9/19/2997: I, the Murderer

Previous Entry

Rucejk La’Baer ab Jujnis, 2997

I killed Bordel... I nearly killed him and surely have severed any trust he might have once held with me. I can only hope he’ll forgive me, but I won’t blame him if he never does. What room do I have for any forgiveness? I doubt my healing and apology will suffice, for after seeing him breath once more, I killed the Dryad. It was the creature who had fooled me into thinking the Cleric was my enemy.

That’s what get’s me the most... how was it I was so blinded by the spell to not recognize friend from foe? What if that happens again? It’s just another mark of my weakness and it scares me.

I won’t deny that part of me is glad the Dryad is dead. May she forever know the anguish she has brought upon me. Next Entry

9/18/2996: The Weight of the World

Previous Entry

Halejk La’Dhroo ab Jujnis, 2997

I feel myself slipping away. Or at least the good I use to see in everything is slipping through my fingers. It’s getting tiresome pretending to be alright. It’s beginning to feel more and more like everyone is expecting me to fight, to harm, to kill... at least, that is what Rora chastised me about.

A hermit Troll, whom Kimaris knew to be hospitable, gave us each a tea that took us on a spirit journey. I was hesitant at first, Kimaris promising to help me through while Bordel refused. I only accepted when the Troll mentioned to the Cleric that the tea helped answer questions we might have, “For surely you have many.”

The hot, herbal, liquid made it’s way over my tongue and down my throat, Kimaris taking a moment to surprise me. “Boo!” he shouted unexpectedly. I think I sputtered, but that moment of surprise was all but forgotten as my vision became clouded.

I heard my father’s voice first- or at least, I thought he was my father. I’m not sure. Theedain was shouting at Laeni, hurt with betrayal that she had taken Lord Remus Trophe as a lover. I looked on at the amber eyes that were mixed with remorse and pride. I saw myself too. My mother had to have been late twenties at this time, but it was no doubt I was her daughter. My own stubbornness was definitely inherited from her.

Still, my chest clenched as I realized the man I loved wasn’t my own blood. Another fault against my mother and her ‘righteous’ ways.

It took me a few moments to unclutter my mind and think clearly. It didn’t make sense why I was seeing the scene replay before me. I had no questions or doubts about my parents. And so I wonder if there’s any truth to it or if it was just a nightmare to confuse me until Rora came to pull me away.

The warrioress, the first manifestation of my cycle of Primordials, stood before me once more in the glorious robes and headdress.

“Hello again,” Rora greeted. She was warmer than I remembered her being in the vision. I wiped at my eyes and looked at her, wanting to hate her, yet wanting nothing more than to be held.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“To help you understand your potential.”

“Don’t,” was what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue as I knew what was to come. Rora reminded me of the previous days, about how I failed to be of any use because I withheld my Lyro Blade from the fight. “Sometimes you have to fight back to protect those you love,” she said.

“You don’t think I know that!?” I seethed. I was losing control and bitterly I wanted to remain stoic. The warrioress looked at me appraisingly. Her green eyes were outlined in red and after a long pause informed me that I had been conditioned for sixteen years of my life in the ways of Heironious.

“And that has made me weak...” I stated.

“No. It has given you a keen sense of what good and kindness is. All you need to do now is learn to balance that purity with your duty to protect.”

I shook my head, her words were poison to my soul. My lips trembled as I answered, “Rora. I can’t.”

With optimism that pushed me beyond my own patience, the warrioress stated that someday I would. “Do you not understand!?” I snapped, “To harm another person, let alone take a life, is my BANE! Rationally, as a Primordial, I know I could. But as those situations arose, this body, this mortal and inferior BODY, filled with such dread! I don’t know if there’s enough time in this life to prepare me to fight with the sword. Maybe I’m not cut out for this and I ought to die!”

The woman before me shook her head. Then with softness I was not expecting said, “No. I promise, you are probably the most perfect this cycle has seen. Just be patient.” And with that, Rora tossed my Lyro Blade at me. Instinctively I reached out and caught it. It felt natural, like the way I hold my pen or lyre. This weapon was something I’ve always known.

The warrioress then took my hand. I felt her fill my body and could see her life. There was great comfort and joy as my Primordial self communed with the familiar memories and understanding. For a moment there was hope. I didn’t want to leave, but soon my body called my spirit back.

As I came to, the insecurities, rife in my body, took hold as I found myself among mortals again. The anger that erupted, as my flesh recognized that it was losing the fight to my spirit, was most bitter. Those feelings that Rora imparted upon me were forgotten as I fed off the energy that loathed the idea of elevating to my potential.

