhat of a concern, though I am confident that what comes out at the hearing will speak to her character. I will have to speak with her to address the matter, personally. I don't want this to feel like a trial, but rather an opening of the situation. It is because I would prefer membership go through unanimously, that I proposed the idea of having her speak. In the end, I am sure it will go through.

     The rest of the council was spent discussing the hunt for Voust. We brought in Chud and it seems he is willing to work with us. We discussed areas we'd like to explore but have no major leads, as of yet. To that point, I feel I may have made a reckless decision. A decision that you no doubt would have scolded me for. I went to the abyss, within the crypts, to think on you again. While down there I had a thought. I am aware of the Beholder that shares the abyss. Seeing the amount of dead that walked it's halls, I thought that I could perhaps cut a deal for information on Voust. I have never been so shaken in my life. I had thought that casting clarity on myself before hand would seem confrontational. I was stupid. The moment I entered it's room, I felt it in me. It urged me to approach the edge. It urged me to jump into the Darkness and it felt so right. I was able to resist for a while, and after some conversation, I was told that in order for aid I would have to present it's master, Moander, with a siginificant offering of flesh. Flesh of a beast of value.

     Shortly afterwards I felt it creep into my mind again. It showed me how little will I had to live. With my own hand I pulled out my dagger, brought it to my own neck and began to cut. I have a scar on my neck now. Fortunately, a new scar for me isn't exactly rare. I will play it off as a close call, should anyone ask. In the meantime, I need to consider the deal that was offered, and decide who I will tell about th.......

*The note abruptly cuts off as if interrupted*

[Drufice]

Meetings

   Michael and Sherina came to see me. It appears someone made an attempt to drive a wedge between them, using my friendship with Sherina as a catalyst. A cheap lie. The ploy was quickly derailed, thankfully, and the three of us remain friends. Sherina and Michael suspect the Sharran, Helle, and while I admit that it is likely, I am unsure.

   We sat by the fire talking for sometime. The shadowy corruption on her arm grows. I was unaware of the gravity of the situation. Removing the arm is no longer an option, and frankly I am concerned for them. The shadows are beautifully dark and deep. She let it wash over her and I found myself lost. It was so magnificently black, and before I knew it, it was touching me. I could feel it; inside and out. Shadows and fire.

   Luckily, Michael and Sherina had the presence of mind to snap me out of it, though I am unsure of what happened. When I returned to myself, Michael was walking out and I suggested Sherina go after him.

   I am embarrassed and ashamed of my evident weakness.

   After they had left I made a decision. I would strike the bargain with the beholder, but not for Voust. I would use it for them. Who better than Moander to deal with a corruption? I made my way to the Enclave crash site, where I would find an adult Hydra; one amongst the corrupting mists, surrounded by the rotting flesh of the walking dead. Surely, it's flesh would serve as a good offering to the beholder's master. We killed it and got the flesh, but not before the intervention of a friend.

   Fjord found me as I boarded the boat. I gave him little detail on who I meant to deal with, but clearly he understood that it must have been a very dangerous deal. He urged me not to do it. I knew he was right about it, but I could see no other option. Time was of the essence.

   In the end, he suggested that he call in an old favour with Dame Averil of the Swords. He believed that if anyone would know how stop the corruption it would be them. I told him I couldn't afford to wait, but since I needed to let the Hydra flesh rot a little, I gave him a few days to try.

   To his credit, he pulled it off. He is a fine man and a good friend; I think you would like him. The Dame gave him a list of items to retrieve. She believes that it may be able to be cured with them. At this point, I am willing to chance it, while the hydra flesh rots.

   This morning, Fjord and I set off into the jungle. We were in search of the Black Unicorn, who's horn is one of the required items. Alas, our efforts were fruitless and the search continues. I will carry on this path for now, keeping the beholder in my back pocket, as a last resort.

   In another event, and you'll be struck dumb by this, I may or may not have accidentally adopted a daughter. Unbelievable, I know, but it's not exactly so.

