From the Realm of Shadows #8 - Dreams

Little have I slept while in this realm, except when the cat insisted on it. At first I did not wish to risk my guide scampering off while I rested but it has always done some small thing to ensure that I am awake before departing. It sneezed once, for example.

The dreams here have been few but odd. The most recent dream before we entered the Jungle included the Regent and tea. But I cannot recall all the details. I remember being annoyed with her and very much wanting her to leave, but she was confusing and stubborn. And said something about canning. Still, the familiar voice and mannerisms were welcome after many days without them. Even if they were not real.

If it is possible I will try to not sleep anymore lest vulnerabilities reveal themselves. And if the cat does decide to abandon me at an inopportune moment.

From the Realm of Shadows #7 - Monsters

The Wyrm made an appearance. Though I did not see it because the cat and I hid from it. It trembled the earth and when I asked what it did, the feline responded, “Eats.”

When the Wyrm passed the cat informed me that my beloved was most likely in “the Web” here in this realm. Why this particular place? It replied that it was because my darling used magic. And if my beloved was not already dead, they soon would be. This information renewed my energy.

The cat led across the plains for a time, supposedly having some business in the direction of the Web and allowing me to follow. But soon it spotted flying things in the sky above. We hid immediately but the monsters followed. The cat said that if we continued they would strike when we appeared weakest. Its plan was to wait until the fliers became bored of stalking us and departed.

I could not wait. I stepped from the hiding place and pulled one of them down and killed it. They had the wings of bats and faces like hyenas. The others descended- but the details of the fight are of no moment. I destroyed all of them.

Emerging, the cat commented in mild tone that we no longer needed to wait. I rather agreed.

From the Realm of Shadows #6 - Viere

“If you kill me, never will you know. Put me down for our old friendship, Annjia. I have suffered as you do not imagine. Let your old Master help you!"

This he said to me as I held him by the neck and prepared to crush it. Unfortunately it was persuasive. Viere’s presence after the battle was not something I anticipated because Mirtai had told me that he was dead. She was incorrect. I do not think this was a deliberate fabrication on her part. She believed he was, and so I did also.

The Nath’rezim, when he made Mirtai mortal, had occupied Viere’s body and placed his spirit into the body of the imp. Mirtai even mentioned the imp once to me offhand – I should have given it more attention. This was also what caused my hesitation at the beginning of the battle. I knew that confronting the enemy meant that I would see Viere's face again, even if it was not truly him anymore. But it seems he was punished heavily these long months. He was nearly dead in that pathetic form. Bloodied and beaten.

It was also with him that I made the pact for the means to enter this realm and search for my beloved. Thus I avoided contact with any that might try to help or prevent it. I was not in possession of faculties that would facilitate explaining why I had bargained with my own devil. May I be forgiven if this dark deal is fulfilled.

From the Realm of Shadows #5 - One of a Kind

The cat and I had a brief chat while resting during the journey. It still has made no official offer of guidance but I mustered some of my persuasive abilities to entice its interest. It made a few queries, including asking what I was.

When I told it, it did not seem surprised and said that there was more of my kind here. While it is only my darling I look for, it suggested that I may find a few others. To me this resounded like a warning. I have avoided them as much as possible due to the risk of association. The cat also said that I had not anticipated just how difficult it would be to recover my “friend.”

But this is why I told everyone else not to expect my return.

From the Realm of Shadows #4 - Words

We met in Orgrimmar.

You were traveling home after a long day of working in that stuffy office. The head of accounts, you called yourself. You were dressed neatly and were very professional in your address. Even when you sat freshly bleeding from an attack. I protected you and took you away to a safe place.

I thought I knew what I was doing and what I wanted. You changed that. It was I who first expressed interest but you were the first to say those words. It was about a year ago, during the fire festival. I brought the festival to you by pilfering the floating candle-wreaths and putting them on our lake. One of the wreaths escaped and had to be retrieved by swimming. You liked the presentation a great deal.

A few things I said to you, and then you said those words. It was very confusing and some time was needed before they were answered properly.

You deserve to hear them again, darling. And infinitely many more times.

From the Realm of Shadows #3 – My Guide

I walked for some time and descended into a canyon with jagged walls. While there I discovered deep grooves cut into the stone, terminating with an odd oval object. A voice startled me as I drew close to try to identify it.