I threw my cup across the room, it shattering into hundreds of pieces. Quickly I left the table and stormed out of the hut, not caring what offence or embarrassment I created.

Outside I paced, took deep breathes of the awful swamp air, and leaned against the hut. Zaren came storming out a few minutes later in a great bout of distress. I almost didn’t recognize it to be him for his hands were claw like and his auburn hair was longer. In my anger I asked if he had a foul dream too, though my language was far from lady like in that instance. He agreed, wiping his face.

With his emotions high, mine dissipated. My heart took over, ending my pity party. Probably the only good quality I have left: caring. I gently asked about the changes I saw and Zaren explained it was part of being a Shifter. I questioned if ‘Aragoth’ was just a disguise then. He mentioned it was a past manifestation. The Wizard continued to sob in spite of my pestering. I walked up to him and held a hand out stating, “I like this version of you better.”

We stood holding hands for some time, Zaren stating I was a good friend. He made mention of my dream, apologizing that it was bad. I shrugged and brushed it off stating, “I should have expected such. I long for the day in which I’m at peace with myself again.”

That was certainly the most endearing moment today. It pricks at my heart despite the gloom that rests upon my shoulders.

After that stop at the Hermits, we had only one other hiccup- well two, but this one took a large chunk of our time away. We encountered two Hill Giants who made a big fuss over their nets being broken and how we weren’t allowed passage due to being hungry. Bordel ended up fixing their nets and was given an added payment of appreciation. The Cleric was handed a choker with seven spheres upon it. Zaren examined it closely and determined that it would provide us with the ability to teleport in the future. We leave a sphere at a destination, then no matter where we are, as long as we hold on to whoever is wearing the choker, we can teleport to the place.

Though the bit with the Hill Giants took roughly two hours off our travel time, we managed to get out of the swamp. And that’s saying something because as we came within a half mile to the edge, a growl danced across the landscape. Not wanting to fight, I picked up my skirt and began to jog. Daevri liked the idea and encouraged the others to follow suit.

The sound continued and I looked about to behold a large, black, bird like creature lunging toward me! It had three feet and claw like fingers that stretched out from under it’s wings. I positioned my hands and muttered the words to a fear spell, sending it toward the fowl.

It did nothing to the creature and soon I stumbled as I found the beast upon me. The bird’s hand seized my neck and held me high shouting, “POLLY WANTS A CRACKER!!!” I dangled for a few moments, trying to catch my breath. Not wanting to loosen my grip on the hand that bound my neck, I feverishly searched my mind as to what I should do. It wanted a cracker. Carefully, with one hand, I motioned in the air and barely uttered, “Sriver,” to create an illusion of a cracker.

The bird aggressively ate the imaginary food and thanked me. It then set me down roughly and with a loud squawk ran off again. I coughed and sputtered and clutched my bleeding hand as I took in deep breathes.

“Are you alright?” Bordel asked. “No!” I thought, but managed to say I was fine. I looked at them all, standing about, looking at me with stupid expressions. No one had reacted... The minute or two I was being strangled... no one helped. And I have to wonder if it’s because I’ve refused to fight. Perhaps they loathe my pacifist ways.

I want to cry under this pressure. Maybe I should have died yesterday... I am of no use. I sincerely doubt there’s any hope for me. I just feel so alone and a burden.

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~Based (90%) on the song, Castle, by Halsey~

Done with all these people talking. Sick of all this noise.

Tired of all these mem’ries flashing. Fed with being poised.

Oh, of all these minutes passing, sick of feeling used.

Doubt these walls will ever break down, ‘less risk being bruised.

Now my neck is open wide begging for a fist around it.

Already choking on my pride, so there’s no use crying about it.

I’m headed straight for the mountain.

They want to see these hands bleed.

And there’s a woman placing in my hand

My weapon saying, “Sometimes you need to be mean.”

I’m heading straight for the mountain.

They’re slowly locking me up

And there’s a woman weighing on my mind

Now saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut.

Straight for the mountain.

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9/17/2997: Death and the Weight It Carries

Previous Entry

Ojtejk La’Dhroo ab Jujnis, 2997

I started my morning in the most peculiar of manners. As I finished writing, my mind worked at how I was going to manage. How was I going to be an effective part of the party? Kimaris mentioned that I didn’t need to kill to prove myself. The fact I had saved his life with my magics was more than enough. But as much as I’m happy to heal where I can and give courage, I still feel like I ought to be able to contribute more to the fight. I ought to be able to protect everyone from the monsters that would dare harm or make us afraid.

