The Stories of a Life Lived

[Emotionaloverload]

[Cordor]

Even sheets of rain assaulting the cobbled streets of Cordor seemed to do nothing for the layer of grime that paved the city. The rancid smell of the sewers wafted out from every well and gutter perfuming the air. It may make your eyes water but I think it has charm.

It was here that I met Angur Thorgrimson; a large man that looked as though he was born in battle. He had the most peculiar glowing tattoos that I absolutely had to know about.

He told me that only his 'Battle Brothers'; men that had been in the fray with him and survived, could know the stories tied to each tattoo.

We travelled into the Cordor Iron Mines in search of ore but found little of it. Instead, we were met by wave after wave of kobolds. All of which were cut down by Angur and his kin, Akena. I would like to say that there was more to it than that but I honestly can't remember. I remained in the back most of the time stumbling through the dimly lit mines and doing my utmost not to look utterly petrified.

In the end, it was all worth it. I got my story and I will tell it to you; paraphrased, of course.

"The journey to becoming a man, in my tribe, ends with this tattoo but starts with three harrowing days at sea alone. My first task was to craft an able skiff. I had chosen the tree that stood atop the cliff overlooking our camp. It was one I often climbed as a child and I knew would serve me well.

I waited until nightfall before pushing off from the coast. I thought, maybe, the darkness could cloak me from dangers that lurked in the water but I didn’t fully understand what was waiting for me. The brazen lens of youth tainted my gaze.

The sea churned and bellowed as if the Bitch Queen herself were tempting me into her icy bosom. With the waves came all manner of monsters that nipped and clawed at the skiff. I could scarce hold them back. I thought it was to be the last of my days. I prepared my soul for a short life; accepting death.

But then! Massive tentacles erupted from the water grabbing monster after monster and dragging them into the depths. I laid there waiting for my turn but it never came. It was then I knew that the great beast; the Kraken, seeing my worth had let me survive.

So when I finally returned, I told the soothsayer that I wanted my first Mark of the Warrior to be the great beast of the sea.”

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Crash]

After a long and lovely night with a Patron I was eager for some ale and simple company. Instead I found myself in the Nomad listening to a lesson on dragons. You might think it an odd avenue to relaxation but you should have seen her; strawberry hair, rounded features and, at least, a five foot red wing span. I couldn’t help myself. I had to find out all about it.

I thought I was about to be regaled with stories like I’d never heard before. Perhaps it might have been enlightening personal journeys or morbid tales of tragedy. But before we could even get started there was a loud explosion outside that shook the building. I must confess that I made my way outside reluctantly. After all the talk of dragons, I thought for sure that there was bound to be some foul wyrm in the skies above Cordor.

The streets were filled with people that had their eyes to the heavens but even then it only took a few moments to find someone that knew what was going on. I managed to lure a Halfling; Dravven, into the Nomad with drinks in exchange for the story which went a little like this:

“Beams of red light bore down from the sky sucking up livestock, rocks and plants from the Cordor farmland. Then, barely an instant later, in a flash of light had a massive humanoid automaton beamed down before us. It came to deliver a message; It’s Masters demanded a sacrifice of Sewer Rat Gang members be made to them or the city would face their wrath.

Their vessel, a Spelljammer, hovered above the city limits as if primed for action and destruction. Understandably, and perhaps even cowardly, the city guard took off in haste to round up the required sacrifice. After all, they were criminals while the consequence could be the entire city and everyone in it.

A small group of us made our way to the portal in the outskirts where the sacrifice was to be delivered. The plan was to hold off the guard while we came up with a better plan. It was then that a monk, Amadeo, devised the risky endeavor that led us onto the Spelljammer.

We disguised ourselves as members of the Sewer Rat Gang and were beamed up into a holding cell. The walls were made from no metal I had ever seen and the door was pure lightning. The ship shuddered and boomed and flashes came into the cell. It seemed as though everything was coming apart.

Another automaton entered and commanded us to form a line as if we were cattle for slaughter. The shuddering grew louder and explosions erupted around us; one disabling the automaton and another causing the door to malfunction long enough for us to exit.

We hurried through the ship only to find fallen Illithids scattered everywhere. They were humanoid creatures with four-tentacled, octopus like heads. I saw one that gnawed on his kin, feeding on him, before dropping dead too.

