Kinai's Book of Darks

[Interia_Discordius]

At the top of the letter are the words "Please read after the first." The letter is written in loopy, curly letters, yet the accents and cutesy ways of crossing her T's and dotting her I's are left out. Instead, the letter has more of a calligraphy style to its writing, cursive and serious, beautiful and adult. Perhaps this in itself signals a growing up in the writer, at least to those who have seen her penmenship before.

To You,

I hope you got this safely...I wasn't sure about leaving it with Nix, but if you're reading this, then I guess all is well.

There's...Been a lot going on, as you already know. I described it all briefly, but I feel I owe to you something more than that. You're all I really have in this dark world, after all. You and him.

Frankly, I'm scared. The word scared doesn't even begin to describe how I really feel. Terrified maybe, horrified yes. The sensation of paranoia and the knowledge that I'm being watched makes for a horrible mixture. You know how much I had trouble sleeping before...Sleep feels impossible now. Even here in the home...

I can't let go of the skull either, not until I have it scryed...I feel like Czu Czu hugging this thing all the time. I wonder if I'll be a new victim. He never really talked about it, and I never brought it up, but I do wonder if he was a slave of the thing, that he killed for it. Maybe it was just his "insane" mind, but I don't want to end up like that...I don't want to feed a skull for the rest of my life like that. I value what little I have right now, and I can't live to see the day it is taken away from me.

What you think matters to me, despite how I run off to do exactly the opposite of what you say sometimes. I've kept my promises, however, and when it comes to the things that really makes a difference, I would do anything you ask if it kept us both safe.

I wanted to know...

What should I do? How should I act? I carry this skull and I keep the key tied till my circulation is nearly cut off, yet I feel lost. Yardislan said I would be the least expected to carry such things, so I take on the task bravely, yet the thought that anywhere I go could be sure death keeps me shaken to the core. You understand, don't you? You're so wise...I don't expect anything less of you.

The only thing I DO know, however, is to be careful. I refuse to show the key now to anyone except Yardislan and Hawk, maybe perhaps to the team I had gone with that had landed me in this position in the first place...But you should have seen how the others, the "normal" people, acted. Yzar literally fell into an obsessive state, demanding to see it. If it wasn't for Hawk, I don't know what could have happened...

Some man is watching me too. He makes me feel really nervous, and he doesn't know how to shut up. His intentions are unknown, but the fact some thought is there keeps me on my toes. I have good orbs, being with you taught me that, and I can almost imagine seeing his eyes on my wrist. The very fancy that he wants it for himself is enough proof that I can't trust him.

I feel a bit crazy myself, using my daydreams to determine who is enemy and who is otherwise dangerous. You understand...I know you do.

Getting back into description mode now...Calm yourself, Kinai, he doesn't need to read all that jabber.

The mage I mentioned, you might find amusing. I personally was about to faint, but Hawk protected me from the man. The Weaver, I think, is an Ear Man. Anyhow, from what Hawk and Skabot told me, he was an illusionist. He made it appear that he had killed Hawk, although Hawk had no memory of dying...Or, something along those lines.

I just have trouble believing that Hawk had lived. I saw him fall right before me, and I can vividly remember Skabot shouting at me to run while he took on the mage himself. I did run, guilty as I felt at the time, but the mage didn't come after me. Whatever we did, I guess we did something right.

'Course, right after I flopped to Hempstead in a panting daze, did I see more of those flying eyes around me. . .

Then they came back, the team I was trying to make go to the Ire Mountains thought I was playing a trick or had eaten one too many purple mushrooms, and then the whole conversation with Yardislan began, and we're back at the beginning.

Everyone thinks I'm going mad, at least those who are unaware of the situation, and I can't let myself let you think that. The very knowledge you have now is potentially dangerous, but you're a careful man. I know you well enough, at least, to say that. I'll stay away if that's what you want...I don't need to be putting you in anything greater than what you are in now just reading this.

I'm rambling...

Just, leave me a note back, if it's possible. I'll stop by in a few days to see if you left me anything, and if not, I'll wait a good long time before coming inside here again. The mage is ever-watching, and I have to think five steps ahead of me if I want to stay alive.

This is just one of the thousands of decisions I'll be making in this situation I'm currently in.

Travel safely and unseen, you...If you get hurt, I'll kill the man who did such a thing. We have enough problems as it is without some idiot mage getting in the way...

Daralith, Krys, insanity, whatever it is...All to the back-burner. What matters the most are my promises to you, you yourself, this reality-warping artifact my key leads to, and the skull I drag along with me.

You and Hawk's thoughts are what I will base my own off of, although if you wish it, I can think for my own.

Please, let me hear back soon.

From the barmy as a Spire God woman,
Kinai Kinsei

[Interia_Discordius]

The handwriting is not as steady as it once was, shaken from what those close to her know to be fear and exhaustion. A single tear drop, wiped hastily away, is on the middle of the page, causing the ink there to smudge. It's clear that the stress from recently had taken a huge toll on the rogue girl. However, she writes as legibly as possible.

I came by, and although I saw the alcove in the secret place had no news from you, I admit to have too many recent happenings to speak of. So many, that it would take me ages to express everything I have felt during it. I bite back my tears, but the constant fear is wearing me down. I make decisions on a whim, and I can no longer trust myself on actions...

I have to find sleep, I have to, but when my eyes close, I see a drow mage tearing the key off of my arm, and I wake right back up. It's impossible, you... I wish ...

No wishing, right? I brought this upon myself and continue it there by refusing to give it away.

Having your life being put in danger every moment on every turn still awakens a primal trepidation, though. One that isn't put to rest by simple explanations that this is my own fault. I've met the Mother four times...You must understand the pounding that my heart creates everytime certain death looms near.

Two mages hunt me, Lin'da - I think that was her name - said. A fool mage that plays with illusions - most likely the one from before - and a drow mage who is a true danger. I met the drow mage today...An arrogant woman who believed me to be an easy target.

But power comes in many forms. I am one of many, and sheer number is known to be as lethal as one very experienced.

I suppose she knew this too, however.

She summoned something, something you might be familiar with. A creature with countless arms, each holding a weapon, and a torso extending into a snakelike body. Feral yet intelligent, a tornado trapped under the words of the drow mage... I could see my very life inside the black eyes of the creature. Have you ever felt that way? It isn't a pleasant sensation.

Big Brother saved my skin again. After this many times, I'm honestly not sure how I could possibly repay him. He's taken to calling me Little One...It's cute. He managed to get me to smile a bit despite the dire situations. I still miss you here with me, though. You and that abnormal warmth.

