The book looks brand new and well cared for. The owner obviously takes a great deal of care over it and if you glimpse the writing it is neat and tidy. There is a large bundle of paper attached to it that seem to be covered in writing, some looks quite old.
Wednesday, 13 May 2015
I hardly know where to start it has been so long (again) since I turned the pages of this poor journal. The paper has become dry and brittle in the dryness of the dark places I frequent. My skin is paler than ever and my eyes somehow wider from being in the darkness so long. Where there is darkness light waits to break through it and destroy it, but that light is only to be found in my heart. And, oh, how bright it shines. The past days have taught me as never before of hope. Hope, faith and wonder at the beloved gods and goddesses of the land. Prayers and hopes answered leave me daring other hopes might not be out of reach. I can now almost hold out my hand and touch his dear presence, despite his long absence from me. Even in this dark place I can feel him near. When people talk of those departed from the land it should never be without hope, unless they are turned away by the gods and goddesses themselves – in that case, all hope is, and should be, gone. How do I know this? How do I know this and that the gods are listening indeed? Because Jake is returned. My blessed, scampish, loyal, fierce and devoted Kimaldian Jake is returned. My brother, my friend, my saviour at times and my protector at others is returned. Not just from those that have seen him and talk – a message. Simple, yet giving more joy than most things. And if he is returned, then others may return. So apart from prayers to keep him safe, as with all my dear brethren, and for the Queen and all who protect her, my prayers turn to that most noble of knight protectors, that dearest of men. May we come to each other’s presence soon. Oh how hard I pray.
Vardian posted @ 08:44 - Link
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Wednesday, 22 January 2014
I realised I have no concept of what season we are in and that all light seems bright; too bright. I have exchanged messages with my dear brother Ixon - who still calls me sister. He has had messages, and though hurried, they were well written. It means they are alive. It means they are well. I only hope the same for my dearest of brethren.
Vardian posted @ 07:58 - Link
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
I have spent so long in this blessed place that my eyes cannot bear the light outside. I feel at peace here, but my life is in suspension. I have seen no one, heard no voice. not even my own for I pray in silence. I pray for direction, I pray for the guild and I pray for one who I cannot seem to reach with my heart or my voice. Dead or alive? I believe alive, for I still breathe. I am lonely. So very, very lonely.
Vardian posted @ 09:04 - Link
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Thursday, 18 July 2013
My fever continues to rage. I have taken tea and soup but have kept away from all. In part, I have no wish for others to grow ill, but also I want to news of my appearance to reach those I love. They have so much more to concern themselves with. It must, surely, grow near to Summerfayre time. People want joyful tidings - nothing else.
Vardian posted @ 11:03 - Link
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
I have never felt so sick. My bones feel tired, my head aches and I do not know if I am hot or cold. Food will not stay down. I feel weak as the newest plain cat kitten. I cannot even pray.
Vardian posted @ 04:30 - Link
Thursday, 16 May 2013
So he has flown this coop and no doubt feels happier up and about and where he should be; at duty. At learning.
I am so glad he is well.
Yes, I miss glancing up from my own work and always seeing that beautiful face. Watching him sleep. Seeing his strength return. What a rare gift that is. I will take that as a sign of our 6th year together passing, though in his favour I do not believe he even knew. I kissed his brow as he slept. That was my gift to him.
Vardian posted @ 06:35 - Link
Sunday, 12 May 2013
I am so relieved - I really thought I had lost my journal, but it was here all along.
The room was empty wqhen I awoke - that must be a good sign....
Vardian posted @ 05:55 - Link
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
I am so very tired and yet it matters not. I had not expected to see them so. Both sent spinning from life over again by those foul creatures on the Royal Road. Too close! Too perilous! But oh my heart would burst from seeing this fever upon them – and yet continuing as always to be in control. Always duty, never self. Nothing could hide the weariness in them or the wet upon their dear face from the heat that consumes them. The labour that even breathing seems to take is written upon them. I think it hits hard for they are not used to sickness. Not they. The very fact they allowed themselves led back to the quiet of the halls. To be lain down and soothed. The relief seemed tangible on their face. They have hardly moved; hardly spoken. I keep hot sweet tea and soup and stews ready, but as yet they cannot take them. The cool damp cloths placed on their hands and face seem to help. Even if they do not know I am there I fan them with the gift I was given and read to them. I found myself singing softly too, but I have stopped that.