The voice belonged to a cat. As ordinary in size as any other and completely black save for one white sock. It spoke politely but was a bit aloof (as I imagine any cat would if they possessed the power of speech). I asked who it was, and it thought I was silly for asking. It was a cat.

I introduced myself and answered his question as to why I was there. It said that I was like the shadows, but was not one. When I expressed curiosity it told me that it was there hunting lunch. Small rodents apparently, those too busy listening for “the Wyrm” instead of it. The cat identified that oval object as a giant scale. No offer was made to help me but when I asked about the shadows, the cat began to move.

Since then I have followed it, with little else said. Viere told me that I needed to find a guide, but to trust no one. Yes, that name was recorded accurately. I shall write on that later.

From the Realm of Shadows #2 - The Battle

I continue to reflect on the fight with the Nath’rezim, and calculate on how I could have erred so badly.

The strategy worked at the beginning. Nathan successfully drew the demon out of Viere’s Labyrinth. He hid behind a knoll and supported me with gunfire while I held the enemy’s attention. Early it was clear that I could not throw the Soul Anchor as I had learned to, because of how quickly he raised fel shields against bullets. I had to move closer.

I think it was my hesitation in those first few moments when he emerged from the underground that made the difference. But I had prepared for that moment. Mirtai told me what I should expect to see. But it still affected me.

Nathan was tossed aside like a doll. I finally closed the distance to the demon and Ruin cut at him, he grabbed me by the neck and sank his claws into my chest in an attempt to rip out my heart. I could not retaliate as he uttered grim intentions for both of us. Then my beloved was there. Rising behind the demon and in full manifestation of dark power, D.A. sank Whisper in between the enemy’s shoulders.

The demon pulled his hand from my chest and plunged it into my beloved’s. There was no armor mitigating the blow.

It afforded me the chance to impale the Soul Anchor into the enemy and smite him to the ground. The Anchor banished him perpetually from this realm. But when I turned and saw my beloved the victory vanished.

From the Realm of Shadows #1 - The Reason

I write from the Realm of Shadows. This journal I took with me in order to record my thoughts and settle my nerves in the absence of friendly company. And to remind me.

This is a place of darkness and death. The air is acrid and the sky a swirl of blue, black and purple. The ground is grey with a thin sandy road. Its entrance opened on the lake precisely where and when the imp said that it would. He also warned of spirits that would try to block my path, and what I saw beneath the dark waters was indeed distressing. My possessions are few. Scarce supplies, the sword my darling gave me, Viere's metal gauntlet, and Whisper and Ruin.

Why have I come here? The reason is really quite direct. The imp told me that while my beloved was dead, the essential part – the soul – went to this realm. The way the body faded in my arms and drifted into the shadows, I had to believe it. All that my mind could seize on then was trying to find my love.

It is a great risk I take for this information. And a high price to pay if I do succeed and return. But I must write on that another time. The darkness closes in again and I do not wish to waste the lantern.

Saying Goodbyes

I dispatched letters and visited others before preparing to depart. Not everyone could be written to or contacted with the limited time, nor do I possess the energy to explain it all.

Nemeiah shrank from me when I told her where I was going. Or it could have been because I rejected her offer of prayer. I hope that she will forgive me.

Mirtai’s sympathy moved me in an unexpected way. I told her that I was sorry for how terrible I had been to her. And she wept and asked my forgiveness in turn. She said that she had never felt genuinely content or warm before coming to this house. She then hugged me and offered some of herself so that I could heal and begin the journey.

Nathan, who sustained serious wounds during the battle, I designated as her protector. He would have occupied this role regardless; their affection for each other is unmistakable now. If I am not successful and do not return as I anticipate, at the least I will know that she is cared for.

Done

It is done.

But I am undone.

My darling is gone.

Where I go now no one else can follow. A dark deal have I made for hope.

Scouted

Utilizing a combination of my knowledge of the grounds in Tirisfal and deployment of D.A.’s magic, the enemy has been located. That he was so easy to find, and in a place that I expected indicates that his confidence and security is high.

