((And Finally))

((I give you The Chronicles of Ruin.))

Scrap of Paper

It is apparently bloody difficult to find paper and writing implements here. 

I did not bring my journal to the shadow realm, but that point would have been concluded regardless, as after only a few steps inside we came under attack from a gigantic creature. My beloved and I were separated, and the horses lost. Or so I thought. They had an easier time of returning home than either of us will.

I continued to the Castle and met with the Lord after contacting my beloved via the stone. We were so far apart that our voices did not carry completely to each other and I was forced to guess much of what was said.

Before much longer, I understood what the Lord wanted us to do and was reunited with my beloved in that realm. We would not long remain there.

Now we are somewhere else. Or more accurately, somewhen else. It is not as cold, fortunately, but I cannot understand a word that anyone says. D.A. assures me that by simply standing and brooding this prevents a great deal of trouble. I am talented at that.

Do Not Want

This time of tranquility and stability is already ended. The cat came by, as did an unsavory face from the Shadow realm. My beloved and I have a decision to make.

-- The decision is made. We return to that dark place because the Lord of the Castle has to speak with us about Kaelyn. It was not an easy choice to make. This time, I leave you behind journal. Let us hope that this journey will be brief.

Dancing

As a general rule of behavior, I do not dance. Like laughter the activity has negative associations attached. In this case due to my experience of it being employed solely for the enjoyment of someone who did not deserve the display.

However some weeks ago I made a remark on the topic off-hand to my beloved, mostly as a distraction from other subjects. When we talked of it, I was not surprised to learn that D.A. had formal practice with dancing due to social expectations. The offer to teach me was then made.

I accepted, perhaps out of haste or a superficial desire to please. The matter went unspoken of until the night that we shared tea with Nemeiah. I had just seen the latter out of the place when my beloved suggested we take advantage of the setting for a lesson. The evening had gone well to that point, so I hesitated. Yet with less difficulty than anticipated I agreed.

It was pleasant, overall. Though I believe D.A. does not entirely understand the reservation and I am in no hurry to explain it. Those doubts now shift a tad and I find myself seeking a way to introduce another situation in which another lesson can be shared.

Tea with the Beloved

When trying to think of a proper word to label this event, I do not believe that there is a perfect descriptor. However, one word that kept returning to my mind was "remarkable."

To write it simply, my beloved and I invited Nemeiah to tea. She accepted, and we met and chatted in comfortable fashion. Not at home, certainly, but in a safe place. 

I confess that I enjoyed her immediate surprise at seeing just who D.A. was. Nem's grace and tolerance afterwards, needing only a moment to adjust was quite-- well the word has been used.

Nothing of great moment was discussed or done, yet I was profoundly pleased at how easy the two mingled. It caused me to wonder just why I had been so nervous and dreadfully thorough in planning, preparing and keeping the meeting a secret. Though perhaps it all was necessary and that did have impact, I do not know.

Still, there is no way to return to prior status now that this step is made. I entreated Nem to tell no one what she saw and learned.

The Good Days

Notwithstanding the tumult in Orgrimmar and Kalimdor, the ravaging of the new lands in the south and the accelerated intrusion of memories into my mind, these days have been good ones.

My beloved and I are both hale and engrossed in our tasks. For me that involves taking advantage of the economic opportunities brought by Garrosh's idiocy. It is a goblin's market. I brought the initial gains home the other night and was given praise (with all of the required paperwork because D.A. demands receipts).

Kruega has returned from his journeys, though temporarily I expect, and I had the pleasure of informing Nemeiah of it. Though he has now retreated from Orgrimmar and I cannot blame him for this. 

I even managed a few interesting conversations with strangers, despite the complaints recorded on these pages. 

All of these notes are not to claim that all is well and perfect, nor do I anticipate that things will remain positive and stable. I am attempting to enjoy when it is, while it is, without reservation or guilt.

Disgraceful

Yet again I am reminded of why I no longer claim kinship with the elves of Silvermoon. Yesterday I passed some time in Orgrimmar on business and in search of Nem (who hopefully has retreated elsewhere, given the troll unrest). I was unfortunate and overheard what constituted a "conversation" between several Sin'dorei.

The verbosity of our race is legend, I concede. Yet it is disgraceful to see men and women so clearly of consequence and education use an excessive number of words to say so little. Really, they said nothing at all and sounded so dreadfully self-important as they did. There was another in their gathering that openly drank the blood of one of the sand-lizards during their discussion, which was repulsive. 

When I made some small motion, driven to rub away the headache, the leader of the group turned from the lady (who was still speaking to him, mind you) to ask what bothered me. I decided not to answer, waiting for her to continue as would be proper in a civilized environment. He became aggressive and asked if I was mute, or simply rude, as he had addressed me.

I replied that he had. And said nothing else.

He then showed disdain and attempted to recover his pride by suggesting that he would never receive an answer, and that was well with him. (I still cannot fathom how he could not understand the simple proprieties of conversation and how boorish he was behaving).

To which I told him that when he was capable of conversation, we would chat. Then I walked away as I could watch for Nem from a different location without being exposed to such banality. 

Gren'mazi

He is a troll with crimson mane and appropriately incendiary talent when wielding magic. Though it is not for this that he can claim respect; it is for his tattoo shop wherein he applies artwork to the bodies of his customers. He is also a member of the Burning Tusk Tribe.

The reason that I write of him now was that some days following my brief exchange with Urukha, we spotted each other in Orgrimmar and sat for a chat. We spoke of his mate, whom I have not met personally but in the past I have witnessed her effect on him. Together they expect a tiny one by the end of summer.