We were pulled into a room with the remaining Illithid that explained that a virus had infected them and their ship. They demanded food and a cure; both of which they believed the people of Arelith had. Obviously we capitalized on their moment of weakness by attacking but amidst the fray their captain fled.

Free to our own devices we located the engines and sabotaged the vessel causing a fire and the crash. Of course, we beamed back to the outskirts unharmed before it started coming down. Flaming debris fell from the ship like party confetti for our victory.”

[Emotionaloverload]

[Divination]

I spent the afternoon being torn between fur selections. The rabbit, fox and yeti are the top three and they all have nearly equal merit. I think it might take me a couple more days and a few more glasses of wine before deciding although my Patron’s tailor might not have quite so much patience left.

All that decadence and indecision left me hankering for some adventure or story; something wonderful to round out a lovely day. Then coming up to the city gates in Cordor, I saw a gathering. Two Arcane Tower mages were hosting a divination reading.

One stood atop a sloped stone, dressed like you might expect from a bookworm only with far more class and an ounce sex appeal. The other was a Thayan woman in the most delightful shade of red however her manner was a little abrasive for my taste. They were surrounded by a crowd of dwarves and halflings that appeared to have the sole purpose of heckling.

I think the wonder of it all was lost on them. They couldn’t see the beautiful potential; the story to be told. Of course, I wasted no time to have my future read. It went something like this;

“Step after step quakes on the smoldering ground until the sound of marching thunders out for miles. The rows of devils stand ready to destroy any trial that crosses their infernal path. Their weapons held in hand and their bodies wrought in armours of flames. Near the army, at the edge of a jutting cliff, are you. Do you oppose them, ally with them or command them? The future is yet unclear but they all turn to you, waiting for the decision. Waiting for your first step on whichever path you take.”

At first I was a little perturbed by the prediction. I was honestly hoping for love, adventure and romance but this certainly got my attention. I might just look into applying for the Arcane Tower.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Heat of the Night]

The room was dimly lit by fading candles giving it a flicker of mystery. It could have been anywhere but the smell of cooked wine and rosewater clung to the silk sheets and pulled me back to the present. I must have laid there for an hour admiring her curves while she slept. She was quite regal like a King’s mistress.

It had been party after party; leaving some early, staying late in others. Of course, there were also adventures when I could find the time. I had met everything from pirates to paladins and yet I wasn’t tired. Rather I was solemn; perhaps at the thought of missing any of it.

She stirred reminding me that I had to go before the sun came up. That was the agreement and how lovely it was; to be enchanted by the day, seduced by the night and to fall in love in a moment for a moment. And there were so many more moments left to come and so many more lovers waiting to fall in love.

How could I possibly get to them all?

[Emotionaloverload]

[Paying with Love]

The night had started the day so beautifully with silk, and lace and kisses but my walk back from Wharftown quickly put a stop to that. I was travelling with Brego and Ew’sil that had promised me a story in exchange for sharing the burdens of the road together. Brego had a tale of demons and disaster and yet I barely heard a word.

Ew’sil, a morbid archer of Sheravash, is a cruel and bitter elf. One lacking so much in tact I believe he could turn a succubus away. He seemed to have confused love with something selfish that I could barely tear my thoughts from it. The notion he had in his mind was one where the lover is a trophy; they are only to love you and any straying from this was high treason.

He had professed his love twice and been turned away. I suspect the reason being his abrasive manner and unrealistic view. Love is about giving and worship and lust. His bitterness blinded him so that no word of mine could quell him. He was more interested in jealousy and greediness to even recognize love.

I had hoped to clear my palette of the ordeal with Anna; the wordless, but her manner equally broke my heart. I can’t imagine a world so cold and with a love that meant only sweet words and bitter farewells. She misconstrued my brief attention for an overture which had me think; “how empty of kindness and fleeting joys is this place that even the simplest words were taken so strongly? “

Of course, I apologized for any trauma I might have caused since she was rather taken aback but it still gripped to me like a humourless jester; persistent and sad.