Lin'da took the skull I mentioned earlier. Its eyes glowed red, more infernal than my very blades, and the others were able to figure it was used to spy on me. She's taken it upon herself to take care of that scrying device, although I will keep the keys...

Should I feel bad? I dumped off a terrible curse upon another, hardly without a second thought. She offered, insisted even. The need for some rest from this being hunted is driving me wild. I'm doing everything except handing the key over. Can you understand? Am I doing the right thing?

Will you help me in this, my friend? Can I trust you with this knowledge? Your wisdom and guidance is what I value the most, and I can stop writing at any time you need me to.

But for now, I have to cut this off here...I can't focus on putting this down any longer. Please, please...Help me find rest. It's what I need the most, even more than the end of this insanity. If you want me to continue facing this with what courage I can muster in this torn and bloody body of mine, the darkness behind my eyelids is what I need to see. What I need to study...

Shadows be with you,
For you are one of the only two I pray no harm upon...
Kinai Kinsei

[Interia_Discordius]

The notebook and loose parchment containing her words are set off to the side on top of an elegant piano. The wood gleams in the light of the home, its black and white keys appearing new. A woman is seated in front of it upon a bench she had dragged up, splaying out thin fingers before beginning a melody of sorrow with a touch of hope. The music streams out in flowing tune, filling the emptiness silence had brought in with a song of human will. With pure passion of a broken soul, she plays. She dances across the keys with graceful and learned ease, streaming forth a number of chords.

Entranced, she sways in time to the music, sweeping up and down the keys. She plays a fourth, a fifth...She stops, striking a quick minor fall, then gliding up into a major lift.

Pausing the song, she opens eyes of emerald green. They shimmer with barred tears, threatening to break through the emotional dam for only a split moment...And with a blink, they are gone.

She folds her hands in her lap, resting those same hands used for lock-picking and trap-disarming, hands of which she had once constantly stabbed and wounded to ease the stress mounting ever on. Like the tears however, the action too was supressed...A promise was a promise.

The woman herself is of haunting loveliness. Her skin is pallid, her raven black hair swept behind one ear in an impatient effort to keep it out of her gaunt face. Dark circles, like the shadows on the moon, have found home under her eyes, and her breathing is rather shallow. As haggard in her appearance as she is, she still retains somewhat of her former glory. Kinai Kinsei. Her name roughly translated into a love that will never come. A love that cannot come.

With a deep sigh that seems to rattle the very core of her slender frame, she resumes playing, singing softly along. Her voice is sweet, a smooth alto. The lyrics speak of death and apathy, the movement of one's body that is nothing more than clearing space for another...Cynicsm to its fullest, or perhaps acceptance of the inevitable. Either way, it is clear the woman is filled with a wish for a time of peace. That perhaps she wants to see the other spectrum of fun every now and then, the fun that is laid back and relaxed.

[Interia_Discordius]

The letter is written in slightly clearer words than before, although the general health of the woman has not seemed to improve since the last time.

This is the first response I've heard from you. Nix hasn't left me anything, no...

As you can tell, I'm sure, the sleep hasn't gotten much better. I put myself up in a corner and asked for a few people to watch over me, but that itself brought no luck. All I managed to do was startle into a waking state only a few seconds later...If not paranoia prodding me conscious, the nightmares. I wish I could understand...

You spoke of a... A Maralith. The creature I mentioned earlier, with the arms and snake body. Is that what the drow woman summoned? Even the memory of it chills me. I guess I'm in over my head. What's new, right? I seriously need to start using my worms more often. Maybe I just need to grow them, first.

You brought up some great ideas though with the Rift and the other areas. I'll mention to Hawk about talking to Ozy and staying in the magic-less areas. The only reason why I hesitate with the Rift is because of its closeness with the darkness itself. The lack of the Weave runs both ways, and the last thing I want is for Hawk to be caught defenseless and myself too vulnerable to fight. I'm glad you mentioned it though... Honestly, it might be a huge help between when Lin'da and the others gather us up to face this - once and for all - and now. Maybe I'll stick to the shadows down there...Maybe.

Lin'da... I still feel terrible. I know it was for my own good, but...

...

I have to admit, it sort of hurts that I can't show you the key, although I'm glad I can still talk to you about it. The Abyss sounds worse the more you describe it, although I doubt I can ever fathom the true horror of it. Actually, I know I will never be able to. I wish though that I could help you find some way to handle it. All a girl's dream, correct? Nothing more than a fancy of something that can never happen.

A girl's dream that can never happen... She crosses the rest of the words for some length out until the words are completely illegible, as if deciding it's a bad road to go down with in the letter.

I released some of the stress at the piano earlier this morning. I wish you were there to hear it... It was such a pretty song. I even attempted a little singing. My mother was a bard, you know. I'd never personally strive to become one, but what gifts I have received from her are blessing enough. I'm not sure how fond you are of music, but I love it. I love being lost in the melody and being able to express myself in a way I don't feel I need to prove to anyone who or what I am. It's a release, a freedom...

Who am I kidding though? I miss you. Come home...At least to a place where I can see you again.

From,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

She writes quietly in the room he had let her take, and pens her thoughts on a letter she plans not to give. Just something I have to say, she thinks, it doesn't matter. It'll be a parchment she may show him someday, just for old times, but as she finishes, she tucks it into the front page of her notebook. Not discreet, but she trusted he wouldn't go poking around in there. A confession of the heart.

Dear Dur'Thak,

This letter-writing has become sort of a habit. I hope you don't mind. It's not like you have to respond. It's a way for me to write and speak to someone I trust...I never get to see you, so it's just a way for me to settle my own loneliness.

I spoke to a group of commoners lately. Their appearance itself made me cry...The children were as thin as skeletons, and their mother and fellow neighbor man no better. A funeral, they said, they attended. I just listened as Yard and Pyyran talked to them for a while, adding a few cents in when it felt necessary. I used to be a plain commoner girl before too, although starvation in Hlint Hlint was rare. Maybe a day without food, but this...

Is it getting worse in this world, Dur?

They have no hope to live on, and I know that hope and faith - perhaps in each other, not always a god - continues us on. Food and water fuels our body, but a touch, a smile, that is what truly keeps us from the Mother.

It's what keeps me on too...The rare moments when your temper is never so flared, and the times I can see your kindness that holds so many scars of a cruel life. I would never admit it until that someday comes, but I still feel the way I did. A thousand dreams, a thousand tears, a thousand sighs...It all proves that emotion exists, and under the truth, I surrender.