When I have had to move to relieve my aching limbs I have been at work so that when they get up, their boots and armour and weapons are well tended.
This is a strange thing indeed – for it now feels as though they were gone but a moment. I am with them at their side and yet they are pulled down by sickness. I know my prayers will pull them through. They must.
But hope I must cling on to, for I still wear it. With so many brothers returning to the land there MUST be hope! El Gato, Ferno, Boy….all back with us. How I have yearned for them all. Perhaps JKD himself may return….. but that is hope I do not wish to encourage for the despair would be hard to take.
I must make more tea – just in case.
Vardian posted @ 09:46 - Link
Thursday, 21 March 2013
Though I have not yet seen them we have spoken. There are signs in them of something being wrong; something that has changed since they went away. I cannot be sure, but I sense some fever or illness. I am, it is true, little use to anyone much of the time, but I do know healing. I am going to read up and then later I will seek them out. I will seek them out and see for myself whether my fears (on so many things) are unfounded. I have prepared things to take. I have warm cloaks and furs, teas and soups. If I am wrong and all is well, then all to the good. They shall be enjoyed just the same I think. I long to hear their voice. I hear it often in my dreams, but I need to hear it; feel it dance on the air and wrap around me. Words like caresses even when they speak of everyday things. There seems too much time passed between them and me. Theirs has been filled and mine has been, perhaps, wasted. I am terrified to see them again, and yet terrified of not.
Vardian posted @ 10:30 - Link
It was a difficult letter to write, but it had to be written. I had to try to explain. They return calm, matter of fact, their duty done (well this one anyway) and have no idea what horror I have been through. I needed to try and explain too of another matter which brings me great disquiet and shame and stops my rest.
They are returned, yet I have not seen them. This is just the same as ever, I half smile to think of it. It has ever been our path. Just out of reach. Duty's servants.
But they are safe. That should be enough.
Vardian posted @ 06:54 - Link
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
News - news that I should be overwhelmed with joy to hear and yet I feel almost anxiety.
They are safe. They are back from where they have been. Nothing was as it seemed - thank the gods. They have sent word.
And El Gato. My old friend, my dear brother, also returned to the lands once more.
Please, heart, take courage and be glad.
Vardian posted @ 04:41 - Link
Monday, 18 March 2013
Being at prayer these last long days would usually have calmed me. I confess it has not. It leaves me uncertain of many things. Uncertain of my future, uncertain of where my path is leading me. It takes me further away from those I love and seems to narrow so that there is barely room for one to walk it. It is overgrown with brambles, and weeds choke it so it can hardly be made out at all. The shadows fall over it to the point where all is dark.
How I long for Starling's quiet dark - if I ever knew where it was.
I should not be here in this room; it deserves no such presence.
I think I will take myself down to a different place.
Vardian posted @ 09:43 - Link
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Beware of the Blue.
Caught off guard by the thought of news I have spoken foolishly - I should know better than to try humour. Inbetween tears of hope and relief from her message and blessing the one she had introduced me to, I think I have lost someone.
I managed the blessings; I managed to drag myself here; I sit in this room I have not known for many months, even years. If these tears do not stop I shall dry up like a dying flower.
And I do feel so blue. Words have many meanings. Beware of the blue indeed.
Vardian posted @ 06:32 - Link
Wednesday, 13 March 2013
So it begins. It took some time to find my way back there, but find it I did. Terror and anguish mixed with hope and endurance and trust in my gods (for what else is there).
I fought my way to that place and desperately searched among those sad and pathetic remains. I saw no writing that reminded me of any I knew. A good thing perhaps. A bad thing in another way - for are they in those deeper, darker places? I fought on. Just keeping my balance took all my strength and the creatures that by some dark design are sure footed and nimble took all my courage. But I fought them still. I confess I used the gods blessings on myself - I felt I owed her that much. Yet this place while hard, is not impossible for my skills. I just wish I did not expend so much of my powers to stand still. Up and up, down and around. No sign. And yet there was something. Another tattered page. Speaking of a cleric in terror. Oh how I wish I knew what they had seen.