In the end I was glad to see that not everyone was so dark and with despair. My patron sent a token by messenger; two wonderful gold and gem rings. He really does know how to please.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Devil is in the Details]

The Tower library has such character with its tall shelves, shadowy corners and musty smell that it had me day dreaming. Perhaps it was home to a dastardly murder plot for succession or a dark romance between a mousey apprentice and a prideful Archmage. The space was delightfully heavy with history and story potential.

I was musing over a magical text to snag and add to my list of topics with Lady Elizabeth. We already shared an interest in good food, art and, of course, Her. She reminds me of a luscious coral reef. So intricate in beauty that even the most composed onlooker is provoked to stare. In spite of being unable to get around her busy schedule, I do try to make a point of coming prepared and entertaining my Patrons. Although, judging by her behaviour, she is rather fond of me already.

It was then that things appeared to go awry. I could hear the methodical tap of a cane as someone walked from the other side of the library. As the base of the cane connected with the stone floor the sound reverberated until it seemed like only a dull hum in my ears.

I looked up from the books but merely caught a glimpse of the most vivid red floral pattern on a black coat. I meant to think nothing of it; just a Tower member going about their business. Then I felt someone behind me. The feeling was sudden and with a touch of menace.

“Sawyer” A man whispered. His voice thick and rich like melted chocolate. It startled me but even with a brisk, surprised turn, I saw no one.

I never ended up finding a book.

[Emotionaloverload]

[You win some, you lose some]

The study is decorated with cherry wood fixtures, stained glass cabinets and a pattern marble floor. In the center of the room stands a magnificent granite chess set; each piece crafted by hand and rendered with exquisite detail.

“You’re missing the bigger picture.” The words come from the middle aged on the winning side of the table. His sloped features are handsome but give him a stern appearance. “You can’t repeatedly sacrifice your pieces in the small battles without a plan and expect to win the war.”

On the other side of the table, with many of his pieces already on the side lines, is the youth. His carrot coloured hair wisps around his soft, boyish features that give away his adolescent age. He takes a sip of his wine, staring at the board.

“Sawyer.”

“I heard you. I just don’t see it.” He counters with a smile. Even with so many losses in tow his mirth doesn’t seem to fade.

“It is all there. You just have to look.”

“It is difficult to look at the board when I have you to look at, My Lord.”

The shamelessly ploy elicits a small smile from the man. The mood is short lived as the door opens interrupting them.

A young woman sticks her head in “Sawy—Milord!” Her eyes widen with shock at the unexpected sight. Quickly her face twists into an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry, Milord.”

“What is it?” His voice dips with a quiet boom of authority.

“I-I…Uh, the young Master requests Sawyer.”

“Popular tonight.” He says aside to the youth. “And what would he be doing in here alone?”

The rattled maid looks at Sawyer with dismay as if being caught in a lie. The youth smiles gently; his features alight with a playful note looking down at the true culprit; the chess board. “To please you, My Lord. After all, practise makes perfect.”

Lying there, on the bear rug, I could never understand why people put furs that close to the fireplace. It only serves to get unbearably hot; at least on the nights when I am asked over. The fire’s light cast shadows onto the marble and granite chess set on the distant side of the room. It reminded me of home and how much I loved to play even though I was terribly poor at it.

The night was still fresh. Maybe I could convince my Patron into a game.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Lesson in Frivolity]

I’m surprised the Tower is still standing. I would have imagined it being crushed by the weight of everyone’s perceived importance. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with ego and pride. Those are certainly fields that I excel in but, truly, they need a lesson in frivolity.

I sat in the lounge on the Tower’s second floor with Lady Elizabeth and Casimir. She was as radiant as ever but seemed to move with heavy steps as if worn and burdened. He was consumed with the idea of himself. At least that was my initial impression. They were both taking themselves far too seriously which tends to provoke my attention elsewhere.

I noticed one of the pillars had been enchanted with purple orbs of light that continuously wove around it. I thought “Where is that standard of triviality now?” Why not do something for the sake of doing it? Why not indulge or excite or even anger, if you must? Just pick a course of action because it is new or beautiful or shameless.

Of course, this got me thinking about one of my new Patrons. I had to do something to entertain myself during the terribly grim conversation.