I cannot lie to myself.

I give myself what truth I can. No one can take that away from me. The shadows and reality...It's all I have to call truly my own. I wish you - we - can change that. Make it an us or something.

But doubt lies within my mind as much as the pain of seeing you walk away whenever we part. Will a day come that such a pain no longer exists, that such an agonizing wondering is gone? You tell me to move on, but we both know me well enough that if it'll happen someday, I'll still come back like the fool I am. I tried once, didn't I? That was before I even knew you that well...I probably still don't know you that well.

But that didn't stop me from doing what I did.

I don't plan to send this letter, as I really don't want to cry as back then, when I first admitted. But...I had to say it somewhere.

And in these letters, letters I felt were so simple, I realize I show you my soul.

I'm sorry I can't do as you say this time, I'm sorry I can't move on.

Chit.

[Interia_Discordius]

It is obvious this is another letter for Dur'Thak, but instead of writing them upon separate sheets of parchment as Kinai had done in the past, she has simply begun writing them in her journal to him, as if someday, perhaps, she will hand him the entire thing so he can read it.

Breathe deep, my beloved, and through the smell of primer, what can you sense? Pain, tears, or perhaps the only right one can muster in a time of wrong and a choice of neither?

Don't get me wrong, I won't be hurting you, or really myself.

I wish I could say more, but words elude me. All I feel is the grumbling in the stomach that he had brought upon with that spell, and I fall silent. I'm not supposed to say anything. It's nothing!

Nothing...

Even if it'll mean everything...

[Interia_Discordius]

She writes this up on the deck of Port Hempstead, listening to Anna and Connor speak of the troubling times during the war, it of course bringing an exasperated sigh from the woman.

Harmless fun, that's all I ever intended. Heck, I thought it'd be sort of funny to see the looks on their faces when they noticed it. How was I supposed to know it was dangerous?

That being said, I'm ashamed of myself. Ashamed doesn't come close to cutting it. I do hope they lock me up for a good long time, - maybe I'll come out a shadow - but nothing permanent... Or deadly. Maybe they'll poison my drink. That'd be entertaining and one experience to remember.

I wonder if a cleric would bring me back to life though. I sure hope so. If not, I'll make sure that my spirit haunts the place and spends an eternity giving them the scare.

...Is there even anything fun to do in jail? I at least hope they'll allow me visitors and my own notebook. Talking and playing with my own shadow would keep me busy until I'm able to do everything possible with it, and then, look out. Bored Kinai makes for nasty outcomes. Although last time was NOT, NOT, NOT intentional. Why would I even want a little girl to die? I don't!

Poor girl... I hope I can talk to her. I found that little glass object she dropped in the water, too.

Guh. On a side note, do not make a book out of Hamajii's assassin fan again. The blasted cover's cut my finger dozens of times by now. Maybe I'll just dull one side of it, and it can be like... Reading, person walks over, person tries to kill me, slit their throat with book!

I'm going a little crazy, aren't I? I'm sure you can understand. Being hunted by three mages, never seeing my one sanity, having a spell put upon me where I saw and felt my own arm being ripped off... And this. Now this.

Maybe I'll plead insanity.

The trial comes and the judgment as well, but I can't let this break my focus. - Is that what He would say? My dearest Dur'Thak? - My life's destiny is still to become one with the darkness, Tomas reminded me of that, and once that is done, I'll let myself freak out over this trial and hunted and betrayals and other crazy businesses once I'm in a better position to do something about it.

For now, I'll do what I can, and hope very, very much that my "fun" didn't land me to my death.

[Interia_Discordius]

The woman before you is a terrible beauty. Unlike the others
around her, it is almost as if a god had created her with nothing
more than ice and marble. She is of small build, yet not slender
in any vulnerable way. In fact, her body is powerfully built, but
any bulk muscle is hidden under predatory grace. Her nose is
aquiline, her teeth white and straight, and jet black hair as dark
as night's sky frames an angular face of soft skin. Emerald eyes,
reflecting all they see, survey the area in front of her, and they
sparkle with a hidden mischief that is almost uncharacteristic of
her first impression of mystery.

Her hands, all the way up to her wrists, are lined with spidery
scars. In the middle of her left palm holds the largest mark, as
if a blade had been pierced through there. Occasionally, although
very rarely, she traces the old gashes on her hands in silent
contemplation. They seem to be only the real flaw on her...That,
and the crooked smile that parts her lips and puts light onto her
cruel features when joy flutters through her heart.

On the back of her neck, hidden under her obsidian-colored hair,
there is the word "Appearance" tattooed into her fair skin.
Appearances to hide behind, and appearances to become.

A shadow, her mask, more evident in the light of day, dances about
behind her, almost as if it is moving on its own. It shifts about
with the same effortless manner as its owner.

But in battle, she could be described as intimidating, cold, yet
fascinating. She vanishes in and out of sight, crounching down
with twin kukris in her bone-white knuckled fists like a cat ready
to spring.

Despite such an unknown clinging to Kinai like her own darkness,
she seems cheerful. Her appearance is warmed by her grin and her
laughter, and she seems at ease with those in her company.
Several times, however, she looks over her shoulder, as if she is
being watched by a malicious force none else can see...

A change is growing upon the wind's of fate...And they swirl around Kinai as if in foreshadowing.

[Interia_Discordius]

After finishing her own assessment of herself on a piece of parchment from above, attempted along with a rather childish drawing, she returns to her normal writing, this time titling a letter to Dur'Thak with the intention of actually showing him.

To you,

Corath's gotten his meddling hands into this key business also...At least, if not the god of destruction himself, his insane priests. I'm so sick and tired of people always feeling the need to get involved. It's my blasted key!

He mentioned something odd to me though. Only one of three he wanted... Perhaps a lie? Despite any method of getting the priest to reveal something - anything - all he really did was spout how much he truly needed the key, and that he'd kill me to get it. I guess Corathie priests don't have much useful to say besides maniacally cackle their own deity's words. At least us Shadonites are a bit more creative in our interpretation of "code."

I doubt you'd care about that sort of primer stuff, though...I tend to think "out loud" as I go along. You knew that. You know a lot of things about me...

Anyhow. He almost got the key. Almost is an understatement, for sakes! I had my sleeve drawing up, and then I hear the door open, and Gimli and Rose walked in. Goodness, if I could toot a horn and scream hallelujah, I would have!

Instead, I just walked around and positioned myself behind the others, someplace safe.

