Fate tawnts me I think. I walk to get away frum peepul. to be alone. I walk in the middal of the woods to try to be me agin. To try to put myself in ordar. To make the falling feeling go away frum in me. I walk to walk. To make sure no one can find me.
And who do I almost walk rite into? Bjar.
Crule.
In the Middal of the woods, with no one arownd. And ther he is. Can't I just be dapressed alone fer onss? He wuz in a big angar. That is one emoshin he duz not wer well. Of corss, he woud not admit it, he just let it boil and boil on the surfiss of him. It woud spit out at me evin tho I new it was not me he was angree with. And it still hurt.
I no I make him angree and sumtimes leeve him with no words becuz I am so dum. I no that. I no it makes him mad and crazy at me. Frustratid. He alredde puts so much on himself that I do not want to worree him with my littal problims. I do not want him to worry no mor then he has to. He can not handal it veree well. His worry turns to frustrashin, then angar. Hurtfal angar.
I offared to help him, but he duz not want it frum me. He turnd it arownd on me. Made me tell him why I was falling. So I told him. I told him why.
He woud not undarstand. I new he woud not. Onlee Missus Nybrylla woud undarstand and frum the rumars I heer...
I do not no no mor.
I think I am alone now. Mebbe Bjar thinks he stands by me, mebbe he evin wants to be the one by me, to hold me up... But, ther are manee things evin he duznt want to see. I feel like he is flying away on me. He is so importint and I am such a nuthing. Soon I think he'll see that and go away ferevar on me lik evaryone else. He has things to do and I am jus here to fite and to die. To wait fer that time. He has a meening. He keeps moving away frum me, mor and mor. He duznt see it, but I do.
Worss, I feel it in my hart, stabbing me lik a red hot daggar.
I need to lern not to love him no mor. I need to lern it. I need to make the feelings go away. I do not no how to change my hart tho. I do not no how to live by anathin but wat I feel.
I do not want to be poisin like evaryone. Like the Gods told me evaryone is.
Mebbe evin Bjar is poisin.
I was in the Crimson Wyvern taday and I herd a song I had not herd in a long time.
I am not the butee, I am the beest,
I am not the holy moons, I am the night,
I am not the growing vine, I am the root.
Fer the first time I think I undarstood this song. I am not the butee eethur, I am the beest. I am the root, I am evarything else... the part peepul to not want to look at but no is needid. The part no one wants.
It is spring and evaryone is in love with sumone. I am to but it duz not mattar becuz I no it it nuthing to him. But on the othar side his love is nuthing to the persin he loves as well. Horrabal plass we have both put us into. Harts a crule like that. It is love that goz to wast. I watch peepul kissing and touching and looking so happy. Fer a momint I think they are cleen and pure and the darkniss is far far away.
I think I must be veree dirty cuz I do not think anaone can love me as anathin mor then a sistar or a frend. That is a hurt that stings deep. Nuthing I can do but smile tho. So I smile. I cannot let this hurt me. I cannot let it. I cannot change the feelings of othars harts.
Spring...
I hate spring.
It always raminds me wat it is to be alone. I see all the pretty girls smiling with men grabbing them frum all sides. Men doing anathing fer them.
Aubren's words still hawnt me. Duz evaryone think I am nuthin but my hammar? That it is all I want? That I am so emptee and shallow that all I wish for is war and battal? Balor above me and below me... I am still human rite?
I am not the hammar, I am the hand.
I am not the fist, I am the rage.
The sad thing is I think I am bacoming nuthing but the hammar.
Fite. I do like to fite.
I also like my fite to mean sumthin.
My mind was not on the bar reelee wen the brawl brok out. My mind wuz on the childrin. Gods... agin. Agin sumone went fer them.
I did not reelee want to fite, I wantid to drink myself into sleep. Dark nuthing sleep. Mebbe I was looking fer a fite. It seemed to just fall on me frum no were. Ah well...Lots of peepul aginst Aubren and me. We won. Balor Blessed us in battal. He must have. I got hit by a chair and a daggar. Not so bad. I did git a sukar punch in the jaw. My mum woud laff and laff at me.