We also discussed a recent series of riots in the city, centered around displeasure with Garrosh as Warchief. I have not participated in his campaign in Pandaria, in accordance with my beloved’s wishes, but have heard stories of the trials and disdain the elves endured under his command. Now it seems the trolls have taken to openly opposing him. As one of the race Gren’mazi was worried that the Kor’kron would imprison him for that alone, and put his pregnant mate in danger.

When I asked for his advice on how to manage time in the city, as I still have some business there, he replied in a rather cryptic manner, that I should make sure to know who the enemy really is.

This caused me to think of Urukha and wonder if a similar calculation prompted her to contact me.

A Deserved Apology

It is rare that I would claim to deserve something, least of all positive impressions such as happiness or love. Yet when I am wronged, and the source of that wrong is so utterly and violently disconnected to the truth of it, I expect justice.

For Urukha it took this long to apologize. It is what I wanted, as I had told Nemeiah the day before. My anticipation was that Urukha would demand to share blame again when there clearly was none to be shared. It was she who treated me poorly. Now, she admitted it. 

Still I calculate that there are outside factors that I am not witness to that influenced the concession of guilt, but those are not impactful enough to pursue. Our lives continue in different directions, as I told her. There will be no renewal of our friendship. I accepted the apology and then took my leave shortly after.

This is a Mistake

This may be the stupidest thing I have done since I attended Darkbreak's assembly without familiarizing myself with his protection. Which unfortunately was not very long ago, and does not flatter the integrity of my self-preservation calculations.

Yet when she contacted me without invitation, I eventually agreed to direct meeting with Urukha. Nemeiah approves of that decision, though I know without asking that my beloved does not. With all things considered I tend to trust D.A.'s pragmatism more than I do Nem's optimism, but for the latter's sake I promised that I would give Urukha a chance to explain herself.

I simply carry exceedingly low expectations.

Cross Loss

As I had read was probable, one of the rose crosses has not survived to produce seeds. And there is a second rose hip on one of the Kaelyn bushes that has me concerned. While my beloved tried to reassure me, it is difficult not to worry for all the rest.

Thinking on it, it must seem so ridiculous to an outsider to be so invested in these plants. Yet I believe the emotional attachment is due to my own inability to reproduce. That is, without raising something already dead or giving my powers to someone already living. Neither of which is palatable to me now. Vividly I remember Nemeiah’s horror when I created the black roses originally, by destroying a fresh red bloom with necromancy.

This is the only way that from nothing, I can create life. Growing flowers in a garden.

---- And so many elves have children without a thought. Then they complain of the symptoms, consequences and responsibilities. They forget how fortunate they are simply to have a choice.

Butterfly Wings

Westlynn sent to me a gift. Something gathered from the new lands, I estimate. It is a butterfly with iridescent, shiny blue wings pressed into a glass pane. I am not certain if she sent it because she simply thought I would approve, or if there is something else.

Things have changed.

Knowing what I do and what I do not know, and the intersection wherein all the risk resides. What mattered little, what mattered none, and how delicate we all are.

Old, Burnt Bridges

I happened upon Nemeiah in Orgrimmar this morning. While I was glad to see her, I was equally reluctant to volunteer details of the last few weeks and their conclusion. She may not have approved of Darkbreak due to his use of the Light to harm me, but telling her precisely how he ended seemed unwise. Even if I was not his agent of Death.

Nem mentioned a desire to speak of someone, and I became concerned. Of similar significance as Viere is to me, is a man that has caused her great grief. But it was not him that she wanted to talk about.

It was Urukha.

The orcess who treated me with such misunderstanding and disdain approached her and asked of me, Nem said. It was her supposition that Urukha wanted to rebuild the bridge that burned between us. I do not know the accuracy of the assumption, but if it is true, I would expect Urukha to approach under her own courage and not use Nem's influence on me. Though she likely knows still how I will listen to Nem's counsel.

And, journal, such an approach would require courage. I have forgotten nothing. Which is why I will not believe or act on Nem’s hypothesis unless there is evidence of it.

Checkmate

Darkbreak no longer presents a threat. There was little doubt of the conclusion, but the planning and subterfuge required were telling of the importance of it. He did not reach his destination after sailing from Stormwind.

There was some damage received by my beloved and me. The next steps involve recovery and returning to normalcy. As much as it can be had.

Final Play

The infiltrator proved remarkably successful, bringing back usable information to me regarding Darkbreak. She concocted some story to gain access to him. Then, used it to receive a demonstration of his abilities (though I already had witnessed them much closer than desired).

The insight gathered regarding an item in his possession was the most helpful. My beloved now works to find counters to it and to his other defenses.

Then, the next step is obvious. And depends on my calculations in order to enact it successfully. I have navigational charts and maps all over the floor. It all feels very familiar, though I try not to spend time wondering why.

Adoring Legions

There is an army within my beloved’s study. They sit in neat rows, arranged by rank and are selected according to their virtue. They wait in silence, still and dreadfully organized. The favored may number up to a dozen or more and occupy D.A.’s space and time until they are no longer required.

Which is when I happily return them to the shelves.

I call the books my beloved’s “adoring legions” as a tease for when I lose D.A’s attention to them. This is not a serious criticism. Many ways have I discovered to capture and retain interest despite competition. My beloved has also used them to entertain, reading stories aloud to me.