She is delightfully playful and with as much bite as a werewolf. It is strange. She makes me work so hard just to hog her attention and half the time I can barely tell if I have made any headway. Yet she picks up everything I’m hitting with such speed and wit that often I think she is one of Milil’s own.

It is refreshing to have someone like that to fantasize about; someone that makes no effort to be proper, important or mysterious.

Someone that is blatantly genuine. I miss that.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Sweet Dreams]

The air grew thick and soggy with heat like Chultan nights. A fire crackled nearby. It was surely the fireplace, I thought. Then sound grew into a fierce roar of unchecked flames. It startled me from sleep.

The room was quiet and cool without even moonlight to creep in through the window. All was still. I was ready to rest my head back down when I noticed that brilliant red floral pattern on black. My skin crawled; there was someone else here.

He sat in the arm chair with both hands resting on a gold cane with a ruby top. The gem flickered as if it had found light in the dark room. His red and black attire was exquisite; adorned with black diamonds and flawless rubies. It made me stare. I could barely help myself.

It didn’t help that he was disarmingly handsome with his almost edible looking dark skin, sleek black hair and commanding figure. Before I even had a chance to muster the words to speak, his crimson eyes looked away. He looked beside me. I looked beside me. I don’t know why but I felt I had to. I felt that he wouldn’t look without reason and his wordless glance was enough to persuade me.

The bed was soaked in blood. I could feel it seeping in under me. It was warm as if it was fresh. I jumped.

I woke with a start in my Patron’s bed. That will be terrific for business, no doubt. She asked but I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t even have an excuse. It was positively mood killing.

I don’t know how I’ll recover the situation.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Making Magic]

I feel like I have been in an eighteen person, three day long Sharessan Revel. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired.

I can’t sleep. I can’t focus on my work. I head out on long trips to clear my head. All these dreams have improved my abilities which allows me do more but it exhausts me. Then tired; I can’t sleep. I can’t work; I go out. I get tired but I can’t sleep.

It is a malicious cycle and I can’t see the end of it.

I take solace in the feeling that this new magic brings. It makes me quiver from only recalling it like a gong being hit. I’ve never been very good at it. I can’t even tell spells apart, most of the time. But this is different. It is a kind of focus like another head inside of mine is doing all the work.

It frightens me a little to be getting so good at it so quickly.

….But off I go again in search of this new feeling.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Bad for Business]

I’ve spent the last few days showing mages of my skill standard a thing or two about passion and instinct over study and tactic when it comes to magic. So much so that during the research trip to Glorag Mur, I was more than comfortable; comfortable enough to be helpful which, it seems, Bryce noticed.

I think that was the reason he called on me today or, at least, that was the pretense. I’m all for hidden agendas if I can get some pleasantness from it and there is little more pleasant than staring at him for a solid hour while he fights.

Bryce is a hulk of a man. He is brutish and rude. At times, even, spiteful but there is a note of lightheartedness in him. I was always a sucker for thug types. Although, a crush is bad for business even if the trip with him was the most relaxing thing I’ve done all month. I even managed to get some sleep after.

I’m not sure that the enjoyment of our time together is mutual. I am laying it down a little hard but it is thanks to enthusiasm. I was never very good at self-control or moderation. He finds me insincere, I think. Although most Arelithians seem to take that stance as if someone like myself, who is happy and genuinely in love with a great many things, is fictional on this island.

It is a sad thought. I hope I’m wrong about it.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Ice cold]

Bryce outstretched his arm to stop us and all that tiredness in me faded. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t want him to pick on her. He should have picked on me. I can take a beating. I can take it.

It was such a cruel day. His crude goodness had my heart soaring with glee but then I saw Audrey. Her pain hit me like a boulder; I could barely move. I don’t understand how others do it. To see another hurt or sad or happy makes me feel the same. It is as if our souls are touching.

Bryce seemed to take every opportunity to be belligerent and nasty to her. My head was spinning. I didn’t know how to find the words to explain how he was wrong. How can you begrudge someone an ounce of kindness when they need it most?

What difference would it make if they were mad or evil or unkind or the opposite? If I were to provoke someone into a bar brawl I would be just as guilty of the fight even if I didn’t strike back. This is the same. If I were to spread malice and fear and hate to you then I am just as guilty when you spread it to others.

