Ryzom

((OOC reminder that this is Jeziellia's personal journal. It is generally under her pillow, in a pocket, or in her pack, and not IC knowledge unless you somehow gain access. Something which I'd hope I'd be contacted about previously. *smiles* I'm glad people are continuing to enjoy reading as much as I'm enjoying writing. - Jenna.))

Davae Village, Majestic Garden of Verdant Heights

The Davae brigand fell at Jeziellia's feet. His hand grabbed for the front of her armor, leaving a smear of his own blood down her abdomen. Her sword dripped crimson in the snow. Around her there lay five other Matis, dead, their lifeblood spreading across the newly fallen snow. The crunch of a footstep caught her attention. She didn't turn; she waited.

"In the name of the Clutch!"

Jeziellia turned, raising her sword in time to parry the incoming blade. The man's blows were aggressive and came in quick succession. He left an opening in his defense, and Jeziellia took it, burying her blade into his middle. He slumped forward, his face a mask of surprise. Resting against Jeziellia's shoulder, he murmured something she couldn't understand. He coughed once, blood trickling down her arm.

Jeziellia turned to let the man fall away, and to remove her blade. An instant before the release however, she felt a searing pain in her side. The man had drawn a dagger from his sleeve and shoved it between her ribs. She jerked her sword free, pulling away from the man.

The dagger Was still in her side. She wrenched it free with a cry, and threw it at the corpse. Warmth spread down her side. Davae was just a few meters away. She'd just have to make it within sight of the guards...

The healer here in Davae says I can remove the bandage tonight. Jena's healing powers, and those of Atys were enough to make it little more than a minor scratch. I should have been more careful. The Karavan look at me with a little more esteem now, though, for having done these tasks for them. I wasn't certain how I'd handle killing another homin, but I've found it disturbingly easy.

Sometimes, I've even enjoyed it.

I don't want to think on this. I must get back to my errands. I must also remember that I owe Ema a letter soon. I hope she's well.

Kas said Enon may make the journey to the Lakelands.

Jeziellia put the journal back into her pack. She checked her equipment. Everything was in order. She removed the checklist from her pocket and looked it over. She had to return the blood samples she'd gathered, and visit the Turn of the Tide brigands on a "diplomatic" meeting. Shouldering her bag, she retrieved her sword from its place beside the healer's cot and set out.

Guest Quarters, Antonni Beni residence
Yrkanis, Majestic Garden of Verdant Heights

I can't believe him. I just can't! So what if I am always wandering over the world? I'm not half as good at it as Kas. So what if I harvest lesser materials? I'm not half as good at that as he is. And then to *scratched out lines*

I don't like it when people imply I do things and that somehow they are displeasing or incorrect, but doing it with a grin. Saying I'm always half a world away isn't true. I come back to Yrkanis when I know he's here because I want to.

Then to say that I could find somewhere to hang the armor he'd made for me, just because I liked the suit Haldir made for me? Is he jealous? I wish he'd just say so!

The grins, the playful jokes. I can't handle it anymore. Everything unsaid? It is maddening.

And why is it suddenly something that bothers me? Once I could have seen through the jests and taken them just as that. It's been different lately and I don't know why. I resent Enon a little bit, for the progress he's made, even though I've been working so hard. But he had better forethought than I did. I can't begrudge him that.

There's so many more positive things to write about, but for the first time, I walked away from a conversation angry. Angry is too strong. I was very upset. Am very upset.

I must remember to more properly thank Corporal Beni for allowing me to stay in his guest quarters. I couldn't think were else to go, and I didn't want to be alone. There's a wash basin. At least I can wash my face before I join him for tea.

Jeziellia shoved the journal under her pack on the guest bed. Moving to the small stand with the basin, she peered at her reflection in the polished shell fragment on the wall. Her eyes were rimmed with red from crying. "Such a temper tantrum," she said, her reflection reminding her of Ema. She could imagine the scolding her baby sister would give her and couldn't help but laugh a little. She washed her face. "Tomorrow I should apologize. To both Enon and Kas," she spoke to her reflection. With a sigh, she turned. Smoothing down the skirt Haldir had sewn for her, she exited the guest bedroom to have tea with the Corporal before retiring for the evening. It would help sooth her frayed nerves.

Towerbridge Way, Majestic Garden of Verdant Heights

For as much as I used to scold Ema, I can be more of a brat. I'm embarrassed by my behavior last night. Part of me knew he was just joking around - and harmlessly at that! - but a part of me just

I don't know what.

