I have been wandering round in a daze really, if I am honest. Not a bad daze or anything like that, but time seems to be slipping past me and along with it people and events - nothing seems to be sticking. I have been healing where I can, blessing those that ask, and have been kept busy with correspondence. I have been desperately trying to get in touch with those yet to take part in the Valornian Guild Challenge. These have been dark times however and there are many faces of friends old and those yet to become friends that have not been seen in many long months. Yet I have had messages from a few I have tried to contact and so there is hope.

I have been enthralled as well with our library. The tomes that have been collected there are remarkable. For all my long years in the land I realise I am but a tiny player in a much larger history. I have read of things I never knew to have happened - not even in my most distant memory. I have had an insight into where some of the names I have only heard of as legend come from. I have had insight into where some of the foul creatures we must face hail from. The collection is nothing short of remarkable: The task of collecting these tales and re-writing them where necessary gargantuan. Dear Purazon and Korba - were there ever such dedicated scholars…

And then this of course that I hold in my hand. Such a thoughtful gift and gesture…. This beautiful journal with smooth, clean pages…. I have looked at it for many days just admiring it - not wishing to spoil its simple clean beauty by marking the pages. But my brother Korba gave this gift to be used and so here are my first markings. Looking at the page it almost looks as though it were not written by me - the writing looks neat and well thought out - which indeed it was. I have not concentrated so hard in an age. I look at my journal beside me and it looks so weather-beaten and battered, never properly bound, pages shoved into it hither and thither….. but I would not part with it for all the world. It is lived in and honest. I suppose it is as I - a muddle in places, but written from the heart, every page. It tells my history, my joy, my pain - every emotion. Sometimes I did not write in it for days, weeks, even months at a time. Dark times indeed for the owner because to not have enough spark left to let things flow onto the papers in that journal were grave indeed. Looking back, there was not much I did not feel I could put in it - private space is safe, I suppose. I wonder if that is why? And I am glad I did. Memory has a strange way of blotting out what it does not wish to have us recall. My scribing prevents that. I can re-read these forgotten and blotted out memories and see them for just that. History and a chance to look back and learn: Just like our library in a much lesser way.

This quiet time has finally helped this wretched wound begin to knit - that and Korba’s salves and the ministerings still of Shamson. I will soon be strong enough to pick up my weapons again.

I find I can bear the solitude and the long marcs very well. I have prayed and meditated and had sweet and soft dreams. And I pray for the one in them most of all. I have missed them so very dearly but I do not feel any despair in the separation. Just a sweet sense of anticipation for the moment it is over.

It was good to see her in the inn. Safe and seemingly with no after effects of the terrible thing that happened to her. It was good to see many. Starling - such a delicate and curious woman and yet with that inner strength I long to find in me. The one called Zak - pleasant to speak with yet unhappy with a choice made. I pray that his new path will bear him fruit in time - perhaps he just needs to see it. Messages I received too. A letter that brought me such relief. They are safe and well. Duty keeps them from me nothing more. It was as I wrote to them - I should have told them all and kept nothing from them. I will know better in the future. And how funny, in a way, to run into her, that dear Knight again in Dundee. Having been forced from hiding by my dear brother Korba (he will never know the debt I owe to him and I must see him soon - his message troubled me greatly) and seen her once it was good to see her again. Though we had met in the Swashbuckler - I knew I could not attend the raid they ran towards so eagerly and took my chance to go back to rest - and too soon for her to be satisfied I left. I have pondered on her long as I have prayed. I cannot conceive how good the gods are to allow one such as her to be among us. She lights inspiration in people and is the fiercest of friends. She worries too much, almost bullies in her desire to have people well, but that is because of her capacity for love. I will never know anyone like her again. Many things she is to me -

Inventive
Reliable
Open
Noble
Kind
Narrator
Ingenious
Gentle
Honest
Tactful
Amiable
Zealous
Understanding
Righteous
Energetic
Generous
Respected
Enthusiastic
Empathetic
Non-judgemental
Honourable
Imaginative
Loyal
Lovable
Sincere
Tolerant
Hearty
Enchanting
Forbearing
Affable
Bold
Likeable
Eager
Thoughtful
Esteemed
Lively
Lithe
Effervescent
Resourceful