   The Society ran a patrol at the Asylum. Upon arriving, there was a young woman running. Wearing next to nothing, she was raving mad, but seemingly not hostile. I gave her the dress that Fjord gave me, to cover her up. We couldn't just leave her there, so we brought her along.

   The poor thing had been in the Asylum for 18 years. I can't honestly say that she doesn't belong there, but in the state it is in, we couldn't just leave her there. She had information on the masters of the Asylum. The things they did to those people was beyond cruel. I could feel it crushing my heart, hearing her story, though I was doing my best to steel myself. The girl rambles and raves, but she's been through enough to crush the sanity of the strongest mind.

   In the end, I brought her back to Hadrian. I gave her some coin and showed her where to get a room. She insists that I am now her father although I am only a few years her senior. Comical, I know, but she doesn't seem to listen to reason. I suppose it's foolish of my to expect that of a mad woman.

   I set her up as a serving girl in our bar. Grano is likely not pleased with me, but I know he won't be able to resist helping. In honesty, I don't know what else to do with her; this is typically Morgaine's field of wisdom. I am yet to speak with her, but she has one of the most noble and admirable hearts in the city, and with luck she'll know what to do.

   For the time, the Society will watch over her. I hope that she doesn't cause us much trouble. But who am I kidding...

[Drufice]

Sleepless Nights

   True to form, for Hadrian, everything has be flipped ass over tea kettle. My attempts to support and keep Sherina and Michael alive have failed brutally. Michael, the damnable, tortured fool, has gone and got himself killed. Near enough killed, anyways, it seems like he's made himself a pact with a devil. Now, he will spend the rest of eternity in an endless torture. Something that could have been prevented if he had waited only one more day.

   It seems my own ward Vivili is an unwitting cause. She was consorting with an agent of the extra-planar realms. A fairly serious crime; more so, after the Roz'dha and even worse that its resulted in the death of a man.

   It would seem, however, that Michael's death was actually caused by his own foolish rage. In a fit, he bashed the life out of Vivili with the flat of his axe. A shame, as he had a good side to him, but without a doubt, the man deserved death.

   As of yet, there have been no official mentions of a bounty on Vivili's head, though I suspect that someone somewhere will be after her. Valstiir takes the 2nd Amelioration quite seriously. It is my hope that if we explain her story and tell the tale that she has to tell, we may find some leniency. For now, I have hidden her away.

   I'll need a good plan before I bring this up with the Red Lady. I'm hoping her standing will gain us access and support from one of the noble houses. We can't go to the 14th. We can't trust them.

   When first hearing the story, I grew angry at Vivi. I also grew afraid for her. As much as I can't believe I'm telling you this, I have a surprising pain in my heart when I think of what might become of her. We spent some time on a treasure hunt and she was much more lucid than I had seen her before. She surprised me with the way she didn't want anything to happen to me. Until that point I wasn't certain she really felt anything. It was a side of her that I never knew could be there. In the end, she bid me return to the city and vanished. I only saw her briefly after that, when I brought Sherina to her.

   Sherina. My dear friend, Sherina. Belly and I followed her yesterday. She was spurting nonsense and wandered off. We followed her to Michael's grave, where she knelt, seemingly hugging herself. While there, we were attacked. Belly and I turned and met the bandits head on; Sherina gave no reaction. She wasn't even aware of what was happening.

   Upon further inspection, we noticed that she was cooking herself alive in her armour. I tried to call out but in the end I flew into a panic and grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away. She began to wake after that.

   I was hurt. I was angry. I had too much flowing through my mind in one day. I had to change tactics. The girl needs to steel herself. She needs to hear the harsh reality of this world we live in. It hurt more than I'd like to admit, but I snapped at her. She's unstable and it concerns me greatly. I need her. I need her aware and lucid at all times. She grieves manicly because she believes that she is still alive, when she isn't.