Needless to say, everyone got out alive... I'm worried though, Dur. There are more to the picture now, and it seems one key alone is sufficient. I wonder what's going on, and what people are wanting now...They keep laughing at my lack of knowledge. I need to figure this out.

Another trek is soon, and afterwards, maybe us and some others can go make an attempt at getting my destiny fulfilled...Right now, I'm depending on the focus for something, anything, so that I may go on another day.

Keep your fingers crossed, Dur. I don't have much time to write, but I just wanted to say, please hope for me when I cannot that I may come home safely to you.

From,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

Marked: Unsent

Dear Dur'Thak,

If you kill, does that make you a murderer? If so, how does that justify the constant "hunting" people do? What is the difference between killing Avierra, per se, and slaughtering a cave of ogres?

I guess I'm trying to come to terms to all the death that has been caused by my own hands lately. Trying to come to terms with all the death that I have seen...

I killed Avierra. I did as the drow mage had pretty much ordered me to do... Take the dagger, that acidic and dripping dagger, and slit his throat. It was an order, my life on the line. It was either do it or have a thousand Kinai bits strewn across Layonara. Self-preservation, I had no choice! You understand me, don't you? What could I have done under the given circumstances?

It was horrifying when the dagger ripped across his skin...His weakening, the way his corpse turned black and melted away into the ground. Everyone was furious with me, demanding, asking, pleading...I couldn't handle it. They didn't understand that I had to do it. The drow mage appeared then, praising me - although nothing positive entered my heart from it, and after I guess he realized I was about to be slaughtered, he teleported me away.

He was right... He is the only man I can trust in this artifact business. He fed me and let me stay in his hideout for a while until I was safe from immediate danger, and then he let me free. He'll find me again, I know he will...

And never once did he really demand the key. No, he has no interest in it, just like those Corath priests. There's something more of a mystery in this, but for now, I can't let myself be seen...I can't be the one to figure it out.

My destiny has begun, and just as I expected it to be...Under a storm of danger with a cloud of dark omens. With Lin'da hunting me with insanity's touch, I bargained with a shadow into becoming what I had always wanted.

Yet I wonder if the price was truly worth it. Over and over, my brain replays different ways of handling a situation. Yet it happened this way, didn't it? I betrayed, I backstabbed, I caused hurt...

Find Kard, the shadow had stated in its whispery hiss, and bring him back to me. It refused to tell me reasons, although Rhynn blatantly stated what she thought them to be...To use as a vessel, pretty much. I don't remember exactly what she said, Dur, all I could hear was myself saying over and over, this is your dream, this is your chance, take it.

And so I did...Big Brother, Steel, and I all went to the Scamp's Mug to talk to this Shadonite Kard. I'm not sure what Hawk thought about it. He didn't say anything, but I wonder if he was angry with me for ... I'm upset with myself. I sacrificed a man, of my faith, no less. I can't...

Kard had two other men with them, and Hawk did the beginning talking, which soon lead to a drinking game. I managed to sneak in a restoration potion to keep my senses about it, and convinced Kard to Lake Palden where the shadow was waiting. I can't help but feel the want to ask him why, why did he trust me? He could have saved his own life.

Yet he let me do as I wanted, and in the end, it got him in a worse place than death's grips itself.

You joined up sometime around then...You didn't say anything, just followed along as I walked the drunken man, eyes covered, into the grove. I could hear myself chattering away, but deep down inside, I felt cold and broken. What was I doing? I was pushing this guy into his grave. I was...

I was doing what I had to get myself farther. I was being self-serving and inconsiderate. Isn't that technically wrong? I wouldn't appreciate it being done to me...

It's necessary though in these dark times. I can't understand how giving some people can be when I can hardly scrape by. I'm pretty well off compared to most adventurers, but that's because of these self-serving actions. I hate myself for it, yet I'm slowly getting used to understanding it's what I have to do.

His screams haven't left my dreams yet...Everytime my eyes close for a nap, I see the shadow devouring his flesh and soul. I hear every single bit of it, and then I can see his expression, suddenly all too sober.

And then the shadow stepped into me...And then I became what I had fought for every day. I became a moving darkness.

I promised to you I wouldn't forget the horrors...Forgetting would be bad, I know that. Do you know how hard it is not to want to, though? Desperation makes you wish for some silly things sometimes...

You can connect when I say this, can't you? I thought I saw a flicker of what I guessed to be both respect and sorrow in your eyes...I wish things wouldn't be so tragic. That's what I'd make a promise to with a 'loth if in another life I could. I'd make it so we could live happily ever after, like in a bard's bedtime tale. The moral? That all good things come with a price...

I don't know. I'm rambling. I know you don't want me talking like that. I can almost imagine you whipping your tail side to side in a "you stupid primer" way that you do if I ever said that. Not that you'll ever read this, really. Maybe years later, once peace finds its way into your Abyss-ridden heart as well as mine.

I just want you to be happy, Dur. I want me to be happy too...But I find myself smiling whenever you lighten up, even if it is for a moment.

Either way, I am following down the same road you did, as you mentioned at the lake, and I hope someday the clearing at the end will come. We deserve at least that, I believe.

Until then... My ever-moving shadow will dance, and I will go on with my life keeping my promises to you, for you, and for me.

As always,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

Marked: Unsent

Dear Dur'Thak,

I miss you, as always. This eternal cold brought on by shadow's presence makes the empty void in my heart hurt worse, worse than before, at least. Your warmth always made me smile, even if it isn't anything human, and now...

Now, I just want it to stop the chills. I just want you there, you see...When we had that talk, and when you hugged me with full sincerity, all I could think of was how good it felt to be in your arms, and how calm and peaceful the world was despite the shrouded skies and suffering. For that one second, I closed my eyes and could imagine that feeling lasting forever.

Everything felt right...Yet it was bitter sweet with the knowledge that I still have to wait for the both of us. For me to grow up into some kind of committed woman, and for you to find a silence from the Abyss. It's how it should be. We shouldn't fake a change for each other or hide who we are because falsehood never lasts long in anything...

Ozy told me to find Tik'valluha, the "only person" who can calm the Abyss in you, although by the way my question was worded, it sounded more like she could get rid of the entire thing. She's in a realm where Blood had returned from, he said, and didn't know what she'd want in return of doing something as great as changing a tiefling's very nature. Yet it sounds like a goal I want us to work in...

Would she be a 'loth, like those things you always mentioned? Is a 'loth a mariloth or...What's a 'loth? Would I be breaking my promise to you by making a promise to this lady? Would it be bad that I'm trying to help you? I don't know about any of that.