I've been in contact with Valko of the Dragonblades. I never thought I'd find myself getting along with a Fyros, but there it is. I rather enjoy his sense of humor, and that I could have an intelligent conversation with him. I do not wish to wear out the hand extended to me, to join the Dragonblades, but something makes me hesitate. Certainly not them.

As usual, I'm the only one in my way.

Ridiculous melodrama, that's what it is.

Today I'll run a few more errands, and then head back to the Kami Circle to see what nodes lace that area. Or maybe I'll change my mind and stay here in Towerbridge. Then again, I could always expand and find somewhere else to poke around at. Who knows. With so much out there, no wonder it's so hard to stay focused.

Maybe that is what makes me cranky.

Yrkanis, Majestic Garden of Verdant Heights

This is what I wanted, wasn't it? Or something like what I wanted? I'm certain he still means us as friends. It's the "but". "I will still be around, and there for you, but..."

Last night, I know he was so close to saying something that really meant something. And now? He's walked out without giving me a chance to say anything.

"Resolution at the price of hope."

No, I don't think this is what I wanted, but what else could I expect, when I offered him so little assurance of anything. I had none to give.

I'm glad he's remained in contact with the Dragonblades, independent of my influence. He would be a great asset to them, and they would be a good home for him, I think.

Home. It may have been best if I'd never left it.

Tomorrow I will put this from my mind, and focus on what I must do to make my way here. There is no one who will do it for me, no one who can.

Tomorrow.

With a feeble jerk of her arm, Jeziellia threw her journal across the rented room as sobs wracked her form again. She buried her face into the pillow Gyles had made for her, lying atop the varinx fur-lined blanket. When she was much younger, she remembered feeling this way, and remembered the words of her father as he held her against his shoulder while she cried, "This too shall pass."

"Oh Father," she murmured into her pillow, "how I wish you were here." She pressed her face harder against the pillow until it was almost too difficult to breathe. She missed the reassurance of her father's embrace. It was a safe place to hide. Here, she had no such thing.

In time, she was finally exhausted and lulled to sleep by the music of newly arrived spring.

Fraiders Camp in the Scorched Corridor of the Burning Desert

I'm sitting somewhere I never imagined existed. Down in the gorge along the southern expanse of the Desert, there's an encampment of Frahars that are not as vicious as their desert wandering kin. In fact, they seem rather friendly. A little rowdy, but I can see why Valko likes this place so well.

He's sleeping just across the camp, and looks as peaceful as I ever remember seeing him. Dinradir is here somewhere, I think. Else, he disappeared in the shadows and found somewhere quieter and more to his liking to rest.

The journey was a little harrowing. Perhaps the most disturbing part was at the Kami teleporter. Valko has taken up the banner of the Pyr Militia, pledged to the Kami in the war between the Divinities, and something in the area around the Kami guardian seemed to block my magic. I couldn't heal him, or otherwise help him against the kipucka and kinchers that had us cornered for a good while.

Elavali was with us for most of the journey, but an injury while passing through the cluster of kitins was too much for her to continue on with. I hope she's recovered and is well.

I could rest here. Jena knows, I'm exhausted. If not physically, then otherwise. Instead, I know I will explore. If I can get past this zerc and the tyrancha that pace the borders of the camp, I think I saw a tunnel int he cliff face, not far from this camp. I want to see if it leads anywhere.

Valko showed me the tunnel that leads to Windy Gate. That is how I know, now to look for such tunnels along the way. Then perhaps I will see what this place has to offer in way of materials, before I make my way back to the proper surface of Atys.

Jeziellia put her journal back in her pack and looked over to where Valko lay sleeping. Her hand strayed to the dagger that now graced her belt. Her hand gripped the hilt tightly, her knuckles turning white. "If I ever see you on the battlefield, use that blade on me, asI could never use it upon you." His words rang in her mind. She prayed that day would never come. "I pray it does," he'd said, "Who better to slay me than you?"

Her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand, the pain bringing her out of her memories. She released the hilt with a small sigh. The tribe chief, Rrak rested a hand on her shoulder. Though his face was very much that of an animals, his eyes held something too homin-like to ignore. She bowed her head in respect and he moved on to tend to his duties.

She stood, shouldering her pack, and set out to see if she could navigate the Scorched Corridor, as well as her Fyros guide had managed.