It should be no surprise that Nathan is eager to join the fight. According to the plan he is given a special task that will take advantage of his fervor and disdain for the demon. After all, he and Mirtai have lost more. But as my beloved reminds me, he is fragile in a different way than we are. Mirtai will be moved and shielded in order to protect her from any retribution the enemy may attempt at a distance. She will not accompany us to Tirisfal. Her response to this was muted worry, but she was obedient.

The pieces are moving on the board. Let this be finished on the same grounds that I have met defeat time and again. Let it be done.

Emotions

It has sometimes been noted to me that I do not display emotions easily. That there is no particular struggle to show them, but that they are deliberately concealed and protected. This is both accurate and not.

Emotions are an expression of opinion or feeling due to a stimulating event. A woman weeps when her husband leaves for war, and a man angers when his property is damaged. But emotions seem most often to explode when romantic attachments are made and broken. Often by the will of one party and not the other. Those that observe this and measure its effect respond and conjure judgment of the affair based on their own values and experience. They then communicate this to the original parties and it recycles.

Displaying emotions outwardly is not inherently bad. But it can be troublesome. Weaknesses and interests are revealed to often biased observers. 

I learned nearly immediately that survival depended on the ability to mask and so now it difficult to unleash sentiment. Control is like armor. If raised in defense it can make one seem cold and uncaring. Even when within stirs a great up-welling of agitation, passion or zeal. For others however, emotions are a powerful tool of assertion and motivation. It is curious.

Stationary

There have continued to be incidents at Tyr’s Hand.

Nemeiah decided to remain despite the challenges and danger there. She mentioned to me the possibility of seeking a new location in a temporary sense in order to allow the troubles to pass. On her behalf I sought out Urukha to ask if it was possible for the Tribe to extend hospitality should this occur. But it is no longer relevant.

If there was a safer place to be I would have her go there but she trusts in the Bishop and the guards no matter how many times they have failed her. And as at the Vanguard she waits while others go to fight and secure the land. She is not eager for them to face the threat but I explained that it is good for some to have something to protect. I mostly spoke of myself. Knowing my design and to persuade her not to worry overmuch when the others do their dangerous duty.

In the meantime I visit as often as business allows. Although she is tolerant of my conversation it is not always attuned to trivial or cheerful subjects. The fault on this is mine due to an inordinate amount of curiosity. Recently I have attempted to temper it.

Spear Practice

In anticipation of using the Soul Anchor during the fight with the enemy, I selected a few to request their instruction. Not with the Anchor itself – it remains on my desk – but a short, heavy spear. The one used for practice was given to me by Urukha.

Caelyssa led me outside of Orgrimmar to demonstrate how to hold the spear to balance while throwing it. She claimed that her skill was minimal but it was much more impressive than what I could display. We targeted a pile of supply boxes. One box was particularly robust. Later investigation (after it had been pulverized by blows) determined that it contained zhevra hooves.

Some days later I convened with Urukha and she and I traveled to Ashenvale to apply the lesson. Thinking of what I was training for overshadowed my concentration and I performed poorly. Urukha spoke to calm me, saying that it was not a matter of life and death, this little buck hunt. I was successful after that. Nathan in particular appreciated the result when I returned home.

But I cannot be flawed when the real hunt begins.

Love

It is a phenomenon nearly universal, spoken of and described in literature, poems and song. It is avoided because it because it begets vulnerability. It is sought because we crave companionship.

It is created not only in the midst of passion but also in silent watches taken for a stricken lover. It completes what we lack.

It is not blind. It does not forgive all. It does not atone for one’s imperfections or repair another’s faults.

It gives warmth. It can penetrate Hell and melt glaciers with the softest whisper. Yet it can fade, break or be damaged. It is beautiful.

It joins us, divides us and drives us. But I find these words are poor and incomplete when attempting to encompass all that it is.

What it is, is simply love.

((Update))

((Dear Journal Readers,

Thank you for your support and kind words! Things are looking a lot better and I'm planning on resuming the blog by Friday, June 15th. I'll try to post daily for a bit after that in order to catch up.

For more info on what happened, keep reading.

Last Friday night the wonderful person behind the Dark Angel character ("D.A.") was minutes away from boarding a plane to visit a dying family member. With little warning, his body decided to call it quits. By the time I got there he was nearly comatose. He spent several days in the hospital being treated and being correctly diagnosed, and that's made all the difference.

