She found me. Where he did not, she did, and she had spoken with him. Cleric she called me. In my darkness I did not know if she were real or made. I asked her favourite colour and was then so ashamed. She had soup for me. Who else but the real Knight would? She laboured to have me from that dark place. I could scarce breathe. Then she said that those I followed were in the Inn - and so they were. Seeing them was strange. It has been a long time. To see them both together was, as ever, a breathtaking experience. I am pleased for Lucius of course - but more for Pallas. not just for being runner up, but for seeing him and his lady love sit so easy with each other in the same room. I stayed on my feet the whole time near the door. It was too much to think this happy time could last. Demons in Caernivale. We rushed to the call. It felt uncomfortable. I felt like an initiate out of her depth. Yet my hands remember how to heal. That is important. I feel so drained. I stumbled across this place of literature and here I will stay. I have a pile of books to read and read them I shall. I shall not feel guilty about it. My soul needs time to heal, not my body.

I heard a voice....an echo..... it said it was real. It said it was true. Then other voices.....clashing weapons, distressed animal sounds..... then that voice again. I needed them. I could not tell if true or not.

I asked them a question only they could know and challenged for an answer if it were really them.

Answer came there none.

New vigour found and then torn away. Torn away by the Dark One and the Dark Land and the....blackness. And the sight - that terrible, terrible sight. That place I approached so nervously and yet with such happiness so long ago in the light, now the worst sight I could ever see. It haunts me so I cannot sleep. It stains my memory. I had thought I had seen the worst as a young one, but I was wrong. I cannot move. I am chained to this place. How I long to see them. I need to see them. Then perhaps I can believe this is a disgusting untruth.

Many, many months is it since I have written here. Too long at books. I am telling myself this but at the same time I cannot truly think it, for if it were true, then that dearest of ones is also at fault and I know them not to be. I cannot imagine they ever could be.

Yet when I finally left my sanctuary having donned my armour, still smarting at the heat and the weight of it and the discomfort of carrying my shield and sword, I found the real meaning of what it is to neglect the lands. No adventurer did I pass. None answered birds. The lands were as cold and empty as the Dead Zone itself. And then as I entered the forest I began to feel I had fallen into slumber in the Dark Lands by way of accident for I have never seen so many demons. Spiders at the cave, demons on the paths, entering Milltown creatures foul and unwelcome. The desert overrun with demons, scorpions and the gods now what else. Demons at the wall, under the wall, in the wastelands. I fought and fought as hard as I could having first answered a call to that sacred City, Branishor. I was passing demons by that I could not fight without a thought which I would never usually do without ensuring I or another could guard them until properly dispatched. But there were so many, and some so foul, I could not afford to stand. I thought it better to dispatch those I could. Besides, there were none to call to aid. Coming into Branishor I was beset with vile enemies – demons of such strength that even with my holy ring I could not conquer them without their blades and teeth and bile biting into me forcing me to run for my very life, heal and try again. Finally it was no use – I met a brave roguish woman indeed – far, far stronger than I - who urged me on as the creatures were too cowardly to fight her. There was another, she told me. But I let her down. Tired as I was the foul thing I was trying to bring down trapped me and stopped my attempts at flight until it had the savage delight of destroying me and throwing me to the mercy of my beloved gods.

So tired was I, so utterly wasted that I fell to the ground and into an exhausted unconsciousness. When I awoke again – I do not know how much later – all was quiet again. No demons – all quelled. And just a few message birds – a very few – and yet so very dear. Ixon – dear Ixon – abroad and well. Topaz who I would hardly dare to face so long it seems since we spoke. Naridith and Bris – dear dedicated brethren.

But not that one, longed-for message.