A New Land

Evidently all of these strange bear-people are from a shrouded land far out in the ocean between Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. While I still have not spoken with one of the natives, I hear whispers of unplundered resources and a fortune to be made there.

It is worth investigating as long as I do not became caught between the Horde and Alliance armies.

Reoccupied

With Westlynn accompanying me I returned to Felwood and peered into the place where I once made residence. The motivation behind the visit was mostly curiosity, made achievable when she expressed interest in seeing the place some months ago. I did not forget the conversation, and would have referenced it had my presence been questioned by any forest dwellers. Her presence legitimized that.

No guardians did we encounter but the ruins were not empty. We descended to my room (I  liked it, it had candles lining a round walkway above), when I heard noises from deeper in. We retreated when the occupant appeared as a two-headed Wrath hound. I am not as proficient at moving silently as Westlynn, and feared that we would be discovered. Fortunately it did not spot us.

We exited the ruins and continued with another conversation, but only after I confessed irritation. The Elder treant had called me a corruption and wished me and my beloved gone from the wood, and now something worse resides in our place. I suppose I could be amused by the irony of it. 

A Strange People

In Orgrimmar there were very strange bear-like people running about. I did not approach.

Knighted

Often have I written of the ideals of chivalry, politeness and proper behavior, but concealed the shame that I did not know whether I was qualified to speak on them. To my great disappointment, death knights are almost never knightly, despite our name. Without remembrance I could not claim to be a real knight myself, and certainly could not claim nobility after death.

When my beloved read the story regarding the Future King and his knights, I asked whether one could still claim knighthood without recalling whether or who had bestowed the honor. The answer was that one’s behavior was more important. That same evening however, D.A. asked me to obtain a sword.

I was confused and somewhat distressed by the request because my beloved does not wield swords. I fretted over whether this preluded a desire for combat; something I never want my beloved to be involved in again. But I could not refuse. In Dalaran I acquired a silvery blade appropriately expensive and beautiful, as suits D.A.’s tastes.

To my astonishment, that night the sword was used to affirm and dub me Knight and Champion of my beloved’s house. As the head of that house this was well within D.A.’s powers and discretion to bestow, and was one of the greatest gifts ever given me. I am no longer undefined or unqualified. Even with a gallon of ink I would still find it difficult to express how thankful and overjoyed I was.

And still am.

Theramore

The Alliance city ruled by Lady Proudmoore has been razed by the Horde, and war is certain to follow. When I learned of it I informed my beloved and set out to determine how much danger this house and its residents could face. While some investigation assured me that it is not likely that we would be discovered, the risk has increased.

Initially I also worried that conscription orders may be issued. D.A. expressed in clear, strong terms that I would not be permitted to submit to them if they were. This is not due to any love of the Alliance or hatred of the Horde, but rather that our interests do not match either. After some brief thought I agreed. It is for the same reason that I have chosen to remain unaffiliated with any organization or clan.

For Nemeiah I do not worry because she is affiliated with the Argent Crusade, which is by necessity neutral. And Westlynn is a civilian, by my estimation. Both can seek refuge from war if needed.

Sacrifices

Over two months have passed since the return from the realm of shadows. Having rescued my beloved and with both of us nearly restored, I collect reflections on the losses and sacrifices.

I now possess only Whisper of the two demon hunter blades. Ruin was destroyed in that moment I freed my beloved from the Witch. No weapon could have survived that strike; nor would I have allowed it to, after. It is set aside.

The Soul Anchor spear I have put away in the hope that it and the dagger are never needed again.

Viere lives. What he occupies himself with I know not, nor do I intend to discover the answer. As long as he respects my borders he is not a concern.

The friendship with Urukha and by extension, formal affiliation with her tribe is ended. Still I cannot calculate what caused her to behave with such disdain and belligerence toward me while I suffered from the effects and horror of my journey. She once called me sister. Even offering to adopt me into her family. I gave her counsel when she asked it, and honored her departed kin. I now imagine her congratulating herself on being rid of me, calling herself brave and accomplished for turning on her nearest friend. No communication or apology has she offered since the last inflammatory conversation more than a month ago. Thus, I consider our association concluded.

But the highest cost my beloved still bears. I have done everything within and without reason to speed healing and bring comfort. It is something I cannot fight or shield against. Nor is there anyone to vilify except for the Witch and myself. It will remind both of us for the rest of my beloved’s existence what price we accepted order to be together.

Once and Future King

“I will find a book and read to you I think. I know you get bored with nothing to occupy you.”

My beloved introduced this method to keep me relatively immobile while resting to heal an injury. This was done also when recovering initially from the shadow realm, as it gave us something to think on other that what had happened.

The story this time involved some of the characters also found in the Green Knight tale. About a king that began unknown, and who gathered knights to his famous table.