Once I did threaten to toss them all about the room, with permission, because they had not surrendered the desired information readily. D.A., quite calm and firm in tone reminded me to refrain. It would have been bloody amusing had I been allowed.

The Other Side

With Darkbreak plastering his advertisements all around and the lingering concern about him, my beloved and I agreed that something must be done to ensure our security. I calculated and decided that more information was needed first. Thus, I required someone who could collect it for me.

With Westlynn out exploring the new lands and for a few different reasons, I reached to “the other side.”

Not formally of course, but the task calls for someone who could move through Alliance areas. And whose discretion could be ensured by coin rather than politics. Much is risked. This endeavor was also made more challenging because I did not understand Common. And have avoided learning it, I must add, but that is a topic for another time.

The individuals I found (through Silvermoon contacts, interestingly) displayed uncanny good manners and claimed to lack an allegiance to the institutions and hierarchy of Stormwind. Though the spy and I do not yet share a language and this could be problematic. I must trust that her “boss” relayed my instructions correctly.

I believe Nem would be proud of me for behaving myself.

((April Fool's: The post formerly known as "Blue Crab"))

((No great surprise here! The blue crab referenced was the annoying pop-up helper from World of Warcraft's website, affectionately known as "Crabby." If Annjia ever did encounter Blizzard's favorite annoying crustacean, I'm pretty sure she would either avoid it or dedicate herself to its utter destruction.

A blue crab followed me home.

At first I thought it amusing, if disturbing in how it stared. Then I became irritated with it and killed it.

Then, it came back. D.A. suggested that I "get the butter." I will be very glad when this day is over.))

Another Leaflet

((The flier is printed in Common.))

Leaflet

Darkbreak is recovered enough from his injuries to return to appearing publically. I confess some surprise, as I thought the exchange with my beloved had left him unable. Though I did not spot him personally to verify.

What I found was a new advertisement, this time in Elwynn Forest. I would not have known its contents (and did not confirm them until my beloved read it) if did it not have their emblem printed on it like a blasted red flag. The paper itself did not survive the discussion. 

Rose Notes

Selfishness

I write of the ideas surrounding a particular brand of fulfillment. Not glory or accomplishment, but the satisfaction that emerges in spite of, or as a result of harm to others.

There is a separate case of each embodied by men within my acquaintance. The first should conjure no surprise as Viere, who sought fulfillment of his selfish desires in opposition to those he exploited. The second is the Lord of the Castle. He is a bit more complex because those harmed by his selfishness were all willing at some point.

Of Viere I have written extensively, and so will not spend more ink on the subject.

The Lord I must speculate on purely because I do not know him well and only observed his behavior. The main manifestation of his greed was the acquisition of additional companions, though Victora clearly disapproved of sharing him. I believe the Witch, of all individuals to be the cause. Understanding now more of his past relationship with her, prior to her demise at his and my blade. How he lost her prompted him since to obtain more and attempt to fill the void.

He then was forced, inevitably, to make a choice between his possessions.

((Written in the margin)) I do not mean to insult Kaelyn – may she rest in peace - or Sophia by referring to them as objects. The Lord treated each with respect and affection and tended most of their needs, unlike Viere. I do not think he saw them as possessions.

((Back to the main page)) He favored one over the other and lost both. Yet had he never sought more, he would not have had to make that choice. It was his fault, as my beloved reminded me.

And I remember the expression he showed to me when Sophia, in tears, clung to him and reminded him that he still had her and her love. It was not the look of a man appeased by even that heartfelt plea. I am not optimistic that he will alter his course, particularly if he learned nothing and sees no wrongdoing in his acquisitions. He simply did what he wanted, and that defines selfishness when he knows it causes grief.

((Stepping Back))

((Dear blog readers,

This is just a quick note to let you all know that Annjia’s Journal will no longer update five days a week. I want to focus on other projects for the time being and will only post occasionally. Thank you for reading and please enjoy the archives for lots of hidden spoiler goodness.))

Monster, Part 3

When the word “monster” was put on me, it may have been written in a language I do not read, but the meaning was stated in clear terms. This label was primarily intended to impugn and humiliate me.

Those who saw etched letters denied its accuracy with vehemence. They said that man who did it was the monster and not I. My beloved treated the subject with delicacy and has helped to tend the marks so they do not endure as a reminder. Yet thoughts of what it means fill these pages and the quiet moments when my mind has nothing to distract or occupy it. Which may have been the secondary motive.

I accept that the priest believes me to be a monster. I accept that others do not. But regardless of perspective, due to the gravity of the accusation they cannot both be right. What I have written up until this page examined the meaning of it in an attempt to understand and embrace what is true.

Since my creation I was designed to destroy. I was given Strength, Cunning and Desire to augment that purpose. In order to live, in order to protect and support my love, I must end others’ lives. How honorably I choose to accomplish that matters little. How impeccably I choose to dress, speak or behave matters none when the underlying Nature is bared.  

I am not ashamed of what I am.

Thus I conclude that on only one point do Darkbreak and I agree. I am now, and for the entirety of my existence in this world have been, a monster.

Avoidance

Ever since I returned from Darkbreak’s ship, I noticed that Mirtai stayed absent from my sight. Nathan was about a bit more but I did not distract him from his work. When I finally did, and asked about her, I realized that she was avoiding me. 

She has always been afraid of me. When we were with Viere she could hide behind him and taunt me. She flaunted her superior status whenever possible. After his defeat by the Nath’rezim, she sought me out and I nearly killed her. While intimidation can be a strong tool of control, it is now inappropriate to wield it with her. I do not want her to fear me. 