Like all feelings, good or bad, when nurtured they grow or fester. You should be as careful about what feelings you cause as much as actions you commit because behind every action is a feeling.
He robbed her of her chance at kindness and I could see it unfold in her eyes; she would always be a step ahead now. She would be more cautious, uncaring and untrusting. Just because he had proven that that is what the world would give you back.

He stacked the deck.

We had it out later, just the two of us. I tried to explain. He tried to explain. When all was said and done I wanted so badly to hug him but he scares me just enough. He tries to scare everyone, I think. It will be better to behave around him for a little while.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Friends for a Day]

I got carried away again. I shouldn't be surprised by now. My heart always runs off without me. There used to be someone around to keep me in line. Someone to remind me of the truth; friendly doesn't means friends.

I suspect all these dreams and incidents, which have returned in full force, may be the reason behind my slew of bad judgement.

The first was that I was caught staring at two of my Patrons and not paying attention. They were so lovely with how the light hit them, I couldn't help myself. They appeared almost fairy-tale like. I’ll have to find some way to remedy it.

The second was making a scene in the street during my most recent incident. I was scared and upset. I shouldn't have said anything but I didn't know what else to do. I can only assume that I will be paying for that one later, with interest.

The third was Bryce. Gods, a crush is so bad for the spirit. It reminds me of what a porcelain doll must feel like being smashed by a sledgehammer. I had confused my position with that of a friend but he quickly disabused me of the notion with the aid of his acid laced sword.

He is difficult and abrasive. I’m never had to partake in any Patrons that have such disdain for every word I say. It will make for good practice, I think. It didn't take long for me to pick a heading in the conversation; something to help me wear him out or to tip his hand. If I keep my head clear, it should get easier.

It is strange. No matter how many times I remind myself of my position, of my purpose in company, I always enjoy myself too much that I forget all about it. I’m glad of what he did. It has straightened my priorities and resolve.

Now to work.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Sunshine]

The muffled voices of men fluttered in from behind the massive steel door.

”You cannot take him from us now. He is still unruly and has been giving the Madam all manner of trouble.” said the small, mousy man. He was adorned in faded clothes that hung off his slight frame like wet seaweed.

“He is already paid for. I will not stand to see my goods distorted.” The older man replied. His tone matched his stern appearance which once coupled with his considerable height made him quite intimidating.

“My Lord, please. Raw talent will only get him so far.”

“Open this door at once or I will have you arrested!” He barked backed with a drop of venom in his words. The mousy man scurried to open the door. The hinges groaned and creaked with effort before the stale smell of dust escaped from the room.

“Dear gods. Sawyer? Get me a healer! Now! Sawyer?...Sawyer?”

“Sawyer.” His smooth voice lured me out of sleep the way pie on a window sill draws out strays. I was still clutching the tome of Sune as if it were my shield; my only and last defense.

“Is She coming to save you? Is anyone coming?” The dim light of the room cloaked his presence but I could still see those cinder-like eyes staring at me.

“Perhaps I am here to save you.”

[Emotionaloverload]

[Pain]

The air was dense from heat that burned my lungs with every breath full. The bursts of lava blinded each glance and the hot sand seemed to shift under my steps. Entering was enough to dismantle me; a crushing feeling from all sides took over. It was inexplicable. The pain delayed thoughts and disrupted any hope of tactic.

Bryce got us out.

“Don’t fall.” He said.

He couldn't understand.


They.
Are.
Winning.


...and I have so little fight left to give.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Better the Devil You Know]

Sawyer glanced down at the note in his hand. “Key is atop the doorframe” It read. There was nothing unusual about requests like this. It appeared more cloak and dagger than the situation warranted but often times it was a married Patron or one concerned with reputation that couldn't be seen leading him in.

I wouldn't have come if the gold transfer wasn't so considerable. Half now, half later.

After a moment of searching for the key, he entered. The room was poorly lit by half spent candles and a dying fireplace. In a dark corner sat a figure with wine glass in hand. His frame was large and distinctly masculine.

“Take it off” That seductive, familiar voice creeped out from the corner. “I have something else for you.” A flicker of candlelight gave him away further; his dark skin, his exquisite clothes.