And a good many more things I dare say. I am honoured to call her friend and will try to be a better one to her. I think of them all, the Knights, Hojo - so direct and sensible. Often makes me feel more of a fool than I manage even by myself but I am fond of him. He has shown great kindness. Knight Raffe makes me nervous - always has and always will. He is so very confident. He makes me feel very small and always as though I need a good wash somehow. He always looks well….so immaculate…..And of late, well, I have done nothing to endear myself to him. Knight Sreip - an awesome, powerful woman. I am truly in awe of her, but like her very much. I sense great strength of character. And dear Islander! I cannot express how good it was to hear from my one time brother again. I miss him - miss them all very much. But he is safe and strong and truly a remarkable legend of our times. I do not know much of Knight Alfin but his towering frame. He must surely strike fear into the heart of any enemy he faces. The dear Queen herself of course - once just Iron Knight Cordelia though there is no such thing as ‘just’ an Iron Knight. And there is Purazon. Respect and admire all the Knights as I do, it is nothing by comparison. Always was it so from my first days in the land. He was the first to befriend me, the first to show me tentative steps on this long path. And he will be the last. Who could have known how it would be. And all that was in place before anything else…..

The darkness is gone: Blown away by the Queen and her Knights and all those that bravely stood that long and terrible night. Korba’s salves and Virgil’s skill are slowly healing the wound. I am determined, now I have some strength back, to keep making gentle journeys and to gradually stretch myself. Running to the castle yestereve when Dark Portals opened was not wise. Sweat broke out on my brow and I felt faint. But I saw them wield their weapon and so it was worth it. I looked at them standing guard when it was over and melted away struck by the powerful beauty of such a one. And I slept - Long and peacefully only waking to stretch and to apply fresh salves.

So today I will go out again and find those needing help. That can be done however tired or weak I feel. And tiredness and weakness are not good enough reasons not to fulfil MY duty. We all have duties; even the weakest of us all. And if we all DO our duty….perhaps those troubled by the greater things might sleep better at night and have time for themselves.

I will go to our house of worship now and pray. It has been long since I went on my knees to commune with my gods. And now that it is light enough to see, I see I have all I could wish for. There are those with sorrow and in greater pain physically than I. There are those troubled by their path and in doubt. There are those facing great danger and those who are in despair. So what should I do but pray with thanks that I am not, and to pray for all those that are?

Whatever befalls us in the night - we need only remember that Sunrifter, by Grace, will come. He will banish the darkness and make the shadows flee to reveal the reality of each new day. Each new day another chance. Each new day a new start.

A new day is a gift from the gods themselves and I intend to use mine and seize it fast.

A little bit of writing - sending a letter - amazing how it can flood a spirit with good light. I hope when it is read it brings the same emotions the writing of it did...

I feel a little better. My body is healing, albeit slowly, though I still feel…..strange. The movement has taken it out of me. I feel drained constantly though the pain is easing. The gore wound is deep. When I have uncovered it, which has been as infrequently as possible, it is angry and dark red. The skin will grow back I am sure. Shamson told me it should. But I fear how it will look when it heals. It feels tight and looks as though it is slightly puckered. Right now I do not care. It is a relief that it no longer bleeds. The poultice I have mixed from our stores seems to have some effect. No-one ever comes down here so I am safe enough from prying eyes and kind comments. The wine is nearly all gone…. Sorynn and Knight Azure The Fable-Teller (a fitting name) were kind to get it for me. It brings relief. I washed the wound in a little of it and I hope it will prevent infection.

It is warm and comfortable here. I can easily clean up and know I do no damage to anywhere important. None of the fine fabrics in the quarters will be spoiled and none of the rooms will have traces of me in them. It is a strange place to find comfort, but the sacks used for storing the goods here are much more comfortable than you would imagine and it is dark and quiet. Only very occasionally have I been aware of distant footsteps within the halls. I have slept the sleep of the dead. Plenty to eat here too - Knight Azure will not need to worry.

No messages have come to me. But with all that has happened it is hardly surprising. I suppose this would be the last place to look. Do they know how much I have wanted for them? Their duties will ease their mind. I wish they could ease mine. I suppose there is a comfort to be found in knowing they are happy and in knowing how well they will be doing all that they must. I just hope they are safe.

It is strange how time disappears when the marcs cannot be counted by watching Sunrifter move over the skies and the stars follow in His wake. It feels as though I have almost fallen out of existence.