The idea sounds so beautiful, like a story of self-sacrifice and love. I could go and get her, and I could fix you...I could fix you and we could be what we were meant to be. I don't want to think about never being together as a fate. I'm fighting so much against that one request you had made of me to move on. I don't want to move on if there's still a chance. I'm a fighter, Dur'Thak. My father was and although I never saw eye to eye with him, I at least received that ridiculously foolish determination. I won't give up...

Although I wonder if I'm just refusing to handle the pain of trying to get past someone I care so much about. Oh, Dur'Thak...

Lin'da still hunts me. It seems she's got some lackeys for her, or something or another. She's finding me in places I'd least expect she'd look...Maybe it's bad luck, at least the second time was, but the first time? Something's a little odd.

Who can I trust anymore? I passed Tristan in my disguise, and he vanished into the invisibility spell. Maybe it was a coincidence, but when he didn't stop around to say hello, the hair on the back of my neck tingled. Paranoia? I have a right to be suspicious...

Right and wrong, good and evil, trust no one but yourself, and watch your back at all times...I don't even see Big Brother anymore, and with you always being gone, I feel so alone and isolated. I don't cry, I don't show weakness as much as I used to, but sometimes all I can do is sit and stare at my scarred hands and wonder just what is going to happen in my life, and how it's going to affect me.

Affecting...

That whole thing with the shadow left a mark on my soul, as I mentioned before. A fellow 'dancer by the name of Jser is helping me out though. We're going to make a troupe with our own language. I'll let you in on it, because I love you! [She seems to write this part in a more light and airy tone, as if taking light of the emotion for just the moment compared to the true depth of the feeling.]

I just think it's fair, you know? Becoming a shadowdancer is difficult enough as it is, there should be a team that can lead each other and guide one another, and if not even that, at least make use of the skills together. I won't be politically involved or anything... I'm just there to help out. I'll let Jser run the real thing.

The want for more knowledge in those shadows grow despite the fact I already am a shadowdancer, though. That's most of the reason why I want to do this troupe thing. I want to further my influence into the darkness, step into the shadows more. Greed? Maybe. Power-hungry? Most likely. I ache for it, though...I have a feeling I'm meant to search deeper into them, though. To see the true meaning behind the shifts of light and night. I know it will be a while, but for a long-term goal, it will be worth it.

Lots of forward thinking lately... You and me - us, the troupe, my very perception of how this world is...

Am I changing into something I should be careful of, or is this how things are truly meant to be? What is Fate and Destiny compared to what supposedly was never supposed to happen?

Ever-questioning the fabric of Truth,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

Marked: Unsent

Dear Dur'Thak,

My fingers got twitchy today. Fun locks, he promised. More jink, he said. Just take the book back from the man in the sketch, and it can all be yours. It wasn't said in such a fun way, of course, the man had the personality of a rock, but...I heard the chance for entertainment underneath, and I went with it.

Now, I'm not so sure of myself. The accounting book dealt in exports of wood and ore, at least that's what he said...I just had a sneaking suspicion as time went on (Sallaron's way of acting didn't help) that maybe, just maybe, it had to do with slave-trading or something. Gods, if that's what it was...

I'd go and rob the man who paid me to steal from the other, and I'll fix it all. I never like getting directly involved in that whole charity let's help commoners thing, but if I had made a significant influence on them, somehow, I would make sure I felt it was the right thing to do. Wrongs are to be fixed.

I keep saying that, but then I look down at the bag of jink, and I wonder...

Are my morals disintegrating, Dur'Thak? Am I just being ambitious? Maybe it was just wood and ore!

It all felt so childish back when I was younger. The only person to defy was my father, and the only stunts were locking commoners inside their homes while my friends would gather around me, giggling and betting a jink or two on how long it would take for them to get out. The worst thing that probably ever happened was that neighbor boy falling into the river and nearly drowning...

Even punishment was simple. Mind you, I never paid much heed to authority, and that's gotten considerably worse as time went on, but as a child, it was a slap on the wrists and late dinners for a week. Now, punishment is served in a cold jail cell with stale bread and stagnant water.

That was then, this is now...

Before, I felt guilty for every time I did something that felt "wrong" to me, but then I realized my rights and wrongs were defined by pre-set ideals of good and evil...

I don't want an already defined outlook. I want to be independent! Outside of you, of course...I always find myself acting like my old silly self around you, although you have seen my serious side just as well.

My mind is in a tizzy with this newer me, not to mention the beginnings of the Language of the Dark Order, as Ozy called it, that you have begun to teach me. Not a single word, yet a simple warning.

Oh, how learning the darkness can go awry...

I will be careful. I have been for some time now, and it will be no different now. Promises of words may mean nothing to you, and if that's the case, I will simply show you.

I will learn your language.

I'm not the person I once was. I'm smarter, stronger, faster. The little girl that clung to me has been released, and I walk into the shadows willingly with my own beliefs, knowledge, and goals. Naked of good and evil, and shrouded by right and wrong.

A new truth will be put into play.

[Interia_Discordius]

Marked: Unsent

Dear Dur'Thak,

I walked through Hlint Hlint today for the first time in a long time. Not a simple run on through, but speaking to the people, walking amongst the houses, weaving around the lake...

I even peeked into the trash can, wondering if it would try to bite my head off or something.

It's amazing how fast time has flown since I had left home. The very village I once despised and wanted to get out of time and again is now a place I return to for reminiscence and a touch of wistful hope for childhood innocence.

Remembering every prank played in the village was fun. I never stayed around the adventurers as a child...Father didn't let me, more like. I stayed in the commoner's area, causing an explosion of chaos everywhere I stepped. That's what happens when you try to shield a tornado in one spot.

...

Everything feels so familiar, like looking at a faded painting. Former glory. Now I see why everyone insists on never keeping your gaze to your back...All you ever see is black and white ruins of a once colorful past.

I passed the lake my friend almost drowned in once, a shiver going up my spine. To think I nearly saw my first death at such a young age, and then shifting my attention to my own scarred hands, realizing I brought death everywhere I went.

Evil doesn't fit the term, no. It's not evil. It's the Dark Ages. If someone isn't killing, another is. Shrouded skies sing for unpleasant times.

My feet walked away from the reflection in the gently moving waters, and I came across an ox...Another prank came to mind when I tried to ride one outside of the city of Hlint Hlint, to get away once and for all.

Needless to say, that had me without dinner on time for a good while. The ox decided to kick me off and slam right into a house.

I was a troublemaker, wasn't I?