He's now back at home and 100% better. Again, thank you all for the well wishes and hope you continue to enjoy reading the blog!

-K ))

((Hiatus))

((Dear Journal Readers,

I will be taking a short break from Annjia's Journal in order to tend to a sudden medical emergency in my family. When everything's back in order, the blog will resume. Until then, please enjoy looking through the archives and see if there's anything you missed!

And as always, thank you for reading.

-K))

Social Games

At social gatherings and even when sitting about near the Tree in Orgrimmar, the Tribe plays games. These seem to be utilized in order to learn of each other and to entertain through a structured means. Those not as inclined toward conversation may participate fully even when they are not otherwise sociable.

But the games are not always welcomed either. Kuvasei asked at the last Tribal meeting if I drank, and when I requested specifics she invited me to a “drinking game.” An undead taking part in this sort of thing is nonsense; and it becomes more unappealing when I hear stories of debauchery. But in her petition the young warlock implied something else. An accusation of not being able to “get to know” me better without using this method of trickery. Of course I did not attend.

Urukha asked if there were any games played with my household. I mentioned that there were none, at least of the variety employed by the Tribe. She then lent gifted to me a box with the ingredients for a game called Checkers. I brought this home and showed it to D.A.

The response was lukewarm and my beloved introduced different diversion that was played while growing up. Though it also involves a board and pieces, it is more complicated than chess on multiple levels and with complex rules. Unfortunately we did not have a proper set and I was dispatched to fetch a specific one.

The details of its acquisition I should not record except to say that D.A. felt somewhat guilty, but pleased at having it. The game is called Kriegspiel, or “wargame,” and it was delightful to learn and play it with my beloved.

Tactics

After resting my beloved and I turn to the next and hopefully last step before vanquishing the enemy. His location must be discovered. It may seem strange that before now we had not been searching, but I believe both of us did not wish to risk it before having the means to vanquish him. D.A. thinks that the enemy may be hiding in Viere’s labyrinth.

Even with my knowledge of the place it will still be difficult to locate a Nath’rezim. And there was a disagreement regarding the best manner to do so. At the heart of it lay my beloved’s blossoming abilities against my design to protect and conceal. While I am more the tactician never in years scheming have I been so concerned with how the process may endanger another. So, we compromised. We investigate ways to examine the area remotely without danger to either of us.

Chaos and Mayhem

These two I may have mentioned before. They are my transportation and have been with me since the beginning. Chaos is a dreadsteed. An undead horse that can fade and appear as summoned. Mayhem is a blue drake and cannot disappear but will remain above in the air or perched when not called.

Their names sometimes lead to questions. The answer I give is that I named them at a time when I was more interested in such things. It is a bit like an adolescent that selects an ominous moniker for a mundane object or pet in order to express their unstable emotions.

Chaos is extremely obedient because he is essentially a ghoul. A diminished husk of what once was a fine steed.

Mayhem is simply a well-trained drake. He came from Coldarra where the blue flight resides, and as with D.A. I nearly lost him before I could attempt to keep him. Though drakes have the mental capacity to speak our languages he has never uttered a word. I think it is because he chooses not to. 

Certain Calm

I was able to visit Nemeiah at Tyr’s Hand after she wrote to welcome me. Although it is severely tempting to probe further into the trouble there and assist I have concluded that it is best to adopt a limited role. Similar to when she journeyed to the Vanguard. Urukha would approve I think.

There have been improvements made to the security of the area, particularly around the gates and she is more comfortable. Though she does not leave to send letters or appear in Orgrimmar; but this I trust to her judgment. And if the roads near Tyr’s Hand are so unsafe I do not wish for her to utilize them. I travel on Mayhem.

And it was pleasant to sit and converse with her again. I remarked on the benefits of it just before departing and she seemed pleased, if amused. Her presence inspires a certain calm that I cannot competently describe.

Chivalry is Undead

Many pages have I devoted in you, journal, on the discussion of good manners and propriety. Often I criticize for what I see as a lack of it in exhibited by others. But less have I written on the scarcity of those who deserve to receive it.