Then Saoer passed by. She was still about patrolling her woods and whatever else she enjoyed doing. Upon seeing her, I had a bit of inspiration. What if I prepped an animal for cooking? Surely the wolf girl could bring me an animal or two, to which I could skin and roast it. It was a desperate maneuver to prove my capabilities to the group. To demonstrate that I could endure blood and gore and they needn’t worry about my frailty.

I called Saoer over, her purple eyes softly glowing in the moonlight. I ran my hand along her head and neck, her soft fur pleasant to touch. I asked if she wouldn’t mind finding some small game for me. The wolf wagged her tale and nodded her head. With a final petting of her neck, I mention that I’d like to start at the break of dawn. Saoer quickly took off after giving me a sniff and a lick on the cheek.

When I woke, the sky was already illuminated with warm colors that silhouetted the wolf girl’s head. She held in her mouth two rabbits. As I made eye contact with her, she dropped the animals next to me and proceeded to wag her tail, pleased by her work. I stretched and got up, grabbing the rabbits and placing them near the fire pit.

Once I had dressed the fire, I got to business with what I had planned. With my knife in hand, I picked the first rabbit up and proceeded to look at it wondering where to start. My head worked as I wondered whether to cut the head off first or the skin. Ultimately I opted for the head because the eyes were cold and empty and it just felt wrong to tear into the creature with it’s dead eyes watching me.

All the while, Saoer watched on with great curiosity. I felt like a fool, but she was kind. As I hacked at the head, the cooled blood staining my hands, the wolf girl reverted to her half Elven self. “I. Show. You?” she offered. I wiped my brow and nodded my consent. She then fished a dagger out from her loin cloth and with precision and finesse, she buried the blade into the sternum of the other rabbit. Her other hand held the creature up as she pulled the dagger down toward the pelvis. I felt faint as she cleaned the cavity of all the organs.

Saoer then licked her fingers before making a few cuts along the skin. In one fell swoop, the half Elf pulled the skin off in one clean piece. My mouth was slack and I felt sick. Becoming a vegetarian is still something I’m considering.

I did push through my repulsion and mimicked the best I could what Saoer showed me. I kept reminding myself that the rabbit was already dead and it was necessary for nourishing the body. When I finished, my rabbit wasn’t nearly as clean and neat as the wolf girl’s. Still, I placed them on their own spikes and positioned them over the fire.

Saoer cleaned up the scraps and soon was on her way. As for us, our stomachs are full and we have some to spare for later.

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We’ve made it to the start of the swamp. It is here that we fought against demons and a minotaur. It is here I died. My hands still write, but... I feel empty. Numb? My spells aided better than I had thought, but weren’t enough to keep me from falling.

Zaren and Bordel together brought me back. I had been blasted with fire twice and first woke up to the Wizard hovering over me with an empty bottle. My blistered skin exclaimed their agony to which hands enclosed about mine and I heard Bordel say a prayer. I do not know the language he spoke, but the words laced my veins with warmth that soothed the burns to the point I barely noticed them. The one thing I did catch in the words the Cleric spoke was this; Haylen Arrakhan. It is my name in his magic’s language.

Soon our attention was back to the fight at hand. Only the minotaur remained, I putting my attention toward the two men who saved me. I placed my hands upon Zaren’s head and for a moment searched for the word I would describe him as. “Ilu,” I began and sent my energies through him. As I finished the prayer, the minotaur had charged Bordel, goring him under his right shoulder.

As Daevri and Kimaris pulled the beast off of the Cleric, I positioned myself with my hands upon Bordel’s head and channeled the same energies I had used on the Wizard.

With renewed vigor, the Cleric returned to the fight and slammed the beast into the ground. The spell sunk the minotaur up to his chest, but the creature, undeterred by us, laughed. He then disappeared once more.

Kimaris and Bordel searched the area some while I continued to heal Daevri and Zaren. As I finished, I took a moment to thank the Wizard for his aid. I felt mildly embarrassed because I didn’t want the others to worry about me. Still, the gratitude overwhelmed me and I hugged my comrade. I live because of him.

Once Bordel finished examining about the place for signs of the minotaur, I took the opportunity to express my gratitude for him too. Once more I found myself hugging him. There was joy that he healed me and sorrow I hadn’t done better. With doubt and uncertainty, I will endeavor to improve.

I asked the Cleric about the language he used for the prayer. He couldn’t say exactly what it was called, but said, “I call it the language of dreams because that is where I heard it first.” It was rather poetic, though I can’t imagine what it’d be like to try and say a spell without knowing the words ahead of time.