It never quite grew off...Probably just grew up.

From,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

Marked: Unsent

Dear Dur'Thak,

I haven't forgotten that first lesson you had taught me so long ago, that first real conversation. The scars from the past remain on my hands, however, and I observe them quietly in the times I have nothing to say as my friends, acquaintances, stand about...To remind myself to stay on the clear as I am now.

I've been dedicated to the promise despite the itch that returns, and whenever it feels to be too much, I simply close my eyes and spread my senses out.

With that, the true clarity of the world is beginning to sharpen itself into my mind...I feel almost enlightened, an icy sensation like that of my shadow's coldness in my body as I observe the Dark Ages as it is.

I feel empowered. The details of every scratch in a tree's bark, the grass swaying in the wind, the sounds of the others' breathing, the smell of their nerves as the next battle comes up...Everything. I can sense all of it.

It is almost as if my constant training to keep sight sharp, ears tuned, and nose ever working that has brought on this haunting view on a shattered world. Everything is so shrouded, yet I can still see.

Can you see, Dur'Thak? I've never tried to test you on such a thing, nor will I ever. I simply want to know if you can share this strange experience with me. Perhaps someday I will mention it to you. Maybe.

The dragons are returning, the fearful whispers on chilly breezes cry. Malevolence, self-serving, the true instinct of a beast bent on survival and ambition is awakening. A cult, they say, a cult tied to the returning dragons...I even saw them, fought them. Being a good scout does have its advantages, not to mention being one with the darkness even more.

Dare I say it? Am I useful? It makes me feel glad. There is an intimacy to working in a group that I will never abandon...The sound of their footfalls, their talk, even my chatter. Despite the usual solitary path I always hear that shadowdancers take, I cannot leave what I love...I refuse to. I'm a stubborn old goat, but I got to where I am now with those I call my friends.

Looking down at my scarred hands, knowing my focus, feeling my want. There's only one way down the adventurer's path, and in the end, we are all ambitious for becoming better at what we do.

I might travel away from them sometimes, but abandoning? Never.

I ache to know the shadows more...To walk the plane. Fear will be the rock to sharpen my focus upon, and determination the fuel for my mind.

You are my guide, my love. I would have been a simple-minded Hlint Hlint girl with nothing but dreams if it wasn't for you.

Always,
Chit

[Interia_Discordius]

Kinai slips inbetween the trees of the Silkwood forest, her footsteps silent and her silhouette nearly invisible. She places her hand on one of the tree's trunks, tensing her muscles like a cat ready to spring. She lunges, her hands catching a branch. She swings once, letting go and landing gracefully on top of it. Leaping, the only sound coming from the wood as it creaks under the sudden weight, she scales higher, and finally comes to a stop to sit down in an area secluded by leaves and webs.

Examining the area around her, satisfied that the spiders who share the tree with her were elsewhere, Kinai takes out her small diary and a quill, writing her latest thoughts down. Her expression is masked mostly from the shadows of her hood, but her face appears serious, and there is obviously a reason why she chose an area so far apart from humanity to write.

Layonara, this world is called...
A world of creatures too powerful to consider sanity.
A land where the darkness makes crimes saintly.
A place where confessions are like a feast for the soul.
In a time of self-driven ambition, a simple reaching out moves a heart.
Yet such an action is rare...
And all the while, the babies cry for simple nourishment,
Widows sob the loss of their loved ones,
Children are puppets of skin and bone,
Parroting their lamentations for a better world.
And we rant and rave our beliefs.
Honor, betrayal, secrecy, openness, love, hatred, preservation, destruction.
But what does such actions hold in a time of death and loss?
The blackness of finality shrouds all of hope and despair...
It covers all of opinions, leaving but a cold hard truth.
The truth of the gravestone...
Yet we dream, and we look for the beauty in mildewed joy...
Joy turned into sorrow.

And I continue in my own path, perhaps to aid, perhaps to hurt...I avoid the latter, but I'm human, and I make mistakes.

Is my path a mistake?

Tadhg had said the shadow inside would someday consume me, my soul, myself as a person. Despite the strange adrenaline rush that surges through me whenever I think of it, bringing me shivers, I'm unsure whether to scoff at the idea or to believe it -could- happen. I'm unsure if I should be worried or to embrace the darkness...It would feel cold, I know it will, but there's something about power that's so...

So enchanting.

She freezes as a spider crawls down from above in front of her. It chitters, the fangs clipping slowly, venom dripping from them. Its many eyes pass over her as it surveys the land with an almost frightening level of feral intelligence. She relaxes slowly as it begins to clean off its feelers, observing the creature with a certain level of curiosity and interest, her entertainment only cut back by the danger of being so close.

"Beautiful," she whispers to it, and it tenses in response, the chittering coming to an abrupt stop. Kinai, with a small shake of her head, returns to her journal, letting the spider play with its fancies of finding her.

Morally, I can't allow myself to be lost to a shadow. No, it promised to be my servant, and I had let the trauma of seeing a man devoured by it to burn into my memories in return...A deal is a deal.

It's not really that I'm worrying of the shadow inside me overcoming me, but moreso, such a thing only calls for more. I know I'm seeking for more power, for more, much more, and in a way, it scares me. I've never felt so driven by ambition in my life, but the more I scout and the more I dive into the powers of the darkness, the more I -need-.

I'm not so different from the mages who hunt me for the key. No one is really that different. Ambition is a common line that we can all understand each other through.

Hawk and Dur'Thak are probably the only two who can even sense it in me, though. Illtytyailmillnyala. Appearances. I hide well, don't I? I've never enjoyed lying to my friends, but what would they say if they could feel the lust for shadows in me? Disturbed is a good place to begin, but downright horrified might describe some reactions...I remember when Serissa looked at the shadow Hawk summoned and flat out called it an abomination.

I wonder if they'd call me that, if ever came a day I achieved my dream and ... became a shadow or something. An abomination. Different.

I'm sure Hawk and Dur would still accept me. They're used to my quirks by now...

There's a place I can go to, I know, to find out more of the darkness and maybe slack the hunger for more that's building up...To answer some much needed questions, and do something about the everlasting chill in my bones.

The Shadow Plane...

It doesn't matter to me how dangerous it is. I could go alone, although I've offered Bee to come, and I do plan to ask Hawklen about it soon. It just depends on the danger of it. I need to go, though. Ever since a child, I have dreamt of shadows, and they have been watching me since the day I had stepped foot into the world.

Chosen? That's an arrogant word. Destiny, that seems more fitting.

It's just something I have to do, and you gotta do what you gotta do.