My dreams are unsettled - they move between nothingness and turmoil. I see red sparks and feel myself burn all over. I see Her dear face so calm and confident in the face of such danger. I hear a voice like darkness itself crushing me with every word. I see that dearest of ones, weapons upraised in a blaze of light. I see Him holding the sword aloft once more. I even hear His voice. A speck of calm and quiet amidst a storm it seems.

My strength will return and I have no doubt when it does and I leave my nest here no-one will have noticed I was gone. Just as it should be.

It is done.

Long live the Queen. May her knights always protect her and the people.

I have no resistance to that power of despair that lurks behind every human frailty and mischance.

I withdraw until I do.

And so one of the hardest days I have ever lived through ends. With it my strength is utterly spent. The wound gapes and I have lost enough blood to feel there is not enough left pumping life around my body. Still it seeps….but does not flow as once it did. Three salves I have used and it is probably because of them I live. The gods brought me back from the brink but I have not managed to pull myself away from that dangerous edge. It has taken me all the long night after slipping in and out of consciousness in the Dundee Inn to drag myself up through the forest and back to our halls. Mercifully quiet - now - the few faces I saw were easily fooled by the sight of a woman curled up seemingly asleep by the road side. I am glad I did not see Hojo. And it all started so well…..

I went to the Inn for the Tellings. I was in two minds as to whether to or not given all the previous eve’s upsets. It was as I feared. As folks gathered I saw Korba and my heart lifted and I smiled at him…. He did not see me. That is how I like to think it was: Not that he knew I was there and chose to not see me… though my hopes are, I believe, dim. Of course he had things on his mind - he and Sorynn were comparing notes in readiness for their tale. My brother looked pre-occupied - I suppose all do at present - and my sister looked radiant, though of course she would not see that, and terribly nervous. I was sure she had no need to be and I was right. The tale unfolded to a packed inn and all were entranced. Faces there were that I have missed. Young and old collected there. There is nothing as fascinating as looking around an inn full of people. Knight Azure and Jezzara and other great warriors standing so easy with their strength. The big frame of Wyf….quieter than usual I think though that may have been in anticipation of his tale still to be told. The Lady Ellyana looks as she always does - a calm sort of elegance. For all her strength there is a sort of fragility about her. My Lord JKD and dear High Lady of course - as ever a pleasure and delight to see them. The Winter Knight was also there…. Oh there were so many coming and going.

As the tale progressed I felt an overwhelming sadness choke in my throat….. such a terrible tale of love torn apart. And they told it with such a quiet passion that I saw tears in people’s eyes and even the gruffest of warrior seemed to need to study their laps and wipe their noses. It was a truly moving thing and I was so very proud and thankful to call them brother and sister. It was actually quite draining to hear the tale. No happy ending there…. All were overwhelmed and wholly inadequate was my tale following.

After such sadness I could not bring myself to add the daughter and father into the minds of those present to I chose the story of the lake and the wastelands and the desert and the great Xia. It was not near as elegantly done as my dear brother and sister, but it was done all the same and people were kind. It has been long since I have stood up in front of anyone. I think the last time was when Knight Azure talked me into Valorn Idol. I would never do that again! But the telling of a tale, perhaps, I might do again - if the time is right and the people right and my mind in the right place.

Wyf’s tale he says he was told by a traveller. I wonder if he really did or if it is from the depths of his own imagination. Or is it true….it sounds true….. a great weapon of the Paladins…. I hope it is true though such a blade would be terrible to wield indeed. I was torn from his words briefly. I thought I had seen a ghost. I saw a tall figure come in and rest by the bar. I frowned at the familiarity and felt my heart leap to see them…. And then I realised it was Skylsganin. Dear friend. He caught my eye and we just looked at each other long. He could always do that - capture with a gaze. I blushed and turned back to the story. I truly believe my face was as nothing to Jezzara’s…

It was a fascinating and engaging tale. When it was done I slipped and spent some quiet words with Skyls. He took my hand briefly and was sorry he had missed my tale he said. I have said it before and I will say it again - that man was born to be a rogue. I asked him if he were to stay….. if his visit was fleeting. I was so happy to hear his answer. He said he had missed many and that he realised Valorn truly was his home.

Topaz came in too as Wyf retook his seat and I was so sorry for her to have missed his fine performance. She looked really crestfallen though I am sure she will enjoy a private rendition.