   The truth of the matter is that Michael is dead, and so too did she die with him. Now is the time to stop living that life, and start living for the lives of others, because we are already dead, and the sooner she realizes that, the sooner she will be able to function as a soldier. We, the broken.

   I have asked Cashand to check on her, as she may yet be bitter with me. If it keeps her alive and restores my friend to the strength I once saw in her, then so be it.

   If you could see it in your heart, please, grant me sleep.
   

   

   

[Drufice]

Turmoil

   The past week has been reasonably uneventful and peaceful. Most of the trouble has been inner strife, but there remains some issues.

   Vivili remains in league with the Devil, Nuzu. After our hunt for Voust, a disguised Vivili brought me back to her residence at Sullivan's and gave me a key. Shortly thereafter, we were joined by the devil-bitch. It seems they are bedding; a troubling choice. I am happy that she finds this comfort, but I fear that the devil-woman will get her killed.

   I have taken measures to attempt to have her allowed back in town. I bent the truth and told the necessary parties that she is with her by my bidding. Technically I didn't lie, though it doesn't feel right. I miss her presence at the hall, though I'm positive Belorfin is quite content with how things are.

   I spoke with Cashand, the Arcanist. As it turns out, he too was in Iolaum. He made no indications that he knew of my house, though I'm positive he must have heard who we are and what we've done. To his credit, he doesn't seem to care much. If he hasn't mentioned anything about it yet, then I very much doubt he will have reason to in the future. We remain on friendly terms and I rather enjoy his company.

   Lastly, Sherina. I took Sherina, again, to my abyss. We had a picnic and spoke a while. I told her about my mother; I trust her. I even introduced her, in a way, as we gazed together into the Black. I believe that Adra would have liked her. Certainly more than she would have liked you, of that you can be sure. Nevertheless, I am sure you would like her as well. She is Dark but kind. She is accepting and affectionate. She broken and beautiful.

   My mother's proffesion did not seem to affect her in the slightest. She simply nodded and accepted the news without a hint of disgust or disdain. That meant more to me than she will ever know. Most people would see me differently, if they learned what she was, but to Sherina it seems to make little difference.

   The remainder of our time was pleasant. We ate and talked a while, alone and sheltered from the outside world, until we packed up and something happened.

   Sherina showed me her shadows. She wanted me to see her and let me feel it. It was beautiful. A deep mist-like Blackness that I could feel calling me. I put out my hand and she pulled it to her side. When I recall what happened, it is almost as if it happened to someone else. "Entranced" is the only word I can think of that describes it.

   The feel of the shadowy form was that of a tingling euphoric state. I could sense it inside of me, in a way, when I touched her side. Before I knew it, I was pulling her toward me, into my arms. I cannot describe to you how immensely drawing it was. I buried my face into her hair, as I held her. Wanted to feel it all around me. I pushed back slightly to look at her again, still holding her. I brushed my hands along her cheek and gazed down into her eyes. In that moment I wanted her.

   As I was a second from leaning in and kissing her, her shadow form disappeared. There was no shadow, just the pale, beautiful, tired face of Sherina staring back up at me; her form against mine, with a look of surprise. The gaze she offered me was not one of disdain or repulsion, and as my senses returned to me I briefly considered leaning in anyways, as our embrace lingered a moment. But then my mind returned to me.

   Sherina is in mourning and likely vulnerable. It would be dishonourable for me to have acted, if not dishonourable enough, having gotten as far as it did. I am troubled by this, as I was not expecting it. Again, I forgot myself in the Dark. Am I so weak that my embracing of the Darkness becomes an enslavement?

   "Shar is in your blood, boy" my mother would warn me. "The Black will call, and you will answer. Do not let it consume you. Though others may cower in the Dark, we shall always embrace it."

   Is this what she meant, or is this something different? I didn't drop my guard to her, she just made it non-existent. I'm floundering in the whole situation, and somewhere I can feel Morgaine giggle-snorting at me. God's only know what she'll have to say about it.