I think the Gods must be aginst me having the shirt I do. Fer the seccind time it got ruind. I have not got it fixd yet. In the fite sumone touchd my brest. That made me mad. Rude! it is an imporpar thing to do.
Aubren got hurt. But not bad. I went to see him in the hospatal. He kwit the Gard. He sed he feels bettar now. That is good. Me and him mak a good teem. he is going to teech me to use swords. And I am going to teech him to move bettar. I askt him to teech othar peepul with me. I think that will be good fer me and him.
One year...
It has bin a hole year sinss I have bin put into silinss in my head. One year sinss Melchior turnd me away. One year sinss I have become an in batween persin. If I coud beg for him to take me bak, I woud. But it will do no good. I no that. I woud walk on daggars fer the rest of my life just to not be in this in batween plass. Evarywere I look there are spirals, fethurs... monks. And then ther is me.
Wat am I?
Oh well. It duz no mattar no mor wat I am, just that I am. I think peepul will always suffar and that it duz not mattar wat they are. Suffar as Dryth, suffar as wat I am now. Did Melchior reelee think I woud not suffar like this? I wish I coud just rapent. I wish I coud just...
Ther is no one I can talk to abot this. No one reelee listins. No one evar duz. They act like it, but they onlee heer wat they think I am saying. Like I am speekin in riddals.
One Year.
How many mor to go?
Why is it bak home evaryone calld me a monstar but no one here thinks I am? I do not undarstand it attall. I think it is becuz I smile mor then othar peepul. Becuz I am honist. I do not no.
I have not bin sleeping or eeting sinss the prayar circle. I have not bin tired or hungry. I have had a few dreemliss naps in the dojo. I sit to rest for a bit and slip away for a wile. I do not feel bettar tho. I hav bin doing nuthing but training. It taks my mind away and I like that.
I still feel veree far away frum peepul. Bjar and I had a talk but I still feel like he is far away. Rising up and flying away on me. He wants me to be like me agin. He wants things to be the same. Batween him and me they are the same, jus mebbe how we see them is diffrint. My skin duznt feel like mine no mor. I pray so hard to Balor and melchior to help me to fokiss. To help me be rite agin. I pray veree hard but I think I have fallin to far away to heer nuthing.
I am still trying to put all of my feelings bak togethur. it is hard. They are like a millin gazillin of my voisis all screeming at onss. They want to come out but I swallow them down so I do not turn into a monstar like evaryone else turns into. I do not want to be poisin like them. I want to be me. But I think... I think I am the biggist poisin of all becuz my venim lays hiddin down deep in me. It duz not wake up oftin. Like the snake that promissd not to bite the wolf who helpt it but bit it anaway.
I ramembar the storee I told Sehki and Hemo. I do not think they reelized that the monstar in the storee was me. mebbe if I see them agin I will tell the next part of the storee.
I do not ekspect to evar see no one agin no mor.
Peepul go away to much.
If I do not ekspect them to come bak, then they can not reelee go away.
To much has happind latlee. To much. It is hard to sort out all of the feelings in me. Bjar died, the came back. He told me abot a Mum and a child he is sapposd to pertekt. Onlee the Mum is the city. It was veree confuzing. I try hard to undarstand but i still can not do it.
I feel veree far away frum Bjar now. Like he is so far abuv me that evin my long arms can not reech him. It is like that time Melchior took me away into white and showd me a sword. I tryd to reech it but coud not. I feel veree far away frum evaryone rite now. Almost like I am walking arond in a diffrint plass frum evaryone else. I do not undarstand wat is going on but nuthing feels rite to me no mor. Nuthing is rite.
I hate this feeling of being in batween evarything. Like I do not balong. I hate it. I no I am not a part of nuthing no mor. My purpiss is just to Fite. To die. I do not no wat side I am on. I do not evin no wat the sides are. I do not mind dying lik that. I want to die fiting. That is good I think. I do not want to die like a coward and take my own life. Wen Bjar died I reelizd that. I reelizd how lonlee and far away frum evaryone I am.
I do not want peepul to pity me. I see the look in ther eyes and I hate it. During the prayar, sumthing in my changd. Sumthing I can not put bak wer it goze. it is hard to think of myself as Tzoli anymor.