Beware of the Blue.
This troubled me greatly and I simply do not know what it means.
I am battered and bruised and my strength so utterly spent that I had none to retreat and have been flung away to take life anew. I am sure I had traversed and explored all places, but it is so hard to tell in the deep shadows and moving surfaces of that place.
I return as soon as I am strong enough. Perhaps I missed something.
Vardian posted @ 08:57 - Link
Tuesday, 05 March 2013
I think I am ready. No apologies for time spent in prayer for Cory knows I will need His help! Still I cannot make out their dear words. Still some phrases evade me. Each stain on the parchment, each rip and tear, I feel as though through their, and now perhaps my, flesh. I have provisions in plenty, though I have been careful to pack only those stuffs that do not need heating. I do not wish fire or the smell of warm food to drift from my camp and call unwanted visitors. Trouble enough I am expecting to see.
I have been quietly practicing the art of shelter making that Richard tried to teach me so very long ago. I truly do miss him still and especially at this moment. He would have thought nothing of what I am about to do except to advise me strongly against it. So it was all those years ago up in the mountains. Still I can hear my voice echoing around the pass and reflecting back to me from the great doors if I close my eyes and concentrate. That is another place I have been dwelling on but I know it is not possible for me to go into there.
I have had to leave my books behind - they are too heavy to carry and I must be agile, I must be fast and able to move lightly. I have placed them into my bedspace in the guildhalls. They will be safe there. I thoroughly dusted and polished throughout too - in case they should return unexpectedly. I have prayed in our guild house of worship. I felt overwhelming sadness. There were so many rose wreaths there. I made sure those that were almost dust were tidied away and made a fresh one for our lady's head. I felt tears slide down my cheeks, yet did not feel them in my heart. I feel as though emotion is spent, yet the outward signs are somehow still being made. I just wish I did not feel so cold. I am so glad of my old cloak. I will be gladder too before long I imagine.
I have a worry that I cannot bring to anyone. I feel my outer shell hardening. I have not felt like that in a long time. It is not as bad as then and I do not feel in danger. But I dislike this passivity that creeps over me.
How far away and long ago does Ethucan sunshine feel. All is not lost - when I think on that, then I feel a glimmer of warmth and the smile I feel upon my face is true.
Vardian posted @ 11:22 - Link
Wednesday, 27 February 2013
So far, I have found or seen nothing. I do not know how I can say such a thing when I have been blessed with Knight Azure’s company. So caring and generous is she. She came across me as I trained in the hunting preserve. She had already recommended it; little did she know it was already in my mind. Were it not for her though I would not survive long among these creatures. She took me and bought me temple forged armour. I felt somehow disloyal – dear Topaz gave me the Imperial scale – and in the event I had no choice, as Azure refused to take it, but to sell the armour for I am not strong enough to carry both. I have kept the coin safe though and will return it to Topaz as soon as I may. She will use it to help another I am sure. Although the armour is not with me, its legacy will live on that way. I will never part from my rapier unless I have to though. And that weapon must always stay as mine even if I am forced to lift another. His necklace went back to her hands but this weapon is too precious to part from.
There is no news of that dearest one apart from that letter rent asunder by the gods know what. I have turned it over and over in my hands and even more so in my mind. It tortures my dreams and waking hours. I have looked at the teeth and the blood and had to draw some conclusions as to where to start. So far even in this place of tearing of flesh, teeth, blood and death I see no signs. I must push further to places I should not go. For logic tells me that they would have no problems in traversing this place, dreadful as it is for me. No, it must be somewhere where the beasts are even more…..destructive. I have replied quickly to Brisingr’s letter. His concern is a burden to him and thus to me. He only hints at things, but I am sure he suspects.
I must pack my things and make ready for journeying.