The spider returns to chittering after some time, curling up by Kinai's feet and watching the ground below itself. It seems unaware of Kinai's presence the whole time. She turns to a new page and continues writing.

New pages, new words...

A restoration of honor...A person goes to great lengths for their loved ones, it seems. At least that is what I see in Zoraje, and despite the horrible actions I heard of him do, I can't help but feel a connection. He acts out of love, and I know that too well. As flighty as my emotions are, I still love, and I don't even want to think about specific people. I hate the questions, and I hate explaining. It's not their business. Let me to what I do.

Someday, I'll settle down. Someday, I'll make a true decision. There's no rush, and people change...I can be with who I want and play out as life goes. Maybe somewhere I'll always wait for him, but he's right. I shouldn't let myself suffer with him.

I don't know. I'd rather not think about it. I'm content with where I am right now.

Well, slightly...There's that reputation of criminal I need to redeem myself from, and seeing Hawklen get a beating from the man who had hired me had reawakened a sort of rage.

No one hurts Hawklen.

I believe there's a restoration of honor needed from me also, and it'll start from joining with the very followers that Shadon would scoff at most.

Oh, Roffies...Come home, come home.

She sets down her quill and examines the spider as its feelers brush against her leg. Her skin breaks out into goosebumps, and she backs away. Hopping down from the tree, landing down to a kneeling position, she stands. Vanishing into the forest, a simple laugh breaks the deadly silence, a laugh of mirthless acceptance. The spiders awaken, falling to the ground around her like rain, but she is already gone.

[Interia_Discordius]

Kinai curls up against Hawk by the campfire under the tree in Xora's Tower. The snowflakes are falling silently, melting against her hands when they land upon her. She looks over to the elf priest, a smile crossing her face as she studies him deep in his meditations. Reaching out, being careful not to disturb him, she runs an index finger down his jawline, then turns to her parchment. Wetting her quill in the bottle of ink, she begins writing an answer to Shiff's questioning letter.

Shiff,

It's odd to know that you seek me out with your letter, but as a friend, I will do what I can to help. I'm sorry I took so long to write back, but you know me...I'm a girl of the moment, and letter-writing to people feels strange. At least, some people. No offense.

I've already talked to you earlier at the docks, but my mind was on other things, and so I feel I owe you a true response...It would help to answer a few questions you asked back then.

For the nightmares, you spoke that the gnolls began them, but every dream has its origin. You have dealt death as much as I, and I don't mean to make us sound apathetic, but neither of us had nightmares before...At least, not with things similar to this. We see death in children often with the starvation and the Dark Ages, yet what makes this different?

I feel you have some childhood issues you'll be forced to come to terms with if you want to help this problem. Just a heads up.

Really though, don't feel alone. I have nightmares quite often myself...

You mentioned the curse at the docks, and although I'm slightly familiar with the Weave (being with people who know of it sort of gave me the slightest touch), I admit I didn't feel a thing. I haven't told Hawklen about it yet, but when he's back with me in the "conscious" world, I'll bring it up. If I fall asleep, you might beat me to it. He knows a lot about curses...I'm sure he'll be useful for you.

She hesitates in continuing and shifts her gaze over to Hawk. The dancing fire casts shadows across his face, his night black hair blowing softly in the breeze. After observing him for a moment, she continues.

He is to me, in more than one way.

I've already talked to him about it, and I'm sure he'd be willing to help. Maybe more like come along to make sure I'm alright while I help you, but I know he'll throw his cents in. Ultimately, this is your journey, and while we can help, you'll have to do the majority...

She makes a move to close the letter, but her emerald eyes widen suddenly. Re-opening it, she writes swiftly at the bottom.

Oh, by the way, curses usually have a manifestation. Did you ever get that gnoll head you carry around checked out? I have a very sinking feeling you might just be voluntarily cursing yourself lugging that ick around.

Kinai

Satisfied, she curls the letter up and ties it shut, tying it to the falcon that had been hopping around impatiently for her. It spreads its wings far apart, feathers glimmering in the campfire's light, and takes off. She watches it go, then puts her quill and ink bottle away, placing Hawk's arm around her and drifting off into her own dreamland.

[Interia_Discordius]

The day peeks through night's shroud, illuminating Half Lake, only darkened by the dust and ash choking the air...

Emerald eyes flutter open within a home somewhere below, a large yawn interrupting Kinai's graceful awakening. She blinks a few times, tossing aside the covers and sitting up. Scratching at an itch on her back, she examines the bookshelves that create a makeshift wall.

She rubs at her forehead, feeling a small headache somewhere behind her eyes. "Odd dream..."

Falling back into bed, she stares up at nothing. The same scene kept repeating within her head...She could vaguely recall walking through a room of shadows, hearing her heart racing somewhere within her chest, and pausing at a hallway.

A hallway of pure light, piercing the darkness and burning into her memory. Despite being a 'dancer, all she could do was linger at the doorframe and gaze inside, inside at the marble floors and high ceiling, the beautiful light streaming down and alighting her world of sleeping reality.

She wanted to walk inside so bad, her feet literally ached, but she held back. A warning, clear as that image, echoed in her head. A caution, a little advice to not step inside.

The next moment, her path returned to the black of darkness, and the dream blurred from memory...

Placing a hand over her eyes, she takes a deep breath and laughs lightly without mirth. The shadowed one dreaming of light, she thinks to herself within her giggles.

Reaching beneath the bed, she withdraws her journal and flips through it before tossing it back under. She fluffs her pillow, admitting to it she wasn't in the mood to write, and drops her head back down, drifting away into sleep.

[Interia_Discordius]

She bites down onto a finger as she searches for her journal, trying to return the feeling back into her digits. After a slow-going hunt in her pack, she retrieves it, and opens it up carefully in her lap to write. The quill is held awkwardly in one hand, and she begins to attempt penning down her thoughts.

The "appearances" lesson Hawklen taught me have done me well...People are asking, but I've managed to hide how truly sick I feel. I can't allow myself to show weakness, and not because it's weakness, but because if I believe the worst is what is truly going on, showing how terribly ill I am would get me killed.

Elzhabehl is convinced a drow is involved, as the spiders are the minions of the "tainted" race. Normally, I'd leave a drow-hating elf to their fancies, but this particular accusation rang true...

I had recently betrayed a drow to the Angels, after all...

Pausing a moment, she pulls her hood farther down her face, trying to block out the light she had enjoyed only a few days before. Now, it created a wave of pain everytime she looked out.