Somewhere in the Dunes of Exile of the Burning Sands

I thought, even though he said differently, that there was still some kind of hope. I'm just stupid and foolish. I should have known better, and should never have let myself fall into this from the beginning. From careplanning for him in the jungles of Silan, to everything since then. For the first time, someone tells me that they love me, only to follow up with the word "but". There's a note to remember, Jez. "I love you, but..." He says "but it isn't fair to you."

But it's not fair to me? How is this fair to me? I know it isn't fair to him that I don't want to commit to anything. He deserves that, doesn't he? It isn't fair to either of us. Not safe for him, he says.

I wish I could erase it all for him.

I joined the Order of the Dragonblades today. It seems somehow lessened, now that I had to walk away from him. It is how it should have been the first time, but he caught me off guard. So I did it. I lifted my chin and used every bit of dignity still left in me to hold everything together. I wanted to cry. I wanted him to hold me, to tell me everything would be fine. But it isn't. It won't be, will it?

If I had known that kiss, that night, was going to be the last, I wouldn't have enjoyed it so much.

I want to blow away like the dust on the top of the dunes.

I'm sorry that I can't. That I can't do so many things.

Jeziellia laid on her back on top of the dune, her journal laying in the sand next to her bag and equipment. Her were arms stretched out to her sides, and she stared up at the storm-darkened sky. The wind whipped sand across her still form, and wisps of her hair danced in the gusts. She watched the carrion birds circling in the distance, and for a moment, wondered how long it would take to expire if she were truly lost in the desert's wastes.

"I can be like you," she spoke to the desert night. "Your clouds never let the water fall. They storm, and they pass, and you show us the serenity of stars and the water and the wind."

Tears spilled from her eyes, and were quickly absorbed into the dry desert sand.

Fraiders Camp in the Scorched Corridor of the Burning Desert

Jeziellia rolled over on her side and curled tighter into a ball inside the niche of the cliffwall where she slept and whimpered. The Fraiders kept their distance from the strange homin woman and her night terrors. Sometimes she sobbed and sometimes she cried out.


Jeziellia opened her eyes. In the distance, she saw the Fraiders going about their daily routine. They were somewhat subdued and a few seemed to be watching her. She was curled up in a niche in the cliff wall, but she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there. She rubbed her eyes. There was sand on her face, where the wind had blown it, and it had clung to her tears. She sat up carefully. Her entire body ached.

Her mind slowly sorted nightmares from reality, and the memories of the previous night came back to her, and slammed into her like a punch to the stomach. She slid from the niche to the ground, on her knees. Her stomach heaved, but there was nothing there to expell. She rested there, on her hands and knees, until she'd caught her breath. She was aware of Fraider eyes watching her still.

She collected herself and sat up, smoothing her skirt, and then running her fingers through her hair. Looking around, she located her bag and took out her journal, retreating into her thoughts and hoping to sort them out.

It's as if I've been dreaming for the last couple of days. Some strange series of dreams, and nightmares. Last night, did I really say that to him? Did I really walk away? He hates me, I'm sure of it. It may be for the best, since I can't -

No, not can't. I'm unwilling to give him what he wants. Maybe he was right when he said that it has never been about what he wants. It hasn't. He knew that it wouldn't be, since the night on the Spire. He knew! And he pushed anyway.

I can't begrudge him that. isn't it what we all want? One person to love us, and to love in return, above and before all others?

I don't know if I meant what I told him. Time and freedom. It doesn't matter if it was true anymore, it has been said. It is done. It sounded terrible, and I knew it was wrong when I said it, but I kept saying it.

I have hurt and lost my truest friend. What a monster I've become.

He'd said that he believed I'd take the blame for releasing the Kitins, if the Fyros hadn't beaten me to it, long before I was born, and I understand what he means. But in this? This is my doing, and I don't know that it can be undone. Maybe before I saw him in Yrkanis again. Maybe before I tried to explain my childish whims. Maybe before -

He won't hear what I have to say anymore, with any trust or belief. I cannot blame him for that either, with the hurt that's passed from my lips. "Forget me." "Never." "Then pretend." It makes my soul sick, but now what option is left for me? Nowhere on Atys is far enough away. I have to pretend. The hurt will pass, won't it?

If I am not the woman he knew, as surely I cannot be to do this to him, then who am I?

Jeziellia closed her journal, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging the book to her, resting her forehead on her knees.

Letter from Emaelle, Silan:

My Dear Sister,

While we were both taught the formalities of proper letter writing, you must excuse my breach of decorum when I ask - What in the name of Jena is happening with you? Your letter, if I read it correctly, indicates you are rather out of sorts. I could barely read the ramblings about Enon and your - correct me if I read the word wrong - fears.