Vardian posted @ 10:25 - Link
Tuesday, 19 February 2013
And so I have advanced. I feel no different, but others tell me it is of great import. I should feel such joy, or perhaps pride. But I confess I do not. I feel.......as though I have done what I ought. In the end no one was there. How I would have longed for that dearest of one to see it, but it was not to be. Who knows when it might be that we will see each other. Conclusions - so easily and terrifying to draw. But what else is there to do?
Vardian posted @ 16:51 - Link
A reply…. But oh! What a reply! My heart feels shrunken and flutters in my chest. I dare not sleep for the dreams that take me are so frightening and so terrible I fear them more than exhaustion. The letter, when it came, is bloodied and battered, bruised almost. It is ripped and savaged. What of the one that wrote it? What have they faced? Do they have the same fate? Are they bloodied and bruised? Oh Cory may your light be shining in whatever dread dark place it was sent from! Ben may your strength be with them there! Miranda, may your wise comfort envelop them! Carol may your mystery find some way to bring them home safe! Jane, may your forthright duty be in their heart! Julia may your radiance dazzle their enemies! Darren, may your displeasure be felt in the hearts of those that would harm them! Oh please…… please let them come soon…..
Vardian posted @ 10:22 - Link
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
I sent a letter today - I felt anxious when I let it go for some reason.
It was good to see the new forge at Shieldwall. The clear mountain breeze and the scents on the air did me good. As did equipping a young one for battle and talking to the Poet's cousin (though I found myself blushing at the subject). I blushed again at the attention and language of another, but I will not dwell on that.
When I looked in my grubby training record it was with surprise I saw I was able now, if I choose, to go to the trainer. Perhaps not yet...I would rather wait in hope a while longer. At any rate it will be a long time before I am able to visit the further reaches of the great temple.
Vardian posted @ 11:31 - Link
Friday, 01 February 2013
How long it is since I looked in these pages....
And so I have raised my head from my books. The new library is such a wondrous gift to us all – there is so much to learn. I confess I found it difficult walking under that gateway into Her house. Memories overwhelmed me for a moment. It is always the same when I have spent too long in walking and too little in my duties. It is as though the past raises its head as though to chide me for my complacency. Sometimes in dreams the detail is so exact and so real I am back in the places and times these memories come from. Trapped there too, for even though sleep eludes me so often, when these dreams come I cannot awake. I think I know why the books and the places of learning have become so precious to me; I feel closer to that dearest of ones. I know that, even when in other duty, their mind is never far from learning and study. I imagine a communication in the pages I read between them and me. I do not care if this is foolish; it brings me comfort.
Yet with these feelings running to my mind like a high tide that might swamp me, the gods gave me hope and blessings indeed. My most precious brother (for still and always will I call him) Korba. Korba’s voice and messages on the wind. An artist now. Still he does not seem able to settle. But then with his map making abilities I am not surprised to see him turn his talents to something so creative and beautiful. I long to see him. I long to hold him close, to tease him, to drink pirate ale with him, to……. Just be with him. So long ago he walked out of our halls, yet as painful as though it were yesterday this is to me. But he is happy – and that is more important than anything I feel. I thank the gods and goddesses for it. Dear Sorynn too – how I miss her and our great poet. I am bemused, in parts, by my meeting with her cousin. Something in his questions was…. I cannot put words in place to explain. Perhaps all will come clear in another meeting. I hope he can meet with dearest Purazon – how much that would teach him!
And Knight Azure – as kind, as generous, as funny, as fierce, as dutiful as ever she was. Thank the gods that some things in this land do not change. She is constant and steadfast, loyal and true. A gift from the gods to us all along with our brother. To have news, however brief, is such a relief. Do they think on me? Can they recall my face or my voice? Do they know I pray for them constantly, long for them constantly? I must believe it is so. Sometimes there is such sadness in beauty.
Vardian posted @ 10:02 - Link
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
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.
Vardian posted @ 16:26 - Link
Thursday, 11 October 2012
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.
Vardian posted @ 17:02 - Link
Tuesday, 09 October 2012
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.
Vardian posted @ 16:40 - Link
Wednesday, 03 October 2012
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.
Vardian posted @ 07:59 - Link
Thursday, 31 May 2012
I must study my belt - see what tools I have. I must not let her down.