All went to bed early, I taking the first watch as usual. It’s terrifying sitting in the near silence. I would play music, but it has lost it’s appeal. I just don’t feel worthy of comfort. Something else that scares me is the Lyro Blade seems to be singing more. It’s as though the weapon is calling upon me to wield it. I hope I can make it to the monastery without succumbing to the blade.

Maybe it would have been right of me to have attacked those creatures, yet that very thought shames me as I realize that I’m considering violence as a viable option. In a way, I recognize that it is. Yet this body... it is so sickened by the notion. 

I do have to wonder if this day was in similitude of the rabbits I skinned and roasted this morning. Of course that’s stupid of me to think, yet... what if? I suppose whatever I end up doing, whether I take up my sword or channel more aggressive spells, I must expect the same in return to my actions.

Next Entry

9/16/2997: The Scared Little Virgin Girl.

Previous Entry

Lutejk La’Dhroo ab Jujnis, 2997

Once more I’m reminded that I’m nothing but a scared little girl. All the magic that I know couldn’t save me or anyone. I’m tired of being pathetic and yet... that’s probably all I’ll ever be. If there’s more to me than I know, I wish it would manifest now!

We started out on the trek toward the monastery mid morning. We entered into some woods that Zaren mentioned to having been sickly and suffering. The trees have diminished, which I had attributed to the locals over logging. And I should note that Zaren is Aragoth. The Dragonborn had an ego trip this morning and used his Primordial powers to change his looks into a man with reddish blonde hair that stuck out in a wild manner. Dunno why he felt the need to change his name, but alas he’s insistent on being called by his new name.

Well, about an hour or two into the woods, large bug like creatures creeped up from the ground. Everyone reacted quickly enough that they didn’t present a threat to any of us. Just an omen of what was to come.

We then met this wolf girl. She was quite the site to see, her being barely dressed in wolf fur. She spoke solely to Zaren in a language I’m unfamiliar with. The man translated her plight, that she’s trying to protect her woods, but the creatures we fought (which weren’t magical) were the likely culprits to the forest’s destruction and scaring off the Golden Unicorn that dwells here.

I was more concerned about getting to the monastery, but Zaren was insistent about helping since his brother was part of the wolf girl’s pack. The wolves are sickly according to her. Everyone thought it’d be of use to lend a hand, so I went along. Part of me wondered if it was just another wild goose chase, looking for a Unicorn. Then again, we did end up seeing Bahamut, so part of me was hopeful to actually see one.

The wolf girl lead us to a meadow. She spoke of how she’s teleported back to the start of the path when she attempts to go to the lake. We tried helping her, but no matter if she was with us or carried, she would disappear and be back at the start of the trail. And so we went on to see what was causing the magics.

Heavens, Daevri brought up a topic I thought I’d never have to speak of, at least not to the four guys. He wanted to know if I was a virgin in case the Unicorn catered to the lore that only woman, untouched by men, could approach them. It’s bad enough that I’m alone among men and immodest in my dress, but to breach such a topic was most undignified and has only added to how sick I feel.

The lake soon came into view and with it six cat like creatures that Zaren said were displacer beasts. Each one had two, tentacle like tails and they didn’t hesitate for a moment to attack us. It was there that I felt the panic begin to set in, but with optimism and remembrance of Rora, I tried to channel courage. I wanted to be brave. So desperately did I want to believe I could help protect all of us. Instead the false projection I tried to display was chipped away until all that remained was nothing but a useless shell.

Of the spells that came to mind, I tried to use an illusion to generate an animal that the creatures might have taken more interest in. However it would appear that displacer beasts don’t care much for griffins.Then I tried to intimidate some of them with a slurring of words. I’ve seen how the spell would hinder creatures before but these ones... it didn’t phase them.

By then the beasts were upon us and I could hear the cries of pain, the shedding of blood, and my heart thundering in my ears. I raced in my head to know of something, ANYTHING, to protect my group. And in those moments I was suddenly attacked. Two tentacles clapped me on either side of my head and left me hazed for a moment. I remember a voice in my head screaming, “How DARE you!” I whirling around and from my right hand shot a bolt of fire.

From the haze of battle and anger, Bordel rushed before me, swinging a greataxe at the creature. He then looked at me, probably wondering why I was standing in such a stupor, and pointed out Kimaris. The boy lay on the ground, blood all over him. I whispered, “Toir vuk!” a wave of energy leaving me. His eyes opened up right as Zaren fell next to him.