She did not miss the last though - Jezzara had a tale to tell. It was a wonderful tale of two who had almost walked the path of their life and were settling into retirement at a quiet spot. She spoke quite fast and delivered her story with the same sharp precision she wields a blade or comes out with a witticism to silence any man! It seemed that the woman was a cleric and had a gift of hindsight able to tell her mate all he did wrong and what he should have done right! Yes all laughed - the men I noticed groaned and looked at each other in companionable understanding. The women chuckled and smiled and thought how very different THEY were to this woman. And it was funny indeed - but it did make me think….. The long-suffering man got to the end of the tale intact and had the last laugh - just as it should have been. Knight Azure looked around for the next.

Then it started. Nothing too serious we thought….some demons to be sure but it sounded like a small enough affair and was far away from Dundee….

Knight Azure raised her ultimate weapon and winked form the Inn which surprised me and a few others left West, but most, myself I am ashamed to say included, just sat around waiting for news all was clear.

But it was not. And Dundee was not safe for long - nor Caernivale, nor Fartown or Milltown, not the Wall, not Branishor, not Verthedge, not the glass building, nor the Royal Road…… I can write no more on this. There were so many raids I did not know where to run next. Everywhere I turned there was another. I killed many…. I cleared the Royal Road and Castle myself. Knight Azure sent me to Verthedge - I ran like the wind and on the way hit another huge raid in the Wastelands. My rapier shone it seemed and flew in my hand against them. Finally I was through to Verthedge and yes, cleared that too though there was one: One wretched demon that would not engage me and just stood there surly and defiant. I held him until someone came. Azure said there would be a stand-down but to remain vigilant.

If only I had known what was to come I would never have gone the way I did through the grasslands to the West. I would have returned through my beloved mountain paths. But then I do not have that gift that Jezzara’s cleric woman had of hindsight. There is no point thinking on that. So I began to wander the grasslands and as I did so I confess my mind was wandering to Richard and I wondered whether the gods would grant me sight of my dear brother. Perhaps it was this and many other thoughts swirling in my head that took my concentration. Suddenly it was too late to retreat and I was set upon by a creature I have never seen before. It was a savage mountain creature with a huge head to butt me with and huge horns to gore me with. And gore me it did. This was very different. It must be my mind playing tricks but I was there longer in that moment of life being snatched and I felt it gore my side - felt its horns rip into my flesh. I can remember seeing its mad eyes and feeling its hot breath and searing pain and then darkness.

I lay a long time in Dundee. Renoch passed and half quizzical, half concerned he pulled me up…. The pain was unbearable but adrenalin took over for it started again - and twice as hard. Again I was hither and thither but my wound was hindering me - I could feel the hot stickiness of it. It felt that every time I raised my blade it opened anew. Yet I carried on. Why was that? Is this a sense of what that dearest of Knights feels? Was it strength from my gods or am I stronger than I knew… I know not but more demons were slain. I raced into the forest to heal and strengthen with blessings the younger adventurers who were being set upon by demons that have long since given up trying to face me. They were victorious and it was as sweet a moment as if I had slain them myself. But no time - no time! More cries - the Crier’s voice sounded almost strangulated and I am surprised their voice did not give out - but then maybe the horror overran them too and gave them inner strength!