   I have to watch myself from here on out. I don't want to disrespect her, or her mourning any more than I fear I have. What sort of life would I be subjecting the woman to anyways? Would I drag her into darkness with me? Could I put her through the endless turmoil that seems to follow me around? I grow sick thinking on it, and sicker still with myself for wanting it regardless.

   Lyra. Adra. If you can hear me now, please guide me.

[Drufice]

Shadow and Flame

   The trouble piles, the problems stack, and the city moves ever forward, in it’s endless strife filled trudge. It tires me, merely thinking on it, but as I dwell I know that I too must trudge with it.

   Voust, Uldur’s body, Vivi. Each issue being slowly addressed and inching forward, yet their solutions feel as though they lie just beyond my grasp, taunting and dodging, just as I can nearly feel them brush my reaching fingertips.

   The 14th have set their eyes to Vivi and I, it seems. Somehow, they found out about Vivili and the devil woman, Nuzu. I am told by Chan that the legion means to issue a bounty on her head, but are willing to meet instead. To counter this I wrote to the Head Warden in hopes that I could explain the situation, but received only hostility and accusations. This forced me to lay my own accusations down and invite them to meet with me to hash this out. I received a short ambiguous reply and I await further contact.

   I have spoken with some others of Uldur’s body. We remain at a stalemate, until Cashand’s mentalist arrives, but have discussed the possibility of having his mind moved into a golem. Sherina has agreed to approach this topic with him, thankfully. I do not relish the thought of broaching the more delicate issues regarding that transition.

   Regarding Voust, however, we are closer than ever. The map to the key has been revealed to us, and we are nearly positive that we know where it is. Making the necessary preparations is the only task that remains, before we make our move against him. Cashand claims to have fought a powerful vampire before, and I have no option but to trust his judgement on how to proceed with it. I sincerely hope that we can close out this chapter and have it done with. Some clear space on my plate would be the greatest gift I could receive at this time.

   Though this all weighs heavy in my mind, I have found a peace of sorts, in the comforting touch of a woman’s arms. Her arms…

… and beyond.

   I took Sherina back to my Abyss. With the issue of the 14th looming over me, we thought it might be nice to make good on the promise of our picnic, in case we didn’t get another chance. We laid out the bearskins and set to talking; business as usual for a time, until the topic of “last chances" came up.  She turned to me and asked if there was anything I’d like to do, seeing as we may not receive more time. I turned to find her gazing at me. Her eyes, the colour of the midnight blue sky, the shade that one only finds surrounding the outer rim of a full moons glow. They locked on mine. When she had asked me the question I had no fewer than a thousand answers, but when gazes met, I could think of only one.

   I did it.

   I kissed her. Momentarily forgetting how to breathe, I leaned in and kissed her. I don’t know if I’ll ever know or care why, but she kissed me back and we moved closer. It was there, in the shelter of the Black and in the comfort of her embrace that I finally admitted to myself the feeling I had denied. We huddled close and exchanged a few more, before packing up the uneaten food with a laugh.

   I savoured every moment of the closeness, for I feared that she may be labeled “the lover of a heretic”, should the Legion truly prove corrupt. The walk back was one of mixed emotion. Fear, thrill, freedom. I wish I could describe to you better, how it was, but then I suppose you’ve seen me this way before. When we parted, I had thought it would subside but it remained with me until, for the first time in a long time, I fell into a deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep.

   When next I saw her, she and Cashand had been about to explore the crash site again. I gladly accompanied them and made the journey, tumultuously attempting to not be publicly over affectionate. We cleared the area and the two inspected the crystal they’d come to find. Again, I was lost in the speech of magic, but this was nothing new.

   Sherina suggested that we show Cashand the large, magic-locked gates we had found in the peaceful mountains beyond. We made for them, skirting the crater, and began to make our ascent.

   Stopping for a rest by the waterfall that we’d camped at before, the Arcanist informed us that he needed to leave. He exchanged a goodbye with us and magicked his way out, leaving Sherina and I alone again.