Vardian posted @ 17:30 - Link
It is so easy to feel cocooned from what brews on the outside here in the calm, peaceful quiet. Though I confess it feels rather like I imagine queuing for the wise old woman healer must have been for the peasants where I was born. The place has the look of something that has been thought about – the comfort of those who frequent this place has been a concern…. It is not devoid of interest by any means – for me far from it. Yet these rows of chairs with their ancient looking decoration make me think of lining up waiting to hear something or undergo something. It is not a restful place. I hold my breath a lot as I sit here, almost as though I were listening for something. But all I ever hear is the quiet breathing of the watchful cleric however hard I train my ears. The wall hanging haunts my dreams by day and night. It is not fine stitchwork that would make those who collect the arts gasp in wonder. It is quite crude in its execution. In some ways it makes me think of the shirt I made. The decorations on that were not as I had hoped, yet they seem to be cherished. I cherish the scene it depicts. Sunrifter. It is always Sunrifter. I have no evidence for it but I cannot help but think this hanging is a sign of what might be to come. It shows Sunrifter and a lake. I think of the Kin…Queen’s lake and I think of our dear guildhall nestling on its banks. The lake is not always quiet. It has seen terrible things. I pray it will not do so again. I like to look on it at the very last before I bend my aching head again in prayer. I like to think of water. It takes me back to the fountain in Ethucan – a time I would long to spend again. Yet even here with my thoughts crowding in I must hold on and not let them cast shadows. If they must, let them be thrown away from me as they would be if I were a light. Someone told me I was, to them, and that is good enough for me. Even here a message can be received. What joy they bring. Oh by Cory’s forehead how I long to hold more than words. Something must come soon. The air has been still too long. At least I know the warrior I met has gone off with the gods making his blade blaze against his enemies, and the young girl so new to the lands now has something to wear on her feet and something to stop the rats biting. That must be good. I will pray for them both as well as that dearest of ones.
Vardian posted @ 06:57 - Link
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
I can scarce believe how long it has been since I wrote here. So many dreams, so many marcs, so many events passing like snowflakes in the western mountain. Such tragedy, such terror, such darkness, and yet such hope. For I, for one, will never let hope die again. I wear it dear on my finger as I did some 5 years ago. Well that was longer than 5 years, but I associate it with 5 years - hope.
Hope died utterly in me. My heart was frozen. My very soul turned grey. I was as a wraith, like those creatures I have found and slaughtered, though my purpose was never evil and never from the Dark One.
And even now, of late, so it is that I feel the Dark One try and taint me again. He will not. I still believe nothing. I hear the wisdom in those around me, I understand their want of natural acceptance - no, not acceptance, rather belief - but i do not believe Elijah can be gone. That brain so great, that mind so clever, that holiness so pure, that ........most wonderful of clerics - cannot be gone. The words I have heard reported - and how it troubles me that I have not heard them myself..... was that he had lost hope. Hope can be found again. I cling to that report. I truly do.
But light - oh light can permeate anywhere.... the smallest, tiniest crack in a great expanse of dread darkness will let it through. I have been told I am a light - I could not have heard it from anywhere else but those lips. Yet that dearest one will only ever speak truth to me - so light it is. And the gods know, oh how the gods know, that dearest of ones is mine.
My light, my life. My compass, my rock. My very foundations. My love. 5 long, sweet years. As fresh now as then. I as astounded as then.
LIGHT - permeates all darkness. HOPE - greatest of all. PEACE - I see it one day, a small cottage, a vegetable garden, perhaps some animals....... quiet words, Sunrifter on high......
Oh please dear gods and goddesses.
Vardian posted @ 16:53 - Link
Friday, 10 February 2012
Oh I get so close! Yet it feels so far away! The gods teach me a lesson I am sure for all they have forsaken this place. As I pass into the town with its disturbing familiarity despite the horror to be found there I often pause briefly despite the danger to think on what must have passed, what terrors occurred to make the gods leave and to leave the people so desperate. Did the people themselves forget their gods and so were left to their fate? Is this terrible dark land a reminder that there but for the gods go we? Is it a glimpse into the future? I suppress that thought whenever it comes forth. If we believe that suggestion then for what do we fight? We fight to ensure this is NOT the future. I believe the gods allow us these glimpses to fortify us. Oh how many more nightmarish creatures must I face before my little book is full enough? As many as the gods see fit I suppose. Al least my mind is calmed and the darkness dispelled by the light of one so dear. If, as they say, I be a light it must be the tiniest glimmer indeed – yet wherever light is, however little of it, darkness is not.
