It is a long time, it feels, since I kept watch on our tower. It feels lonely being at the very top with no company, but it is not a sad loneliness. It is that feeling of being the only one looking out over the lands. I like it. I feel closer to my gods and blessed goddesses here. And, thank all of them, I feel at home again rather than a visitor. The chill air woke me as Sunrifter faded from the sky. The first stars were straying across the sky looking rather like initiates wandering through Dundee to me. The shadows all seemed to have depth and clarity to them and I watched the land change shape as darkness fell.



I find it easy to think here in the dark. Thoughts are like companions and I have the leisure to stretch them out and really look at them properly - see what they really mean. Strange how some thoughts, when you look at them, seem so much less than they did when they were first picked up and felt heavy and how some, seemingly insignificant in themselves, turn out to be so very, very important.



My mind turns to Shirila: There is something I have thought long and hard over. My conclusions are sound - I will do what she has asked. There is still something…. hesitant somehow in her about it. Not the act itself, but….I don’t know - something. But that she is settled I can clearly see. She may not be frothing over with dizzy happiness, not in front of me anyway, but she feels safe and comforted. And very sure that it will ever continue. People’s happinesses are very different. This brings warmth to her soul and comfort to her heart. I wish I could hear her laugh instead of sigh though. I must talk with him and soon. Patience is a hard lesson to learn.



I feel that little pang returning but I dispel it with a sigh that lets it travel away from me along with the cold, sharp mist of my breath. Despite that tiny and brief sadness I hug myself with my cloak wrapped tight about me and think other thoughts; so momentous and so precious they can stem any darkness and I smile.



Thoughts are good but they are not arms to hold us. I wonder if they look out over the same sky keeping watch somewhere. I would like to think so rather than being below the ground in the treacherous places. I will close this book now and my eyes and try and stretch out with my feelings to them. Will they feel me across the dark distance?



How silly that sounds.

Not quite what I had thought. As I last closed this book I was ready to go to the temple. Before the cover had time to softly seal these pages the Crier’s voice rang out that Verthedge was under attack. I confess I hesitated, but after only a moment I was donning armour and scrambling for my rapier. Then the Crier’s voice again that all was well. Well I hardly knew what to think, I hesitantly sent a message off to Knight Azure and answer was sped straight back that no, all was not well. I was appalled that I had waited then and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. A few days rest has done me nothing but good for my legs felt strong and carried me swiftly. Then as though the gods were sporting with me my path carried me past Skyls who was easy and fluid in himself as ever. I did not stop but sped on with my mind racing still further. Before long I was in the mountains and in my haste lost my way and headed towards what I perceived was Miranda’s temple. Where I had imagined I had travelled to was not where I was. Puzzled I came to an impassable place and retraced my steps when suddenly I was faced by my old nemesis yet in a distended, mutilated form; with greater hooves and evil exuding from it. I was so shocked to find it in this place I can traverse reasonably safely I stood just gaping at the thing. Its first blow soon woke me from my trance. The pain exploded through me. Only a parry that was taught me when Skyls came with me to the trainer saved me, I am sure of it. I heard a voice urging me on to ‘move or die, move or die!’ over and over again and I listened. Oh how I listened. It took all my strength to move fast enough just to avoid being hit. Then Knight Azure and her stern words came to me and I fumbled for my ring and held it aloft invoking all its strength. It had an effect - the thing recoiled - but it came back more angry and snarling and terror was in me. I tried so hard to fight it but it came. I cried out for aid and prayed and prayed to be heard. I was mortally wounded and knew the creature was laughing at me as I tried to heal myself. I tried again and again to retreat to safety but there was no safety to be had. It blocked me at every turn. Then just as I felt my life force failing me I saw Skyls through the haze of pain and the blood in my eyes. Whether the creature was distracted or not I do not know but I managed to escape behind him. Just as I thought I might be able to heal and escape I ran straight into the path of another who was bearing down hard on Skyl’s heels. Although he could not be harmed by them, they must have smelt the blood running from me and homed in on it.