Then my beloved revealed that Mirtai’s avoidance was a deliberate machination. D.A. had asked her and Nathan to give space to both of us while I recovered. Though I was told they did not mind and it was done out of love, I wonder if more distress was caused by forcing separation.

Nemeiah recommended that I speak to Mirtai when I felt better. She referenced our own paranoid beginnings, for which, as with Mirtai I cannot entirely calculate how we overcame the distrust. In this recent conversation it became clear to me that Nem and I see anger very differently. But that is a topic for a different page.

First Bloom

I clipped the first suitable bud from one of the hybrid rosebushes. It is one of Kaelyn’s. The red center emerged much darker than I expected, nearly purple. It blends more with the black of the rest of the petals. I had hoped for a bit more contrast but am not discouraged. There are other buds still emerging and I will have time during the season to tend and experiment with them for a brighter crimson.

My beloved said that it was lovely and an “amazing beginning.” But I am particular and fastidious on this because it is a tribute.

Storytime: The Knight and the Harlot

Once there was a Lady, and her Knight that was faithful to her. When the Lady’s husband left her, the Knight continued to support and protect her. Silently being in love with her but never breaking his oaths.

Then, the Lady met a Wizard and was convinced outright that he loved her passionately. She went to his tower and his bed, leaving the Knight to stand away and alone. But the Knight knew the love to be false. The Wizard treated the Lady like a Harlot and a conquest.

He asked the Lady to speak with him alone, and at length she agreed. He spoke honestly to her of his worry, but he could not bring himself to say aloud that he loved her. He thought that his actions were evidence enough. Yet she needed to hear it, to see it, or else the affection simply did not exist to her. She wanted to be loved, not admired behind protocol. The Knight asked that she leave with him and to forget the Wizard, and he would treat her like a Lady.

Below the tower, the Knight waited for her to decide. The next day, she did. She returned to the Wizard without a word given to the Knight. For to her, false love was better than none at all. 

The Knight departed and she never saw him again. 

A Quiet Night

My beloved and I hunted together again. I wanted to go and eventually was convinced of the wisdom of not embarking alone. The decision relieved D.A. of some worry, I think. Given that I have not behaved with complete stability.

It took much longer than I expected and in total we hid for a few hours. I confess that at first I was anxious and did not act when I could have, because I did not wish to endanger us with hasty judgments. This may have been my beloved’s goal in offering to come along. Ostensibly it was to learn a bit more of how it is done.

We did not chatter or do much other than watch and wait. I did not mind. In fact I found the time spent together rather pleasant, though it was in a rugged setting. My beloved might disagree, as one who enjoys domestic creature comforts. I endeavored to make up for the inconvenience when we returned home.

Wrath

Burning, blinding, violent rage.

I lost control of my temper today. It was unpleasant.

Red and Black Sails

Though I am mostly confined at home, my mind is not. Images of the ship and the incident there disrupt my rest and cut deep into my patience. I wanted to find it, to know where it would be safe to go once I move about again.

At first I assumed a neutral port due to the brutality involved. Mercenary types could be paid to tolerate all types of fanatical ventures. However, some investigation from Westlynn and my own observations invalidated the assumption. I then asked my beloved to look somewhere very specific. It drained D.A.’s energy to search over the distance, for which I apologized, but the result was conclusive.

The ship was there. Not near us, fortunately, but in what appears to be its home port. It is decidedly not neutral, and not friendly. It makes this infinitely more difficult to calculate a resolution for. At least though, I know where it is.

Buds

The roses have woken and are making buds. The apple tree has not yet bloomed but it may in a month or so. There are a few other things I plan to add to the garden once spring is settled in.

Monster, Part 2

In stories, monsters that present a moral dilemma to the heroes offer a significantly more complicated challenge. To overcome them, the hero must decide if the redeeming features of the monster outweigh the terror and carnage they caused. Or at least, try to discover what has made the monster.

Too often I think authors overlook how many monsters the heroes create themselves. Out of prejudice, fear, territorial expansion, and so on. Is it the fault of the wolf that attacks the child wandering too close to her den of pups, or is the fault of the parent for letting go of the child’s hand? The wolf loses in every scenario. So does the parent, but their grief feels vindicated with the beast’s death. Now, they have justified purpose in eradicating every wolf in the wild and gain laud and honor for doing so.

However, there are some monsters that are of their own creation. Those made from greed, ambition, jealousy, hatred borne of perceived or real wounds from society. Those desperate to blame anyone other than themselves for their faults. They destroy so that the world can feel their pain and indignation.

Then there are the monsters with no choice other than to be what they are. Perhaps they were created to be hero-fodder or a tool to serve a dark master, but otherwise they would choose not to harm or disturb anyone. Their lives are suffering from the moment they emerge until they are defeated. For them the only victory is a swiftly sought end. An escape into the eternal, blissful abyss.

Joint Hunt

This time, my beloved accompanied me. Or it may be more accurate to call it the reverse. I did not want D.A. to go alone. In spite of my state I felt much better after finding quarry and returning home with both of us intact. My beloved must have known this, I think.

It also saved the furniture and the garden from my temper.

Disfigurement

I cannot think of a kinder or more appropriate word to describe it. With my beloved’s attentive care, the marks on me begin to fade. I had not spoken of them much, other than saying that I was eager for them to be gone.

We each carry on our bodies the consequences of a life chosen together, in defiance of all the realms. My beloved’s devastating injury can be covered and masked, but it will never heal. Mine are harder to hide but are not permanent. We manage in different ways with the support of each other.