I carefully maneuvered over to the two, Kimaris forcing a potion down the fallen man. He sputtered to consciousness, both still looking terrible. I then placed my hands on Kimaris’s head and sent another heal spell through him. As I spoke the last words of the prayer, I opened my eyes to find a displacer beast charging me.

“Yiv æae bawn yoicd!” I wanted to shout, but my voice failed me. I forgot how to breath as it leaped toward my body in one swift motion. It was my end. The claws and teeth most certainly would have torn me to pieces, but Daevri was there suddenly, driving his sword through the creature’s neck and guiding it to the ground. A loud thud and a final moan escaped the cat like creature.

Why I didn’t faint, I can’t say. I sucked in the air rapidly and returned my attention to Kimaris and Zaren. I placed my shaking hands on the man and sent one more of my energies through him to heal what I could quickly.

What felt like ages was likely no more than a few hellish minutes. Yet they will forever be branded on my mind. Skeletons don’t seem so scary any more...

As we sat, recuperating, the Unicorn came and found us. It was probably the saddest thing I have ever beheld. The creature was a step away from becoming a full on Nightmare. She was black with a single gleaming spark of gold at the tip of her horn. She didn’t like us, we being human. The out lying towns have destroyed much of her forest to the point she gave up hope. And with her corruption, she began to corrupt what remained of home.

The wolf girl came to mind and I pitied her. The loyalty held toward the Unicorn was in vain. The only consideration given the girl was that of being spared her own corruption. I chastised the soon to be Nightmare for giving up, for not taking pride in what she had. Complaining about how it once was beautiful and homely seemed hypocritical when she had the power to keep her realm the way it once was.

Kimaris did point out that the size of woods played greatly into the Unicorn’s powers, but I feel the Unicorn gave up when she still had something to hold onto. Let alone we fought beasts due to her own corruption! She endangered us!

I inquired about why she hadn’t utilized the wolf girl, Saoer as she called her, to speak to the people, to get them to respect the woods. The Unicorn then mentioned that both she and the girl had gone, well before things had gotten so bad, but no one would harken unto them. A new layer of anger came over me. What kind of people didn’t listen to a Unicorn? From the lore I read, they might as well be God’s themselves. You never cross a Unicorn!

With a heavy heart, I followed the party after we agreed to take her plight to the monastery. I know in the towns we pass through, I will be investigating the people, to gather why no one listened and respected the Unicorn and her forest.

Until then, we are resting in the meadow. Kimaris has been a sweetheart, having held my hand as we walked back. I’m trying hard not to let what’s bothering me  be conveyed to him or the others. They already have to put up with my ineffectiveness, no need to add to it by lamenting.

Heh. Daevri tried to offer a hand earlier. He was curious about the Lyro Blade. I let him examine it, explaining it was a gift from Bahamut. He marveled at it and wondered why I wasn’t so confident with wielding the weapon. I simply replied, “Most blades are used for the purpose of harming or killing. It’s a talent I have yet to develop.”

The Human smirked and reminded me that the sword could be used to defend myself, I just need to find a purpose. And that’s the unfortunate thing. I have purpose. I have my life to protect, Kimaris, Bordel, Zaren, and Daevri too. I value life and that everyone should be able to live to the full extent of their days. I want the innocent to not be taken advantage of. So many things I could list that I would happily defend against, but to sink my blade into those who opposed me or those I love? I just can’t find it in me to inflict that pain.

I think back to when Kimaris had me punch him. In a way, as much as I didn’t want to hurt him, it was easy to try because he was expecting it. He was okay with me hurting him then. I doubt those I attack will be as willing and of the mind to welcome my Lyro Blade into their gut. I wish there was a way I could just turn it all off. I wish I could step back inside of Rora and pretend to not care. Surely that would be easier than this... Next Entry

9/15/2997: Our Short Stay in Two Rivers

Previous Entry

Kæjk La’Dhroo ab Jujnis, 2997

This morning I felt rather self conscious as I dressed in my new gown. My shoulders were bare and there was no hiding the feathers. Goodness, as I brushed my hair, I took a peek at my shoulders only to catch Bordel staring. Immediately I looked away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. What might he think of me?

“Sleep well?” he asked as I began to braid my hair. All I could think about was hurrying off to breakfast. It was my intentions to have left before he woke.