I managed to quickly heal myself but it was for nothing for just a few seconds later I was sorely wounded again and with nowhere to run to. Should I be killed by this centaur or that centaur. Skyls had gone and I was left in despair until he returned with Knight Azure who wielded her weapon with a face full of grim purpose. It was over by her hand and she waited to have me up and moving and made to lead me out. With no courage left I moved away in the direction she showed me into the path of another - yet another - of these vicious creatures and I was forced to feel the humiliation with the pain of my wounds as Knight Azure dispatched the ghastly, twisted thing in front of me. Moving on again, a different creature of hideous winged fury, again dispatched. I begged for the temple - for blessed Miranda and I thanked her again and again. Skyls said he would rather thank Az and of course I did, most humbly and gratefully and passionately. Before I knew it I was facing a bear - was it demon? My pain and exhaustion would not let me see. I heard Skyls chuckle and saw Knight Azure breathe the air and look cheerful; by this I knew I was free of that awful, terrible place. Knight Azure would then not move until I was healed. I did it and she looked relieved - than I swigged potions and had to do the same again for I did not even have the strength left for that. She indicated the way to the temple but I begged her to show me, Skyls left quietly then. I do not know what he was thinking - whether I did anything wrong but I was too tired, am still tired to care. Well no, not too tired to care, but too tired to be able to pursue the thought. Being the kind and generous soul she is that brave warrior took me then to the temple without a sigh or sign of inconvenience. I stuttered and let fly more clumsy thanks and felt so relieved to be where I was. Then she did something that was as much as the fiercest of embraces; she reached out and patted my shoulder and said some encouraging words and then slipped away as I sank to the floor to rest. I realised in that very moment as I felt my consciousness letting me go that I had just been with two of the people I respect, and care about, most in the land. And I was alive. And the goddess be praised for it.

So I woke a few marcs ago stiff and bruised with a pounding, screaming headache, but all my wounds were closed and clean. I marvel again at the skills the gods have blessed me with. I marvel again at the strength and depth of feeling in the warrior race.

I cannot help but think I have been taught a slow, careful and laboured lesson patiently by the gods and goddesses that show me my path in life. They showed me a terrible darkness and then blessed me with that dearest one’s presence that bathed me in light. They left me wandering in an aimless wilderness and then showed me the home with its comfort and safety I cherish. They showed me restfulness and let me find my way back to them to go and worship and then flung me into all the things I fear most, only to bring me here, to Miranda’s temple. And it is only right I should feel so drained from it. I will travel back…later…. to our house of worship to make good my weakness. With what I have faced today at least I can do it with some sense of worth.

How will I explain all of this to them? How can I try and make sense of all of this? Though the gods show me all and ordain my path and guide me, they are the rock I cling to in all this raging evil. I believe it was their voice that made me move from under that beast’s attack. I see the red of their shirt reflected in the walls of this cave. Oh how envious I am of the communion they have with their order and yet how I love to see the comfort and camaraderie it brings to them. How, in my darkest hours, the memory of their voice, or face, or touch can bring the dawn close enough to comfort me. Even if I could think of the words I am not sure there would be any point in trying to articulate them. How could someone with such courage, bravery, wisdom and strength understand such weakness? Perhaps that is another lesson I am still learning. Maybe it is not possible.

So live with it, Vardian, for this is the man, the blessed, wonderful man that by some miracle you walk with. Always was and always will be. It is no-one’s fault but yours, after all, that you may realise things you did not used to know about yourself. Growing pains, nothing more. I even manage to shrug as I write it. And Shirila was wrong, all that time ago, thinking that does not make me weak or self deprecating. And it does not lessen him in my eyes. There is no pain that I could feel, longing I could have or wish that I could make that could be great enough to dim my love and my knowledge that I remain the luckiest of all women.

Dear gods - how dull I must be. Did it really take all of this to realise it?