“Do you think I am ugly now?”

Never.

One Step Forward

A disagreement with Westlynn concurrent with my debacle has made it difficult to concentrate on an efficient resolution. I did leverage Westlynn to conduct a particularly vital errand but beyond this, nothing with her felt comfortable.

And no matter the circumstances it is difficult to ask someone for help when you are upset with them.

Details are unnecessary for these pages. She invited me for a ride. We spoke of Mayhem, my rate of healing, and then I asked the question looming in my mind. I wanted to know if she held the same disappointment as I after the argument. Her violently emotional response startled me. She defended her feelings (with words I would rather she not have used) and in return questioned how I could have doubted her over something she felt was so trivial.

It was not trivial to me though, and I do not think she understood this entirely. Which is in part my fault for not telling her the entire story. I still disapprove of her actions. But she convinced me that this is of little moment compared to what has been gained during our acquaintance. In the end, we settled the heart of the dispute and were comfortable again.

Still, I wonder how she would react to my answer had she turned my own question back at me.

Learn to Lie

I contacted Nemeiah and we updated each other on our current challenges.

Though she aspires to be a priestess, of late I have noticed a tendency for her to misplace the exact truth of things if she does not wish to worry me. Before she has downplayed the damage received from healing others with the Light. Or simply not told me all of the circumstances that prompted her to use it.

Though I have not mentioned it specifically, I am very pleased by this change. If she learns to lie (and to do it well) this is another way to protect herself without wielding weapons or physical strength. Kindness is a shield but an imperfect one. It works only on those who value it. Deception works on everyone else.

Of course when the truth of her latest threat walked by and Nem confessed the reality of the danger I was not as happy. But it is the situation, not that she tried to conceal it that bothered me.

In return I told and showed her what had happened to me. And then I lied. 

Darkbreak

These days I have not written much to you, journal, of what has happened to me because I did not want to linger on it. Unpleasantness occurred and I am paying a price for my error.

I insisted on investigating the group whose symbol I saw on the flyer, and pressed into your pages here. I miscalculated their abilities. As a consequence, when my beloved found and recovered me a great deal of damage had I received. Still now despite healing and other magic I am in pain.

The priest responsible for this lives, and flaunts a name that is not genuine to him. I record it here.  

Monster

Fiend. Villain. Abomination. An evil creature intent on harming others for its own pleasure or benefit.

Monsters are nightmares made solid. They look into our eyes and draw out fears, doubts and weaknesses. They challenge the faithful. And inspire the mighty to be heroes.

In stories they represent the darker aspects of societies, to be overcome and consolidated into the mainstream so that the majority may be comfortable with their lesser flaws. So that when people reflect on themselves, they see something better. Someone who compared to the monster, is good.

For there to be Light, there must be Shadow. To kill.

Untitled #8

Untitled #7

Hold Steady

While at first I was not optimistic, Westlynn contacted me after our disagreement and we met for a repetition of our first outing to Moonglade and Darkshore.

The subject that caused the sourness did not rise directly. But we did discuss one of the necessary consequences of it. I may not have written it before, but it concerned finding a safe and comfortable place to view the books with Nem. I requested access to particular location from Westlynn and then reversed after recalculating the propriety of it.

During this more recent discussion she offered a substitute. The rest of our chat wandered to less inflammatory topics, which likely was for the best.

As for the greater issue, this has not been resolved but I should be silent on it for now. Eventually I did accept the alternative proposition.

Second Anniversary

Two years now have passed since my beloved and I became a pair. While the first year was difficult, this second surpassed that challenge with ease. Yet still we are together. And, I may boast that we are both better because of it.

The surprise I plotted went well overall, but the deception failed. My beloved knew instantly to be suspicious regardless of Mirtai's talent with distraction. But there was accommodation and genuine appreciation when I revealed the gift. A copper bathtub augmented with heat runes (it took a bloody long time to calculate how to do it). What I did not expect was what I received.

An old conceit, blinded by my disdain, given sight again.

New Worry

In Silvermoon, after I spoke with Yuliia, I collected a flyer from a public board that gained my interest after a closer inspection. It was not the subject matter visible on the paper, but the odd symbol hidden within it. It needed some chemical coaxing to reveal it clearly.

I showed it to my beloved and expressed a measure of my concern. Unenlightened groups should not play with powers they think they understand and control. We are now both engaged in a search for more information to determine if this should be considered a threat. Or if something may be gained for us at the expense of their ignorance. I hopeful for the latter even if a touch of risk is required.

I also wonder if Nemeiah is aware of this group, or if it is too far removed from her practices. Initially my assumption is she may not be.

Proud

I met with Yuliia, Westlynn’s younger sister in Silvermoon to ask a favor. She did not have an answer immediately but said that she would ask around for the information I wanted.

We also chatted about her beau and the little ones that she is employed to look after. I mentioned the upcoming anniversary and felt strangely satisfied with her excitement. To few have I even admitted being in a relationship and rarer yet are those who know the depth of it. I was proud to speak of it with someone who seemed to appreciate (or at least enjoy the concept of) such a romance.

A Little Help

I enlisted the aid of Mirtai and Nathan for a surprise I am planning in a few days. Nathan agreed to help in his usual dutiful way, but Mirtai was quite fascinated with the intrigue. In truth it will be a simple deception (which I have done before), but requires that someone else do the distraction for me.