“I did, though I got in a bit later than I intended,” I replied. A moment later, I heard Bordel get up and come to the washbasin. I kept my focus on the mirror on the armoire, twisting the braid into a bun. As I pinned it in place, the Cleric then asked if I had seen his brush. I looked at him, confused like, before a laugh escaped me. Quickly I clamped my mouth shut, for part of me wondered if he was serious. Yet as sure as I was that he was teasing me, what with him having a bald head, I replied, “I haven’t.”

Satisfied with the state of my hair, I then wrapped the scarf around my shoulders and made my way out of the room. While walking to the Galley, I couldn’t help but enjoy the lightness I felt. Just maybe I’m not a bothersome thorn. I know I’m feeling more worthy of the bracelet Bordel gave.

After eating breakfast, we all got ready to disembark into the muddy port of Two Rivers. As we all stood on deck, Kimaris pointed out my feathers.

“Do those hurt?” he asked. I laughed and said no, but rather they itch a lot. I asked if he’d be so kind to scratch the ones around my shoulder blades and he obliged me. Daevri then poked fun saying I was turning into an Angel. At that notion, Bordel echoed how I felt, by saying, “No she’s not.” Let alone, I don’t know how many Angels have their arms growing feathers.

Once off the ship, Daevri made it well known his repulsion to manual traveling. I rolled my eyes. His way of life wasn’t too far from my upbringing. Granted on a finer scale, but still. Walking isn’t that difficult, even if it’s a week’s worth. Kimaris said that’s how long it’d take us to get to the base of the mountains where the stepping stone trial awaits us.

I’m actually really excited to visit this monastery. The view from the top must be a sight to see.

We split off in town; Kimaris heading to a tower to signal his coming, Bordel to the blacksmith, and I got stuck with babysitting duty as I marched Aragoth and Daevri to the local tavern. To avoid the Human from whining the entire trip, collectively we thought we would see if there were any caravans heading toward the monastery.

We did find one, but even though it would be in town any day, we would have to wait a week (unless convinced otherwise) before it made it’s trek back. We managed to bribe Daevri with piggy back rides so we coyld make haste toward Kimaris's home. We will sent out first thing tomorrow morning. Next Entry

9/14/2997: Heartache's Comfort pt. 2

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I had the most intense dream. The vividness that lingers in my veins makes me wonder if it were a vision, but it’s hard to say. I was playing my Lyro Blade for the masses on the aircraft (I’ll mention it later, I must first get the dream written). Kimaris, Bordel, Aragoth, and Daevri were all eating at a table, my cards from games earlier accompanying them. I had decided to sing a ballad of a Half-Orc, Champion of Pelor, when everything about me seemed to surge. Like, the energies were whisking me away to some far off land.

Once I was able to gain my bearings, I found that I was in a wasteland- no... it was more plains like, but the atmosphere was dark and dull. I could sense a great war taking place which made me feel all sorts of uncomfortable.

As I looked about, a cry rang out and I saw a dark figure assaulting a woman. It wasn’t just a strike with the hand. The silhouetted man proceeded to have his way with her. I can’t say if it was the woman who continued to scream or that of my own voice. Like a coward, I ran. There was nothing I could do to help her...

My flight was short come as another figure caught my attention. She was commanding in appearance. Her face was painted white, markings along her cheeks and eyes. The dress was like nothing I had seen before that magnified the warrioress she was. A golden headdress adorned her crown and for the briefest of moments I forgot the threat behind me.

I then remembered her. She was me- the Primordial of Balance, at least in a previous life. I was mesmerized by her as she walked past. I doubt she ever saw me.

Rora- the warrioress, walked straight over to the man, killing him and the woman with two swift motions from her fans. Sorrow for the victim escaped me, wondering why she had to die. It was short lived as my eyes beheld four red orbs in the sky and Rora heading up a hill.

Despite her brutality, I picked myself up and followed after. I felt safe with her and surely I might gain wisdom if I kept with. As we walked, a laughter echoed across the landscape. It was lilt and childlike and chilled my bones. I looked about, but saw nothing. In fact, when I returned my attention to Rora, she was no longer leading me. The warrioress had disappeared all together.

I continued to walk up the hill toward the lights. As I drew nigh, I felt weights in my hands. I looked to them and found the metal fans Rora wielded clenched in my fists. Then the green robes that were wrapped about her frame, billowed in the breeze about my legs. It took but a moment to realize, though I suspect I always was, that I was Rora.

As I walked on, a calm encased me. The two folk I had murdered was necessary. The man for his vile actions and the woman so she wouldn’t have to live on with the scars. I could feel the weight she carried in making that decision, yet at the same time there wasn’t any guilt. It was a duty to uphold.