Vardian posted @ 07:46 - Link
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
I have had the very strangest dreams this last night.
That dearest of ones floated through them all, as ever, and so they were good dreams. That is a comfort at least.
In my dream I was woken by My Lord JKD. “You are needed, Vardian dear” he said. There was a great to do in the guild house. At first I thought I had caused some disturbance by sleeping atop the lookout tower, but there was talk of search parties. The lady Shannara’s name was mentioned and My Lord Dagobert. Then also Jake and Captain Eldrin. I tried to shout that I had seen Jake and he was going to come to tea, but no-one heard me. I think the voices were discussing using the Magical Pirate’s ship to mount a search for something in the Eastern seas, but that he had not been seen so was perhaps using it to go to Ethucan. In my dream I saw Lunitani copying friezes from the walls of the great Cathedral of Ben onto the walls of the dining hall. I was upset by this in case Richard did not like the grandeur and so I spread straw on the floors in front of the fireplace in the dining hall to try and make it look more commonplace.
Then we were all scattered throughout the land though I cannot remember how I got to the hunting preserve. There was a booming Dark voice that spread a chill through my body and sweat to lay on my skin as I slept. It laughed and said that we were now nothing at all. I put my hands over my head to stop the noise and then realized I was being carried by Richard who was cross with me.
Then we were, in the wink of an eye, back in the guildhouse, all together in a jumble atop the watchtower with Purazon standing in our midst, Ultimate Weapon held aloft still flashing its blinding light and his axe said ‘show off’.
Now I am awake, I simply do not know what to make of these things. I think the thought I keep most is that together we are everything, apart nothing….. and that though we may yearn to see folks, their path is their own. They will find us again when it is the right time. I hope so.
Vardian posted @ 06:24 - Link
Monday, 23 January 2012
I hardly know what to write. It has been a time of reaquaintance. It has been a time of unmeasured joy. It has been a time of ...almost shock. That dearest of ones is safe and well, soft and gentle, brave and true, and delivered to me by the kindness of a dear friend. I thought I should faint from shortness of breath so dizzy did I feel with all the delight in our time. A fire, warmth, stars, words, eyes, gentle touch, love, all melt in my eyes into one precious night.
I have seen my beloved guildmates - dear Bris looking so poised and with a fire in his eyes from training; the news of talking weapons in his ears.
And then there he was. As though he had never been away. Looking lean and honed and well in himself. My hunter in green, my babysitter, my dance teacher, my brother. He brought me tea, what else? Strong and pungeant, yet fragrant and refreshing. I was so rude - I spoke presuming that Bris and he knew each other. Has it really been so very long? Well, now they are met and all for the good. Had he seen the changes in the halls? He was disparaging as ever. When we have time to muse without that first flush of shock and recognition I will ask him if he dislikes my decorations in the House of Worship.
I asked who he had seen and dearest Purazon and Knight Azure were on his lips. Indeed, he had heard the most solemn and sorrowful of news from dearest Purazon and I confess my cowardly self was glad of it. I shrivel and shrink inside to think upon it still though I cannot let it show. To bring pain to others through that you feel yourself cannot be fair. I could see my even raising the subject had caused him discomfort. Gruffly he said yes, he had seen and knew the reason for our new memorial. I hope that at least does not feel too grand for him.
We teased each other. I in my presuming ants everywhere were running for their very lives and he in despairing of his sister - I can see that last time in the mountains as though it were just yesterday.
I do not know yet whether he ever received my letters. That perhaps is talk for another day.
Oh my dearest gods, beloved godesses, oh what things I have to be thankful for this day. And believe me, I am.
Vardian posted @ 17:07 - Link
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