Fortunately Mirtai is talented at this, and expressed her confidence boldly. Nathan appeared less amused at her declaration of ability. I reminded them to be nice.

Two Steps Back

I consider the phrase “one step forward and two steps back” very appropriate for anyone engaged in a difficult progression. When one challenge rises, it may be overcome only to reveal another more complex and devastating.

Friendship, I am learning, qualifies thus.

Also, it is sobering to discover that my counsel on matters that I have some measurable credibility with, means absolutely nothing to someone determined to be a fool. It makes attempting the next step forward much less attractive.

Which means, perhaps I should let others try that step first.

Garden Thaw

These last few days the weather warmed and the garden began to thaw. Though winter is the most comfortable season, I am eager to see how the plants fare. Specifically, the roses. I do not expect any to be ready by the approaching romantic holiday however.

((Added later, with a rushed script)) --Silver roses. How in all the levels of Hell will I find one of those.

Lunar Festival Party

I did not want to go. I should not have gone. But a letter convinced me to try, and it was good to see Nemeiah. She and I did not speak on other matters.

Westlynn was, of course her usual social self and she acted in gracious fashion despite my reservation. Other conversations I enjoyed far less.

The fireworks were entertaining, but I could only think of what Nem said to me several days ago when we both debated whether or not to attend. It was not who was there that will impact future participation. It is the one who was not there.

Update #9

I finally told my beloved that Viere had been lurking about. While I have taken a watch every night no sign of himself has been exhibited since we returned from the realm of shadows. My beloved, while not knowing the cause had been concerned about my behavior. The advice after was to not let it worry me too much.

After all, he may have done it simply to annoy me. Which is not a wise temptation.

Misrepresentation

When Westlynn surrenders from a disagreement before every argument has been exhausted, I worry. For as long as we have been friends she never seemed bothered by how I represented myself to others. But during a visit to her home, her mother came upon us and asked me about my interests.

I answered in typical fashion to avoid her scrutiny. 

When we left the house, Westlynn rounded on me and expressed her displeasure with my response. Why should others not think highly of me, and why would I diminish myself? We spoke again in the days following and she relinquished her position suddenly before I could offer a robust explanation. If I understand my species (the female variety) at all, this means that I am in a great deal of trouble.

Lending Terror

Despite her reservations and my own, Nemeiah agreed to see the dark books for her investigation. She tended the injuries of yet another individual that needed healing, and had been recovering as she considered the offer.

My beloved was not eager to relinquish the literature without stipulations. Apparently in the past, many books that were lent out did not return. That is not likely here.

Jiik

Near two years ago, I met a troll warlock named Jiik. She acted as my introduction to some of the social rings within Orgrimmar, calling me over by the greeting, “’Ey, elfie with the hood.” While only a few months passed before she disappeared to pursue other matters, we did exchange a few interesting conversations.

As a warlock she studied methods to control demons and I was fond of her fel hunter. But her succubus behaved less amicably and I offered advice on how to remedy that. Not long after Jiik was given a second succubus to manage, and it seemed she applied the recommendations with initial success (and pleasure, although no details were requested).

But not at all did I enjoy her attempts to assist me. She said that my soul appeared “damaged” and asked if it hurt. I had less patience then for such personal probes and took offense. Eventually she retreated from the offer to repair my soul because I refused to acknowledge it. It was then, and still is a stupid question to ask.

On occasion I am curious to what she has applied herself. Or if the succubi in the end overcame her training. Warlocks of untried ability tend not to survive when tested.

Shy Game

In a few weeks will be our anniversary, and I instigated a quiet game with my beloved. I have hidden small notes of appreciation about and as they are found, I make new ones to put in different places. The first was not discovered immediately. So the second I put in a more noticeable position between the pages of a book on the desk (where most of my beloved’s attention is focused when working).

Thus far, no acknowledgement has been displayed, but this is as I had hoped. It is our shy little game.

Purifying Flames

When I asked my beloved why Viere’s lair had been destroyed by fire, the answer suggested some guilt for the act, but only because I had not been consulted first. My decision had been to retrieve anything of use from there. So that it could not be found by others and utilized for barbarity. But I expressed hesitation, and D.A. offered to go instead.

After much consideration did I agree, but only if Maag acted as escort and I stationed myself as guard (however superfluous). My beloved descended into the labyrinth and emerged some time later, eager to depart. The entire underground had been set ablaze.

At first, I did not understand but did not question. I felt ambivalence, not remorse or triumph.

In hindsight the rash, vindictive choice - sudden at least by my perspective, it may have been planned once my beloved resolved to go there -was the wisest course. Often we are not the most dispassionate agents in our own affairs and those who love us possess the greater insight.

The reason my beloved burned the place was so that it could be put away from me. 

Twitter-pated

This is the word that my beloved uses when describing an individual who is lost to their positive emotions during a romantic relationship. Though, it has not been used in context with us. I am not certain in which language it originates but am spelling it out in Thalassian.

I mention it here because it applies to Kruega in his current state. Never before have I seen him so enamored. Though usually he is cheerful, it now encompasses more than a typical good mood. The cause of course is what we spoke of before, his feelings toward a particular female.

He mentioned that the flowers I lent him were received favorably. To this I wished to reply that of course they were; only if a woman was a simpleton would she not appreciate flowers. Even I like them.

Ambulatory

Through a surrogate I received word that Westlynn had returned from her venture. But when I traveled to where she lay in recovery, she and her male attendant, Tristenne, had both indulged in something narcotic, and I could not receive a coherent conversation.