There was one among my acquaintance that I thought was one such individual. When her husband abandoned her I assisted with gifts and encouragement, and it pleased me to do this. For an entire year I committed good behavior to her. But her recent indiscretion, revealed when a second person also lapsed (by describing the incident to me) has shattered this naïve opinion.

I acted coldly to her after and at first intended to remain so. But she pursued me after the last Tribe meeting with such an expression of earnestness and contrition that at the least, I resolved to tell her what had me unsettled. Vivvienne agreed to meet in private and I confessed my distress. That I no longer thought it appropriate to treat her as highly I had before, and I did not know how to behave now. Fortunately our friendship remains intact though we were not able to resolve my confusion.

As I consider it further, it seems that chivalry, and almost all of those who exercise and accept it have perished. It reminds me of my own unnatural state of undeath. Not solely the necrotic coloring and pain, but also the expired values that belonged to a different time. Honor, loyalty and even love carry new meanings now.

Yet it is the old meanings that I am designed for and give me comfort. But at the least, I know one person who will continue to receive my good behavior no matter how the rest of the world changes.

The Black Temple

My beloved and I retrieved the Soul Anchor from the Temple of Karabor. But a toll was taken of both of us; my darling more so. I write this in the study because the spear occupies the whole of my desk surface at present and I have no desire to move it. D.A. rests nearby.


It is obviously more than a spear. But that is a topic for another time.

I anticipated accurately that there would be great anxiety at the prospect of flying the whole of the way to the Black Temple, so I suggested a longer land-based route through Shattrath. We remained there one evening and then set out again before light the next morning. I am confident that our stay went unnoticed by any that would recognize us. And had verified earlier that certain parties would not be in Shadowmoon Valley on that day.

When the temple grounds lay before us we sent Mayhem and Dancer (D.A.’s mount – the gift from Great-father Winter) to the skies and entered using stealth. The combination of my beloved’s shadow magic and my blades was effective in suppressing the guards without raising the alarm. We found the vaults and searched for the spear.

D.A. located it in a stone coffin enclosed in the catacomb wall. Some sort of enchantment was upon the crypt, protecting it from being broken solely through force. My beloved then employed an ability I had not witnessed intimately before. Slipping into the vault with a creeping, shadowy sense of the self, D.A. entered the coffin.

Then began a violent struggle within.

Watching the crypt tremble from the conflict and not being able to break in to help was intolerable. I called to my beloved through the stone and received no answer. Then, when the tumult ceased I heard the faint pounding of a hand on the inside. The enchantment had been broken, but my beloved was no longer ethereal and was trapped within. I utilized one of the heavy decorative busts to damage the casing. But it did not easily shatter. Those were very long moments before I was able to pull D.A. out of the wreckage.

There had been damage inflicted both physically and mentally on my beloved. And there was the Soul Anchor, clutched to D.A.’s body. At once I carried both out of the place and paused only briefly in Shadowmoon Village for immediate healing. But we could not linger. Traveling hard and pressing our endurance, we arrived safely home.

Nathan and Mirtai assisted with great generosity and attentiveness. My beloved’s wounds are fading. But we have not yet spoken of what happened within the locked crypt. After all the nightmares and battles are faced, I will be very pleased when we may once again have peace.

Black Ambassador

This is what Za’zii called me some months ago when he was soliciting an appropriate nickname. Until now I have not mentioned it because I do not favor alterations of that sort. “Annjia” has always been sufficient. For reference, I nicknamed him “Professor” and Gom’jun added a “Grump” onto the end.

Due to the conversation recently with Urukha this moniker recurs in my mind. I did not write about it in detail here, only mentioning that she was difficult. She detected how deep my regard and concern was for Nemeiah (a rather acute determination solely from my calling her “Nem” rather than her full name) and then she would not relinquish the notion of helping. That is, if I involved myself to investigate the trouble.

The discussion transformed into a negotiation. Urukha demanded to be notified and brought to assist if I returned to the plaguelands. Which would potentially endanger Uru. But if I agreed to remain away from the plaguelands to keep Uru safe, Nem could not receive any advice or hidden aid from me. I could not tolerate this either.

In the end I removed myself from the bargaining without agreeing to any deal that would compromise my goals. That is why the Black Ambassador is an ironic title. My beloved, the child of a diplomat would approve I think.