Worldbuilder Lawn - Knight Azure said to make my way to it and when I got there I have never seen such madness nor devastation. It was absolutely full - full of the most vehement evil. Such creatures as I have never seen - blood and guts and fury everywhere! And people lay dying. I healed many - it was not difficult to seek out those that needed it, everyone did…. I knelt by each as I came to them - all were gravely hurt - yet with the healing and with brother Scally rejuvenating my powers - without him I would surely have never been able to stand let alone carry on and try and help - they were gradually beaten back. I have never had to heal with such concentration amidst so much noise of battle. At first I thought I would not be able to do it. Yet the calm cleric centre was taken by the gods and managed it. I thank them, I praise them, I acknowledge that without them I would have been nothing that night. Yet as faces looked jubilantly at the enemy almost thwarted…..I felt it before I realised. I felt a crushing cold and somehow the ground felt different underfoot. Strange sounds and then I realised I could not see. And my spirit was crushed and darkness entered my heart as surely as it has entered that sacred place. I heard Knight Azure’s voice and Skyls’ voice and stumbled to them - but my strength went whence the light had already gone. I staggered upstairs to the inn and tried to keep breathing. I received a message then. I thought I had seen them in the madness that had just passed - the IRN castle…they had been there as I slay a demon… they called to say a shard was found in the earlier wave - between the mills. Perhaps that was one of the things that helped sustain me. I went to them in Milltown and saw the one who found it. Saw that dearest one discussing gravely and yet with excited fascination as another part of the hidden message was revealed. I knew then I could not remain composed and excused myself north to the healer. The healer’s face was grave and I sensed something in his eyes, but he did his best. I was well enough in a marc or so to rejoin the crowd in time to see that dearest one leave to make their reports. It must be done of course and I pulled myself upright and smiled and gave a performance to be proud of. Their leaving was too much and being close by I made my way towards the guildhall. Then though I could scarcely believe it, the Crier called again. And again. And again. And all for arms and defence for the Doorway. A mixture of misery, confusion and pain rooted me to the spot near the castle - I stumbled through into the courtyard - at first I thought my mind was playing tricks on me…. Was this just echoes of what had gone before? I was called to my senses by the Crier screaming in desperation again before even they threw their hands up and just yelled for everyone to just go to the Doorway already! This was grave indeed - never had I heard them so panicked. Having checked with Knight Azure it was the right thing to do I moved in a wave of pain to the place just in time to see a large demon die and drop something at Scally’s feet. The place was once more filled with the wounded and dying and I did the best I could….then it was clear that the demon had failed his master in the best possible way and had let us see more of the Dark One’s plan. A shard. A fifth shard. I knew at that moment that it would not matter if the Dark Lord himself now appeared. I made a few short steps and slumped in a chair in the inn weak and almost unconscious. I closed me eyes. I cannot remember what was said. I washed in and out of consciousness. I came to and heard Skyls voice…. I opened my eyes once and found Jake squatting beside me and heard Azure explaining what had happened. I managed to pass Jake some of the precious load dropped by the demons of the day and slipped my hand into his. Then I was truly spent and closed my eyes and fell into darkness.

It was many, many long marcs before I woke and the inn was dark and cold, its patrons long departed. Jeffrey just gave me a strange look and continued to clear up. I pondered all that had happened and then forgetting myself went to rise. The pain ripped through me and I cried out - I could not help it and hurried out to save further embarrassment for Jeffrey or myself.

The road through the forest has never seemed so long. I do not know what time passed between my leaving and coming to the guildhall. Not a soul was to be found - the whole land silent as the grave and seemingly deserted. After all that occurred it is no surprise. Adventurers put themselves through more last night than I have ever seen. Their bodies are battered and bruised; some are crushed in spirit by the darkness. All have seen death and exhaustion. Where should they all be but resting. I collapsed on the floor of the guild quarters and slept the sleep of the dead. That has given me enough strength to get up and wipe up all traces of blood and to now sit and write this down before I forget what happened.

The ceremony will be this day. What will it bring - will all things be restored as that dearest one said? I must believe what they said. 5 meteors, 5 shards found, yet a sixth place of darkness. What does it mean…… the Knights and the Queen will know…. they must know…..

I fear to sleep in case my soul slips from this wound, but I must.

I am exhausted, frustrated, despairing, hopeful….. oh I could scream - really I could!

I have looked everywhere - for days I have not seen or spoken to anyone as I search. I do not know whether there is more news….no messages have reached me. Have more shards been found? Have more attacks been made? What a time this must be for our Dear Queen and for her Knights - indeed for all.

I have almost crawled here to the top of our tower. I simply do not have any more strength in reserve - if there be but one more stone to turn - I am afraid, right now, I simply could not do it. My own lack of strength, as ever, makes me so angry! I must train harder and longer….. yet I cannot do everything and be everywhere! I have neglected the newcomers to our lands of late. For the first time in years it feels as though my clerichood wanes into the background. I once asked them if they would have trained me as apprentice…they were shocked I think and never gave an answer. Right now how I wish I were a warrior - strong, brave, resilient. But I am not. I am weak, exhausted, and have not found a thing in all the land to help bring the hope that I know people will be clinging to that somehow these shards and our most beloved Queen and a ceremony will lift all the darkness: Bring Him back. Oh by the gods how I hope it will be so….I need to see the light and feel the sun and even here atop the tower I cannot do it until the darkness has gone.