On the table were folded red and black Sembian silks littered with rubies, fire opals and black pearls. Alongside it was a silk and fur cloak laced with gold and mithril embroidery and accompanied by a magnificent onyx and gold clasp.

At least they can never say that I was a cheap buy. Predictable but never cheap.

“What do you want?” Sawyer said.

“Exactly what I paid for: your company. I’m not here to bully or persuade you. I’m here to talk like gentlemen because that is what we are, isn’t it?”

As the youth’s eyes adjusted to the room he noticed Waterdavian port wine, Cormyrian pastries and a chess set.

Now he is just cheating.

“Yes, alright. I just need to change.”

[Emotionaloverload]

[Absurdity]

I try not to pass judgement on those I haven’t met yet but this tenday I am making an exception. A drow, Wicket, has ransacked the Heartwood Grove and cast out any that disagree with her. Usually when something doesn’t influence me directly I tend not to give it a moment pause but I’m in search of the actual druids of the Circle for a discussion on Golems and Ethics for an apprentice.

My contention with the situation is two-fold. Firstly, this has removed the more obvious means of reaching the druids which turns the brief message into a legitimate hunt for them. Secondly, I find it utterly absurd that a drow roams around in broad daylight with two prominent settlements in walking distance and nothing has been done.

I would have expected the elven city of Myon to, at least, have some contingency for drow. I mean, come on! Are there leniencies for druidic drow that I am unaware of? I should hope not. I cannot be the only one that considers it poor form to allow a spawn of the Queen of the Demonpits to gain more ground than is absolutely necessary. I’ll have to look into it.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Dig Your Own Grave]

I had hoped to speak with Bryce further on our little project when I had speedied him. All my methods are about giving not taking so I have much to learn which he was going to help with. Instead I got summoned to an undisclosed location and greeted by three warded figures; Stath, Elaine and Bryce.

Stath looked as though he was carved from a mountain side then encased in metal while Lady Elaine was sporting an interrogative manner. As if that wasn’t enough, the setting was swarming with fifty foot tall undead and hordes of pirates. It was a lot like being put in a bag with two rabid wolverines before being expected to answer questions.

They wanted to help.

And they did. They helped me practise keeping my mouth shut around violent people even in high stress situations.

My headache was splitting after only a little while but I’m sure I didn’t concede to anything dangerous or incriminating. At least, I hope not. I was so nervous by the end of it that my stomach was churning. It made me see that I’m really very poorly equipped to handle this. I’ll have to work on it.

[Emotionaloverload]

[First Class Education]

I gathered the wizards for research, I mediated, I advertised, I got security for the field trip and gathered what was needed for the lecture room and when the time came the lecturers didn’t show. To say it was disappointing doesn’t even cover it.

I was so upset with them; my hands were almost shaking. Participants kept coming then leaving…it was terrible. By the end of it, barely a handful of us were left when Master Azyrah came to save the day.

I have never been in a classroom before. I’ve never had the need. All that I’ve ever had to learn came from dark rooms or incense filled halls. This was a bit jarring, at first, but then she got to talking. I have to say that she lost me a few times, mostly at the end.

The content was difficult, of course, but that wasn’t the entire reason. Part way through I started to understand how others might be attracted to their teachers. She was stern, confident, all knowing and absolutely delightful in her rich red clothes.

I tried so hard to focus on what she was saying and not the way she was saying it. Even staring at my desk for a while didn’t seem to work. Oddly, it seemed to help the distraction.

It was strange and wonderful. I hope to learn more from my new favourite teacher, soon.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Good Fight]

I spent the entire afternoon with the strangest monk I’ve ever met: Amadeo. When I think of a monk, I think of brown robes and shaved heads. It was nothing like that. He reminded me of a lantern in the midst of a snow storm; welcoming and safe.

We stood talking on the Bendir hills and I clung to every word he said. He spoke in such a bizarre way; so precise and delicate like a mediator. I loved it.

Between Amadeo, Azyrah and Him, I might actually learn something. He got me thinking. I’m not good at this new hobby of mine which brings me down a little and worse yet slows me down. He gave me a bit of direction. Although, that’s not fair to say; ‘A bit’ hardly covers it.

I guess it would be fairer to say that he showed me the road and a way over it. Now I just have to find those willing to also make the trip.