At the top of the hill I saw Bordel, Kimaris, Aragoth, and Daevri, but they too were past manifestations of their Primordial cycle. The Dragonborn, who was a Goliath at the time, beckoned to us to which we all placed a hand on a large stone. Then there’s glimpses of the great Dragon, Io, charging into battle followed by a man with bright red hair reading a book. It was the history of the world, Bordel having observed it and declaring it was accurate.

Then I snapped back to reality, the final chords of the song being plucked incoherently. Some folk applauded and I shook my head feeling embarrassed. I then switched to my other lyre, not quite sure what I had done.

I don’t know why I continued to play for everyone. By the time I decided to finish, I found the Galley empty except for Bordel.

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I think I’ve warmed up to Bordel again. As I wrote in his quiet company, he began to make small chat about my journal and what I write. I felt nervous, knowing what I’ve written about him, but stated I wrote about the going ons of the day, whatever stood out and seemed important. He then asked if my mother was in there. I chuckled a little, confirming she was. The Cleric then surprised me and apologized for snapping at me the other day when I had seemingly foiled our plans to obtain the journals. I felt bashful and brushed it off saying that it was partly my fault for not communicating better. But I certainly feel much better in his good graces.

Something interesting is Bordel can’t write. I take my skill in that for granted. I tend to assume everyone can. I offered to teach him, but he declined. Then I found out he has no family. I didn’t press about it. The topic only came up when I mentioned I’d help write any letters home. It’s perplexing he has no wife or children back home for his character is so inviting.

Then again maybe they are dead... Or the fact he was the executioner. Maybe that position hindered him. I know if I was still a functioning member of my family, that arrangement wouldn’t hold well with my mother. Thankfully I don’t have to worry about status when it comes to marriage, just my own happiness. Ha! The thought of a wedding sounds so foreign now. I doubt that is part of my Primordial agenda.

Speaking of my supremeness, I mentioned to Bordel the dream I had. He said he had one too of a similar fashion. I pulled the Lyro Blade out and examined it for auras as the Cleric wondered how the dream was brought about. Bahamut’s gift held no magical effects, which left me equally confused.

Bordel eventually got up to leave, I asking him which room Kimaris took. He teased me by saying, “I thought you were sharing with Aragoth?” I told him I wasn’t. I’m not sure what to think about the Dragonborn. He’s a thief and a brute. I don’t feel comfortable being alone behind closed doors with him yet.

More seriously, Bordel mentioned that Kimaris didn’t take a room and that I was welcome to share his. I accepted the invite saying I’d come down after I finished writing.

With that, I suppose it would make better sense for me to jot how I even managed to be aboard an airship! But first, everything leading up to it after I had written this morning:

After journaling and writing the letter to Achmath, I had grabbed my pack to go to market and get a new dress. I’ve mentioned the feathers growing, but I’m starting to notice more nubs running along my arms and I have no choice but to find an outfit to accommodate the feathers. I haven’t a clue what people will think. Aside from being less modest, will people assume I’m part Aarakocra?

With my nerves already set with saying goodbye to Achmath and my changes, they were only added upon as I picked my pack up. It was unbelievably heavy! And guess what was inside! The stolen goods! Or at least some of them. I dare not ask where the rest went, but with what I had, I was intent on returning them and sparing the shop some of their loss.

I mentioned to Kimaris, who still was sitting with Daevri, that I was headed to market as I passed through the common room. Once outside, I nearly bumped into Bordel as I lugged the pack along. He was kind and offered to carry it. With enthusiasm I passed the load to him. I then made mention of the items inside and how I was off to return them. He even suggested that I get a top fit for my feathers, as I itched.

It was rather embarrassing. I say, I don’t know how birds handle it. Ever so often I had to stop and lean against the wall of a building to get a decent scratch. I thought about asking Bordel, but the idea sounded awkward. Perhaps Kimaris will lend a hand later.

As we slowly made way to the blacksmith I was certain the armor and weapons were from, Bordel and I met up with Aragoth. It was there that it dawned on me that the Dragonborn was a Primordial. I have yet to ask the Cleric about it, but I don’t understand how it was possible. Yet there’s a part of me that seems to know that he’s been one all along, especially considering that vision I had. And the same thing happened with Daevri; he’s one of us (though he was equally surprised, as I was, by his new found power... which may not be a good thing for him)!