I have pounded my fist against the stones as though it might shake a shard from its place and let it fall into my hands - I feel so desperate…..desperate to be a part of this - to bring the evil to an end. To help Her. To do something to make him proud of me… it is not just that - not a vanity exercise to raise my own esteem and perhaps his opinion… everything falls to him. And he bears it all - all of it without any complaint. The only thing is a flicker…. the tiniest fleeting flicker just now and then of something sad in his eyes. Yet - what is the cause of that? Not his duty for he loves it above all. I wish I knew.

Dear gods I must close my eyes and rest. Perhaps as I sleep answers will come to me on the wind. You can see so very far from up here……hear all things….

What a difference a day makes……. Just a cycle of marcs.

They were hurt…not badly, but just knowing it I felt my chest go tight. They are fighting in a strange shadowy place full of unknown terrors related to ones I remember well. I feel almost as though I stand just outside their vision - just too far away to touch them or heal them. Yet other things happen that I could do something about….. it seemed harmless enough - a few small demons had slipped into Dundee. Irritating, but not…surely…a danger. Yet even as I heard the Crier’s voice I held my breath…would that be all…would there be more… and there was. A great army of them appeared all along the Wastelands Wall! Many in number and tainting that evil twisted place with a deeper darkness of their own. My mind and body was torn to race there and come to the aid of Knight Azure - she had demons of her own to fight and the ones too cowardly to engage her took her away from her task as she tried to contain them in their place. Four I took - four felt my blade and tasted death by my hand. They were not mighty, but I realised I had actually done something - actually achieved something. I had not let her down this time.

I came back here to the mountain I love. I looked down and away into the distance my eyes drifting beyond the horizon to where I know they are still. Carved caverns of darkness.

And then their words….beautiful and soft…..

Do my eyes reflect a blue sky? Only if they have light.

I do - I just need to remember it.

When my eyes opened though my head throbbed I felt a little better. Knight Azure was right - it did help. My sleep was deep but tense I think. Even as I woke I could feel my muscles clenched throughout my body and my hands were clutching the covers of the bed in the guild quarters as though they were saving me from falling. I remember no black dreams. I remember no other either, but at present the emptiness is welcome. Perhaps I was holding on so tightly to the image of them in my mind as I slept that my body tried to follow. I had dragged on my armour before I even realised what I was doing and was halfway to the tree. The Dark Land opened its arms and seemed to receive me with an evil sigh of a smile. I do not care. It is my path. My brothers came to my side - Korba so very generous with his gift of coin for the contest and Scally so kind to act as banker. It was good to see them in such a place though I am sorry they had to go there. Korba’s light is too pure for such a place and he seemed glad to leave it…. Scally seemed almost gleeful and I took a rest safe in the knowledge that he was nearby. He told me to rest easy and that he would stay. I do not think it was just a baby sitting exercise - certainly there were carcasses and blood everywhere in the surrounding passages when I awoke. I am fighting with the strength of a woman I do not recognise and yet I am more fragile then I have ever felt. It is as though I do not quite fit my skin. The physical self seems to be running independent of my mind. Everything seems to run independent of my mind. I cannot remember the last time I prayed. I feel no hope in it or desire to. There is a fracture somewhere within me. Fractures heal.

I think I need to return to the mountains. The clean air of Caernivale was a tonic and the waterfall beautiful, but my soul flies free on the mountain breeze. I should retreat a while, perhaps. I have my little shelter and I have some skills with a pot. I can survive. One day perhaps I will get to do what I dreamed of doing…. I will cook for them and we will watch Sunrifter sleep and the stars rise and I will complete the journals. Now I think on it that dream has taken on a strange kind of finality: As though it might be the last thing I ever do. Or the last thing I want to do. A final wish.

All is transient. Nothing can be relied upon. Those that said they never would leave. Some we thought could never pass have. I have seen enough folk here dashed to pieces upon the rocks of their particular stormy sea. It feels as though the lights are going out. But the stars have not yet been plucked from the skies.

It is not their fault that I am weak and there is no reason why they should see, or indeed pander to, the need I have in me. I cannot help being who I am anymore than they can help being the tower of strength and courage and determination they are. Is it so very wrong to just need the warmth of another human being more than anything else in the lands? Wrong to want it even more? Then I am wrong. All will judge me. The gods will judge me. But if they were to judge me and turn away what would I do? Life would truly be ended. I cannot think as they do. They will never be as….. transient to me as I am to them. I certainly do not judge them for it. But as darkness comes and places fall - as the blackness of despair swirls about what was once held as my rock to me - I realise not all things are transient. My life with them is not.