Wen I train, I do not feel like I did before. My mind bacomes cleer and mor fokissed than it usd to. Eech movmint seems to have mor purpiss. Mebbe I reelee have reefhd the highist level now. As I train, the world falls away frum me. I am the hammar and the fist and they are me. It sets all my voisis to rest. it makes my hart calm.
It is all I want to do now.
I want to live in the momint wer I am my weppin and it is me and the world is gone.
Bjar, Sehki, Rylian, Aubren, Niko... no one is left but me and Balor. Or mebbe it is just me who is left.
I want to fite.
Not spar. Fite.
I want it to mattar. I want it to be reel. No one worth my time spars me no mor. I take eech match sereeiss but I do not lern nuthing.
I am so far away frum myself.
I do not no if I will find my way bak.
I am scard I will not be Tzoli no mor.
I new wen he kissed me. I new then.
That is three of them. Three peepul I have loved and three who have died in my arms. I new frum the begining he did not love me bak. I new he woud nevar want me. I new he woud nevar want nuthin mor. I new. I always new that. It is why I sed nuthing. But, I also new that he new how I felt.
But, in the end Bjar is a liar to. He sed he woud always be with me. That he woud not go away lik evaryone else, but he did. He went away and he did it in front of me. I am angry. With him, with me. With evarything.
I am evin angry at Melchior. I no that is a sin. I no it is rong. I no I shoud not feel like that for a God. But Melchior savd me and did not save him. Melchior savd sumone he threw away and did not save his prieest. He did not save one of His Children. He savd me tho, like I am worth sumthing.
Why?
Why am I always let here?
Wen Niko died it was on fire. And I was on fire to. I thot I woud die then. But I did not. When Rylian died I thot I woud die fiting the captin to save Nybrylla. Now, with Bjar ded, the onlee thing I think abot is Melchior saving me in the Dragon's Head that night.
Mebbe Morhiag hates me. Mebbe she duz not want me. Mebbe I did sumthing veree bad and this is how she is gitting ravenge on me... by keeping me alive. (Not unlike the Vek in my old dreems.)
I took Bjar's body to his famalee. His brothar was ther... He was on his way out to the bars. He did not seem veree surprized wen I told him, but he did seem veree sad.
Bjar askt me to help the gard before he died. He told me not to rage. I think that was the hardist part. The hardist part was not to fall away. I coud feel myself breking and breking and breking. But I pushd it away. I pushd it down deep, away to the dark plass inside me.
Now, I have to train mor. I have to git reddde. I have to not think abot this anymor.
I have to go bak to being me.
A Clearing Within the Woods
The woods break at this mound of earth that gradually rises to a height of
three feet above the rest of the forest floor. Its top is covered by a thick
mass of healthy green knee-high grass. The occasional spots of red and blue
can be seen amongst the grass, their presence providing the area with a
pleasant scent. Towards the centre of the clearing, the ground looks trampled
and as one examines more closely, it appears as if this area may of been used
for training at one point; discarded broken hilts, scraps of shields and other
remnants seen lying amongst the grass.
A few spots of blood pepper the ground here.
The corpse of a svelte young man is lying here.
A large lily, with shimmering pearl like petals lies here.
(x3) Stalks of brightly coloured wild flowers peek up from amongst the grass.
A short, plump woman with wrinkles speaking of her age is standing slighty away from the group, wondering what to do..
A tall, young man with a somewhat effeminate leanness kneels, staring in horror at Bjar, whose life bleeds out onto the field.
A tall, blonde-haired man with eyes the color of ice is kneeling a short distance from a svelete man.