The next day I returned and the visitor and drugs were not in effect, so more information could be obtained. Her sister has treated her since her arrival. After determining that she was not in imminent danger of collapse, I offered to walk with her about the place. She of course pressed much further than any of her caregivers would have approved.

Attempting the stairs in her state may have exceeded her ambulatory capacity. But she seemed determined to defeat them alone. While this was consistent with her character (particularly of late), I wanted to help. I do not think she noticed.

Dark Offer

After being absent from Orgrimmar for a time, I returned and was pleased to find Nemeiah there. Our conversation remained brief, but she assured me she felt well and that her skill in the Light increases.

However, I have not forgotten the earlier discussion regarding her procedure and what it uncovered. Due to the results of my beloved’s bravery I was able to make an offer to Nem. Dark literature otherwise inaccessible to someone of her Holy persuasion. I did not linger after the offer but hope that Nem considers it beyond her hesitance. 

Sit and Stay

From Westlynn I received a brief note asking to meet and chat, and I expected from the tone of it that there would be a task involved. I did not anticipate that the request would be to stay behind and not interfere as she ventured out to resolve the threat on her family. To keep silent or lie about her plans. Yet, should she not succeed, she wanted me to watch over her sister and the others for their safety.

I agreed to remain uninvolved. But at first was unhappy about it.

After that chat I returned home and updated my beloved. I met with some resistance, but not due to a desire to force assistance upon Westlynn. It was, as it ever has been out of concern for keeping our affairs private and my guardianship focused on us. That I not be commanded nor expected to protect others.

I offered assurances that my priorities are unaltered.

Kruega's Questions

Kruega approached me in Orgrimmar the other day and seemed perplexed by a personal situation. Although we speak often of his own affairs, nearly never does he ask me of my own. When he wondered whether or not I could feel “love” the emotion, either now or if I could remember it from life, I answered to both with honesty.

He described his worries regarding a female and I was disappointed that it was not a particular one. But that is understandable for both of them.

When given a few moments to reply, I pontificated on proper courtship and lamented how most simply hop into bed and forget the art of it. Seldom in conversation am I allowed (or inclined) to elaborate on the topic, but here I was rather verbose. There are also several of your pages, journal, that are filled with my thoughts on the subject.

I warned Kruega that many pretend to love because they fear to be alone.

After our chat I hope he does not mistake every warm feeling for something greater. He is young. Thus, I also hope that the female involved does not take advantage of him as he is susceptible to.

Untitled #6

"Let the past remain in ashes."

Cowardice

This world is filled with opposites, literal and conceptual, that challenge and balance each other. Light and Shadow, life and death, angels and demons. Therefore if one believes in bravery, they must also acknowledge its antithesis.

Or in my case, it is because of cowardice that I believe in courage.

For years my actions were ruled by what I feared to do, to say, to attempt out of risk of punishment. Now I am bound by my will and memories and this, unfortunately, is enough to still give pause.

Silvermoon

It is a bright, golden and obnoxious place. In the streets march paladins and in the taverns, idiots, brutes and harlots mingle. I am reminded why I did not venture here often unless for a specific task. It is a good place for finding and indulging vices – if one’s own vices were the ones being satisfied.

I have also decided that elven death knights accumulate in Silvermoon because there they are not required to compete with the presence of tauren, trolls, orcs, and other hardened fighters. Their cold glances result in equal shares of fear and derision. Thus, they are difficult to ignore and this seems to be the underlying goal. Dark suits of armor seeking attention with no real mettle or mind to accompany them.

In that sense, they are just as distasteful as the paladins. Orgrimmar at least has fewer of each, or they are less noticeable because of the aforementioned fighters.

Secret Affair

Or perhaps, not so secret. But I told Nathan that I would not inquire into his business before leaving for the shadow realm and I have kept to that. However, my beloved impishly observed that we have had the manor to ourselves at night. I asked for some privacy on Mirtai and Nathan’s behalf.

This is with the hope of course that the two of them continue to fulfill their tasks and do not give me such a headache as they did before.

Little Things

"Here we’ve been through a whole archive of shit together… and we’re still worried about little things.”

Westlynn said this after I confessed a concern regarding her view of me. I had stopped by the place where her family stays currently (the vinemaster is there – convenient), and she rather quickly spotted and persuaded me to visit upstairs. Ostensibly to receive a gift, but it was natural for us to fall into conversation.

The gift was a rice-pouch that smells of jasmine and can be warmed to hold and relax. I enjoyed it, due to the obvious, but did not wish for her to think that I required any comforting. Softness, weakness or that sentimentality that I assumed triggered her disdain.

But this view originated from one of our first interactions. When Talil’s brother propositioned her in a pompous pose and she ridiculed him. She now clarified that it was not all hard-shelled individuals that deserved the mocking, only those who possessed nothing underneath that could support their pride. I had behaved this entire time thinking that any display of feeling would invoke teasing.

Markings

The conversation with Nemeiah did not go as poorly as I had worried. The procedure she subjected to, while it must have been invasive, did not seem to leave her with lingering ailments. Only more questions on how she was made. But she thought it worthwhile to have peered within, in a literal sense.

“He” left markings in her. These were not altered or removed when discovered, nor were the tools present to do so regardless.

I apologized for my rude departure after she first told me of the operation, and cited that I could not support the thought of it along with the other instabilities at that moment. Then when she tried to contact me to notify me of the benign result, I was busy.

In addition, I did not tell her as much of what happened. Only assuring her that both I and my beloved were well. 