[COLOR=green]Hold me safe in your dear hands that I might see another day:
For I am as a tiny bird that in cold winds lost its way.
My soul is frozen and its wings can’t make another flight.
My heart holds such a sadness that I fear to see the night.
But the warmth and strength you radiate sustains me ever long;
And the joy and love you give to me will be my sweetest song.
Then one day, should you feel a sadness overwhelming you,
The song will come across the wind; this bird come into view.
I pray that it will cheer your heart and bring you some delight.
For that would be my dearest wish, Oh! Brave and noble Knight.[/COLOR]

I cannot remember when I wrote those words but they seem truer now than ever they did.

Insanity it feels like. Yet what a......... needed time. A good time. A happy time. In the midst of all that has occurred, there we sat at the beautiful waterfall rolling with laughter, applauding, smiling...... being close. Being normal. Larks and sprees........... I fel it clutching away at me as though through the very planes every so often, but it was fleeting. I clasped the hand of another and the feeling was beaten back by it. I went to the trainer. Knight Azure seemed pleased; at least I think she did. I went straight back there ploughing endlessly through the tunnels - I barely noticed the blood sticking under foot was my own again. Richard's dress now all used up as rags. Somehow I do not think he will mind it being bandages....

When I was spat out at the life monument for the second time in a marc I knew it was time to stop. I sent a message to Knight Azure telling her of my progress. She replied kindly - is all mended now? How I hope so. She urged me to rest and planted the seed of Caernivale. I was in the throne room when I received my reply - I find myself drawn there often. Yet it is so frustrating once there. My limbs feel heavy so I am rooted to the spot, yet my head feels light with the knowledge of being utterly useless. Scally arrived - I handed over the coin I have collected for prizes and we walked to Caernivale together. The banter was good...the exercise exhausting - ah these poor enchanters. Scally tells me they are turning into a trim bunch indeed these days. And so we got there to the waterfall in time to see Jessa enjoying a romp of a play precis with dear Korba playing many heroes - well - most heroically - how I smile to remember and Sorynn playing of all things a troll. And we sat and howled. Perhaps it was partly due to the need for an outlet. The conversation and the reactions to the performance seemed more than they might usually have been. Rather like over-excited children. Perhaps so, but dear gods how we needed it.

Then they both came - the two Knights. And the darkness lifted from my eyes for those marcs. Such light that shone once the mask was removed could never be crushed. Since they told me I have longed to see that face - I long to beheld and reassured everything will be alright - even if it is a lie.

But I will pray and be grateful for seeing them. For their eyes meeting mine. For the few words whispered and the answer mouthed back.

I cannot yet sleep. I will close my eyes with the thought of them here with me - I will pretend they lie here beside me. I cannot dream blackness again. I feel it wrapping about me...... under the bed.... swirling....... my mind must hold him close - my arms cannot.......

Darkness deeper than night.
Darkness sapping the fight.
Darkness taking what’s right.
Darkness squeezing throats tight.
Darkness banishing light.
Darkness crushing with might.
Darkness taking my sight.

So even the temple in Branishor. Touch the darkness……what can it mean. Darkness takes all. Knight Azure is right, Train. She spoke harshly. She should have spoken harshly. I do not deserve more.

The Dark Land is where I belong and must stay. I will train as she has told me I must. If I cannot seek her guidance whose can I seek? Yet it seems in doing so I have caused offence.

No - the Dark Land is home now. I belong there. The light in the land should not be tainted.

The beasts in the cave cut deep - I no longer fear it. I welcome it. The gradual numbness of their vile venom is a sickly sweet relief. Stagger through it….that is the way…

As I used the scribe's scroll I felt cleansed of light. It is right I used it. Stature is deserved by some. Not by me.