I'm poisoned. At least, that's what Elzhabehl said. I found a bite on my foot from where a spider had been on - although it took me a second to make a connection between said spider and foot. He examined it for a moment, with all of his doctorly rigidness, and stated I was poisoned.

She sets her quill down for a moment to rub her cold hands together.

Neurological poisoning. It's not too bad yet, just my fingers and toes getting the blunt of the numbness, but it can and will travel. Moving, fighting, I can't do any of that right now...If I don't be careful, it will spread faster than I can stop. Poison has a tendency to do that, you know.

As a young cleric requests the permission to heal her, she shakes her head and refuses. He continues for some time until she visibly snaps for a split second, her voice growing razor-sharp and her body growing tense. The poison had obviously made her irritable.

I'm waiting on Hawklen to return from wherever he is to make things better. Why? I don't know, but I don't want anyone else to go randomly healing me. It isn't about speed here, it's about efficiency, and I've always trusted Hawk to do the best job for me...

The people gather around Hempstead talk louder, as is the natural human thing to do. Growling low in her throat from her pounding headache, she stands up dizzily, swaying on her feet. Her hand reaches out to steady herself with the bench.

No one notices, and she gratefully slips away into the darkness of shadows. Nothing is left where she is sitting except an empty ink bottle, and the people talk on.

In the unseen corners of the city, before leaving to suffer in silence, alone, she whispers a small prayer to her god...A small prayer that Hawklen would return soon for her.

[Interia_Discordius]

The forest canopy blocks what light comes from the sky, scattered fragments of it the only evidence it is still day. Below it, Kinai walks slowly, her eyes to her surroundings. Peace came not in sleep and dreams, but in sheer clarity of what was around her. Here, in the forests of some unnamed part of the world near the Lake of Dreams, she allows her senses to dance amongst the fallen leaves, to listen and see the shattered lands for what they truly are...

Approaching the chasm that holds home to a cave of danger, Kinai sits in the shadows under a tree, taking out her journal. She takes out a candle and balances it on her leg before wetting her quill and writing.

Hopeless romantic. If one were to describe oneself in a phrase, I think that'd describe it pretty well. It's like a story, but perhaps this one will have a good ending for the both of us.

Pyyran and I had a long talk, and the main gist of it was...Dur'Thak's too haunted to handle the both of us, and I can't do anything for his problems. I know Pyyran, that fatherly figure of mine, doesn't like Hawklen much, but I think he agreed that staying with him would be best for me.

Not that I was considering leaving...No, I'm just looking for closure and the right thing to do. He's a strange elf, but at the same time, I truly do care for him, and he's done so much for me to show that he cares too.

Either way, I don't want things to get any more serious than they are now until I know for certain I won't make a mistake. I want to make sure I can get over Dur'Thak...As much as a part of me doesn't want to.

I wonder though, how smart that part of me really is. That's the same side that drove the kukri through my hand, the same side that caused me to make so many other mistakes.

Kinai Ancalime...Doesn't sound so bad. I could get used to it.

She furrows her brow in thought for a split moment, tasting the name for herself. A brief smile crosses her lips, and she continues.

I'm no longer poisoned...Hawklen made sure of that. I don't think I've ever seen him so mad before, either. I'm sort of worried for Thomas. I'm not sure what Hawk would do to him...

He deserves it though. Poisoning someone for doing the right thing? At least, it was the right thing to me...

Tensing, she relives the memory of the assassin behind her, hissing the warning of being careful of who you betray.

I have a feeling someone will die, and I truly hope it isn't Hawk or myself...What goes around comes around though, and payment will be delivered no matter what, eventually.

The dice have rolled, the cards shown, the plan told...Now the consequences. A simple game of waiting, altering what you can and considering what one will in the small amount of time given between two large mistakes.

Content isn't something I'd describe for my life...I'm happy with what I have with Hawklen, but my eyes are always glancing to my back.

My current list of problems?
- Daralith has my blood.
- I have an assassin after me.
- The book and two keys are now in the hands of the drow mage, that accursed drow mage...
- Some woman knows of that dream of light I had, and she'll answer me in exchange for a ring. It seems she's brought a lot of help for her along the way too. I need that ring, I want those answers...

One step at a sodding time.

She ends the entry with a low growl in her throat and licks her fingers, placing them to the wick of the candle and letting it burn out. Standing up and putting her things away, she looks up at the darkening trees. Slipping out her kukris, she sneaks like the very malars she hunts, and walks into the night.

[Interia_Discordius]

A tortured scream rips through the air, sending shivers down Kinai's back as she steps into Arnax's darker alleys. Her hand's already over her coin purse, her other clutching a dagger half hidden in the folds of her black cape. She moves with an arrogant sway, her feet stepping one in front of another with the grace of a stalking malar. She makes her way to a wall and sits against it, fading into its shadows as she begins to write, yet she doesn't vanish all the way. No, she likes the line of seen and unseen, the cold of shadow and warmth of life battling against one another for victory...

Belinara, Xantril, take your pick at a name. The world out here is a tortured mass of chaos, yet the pain draws me more than anything in the world. The tense structure, the constant adrenaline flooding the system...The clarity is ice-cold, and I'm empowered by the very sensation.

Hawklen has taken me out here a good number of times, and he himself could take on the balor that lays claim to the plains outside of Arnax.

I love it out here. Everything about it shoots up an amazing swirl of strength, and the only emotion I have is gratitude and love for Hawklen and the very drive of the battle. I need nothing else...This is what I live for.

This is what I die for.

It beats thinking of my conversation with Ralinda, of the occasional pain of remembering Dur'Thak...I don't want to think about that. No, this is beyond just Shadon's teachings of thinking of the here and now.

I'm doing this for my own good.

An animalistic growl emits from deep in her throat as a stranger passes, warning him to keep his distance. She wouldn't hurt him, no, she'd vanish instead...But she didn't want to be attacked.

My senses will be sharpened here...Xantril is my new home, and Mistone will be like a child's teddy bear, and the child is now a woman that looks at the teddy bear twenty years after.

It was so ... Plain, back then.

I, Kinai Kinsei, refuse to be plain. I'll never live with plain. I'll leave my mark on this world, and I'll be remembered...My story will be told, and the effect I made will flourish.

Of course, I don't plan an evil act.

Her eyes scan over Arnax...It was less hidden back here, the violence and famine that was a copy of the rest of the suffering world. She bites her lower lip.

No, I plan to fix something that has been ignored for quite some time...Something I feel is in my place to do. I may not be able to change the world, but perhaps I can help this city.