"LEAVE!" Tzoli shouts, looking up at the people still present. She grips the dagger in her hand and throws it at a nearby tree. "Get out of here!!"
a tall, young man pauses, looking back, obviously reluctant to leave. He turns around, and, after a moment of opening his mouth and choking, he sputters out, quietly, in a voice scraped raw. "But, Tzoli... What should we do to honor him? What should we do with his body?" He speaks slightly fearfully, clearly afraid to upset her further.
a tall, blonde-haired man pauses, his gaze turning towards a tall, young man, "Come with me recruit," he more or less orders, the light now being lifted to cast it's bluish glow over the area, his blood soaked hands not seeming to have any affect on the item. "His sacrifice in itself was honorable. Let Tzoli honor him in private," that said he turns to leave, not looking back to see if the others follow him or not.
a tall, young man looks at a tall, blonde-haired man, pausing, still hesitant, but finally nods. "Yes, sir." He turns one last, sad glance toward Tzoli, before moving to follow a tall, blonde-haired man away from the clearing, moving slowly, as though carrying a burden on his shoulders.
a short, plump woman turns to leave, "Perhaps we should honor her wishes, and leave this place now. Melchoir will be proud of his sacrifice, and this place will be his as long as we remember. For now, we should go, and let him find peace."
Tzoli closes her eyes, her whole body shaking as she grips her now empty hand into a fist, opening the earlier wound. She opens her eyes and looks down at the body, gritting her teeth. Her face twists into a wretched expression, making her seem even uglier than normal.
A tall, blonde-haired man starts to walk east.
A short, plump woman starts to walk east.
A tall, young man starts to walk east.
A tall, blonde-haired man walks east.
A tall, young man walks east.
A short, plump woman walks east.
Tzoli looks down and kicks the body. "Stupid! Stupid Stupid STUPID!" She rams her foot into the body again and again. Rage on her face. "Stupid LIAR! I HATE YOU!" Soon her boot is covered in blood and gore as she takes her rage out on the body. "You PROMISED ME! You stupid liar! I'll Never fergive You! NEVER!"
"COWARD! Stupid COWARD LIAR!" Tzoli rams her other foot into the body now. "You were my friend. I loved you! Why? I love you..." She falls to her knees, no longer able to lift her legs. Brings her hands to her eyes, dropping her hammer. After a moment, her face twists again and she rams her hand into the ground.
You think to yourself: 'Gods... why? Why this? *anguish* Why now? When I only just realized. I knew he would never love me, I knew, but why take him away like this? Why save me and not save him? Why save someone as worthless and stupid as me? Why save me so many times and take him? I don't understand this. I'm not this strong. I want to be.... I don't want to break anymore... I don't want to go away.'
You think to yourself: 'Balor... why couldn't I save him? Why? Why couldn't I move? Why couldn't I do this? Are my sins that great? Are they that horrible?'
You think to yourself: '*focus* I didn't deserve him anyway. I wasn't strong enough. *acceptance* I'm sorry Bjar. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to save you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I'll get stronger for you... I'll get stronger.'
You think to yourself: 'May Morhiag take you into Annwn and may you find the happiness I couldn't give you... may you find the peace. May you find the loving arms of your family. Say hello to my mum for me. Tell her I love her and I'm trying really hard down here still.'
You think to yourself: 'I'll see that your family knows what happened. I'll take this body to them. Maybe they won't hate me. *frustration* *overwhelming grief* Why is it always after I realize that I love them? Why then? Why do they have to die then?'
Bjar told me sumthing bad. He sed a hole lot of demmins are coming. He seemd veree... scard. He duz not wer it well eethur. He sed he wuz going to have manee prayers to try to stop it.
Sumtimes I think the Gods do not want to help us. If they did, ther would be no mor darkniss. Mebbe they do want to help us but they see all of the peepul with no faith and it makes them angry so they do not help. Manee peepul have no reel faith. They speek the names of the Gods with no feeling it it. No meening. They do not reelee worship. For theez peepul the Gods are a far away thing, sumthing that is not part of ther life evaryday like it shoud be. Lip Serviss... I think that is the words for it. Wen the sky falls down, the only thing theez peepul care abot it themselvs.
At the prayer Bjar is going to have i want to be ther for Balor. I think I can do it. I think I no a good prayer to use. maybe this will help bring mor peepul bak to Balor. If I am good anuff I think I can do it. I saw the way peepul stred at me wen I sang and wen i told a storee. I think I can do that agin. I no I can if it is for balor and the Gods. I can at leest be that strong.
I will even talk with that weerd Viroth aksent evaryone has. I can mimik it purty well now. That will make evaryone saprized I think. THey is always telling me to speek rite. I do speek rite. I speek like I speek. That is the rite way, all the othar ways are fake. The other ways are a lie.