What is darkness? I no longer feel it to be merely an absence of light. No it is deeper than that - more stable than that. It will not be winked out in a flash. I should have known. If Knight Azure calls me - asks where I am that is, rather than just a greeting, and appears when she knows….. well then I should have known. I could not stop my face brightening when I saw him - come to join his colleague in the palace at a time of such peril. Yet now I look back - my blindness on his lovely countenance stopped me seeing behind those deep eyes. Strange - almost fear. Not fear of course - not from those two. Fear of reaction? Fear of what might follow? Words like barbed spikes. Designed to plunge and twist and rip into someone. Not by them, but in spite of them. They could not have said what they needed to say without causing this barbaric searing pain. Oh but I am more artful than I was. Did they see it? I was calm and composed before the raging torrent within me. My soul screamed at the betrayal of it - the evil, evil audacity of it. Darkness has enveloped me and kept me between Him and His soul three times then. And this, somehow, the worst of all. Not even left with His body……never recovered…… just left with His image… - and if someone is to be left just as an image - as good a one as could be raised to Him. And now taken - taken from me a third time. Taken from us all. Inky blackness - swirling darkness tainting that sacred place. Guildmen and guildwomen left to be drawn under its veil to reach their homes. Dear gods how I pray that the Kimaldians never have to face such a trial. Somehow after all that was done to replace the stones….all those that pulled together and helped…. Such a shining example of togetherness…… this is a doubly evil taking. A mocking, cold, evil…I can almost hear the laughter. I said something about ‘I see’ and nodded in understanding and quietly walked out. No tears, no hysteria, no anything: Just the semblance of acceptance. Sorynn and Korba…I think they might have been there. My feet moved without being told. My mind has closed down. All is black and dark. I feel as though my eyes have been plucked from my head. I feel I will never see anything again. Many times I have come here to think and to be quiet. Yet… now I come to ….what? Grieve? Yes, I suppose - yet again - I do. I should not have to apologise for it! I AM sorry in one way that I cannot shut off emotions or at least hide them better. It is hard sometimes to be in the presence of those who almost just seem to shrug and say ‘well there it is’ and have duty on their side. Ah but I HAVE hidden them. They do not know my feelings. I know their hearts are not cold and unfeeling - and that it is their strength that allows them to hide their pain. Is this what I am destined to become - A muted, shadowy, unemotional figure? Is that what I must do? My head throbs with the effort of trying to see through the darkness. I must close my eyes..

*As I wake I am fearful cold. My limbs ache as though I have lain here, quite still, for a long while. The stars usually comfort me; their beauty is so very rare and overwhelming. But tonight they are cold and heartless as they glare down at me. The sky is very clear. The stars hang there brooding and malevolent in countless hundreds of thousands. I feel their eyes. I see rock and a scant bare tree clinging to it. This is a mountain place but not one I recognise. I can see quite clearly in the starlight. This mountain is high: Higher than any I have ever climbed. So high I cannot see the land below. The rocks are strange…. Sort of twisted shapes. They do not have the look of years and ages on them. They look…placed. As though not quite real. More an impression of a mountain than ……

In the distance I see something shining in the starlight. A much smaller shape. As I am drawn towards it I feel my blood run colder than the night air. I am sure there is someone hurt here! Yes! Not a rock or stone, but a slumped body clad in armour bright. I clutch for my holy ring and reach the body. My mouth is wrenched into a violent scream yet no sound utters. The Sword of Valorn lies here on the ground. A crown cast carelessly aside. The face is not visible for the helm on the head is battered and twisted around. I lay my hands upon the body and use my holy ring and nothing happens. I mean NOTHING happens. Not even an attempt. It is as though I am a child pretending to be a healer at play. My ring a trinket and nothing more. I feel tears stinging my eyes. It is as it always was - I could not help Him. Not then and not now. I gently remove the helm to at least have His body at peaceful rest and not looking as it does now - twisted and abandoned. At least He can lay upon this hill. I frown - the hair is different than I recall…then the face is there before me. Eyes wide and staring lifeless, lips parted: Caught in death. It is not His face. No….no it cannot be…… I try and stand and run from this place - hurl myself from the mountain side if need be but I cannot move. My hands move to hold the face…. Not His face - that horrific enough to see….no! No! These are the eyes of the Knight……… of ……….. then it comes pouring from the helm like the drowning of light. Darkness streams out of the helm and coils around me - I feel it take my breath and lift me from the ground. Now all is gone. There is no mountain, no love in death, no love once passed, no rock or stone or tree…… just this swirling, inky darkness that coils around and about me and spins me in a never-ending vortex until my senses are deadened……until I am dead…..*