Jezi, my dear sister, you are too fearful of the wrong things. A man's affections are not something to be frightened of, unless it is that Kyrim boy. I've heard the stories of you, here on the island. Some still speak of your recklessness (usually called "bravery" but I've adjusted it to reflect the truth more accurately) in facing the kitins without so much as a shell on your head for protection. Bravery or stupidity, you have displayed a fearlessness that I'm uncertain I would possess in the same situation. You've always thrown yourself into danger. Try enjoying, now and again, having someone protect you. There is no shame in putting trust in another homin, nor in relying on them. You cannot possibly believe you can do everything for yourself! What terrifies you so much about the idea letting someone make you happy?

Yes, dear sister, I know you disbelieve me. You think I'm a spoiled brat, as is your right as my sibling. For once, though, consider my words as someone who loves and cares about you.

I am doing well here, if not missing my old friends from home. You do remember what friends are, don't you? I've been practicing my swordplay, and I find I prefer it to all other things. Those trainers are harsh taskmasters. That Tryker almost got me killed! sending me into Silan to forage! I threw my pick at Sterga when he said something rather condescending to me about how I decided to stitch a hemline. I spent a day shoveling mektoub dung for that. Next time I'll aim better.

I haven't yet delved into magical studies. Chiang insists that soon I must. Given the kinds of trouble I've caused, and the leniency the Rangers have shown, I will consider his suggestion.

Please take care of yourself, Jezi.

With Sisterly Love,

Ema

P.S. Congratulations on becoming a member of the Order of the Dragonblades. Perhaps they will do you some good.

Towerbridge Way, Knoll of Dissent of Verdant Heights

This morning was a little more chill than I expected. My fingers ache from the efforts of harvesting last night. I was concentrating so hard, and had my hands tensed for far too long. Valacor asked questions I wasn't certain I could face. Face them I did, I suppose.

Tonight, Valacor has offered to show me a place he likes in Fleeting Garden. I can guess where it is, but I will go nonetheless, and not mention that I'd known of it. Assuming I am correct in my guess.

Enon taught him to careplan. He careplanned for me last night. I could tell who'd taught him, without his confirmation. He even has the same tattooing that Enon bore during our time on the island of Silan. No matter the subject matter, I find my mind turns always to thoughts of him.

I saw him at the stables earlier in the evening, but he did not notice me. I have taken to approaching from the side and tending to my mektoubs out of the way of the normal bustle. I watched him for a few moments as he readied his things. On his way out he waved to a woman, smiled at her. While I was out harvesting with Valacor, I saw Lucida too. She's such a sweet girl, and I know she's been a friend to Enon and Kas both. Still, both incidents, so close together with Valacor's well-intentioned questioning stirred something uncomfortable in me.

I may yet sit here a few hours and watch over this plain. Enon and I would once sit on the Spire of Silan and talk. I realized last night that, though we'd spent time together, we had not just talked. Not since we came to Yrkanis. Not the way we did on Silan.

Did I get too caught up in everything to notice?

I received a letter from Ema. I do not know what I'll send back to her.

When I was in the Scorched Corridor, I dreamt of Enon. I dreamt of him inside the fire, burning away. I could only watch and cry out to him. I could not hear him, though it seemed he spoke, and he turned away from me. I reached out to him but the fires expanded, and my hands were consumed in the flame. I saw them burn, crack, and wither, but I couldn't feel it. Instead I felt the fire in my chest and it spread through the inside of me, until it consumed everything. Enon was blown away by a desert wind, little more than ash, and I was a husk, filled wtih fire. It was my eyes, and when I opened my mouth, it was like peering into a lantern. When I cried out, the final time, as the last of Enon drifted on the invisible wind, flames came in a wave from my lips and seemed to consume the last of his ashes.

Last night I dreamt of fire as well. It was the dream where I floated. I reached for the ball of flame, a great sun, which was above me. In other dreams, I have grabbed it, and it has burnt me. In this, try as I may, I could not reach. Where my tears fell below me in the dark, fires sparked. The same dream as so many times before, except that I couldn't reach, and I didn't fall. I simply longed for one or the other, with no release from the darkness.

Jeziellia stared at the pages of her journal for a few long minutes, expressionless, before finally closing it, and putting it into her pack. Gathering her belongings together, she prepared to set off back to Yrkanis.