[Emotionaloverload]

[A Rally for Goodness, Right?]

The room was cold even with the noonday sun bursting in through all the windows. Sheets of frost coated the furniture and brittle spikes of ice protruded diagonally from the floor. In the middle of the disorder stood Sawyer; his eyes welled up with hot tears.

It only takes a moment to lose yourself in the moment.

“Sawyer, I need you to calm down now” said that same smooth voice: Him. It was useless to say; merely a formality. The opposing magic held the boy firm.

“I know you’re upset but being upset isn’t going to help anyone, is it? And you want to help, don’t you? You can’t let them go on like this. You can’t let them continue.” He whispered the words and yet somehow they carried all the way to Sawyer.

I can’t let them continue.

“Look at what they’ve done. They have upset you. You should upset them back. You should gather everyone to rally against them. All the people that they have hurt; all the people they are going to hurt. Help them, Sawyer.”

Rally a summit. A gathering. Help them help themselves.

The magic dispersed from the youth causing his weakened form to fall to the icy floor, unconscious.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Devil in Your Ear]

”Can’t you see that they don’t care about you? They are doing all this for themselves. All they want to do is find the best way to restrain you; a way to keep you in line so that you don’t give them any more trouble. Every injuring, every prod is an attempt to get past that soft armor of innocence. They want to hurt you and they have; all because you are weaker than them. Don’t let them win. Let me save you, teach you, make you strong.”

The room was chokingly hot that it woke me. I was sure that I left the window open for air…for escape, for refuge. But that air, that same air that helps, just seems to push me back. Push me down.

What did that matter now? There is nothing left but tears.

[Emotionaloverload]

[A Wish]

I had always wanted a friend. I had never had the chance for one. I have been working as long as I can remember. And before that I was learning by watching the others; watching my mother work. She was that much better than me. She never got nervous; she never stumbled in her words.

She knew exactly how to say what she needed to say. I could never do that. I have always been too ‘raw’ and unruly. Natural talent is no good without the practise and I’m difficult to teach. I’m soft and they always tried so hard to keep me that way.

I got the easy jobs. I got the jobs that were going to stay the night no matter who it was. Later I got the special requests and the Flowers. In the end, I managed the best work of all; an estate contract. Still, through all of that, not a single friend.

I’m not even sure how you do it. They don’t teach you that.

Bryce put his hand on my shoulder and I could swear he was going to hit me. “I treat you like a friend” he said. It was frightening to think that that was true. He doesn’t understand any of it and I don’t know how to make him understand. I don’t know how to do what he wants me to. Why does he always have to make this so hard?

I wish it was different.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Beauty Under Persecution]

Lady Daijin broke my heart today. I tried not to take it so poorly but I have been made raw this tenday by weapons training with Em and Amadeo. I shouldn’t be surprised; everyone on the island holds the same view of beauty and beautiful things. They don’t know how to appreciate them; how to consider them without a sexual component.

I don’t know how to remedy this. I feel it will permanently tarnish my view of her which is a sad thought. So many sad thoughts lately that it is difficult to keep up. There is no way I can explain it to her in just words because words don’t cover it. If I could give her my eyes for an hour, I would, so that she could see how beautiful the world is.

But now I’m hurt which makes me think that even if I could show her, she wouldn’t care for it. It is terrible to say, I know, but the thought is still there. It lingers like a ghost in an old, dusty house and I have no way to exorcize it.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Daydreams]

It took me an hour into a meeting about foreign relations and alliances before I realized I hadn’t heard a word anyone had said. My mind was floating in the clouds, as it had been most of the tenday.

I had had a wondrous time with Archmage Elizabeth but I wasn’t so sure that it ended well until I got her gift; a book. I must have read it cover to cover four times already as if I could somehow hear her with each word. It was intoxicating.

I am hoping to find time with her again, soon. Perhaps to discuss the administrative work that needs drafting and that I haven’t made much headway on even before my beautiful distraction. She has mastered the art of authority so she will be better suited to provide a perspective on it. I can’t imagine why she gave the task to me. I’m awful at making demands of others.

I’m going to have to make use of all those boundaries Amadeo is always talking about if I plan to make the meeting work related. It should be fun.