Keeping Watch

I have spent the greater portion of nights watching the boundaries of the manor, to spot the man that Nathan reported as lingering about. The Goodman did admit to taking a shot at him, which I approved of. If he had only appeared once I could dismiss it as error.

But three times did Viere poke about the border while I was away. That is not error. I must decide what to do with him when if he returns.

Vexation

Since returning to this realm, I have had opportunity to visit with Westlynn and to learn of the situation that vexes her family. A troll threatened them and damaged her sister. Thus, he must inevitably be dealt with.

Although the goal is clear, the method is not and there is little I am able to offer aside from support. Another troll that she refers to as both ‘traitor’ and ‘insider’ spoke with a few of us to warn of the danger. Felonous advocated the destruction of every troll involved, including the informant. I advised caution.

Moreover I worried that Westlynn would scamper off alone to remedy the menace, but she told me that she would refrain. I do not consider that a promise.

Storytime: Freedom

((Hey everyone! This special entry marks the 400^th post on Annjia’s Journal. 400 entries, 75,000 words. When I started I never expected so much to be written! As usual, I’ll take a few days off and resume posting on Monday, January 7^th.

Thanks for reading!))

More than two years had passed since I was raised. It was winter, and I still ached from injuries received when the world shattered and Tirisfal trembled with a great earthquake. Viere calculated that the power of the black dragons, and the Twilight Cult that served them could be leveraged. I was sent to integrate into the cult and deduce their worth.

The plan was progressing, until I encountered Shadowstep.

We fought among the cliffs of Hyjal and she, more agile than I, maneuvered to where my charge propelled me over the side. I caught the edge but the impact of body to wall bent my arm and broke it. I had been numb for so long already and hardly felt it. Attempts to lift myself up again failed and I fell.

Shadowstep achieved the high ground and brandished sharp projectiles. I elected to run away. This was typical of my character at the time. There was nothing to save or fight for and cowardice enabled survival.

I returned to Tirisfal to recover and found that the supply of healing potions in my stock depleted. In the halls of the labyrinth I met one of Viere’s other servants, the void demon, and he politely pointed me to Viere’s study where more potions were kept.

Never was I permitted into the study alone, but this time he was not there. While I looked for the potions, I found something else that I recognized. Something that he had taken from me to advance his powers.

I took it back.

The moment I did, the control he had placed so thoroughly in my mind snapped and my thoughts were my own. It was not a painless transition. Nor was it solely mental. I could feel everything changing in me. It is not solely an abstraction or dramatization to say that I could feel my heart beat again.

And there was nothing to stop me from destroying the man who had stolen everything. I proceeded to Viere’s chambers and found him awake and thoroughly displeased for me for disobeying his command to remain out of his study.  He began to wind up words. And I wound up my fist. The looks of surprise on his broken face delighted me, but pleased me less than the look of horror after when he curled his hand and tried to punish me. He found me immune.

Mirtai fled the room while I executed revenge on him. But beating on him did not appease my fury in full. He finally defended himself after a toll and struck me away with a blaze of fire. The bed and nearly everything else in his hollow empire caught aflame. I found this ironic and satisfying.

We flung a few bitter words across the room at each other but the greater fight was over. Yet he claimed pride, even credit for what I had become. He marveled at his own ability and prowess in making a creature that could develop thus. And he warned me that I was not prepared for the greater world. I proclaimed the bargain that if he did not pursue me, I would not kill him.

Now I know that he violated that pact. But I let him live that day, as I did more than a year later when I fulfilled another deal with him in exchange for the information and means to save my beloved.

Why? That I cannot answer in full. Had he made me more ignorant, had he treated me with respect and care I would not have sought escape. Some part of me may have been too proud then, watching his room burn, and gloating, needing to relish his frustration at losing his favorite possession. I wanted him to suffer. And he did suffer. 

Later, part of me may have wanted to see what he did with his own freedom. As granted by my hand. If he too could, out of torment become something better.

I do not think he has. Nor do I assume that he is gone from my life. I expect that there will be at least one more meeting and one more choice.

The uncertainty with which I reflect on my motivations contrasts, though, with the certainty of direction now. I cannot be bound thus, again. He made me, but I made myself strong.

Kaelyn's Rose

I have resolved upon a project for the spring, in addition to more construction on the property. There is a rose hybrid that I experimented with before the snow. I had managed to get a few buds produced, one of which I gave to Kaelyn as a gift in a preserved state. I did not have a name for it then but the color intrigued me.

When the roses wake I will work to see if I am able to foster a stronger generation of buds that can be spread in force about the garden.  I think it would be a fitting tribute, if I am successful, to name it after her.

That is, if I am able to find more seeds or seedlings to plant and ensure a robust blooming. A search around the ruined kingdom of Gilneas produced only disappointment in that regard.

New Year, Old Friends

I ventured out and into the cities again, and greeted old friends. Nemeiah, Westlynn and Kruega are among those. This time, with certain others removed from my acquaintance, reintegration has been much more pleasant.

Kruega also returned from his wanderings and seems well, if a bit unsteady on his hooves. But that is not unusual. Nemeiah, though our last long-distance conversation was tense, appeared intact when we spoke in person. I returned her prayer beads but there was not opportunity to do or speak of much else. For the next conversation with her, I anticipate difficulty.

Westlynn quite immediately swept me up into a walk about Orgrimmar to count and name bonfires. I had agreed long before to more outings and could not refuse the invitation despite feeling tired. I offered her a belated Winter Veil gift.