One scene depicted the hunt and slaughter of a unicorn, which I found poignant because these creatures are universally considered good. My beloved explained that it perished due to the deception of the villainess and the naïveté of the boys that killed it. But as a result they were no longer so jaded. Their deeds thereafter reflected how they had viewed the incident and shaped what they became. One resorted to villainy; another rose to be a great knight.

I related some of the story to Nemeiah, although I could not offer an accurate translation of the title, as is evident in this entry. 

Guardian

After the fight with the death knight that attacked Nemeiah, and describing the scene to my beloved, there rose in me the wish to see either a better guardian for Nem, or even a champion. I told D.A. that the Bishop was currently Nem’s guardian and agreed for the greater part with the indignant remarks that followed. Particularly with the spate of recent assaults in Tyr’s Hand in mind.

However, when she and I spoke later, Nem asserted that the Argent administrators would not likely spare a paladin or anyone else for her protection. A paladin and I would also conflict. But I understood her reasoning.

That particular culpable death knight may now be vanquished (according to Nem, who had other difficulties not physically endured during the battle she described), yet she remains vulnerable. And, apparently, a target while under the watch of the Bishop. But I cannot protect her because I am not her guardian or champion. 

Off-Balance

Sometimes a stranger approaches me for conversation and they believe that they can cow me with it. While often I invoke the assumption that the weight of one’s helmet proportionally restricts intellectual capacity, it pleases me to methodically dismantle the notion sometimes.

This last instance was from an exceptionally tall elven woman in Orgrimmar. She initiated the interaction with a few belittling remarks and noting the (rather obvious) fact that I am a death knight. When I returned with rigid politeness and then altered the topic she never regained control of the conversation.

In fencing the advantage is gained when one’s opponent is off-balance. And then with every strike after that balance is never reacquired. This is what I did to this odd, red-eyed woman before abruptly ending the discussion. She then retreated and I returned to my business.

Perhaps I am boasting a bit. But it was entertaining. And not all socialization is thus: a few days later I had a lovely chat with a troll shamaness.

The Letter

When I viewed the globe of memory (the gift from Great-Father Winter) and reacted poorly, my beloved agreed to take it from me to safeguard it in secret. I felt after that an explanation was owed, or at least an elaboration on the situation in order to assuage worry.

Having failed to speak effectively when first communicating the decision, I wrote a letter instead. I left it on D.A.’s desk in the evening and then departed to hunt. In it, I wrote of the two main reasons taken for not pursuing the past; and how that choice has not changed even after seeing more of it that last look. Those reasons were first: that I could calculate only grief would result of the search. And second: that I already have overwhelming good with my beloved.

Some hours later I returned home, for D.A. is not an early riser, and received an emotional welcome. What I wrote had been understood.

Crossfire

My sight has improved enough to record a few words. A visit to Nemeiah in Tyr’s Hand went violently awry as she was attacked in her own room. I had departed the hall to return home, but suspected danger when I heard something move about. She cried for help and I heeded her.

She was damaged. I halted the man before she was killed but it was the Bishop’s timely arrival that forced him to retreat. Judging from his abilities and armor it was another death knight. I was harmed by broadsword and magic aimed at my face in close proximity.

The Bishop healed Nem and then after I protested against it, also aided my wounds. I was able to go home thereafter and much more gladly entered the care of my beloved.

Blurry

((The handwriting is imperfect and the sentence goes at slight angle up.))

My vision is not entirely intact at present. I will write more when able.

Untitled #4

That was a mistake.

Give Up the Past

I finally told my beloved of the decision to relinquish all ties to the past. This conscious resolution will not, I assume, prevent the intrusion of more memories, but the intention is to disregard them as they come.

D.A.’s response was surprise. I had not expected there to be any shock to it, considering how much caution was advised when pondering whether to pursue things that should not be known. But after assuring my beloved that the choice followed heavy thought, the much-desired support was extended. D.A. then requested that I not do anything that would prevent me from changing my mind.

After thinking more, I believe the real hesitation from my beloved emerged not from a personal concern for what I was giving up, but a reluctance to abandon pursuit of any knowledge (given that D.A. is naturally curious and disposed to research and discovery). But I am a bit more practical.

There is a last act that I will perform as a formal farewell to this discarded life. My beloved offered to be present, in the same way that we were together at the windmills when I renounced Viere. This should be less difficult.

For a Better Future

The Regent Westlynn and I met for conversation some days ago. I missed the banter and challenge, and was rewarded with her unpredictable manners. Though she had changed her hair again and this always provokes comment.

There were a few moments of seriousness in our discussion though. Once in regard to her current state without the Tribe and another when I mentioned that my beloved had inquired after her. I did not offer specifics but the intent was not purely to extend greetings and courtesy. She seemed quite interested in that D.A. and I had discussed her.