I am surprised how long it has taken me to settle back into my home and its walls. When first I returned it was a strange feeling. It was so good though to stand in our courtyard once I had got over my hesitation about talking the village road at all. Everything looked spic and span; the paths swept, the sun spilling over the stone. I almost felt as though I had strayed into a dream. I had thought to go straight to the House of Worship, so at home do I always feel there, but I did not feel ready. I was almost relieved to find no-one home - all my dear brethren out and about doing all those things I love them for: training hard, healing the sick, transporting folk here and there and unlocking secrets for them, defending the lands and its people, offering their wisdom and friendship to those new and old of the land. The very lack of folk made me feel guilty.

I strayed along the walkway almost in a trance as my senses remembered the beautiful colours and scent in the blossoms. It was a lovely heady, drowsy, almost magical feeling. I know they did not, would never, but I imagined some sort of reproach in the Guards’ eyes as I passed. That may just have been for not having greeted them properly…after all I had not seen them in many weeks. That is what I will take it as in any case.

I felt very small as I entered the great hall and lowered my eyes to pass through quickly. The images of old Kimald seemed to scrutinise me. It is, and always will be, a daunting thing to think back on the old Kingdom: on what it went through and what wounds it bore; on the scars it let fall to the survivors as it fell. I often find my fingers straying to the badge on my cloak still not quite able to understand this trust that those from such a past place in me. It scares me and yet I cherish it. I let myself to the dining hall and fetched a simple supper that I ate alone at our table. The place was clean and warm and bright as ever, but the portrait seemed to look out at me covered in loneliness despite the fair company it keeps. Its dear face seemed imprisoned in its frame and looked at me with regret. Wherever their soul is they must know they are not forgotten, could never be forgotten. The room has not been used in too long. Six years will soon have passed since the survivors banded together as a guild. We should have a party. Perhaps open the dining hall and guest room… I will speak with dearest Purazon about it. Perhaps my Lord JKD may return from his travelling by then. It would be good for the room to hear laughter and smell good food, feel the warmth of the fire and perhaps hear some tales and songs. And good for us too.

So having cleared away the evidence of my meal I finally entered the guild quarters. It had its usual busy look of hurried abandonment about it and I smiled to see it. There was a hastily half-eaten meal whose consumer had clearly been called away in a hurry. Several maps lay where someone had been pouring over them perhaps planning some expedition to explore or train. They were carefully laid out and weighed down with dull crystal paperweights. The beds had been slept upon rather than in and not quite made as straight as they should. Heaps of cushions were abandoned by the fire where brethren had been sat relaxing or retelling their day to each other. Seagull plume quills and parchment everywhere and empty mugs and plates scattered about. Surfaces left seemed to be dusty or to be covered in quill sharpenings; folk have been too busy to worry over the housekeeping. I did not clear up straightaway. I could almost see their ghosts bent over their work, teasing each other, quizzing each other, reading, writing, just being there. I slipped off my gear and stowed it away neatly under the bed and curled up in the memory of my brethren’s presence.

In these days I have not yet been above stairs in the tower or left its sanctuary. I have occasionally gone down to the pantry and eaten something although I am not really hungry. I have washed out my robes and taken a bath. I have lay on my bed and thought through many things and of many people. And I have the guild quarters gleaming and tidy. Everything restocked and in its place.

I have not seen a soul since my return although I know watch will be kept atop the tower, work will go on in the library and that folk may have quietly come and gone as I slept.

The terror is gone. I still keep longer hours with less sleep than I did for fear of it returning. I still see shadows and ghosts behind every wall. I still hear voices speaking to me in the dark hours with words I cannot quite hear. I can erase that if I bring another’s voice into my head. How I long to see them. How I feel their presence sometimes if I lay still on my bed and draw my cloak over me instead of the bedcovers. When I do that I feel alive and well and fresh as the mountain air. I feel tall and strong and able to do anything.

And it makes me feel ready to return to the House of Worship to face my gods and goddesses. I will lay myself utterly open to them. I will pray for guidance. I will pray for wisdom. I will pray for all those I love and I will pray for myself for I have things I long for. Selfish perhaps, but if all else in the land may be prayed for, why not myself?