   In the privacy of our sanctuary, we renewed our closeness, exploring new and intimate avenues of embrace. She is always beautiful, but being washed in moonlight becomes her. She appears to belong in such atmosphere, as the moonglow shines off her alabaster skin, and reflects on the deep liquid blue of her soft gazing eye; a raven haired beauty against a veritable pallet of hues, designed special, for her.

   As our outpour of affections carried on, her body became impossibly hot. I noticed and inquired if everything was alright, searching her face, fearing some ailment had come over her. She assured me, with flustered smile that it was regular for her, upon such moments. I could mark in her countenance, so closely did I watch her, that she struggled to collect herself, as she meant to ward me from flame. To save her that strain, I reached into my pack and warded myself, for her. I had not thought the heat that bad, but as it turns out, I had seen nothing.

   Beyond that point, though the heat was soothing, she became scorching. The grass smoldered around us, as we locked together. Were it not for the warding I am certain I’d have been ignited, so intense were the rippling waves of flame. Her midnight eyes became centered by a burning flame light, as we expressed further, and the fire within became the fire without. As one, we burned there until we knew each other complete.

   As we lay in the mists of the nearby tumbling waters, cooling us and drowning out the din of  the outside world, with it’s thunderous song, I reached for the bearskin to cover us. Looking at her one last time before shutting my eyes I could think of only one utterance.

   “Shadow and flame”

[Drufice]

Where Settled Dusts Lie

   

She is bound to the stake, dressed all in black.

   
   I look down on the village, as we crest the hill. Its people meander about as their day’s work nears it’s end. I can’t help but notice my own shadow elongate down the hillside, cast by the setting sun on our backs.

   
   

Prideful, her head is held high, though she sneers back at them, half-angry, half-afraid.

   
   There, I see the shadow of father, my brother, and the countless others who join us. They are looming, ominous tendrils, reaching out; a dark herald for what is to come.

   
   

Beneath her, a pyre. The crowd gathers around her, each one of them vying for the best view.

   
   One by one, the unsuspecting insects halt in their place, no doubt peering toward the line of silhouettes along the ridge. They see us. They are meant to. We want them to see, and know. We want them to fear the Dark.

   
   

They throw various objects at her, cast their scathing words at her, and some parade around with tokens from her now slain guard.

   
   I look to my brother; his silent visor gazes back. I look to my father; he is silently watching the pitiful village’s movements progress from a stunned halt, to a panicked scurrying. I follow his gaze and can feel the rage burning hot and deep within my heart.

   
   

She curses them, her voice acid, swearing by Shar that they’ll be destroyed. This fuels the rage of the Selûnites. Their fervor amplifies.

   
   With his familiar sneer of disdain and wrath, I watch my father take up his black helm from under his arm and deposit it onto his head. He draws his sword; as one, every man follows suit.

   
   

The official, dressed in his ceremonial garb, approaches her; his torch already burning.

   
   Leveling the tip of his blade toward the town, my father bellows a command, and is answered by a united raucous roar from the battalion on the hill. I wait, eyes blazing, for the first step of his horse. It comes.

   
   

She is afraid. Tears flow as she trembles, whispering near-silent prayers to her Goddess for a protection she knows will never come.

   
   I grit my teeth with violent wrath, as I overtake my father’s steed. I relish the fear emanating from the frantic denizens, as House Aardyn and its sworn swords descends on them with a deafening roar.

   
   

The man speaks some words of righteousness, as he begins to lower the torch to the base of the pyre.

   
   I make sure I am the first to reach my victims. My closest friends galloping on my flanks; a staple in the battle exploits of Mad Ash the Black. It is effective. Their resistance is sickeningly poor, and we cut through the first defenders like a hot knife through butter.

   
   

The flames spread through the brush, igniting the larger logs and inching closer to the uselessly squirming woman.