Anyways, Aragoth was not happy by the idea of returning the goods. They were to help us save the world according to him. Bordel debated with him, trying to bring reason about how we can’t just take as we please because of our power. Just because we’re to save everyone doesn’t mean to cheat the others of their livelihood. Yet the Dragonborn would counter with, “But does their livelihood matter if the world ends because we were not well equipped?” It was rather comical how he thought we were going about saving the world. Granted, the forces we were taking on to secure the cups might prove threatening, but with two of the ten secured in Bahamut's vaults, I seriously doubt the world is at threat.

The Cleric thought a long moment and replied, “I suppose I play chess differently than you,” to which the debating continued. I, however, marched off toward the blacksmith, who was berating his help something terrible.

“Excuse me,” I began. The man recognized me, calling me by my formal name. I then presented the stolen items explaining that I had woken with them in my belongings and knowing me, I certainly have no need of them. He thanked me for the return, though was disappointed that only a portion had been salvaged. Bordel then joined me and handed the blacksmith a platinum piece to cover the rest. I thought that quite generous considering Aragoth and Daevri were the culprits that put him out of pocket.

After finding a dress fitting for my changes, the three of us returned to the Inn for lunch. There, Bordel asked the others what he asked me while out at market, “What do you think of flying?” I had chuckled considering the feathers I was growing and mentioned that it was something I had yet to do. The Cleric then said that he had a surprise for me. So after everyone else gave their input, no one being opposed to the idea, He mentioned how there was an aircraft that he’s established passage for all of us on.

“Where are we taking the aircraft to?” Kimaris asked. It was a big reminder that Bordel and I hadn’t told the others about what had happened last night at the dinner party! So quickly I relayed that we had a likely source to a cup on Mythus island- but we ought to ask around the docks to see if any of the workers or sailors have heard about it.

Kimaris asked what route the aircraft would take. Bordel said it was heading north before going east. The boy then mentioned that he had been summoned by his Master. Something in his eyes suggested it was what we ought to do first, the volcano cup likely safe as it were for a more convenient time.

With that decision made, we all went down to the aircraft to inquire if we would be able to be dropped off close to Kimaris’s home. As we walked, I did my best to ask some of the folk around the dock about Mythus, but so far no one seems to have heard of such a rumor about a volcano’s treasure.

Then my attention turned to the aircraft. It was quite amazing! The ship must have been something established within the past two years because I never saw it in my time growing up in Ruebis. It held a resemblance to the ships ported, but lacking the sails.

We were greeted by a Half Orc named Blacmeg. He was courteous and said that they would be stopping at a town near the monastery Kimaris is from. We were then lead to the barracks where we were able to secure three rooms.

I had assumed I would be bunking with Kimaris. Daevri, however, asked if I would want to join with him. I rolled my eyes and jokingly stated, “I’d rather room with the Dragonborn than you.” No sooner had I said it, Aragoth was all, “Sure!” and threw me over his shoulders! I can’t tell you how panicked I felt. He slammed the door behind him and set me down. He then flopped on the bed and muttered something about how they were never big enough for him. I laughed nervously and excused myself.

Before I left, he did make mention that he wouldn’t ever hurt me. I smiled cordially and slipped out the door. The others had a good laugh over it. I then in full blush made my way up top to have a good looking over of the ship before making my way down into the Galley to entertain with cards and music.

And on that note, I am off to bed!

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I feel rather lousy now. I went to say goodnight to Kimaris and found him sitting at the helm of the ship, the starry night above us. He was rather standoffish with me, not wanting to talk much. Then I remembered Achmath. So I told him how it was stupid of me to have reacted in such a manner. I should have known better. Still, he denied any conversation until I asked what was going on in his head.

“This...heartbreak... how does anyone deal with it?” Kimaris asked. I couldn’t help but feel bad. I knew what he felt... but there was nothing I could do. I was the source of his pain. Still, like I would my siblings when they hurt, I pulled Kimaris in for a hug. He didn’t fight it and we continued to go on about the uncertainties and unfairness that seemed rife the past week.

I suspect a lot of what the boy is going through has to deal with how he’s gotten younger. Prepubescent and having to deal with whatever feelings he has for me and being a Primordial- the latter getting to me nearly a week ago.

It’s hard to believe I once loathed Kimaris. Now I pity him. If I had the power to, I’d make him nineteen again... yet, if I did would we go back to fighting like cats and dogs? I just wish I didn’t feel so guilty for not feeling the same way. There was a moment I think I saw it, but now... he’s no longer an adult, well at least he doesn’t look it. I guess that bodes the question: If he was an adult, but looked like a child, would I date him anyways? Yet, what would society think? What would I think? 

It feels heartless to deny him the chance just because of his child like stature... but I can’t... I just can’t.

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