As for the first topic, when Westlynn expressed some of her feelings I offered back the advice that she had given me just after I returned from the realm of shadow. And in addition, I made some trite remark about the continuity of life. The thought was not a well-formed or well-enunciated. But I understand the trials of change.

And the difficulty of leaving something – or everything – behind to do what is necessary.

Incompatible

My beloved has returned to active study, or at least engages in it for significant spans of time. Though it does not yet appear comfortable to write. Due to my schedule we share the night hours and rest during the daylight ones. So there is always a comforting glimmer of candle visible in the window when I work out of doors.

Nemeiah also spoke of resuming her application of the Light, specifically forming a shield of it to protect others. She mentioned an instructor, but if they do not appear she plans to continue regardless. Upon seeing my dubious expression (remembering how often she has been damaged when healing others) she assured me that all would be conducted within the limits that she knows.

But there is an irony with both of them engaging in their respective learning. One seeks betterment through the Light, and the other draws power from its opposite. Yet I have not had the inclination or audacity to inform Nem that my beloved studies the shadow.

Nem sees shadow as something to be avoided. D.A. has only once referenced the Light and it was to state it as a tool that neither of us could wield. It would be difficult to explain to either side what benefits are gained from the other’s study. 

Zau'tal

Zau’tal is one of sons of Whiteclaw and inherited his sire’s distinctive ivory mane. The eldest son I have also met, and am not certain which in the order of offspring Zau’tal is. He is congenial and surprisingly trusting based solely on his father’s accounts.

Or, as he described it: it is wise to keep good relations with those who take a violent line of work. The son hunts in shadow with blade rather than claw. In Orcish it is called a “Scout” but the full meaning is more robust. He trains raptors, and complimented their intelligence and ferocity.

He asked also whether anything was wrong when noting that I had not been around the Tribe as much. When I told him that I no longer had the title of friend of the Tribe, his response was plucky, “If you know my father, then you know I do not care much for what is declared by others.” Or approximately that – it does not translate perfectly into this script.

He agreed to convey my greetings to his father when he next saw him. But Whiteclaw has not appeared for some time.

Building Ties

Construction on the cabin continues and now the roof has been placed and sealed. Nathan advised that it should be allowed time before being rained upon, but weather seldom cooperates when one needs it to.

I appreciate the work as well as Nathan’s assistance and company. His experience is greater, and he is no less invested in the cabin’s completion. He also has slowly adjusted to the nightly schedule.

Because my beloved insists on regular breaks now, we have had time for a few chats in those hours before dawn. Recently we spoke of pedigree and capacity. I confessed to him that I felt that I did not deserve to be paired with someone like my beloved, for I am not noble. My beloved possesses both ability and rank, when often the two are exclusive to each other. Nathan thought that if one must have only one of those two features, it was better to be highly regarded than high born.

I am mindful also that his situation is (or was) not so different from mine when he secretly courted Mira.

Changing Mantle

The Regent has decided to doff the mantle of leadership for the Burning Tusk Tribe. She described it as “moving on,” in such a subtle way that at first I did not understand the meaning. I had thought she simply implied moving physically from Piki’Alo, the tribal homeland. But it was more than that.

She did not give an explanation why, nor did I press after realizing what she was doing (truthfully I was so surprised I could not inquire). I do not know what she will do now. But I do not think that this will markedly change how we associate, apart from that I can no longer call her “Regent.” Except, perhaps, to annoy her good-naturedly.

When I mentioned the event to my beloved a few questions were asked, but few answers did I have to give. Westlynn always respected my privacy and the same courtesy should be extended in return.

Faith

It is challenging to believe in something, particularly when all that you see is the opposite of that which is hoped for. With the Light there appear as many interpretations of its use as there are wielders.

Yet is it not the same thing that all of these Light-flingers reach to? Both the ones that use it to heal a man at the threshold of death, and those that use it to hurt or kill others. Thus, to define the faith seems more a matter of defining the person that claims it. For a paladin, a blood knight for example, the Light is a tool with which to conquer. But for someone like Nem, it is a benefactor and yet, cruel in how it lashes her for practicing.

There are those of faith that have invested far more time contemplating this and so I cannot claim to understand it better than they; in fact the opposite is quite well confessed.

Nem asked instead for me to have faith in her when she uses the Light to heal others. To trust that she does so with discretion and care. 

Sun Sick

Due to illness it has been several days since I wrote last. When I did not stir from bed as normal my beloved commanded me to remain.

Ironically, Nemeiah detected the exhaustion the day before and appealed for me to rest. She offered her lodgings at Tyr’s Hand and I accepted for an hour's span. This revived me enough so I was able to return home and continue working. But the next morning I took ill.

My beloved concluded that what had sickened me with the stress of labor out-of-doors in the sun for extended time. The building project was permitted to resume only after I had promised to alter the schedule to a nightly one. Fortunately Nathan accommodated. I must admire a man who uses a word like "rubbish" to counter an apology for being inconvenienced.