   
   A man turns his head in fear, at the sight of the slaughter. I remove it entirely, for him. The next one drops his spear and shelters his head in fear. A fatal slash across his side, releasing his entrails, will suffice. A woman and child run for the shelter of a small alleyway. I let them pass. They all must and will die, I know, but though I am an Aardyn first, I am a knight second. My sword is reserved for the armed defenders. Plenty among us are not bound by such honours. The fleeing do not last long.

   
   

The inferno melts the fabrics of her dress and her legs now smoke, as her wails of pain and agony resound in the night.

   
   The bulk of the village is mopped up before twilight, succumbing pitifully to the raging tide of vengeance. A banner carrier rides through town. This time it isn’t the banner of House Aardyn, but that of Shar. Though we are not Sharran, it is fitting for this task; she’d have wanted it that way. He falls into formation as my father and I approach the clearing near the outside of town.

   
   

The shrieking turns to a sickening gurgle, and eventually comes to an end; the only sound, the crackling and pops of the raging fire.

   
   As I approach, I see scorched earth. A regular burn site, clad with the tell-tale stakes of execution by fire. It has been sometime since it was used, but the scene speaks of such actions not being a rarity.

   
   

Licking and lashing, the pyre burns until morning; the putrid stench of cooked human flesh long gone, as the sun rises on the smoldering heap

   
   For two years, I wondered. For two years I searched and scoured. For two years I burned with a pain I have, as yet, not found words to describe. I reach the pyre site and fall to knee, as the smell of the village burning fills the air. I reach down, removing my glove, and scoop the dirt and dust into my palm. I stare at it a moment; that familiar dead feeling inside leaving me, being replaced with unquenchable pain and anger. I touch it to my mouth and speak one word.

   
   As I awoke in a cold sweat, to find myself l laying in my bunk in the Society Hall, I find myself crying out the word in unison with my dream-self.

   
   “Mother”

[Drufice]

Rebirths

   The past few days have seen a new dawn in Hadrian, though, not all sunrises are calm and divine. This one seems more akin to chaotic and obscured.

   The 14th have pulled out of Hadrian all together. It would seem the Archmage can listen, if the voice is loud enough. The vacuum left in their wake is large with no one to fill it, as yet. I have pledged 45,000 of my own coin towards starting a guard. Hopefully, this will be somewhere to start, at the very least. Inquires on pricings and wages have been made in a few places, but so far I've not heard back yet.

   Secondly, I've found myself reeling from a falling out with my dear and treasured friend, Morgaine. It would appear that, through means not important, she found out about my past. She knows about Adra and the vengeance raid.

   "Mad Ash, the Black" she confronted me. "I know." she hissed at me with the tone only brought on by deep hurt. The quivering lip, the welling eyes and hurt stare, will haunt me for far longer than her anger ever could. My regret lies in that I could not find a way to tell her myself. Fortunately for me, she seems to have forgiven me, to a degree; more than I deserve, but I will have to take what I can get, at this point. She is as family to me. The sister I never had; one I'd have wanted.

   With the city in the throes of it metamorphosis, my greatest displeasure is in the lack of time I've had with Sheri. As I find myself falling deeper for her, I find her visage materializing at the forefront of my mind's eye; a welcome apparition for a troubled mind, though I am at times unable to focus on my tasks at hand. I should scorn myself such distraction, but in fact I crave it. I enjoy the fog. I send my thoughts wading through her dark waters and reaching for her, only to find no purchase on the ethereal form, born of sweet memory. Instead I am left with the waking realization that I am drifting in thought.

   The burning ache in my chest thereafter will often remain for hours, if I am alone. I find being with her to be easy; natural, even.  Why is it that in the life, we so often can never do the things that feel so easy to us. Constantly, we are forced onto the harder path, and pushed down the line, away from that which we would much rather have. I feel now as though the Gods are forcing me to be half a person.

   "How often do you fall for someone who sails the same oceans, and dreams the same dreams?"