Entry 4

I grow weary of fighting. But my body feels as if it is no longer mine; my feet trudge on, my fingers draw my bow, from my lips spill statements and questions of concern for things I thought I’d never wish to know of. On approach of an Orcish town, we were ambushed and coerced into surrender by none other than Mirabella herself and her Orcish charge. She then tested our mettle, pitting us against a vile plant creature, for reasons that have yet to be made clear. Stranger still, was her promise to allow us to leave upon daybreak. None in this group seemed to find that fact somewhat disconcerting. There are a number of outcomes. The most obvious being, that she is a liar and will have our throats slashed while we rest. It is also reasonable to assume that she does not perceive any threat in us; be that the case, I could not blame her, though I do ponder the strength of that witch.

But, neither of these outcomes disturb me quite as much as the possibility that she is, perhaps, not as evil as is storied by my companions. Is that strange, to find greater worry in moral ambiguity, than in the thought of imminent death? I am sure of it now, I am not as I was just a few mere months past, for I am so beside my own nature and character. All my reason, all my rationing, cannot wrest this doubt from me. It gnaws in the back of my mind – this feeling I have, what if it is wrong? I am causeless, directionless, it is only instinct now that I let guide me aimlessly, as if by a river’s current.

Through every solstice I have endured in this world, I have fought baseless intuition. It is not as though I wished to deceive myself, to be severed from my instincts – I hunger, I want, I lust, and I quench these desires as needed. But never in my years have I felt something so powerful. It frightens me all its own, but to become invested in such a conflict as this, to have to actively answer the most sacred riddles of good and evil this realm has ever known, and account for my own actions thus? I am overcome, I do not know how to proceed.

And then, in such turmoil, I must be a source of strength for my compatriots, for we struggle greatly together. There can be no wavering, for we will be struck down at the slightest misstep. It is taxing, and I ache. Could it be worst of all, that I have begun to find a kind of solace within this discordant bunch, maybe comradery, or even care? To complete the change in me is to recognize the sympathy I have developed for each of them, even that trickster Yablo to some minuscule degree. As I lay awake next to Ejnarr, awaiting the day, my fondness for her grows. Not as a woman, but as life, to shield from malevolence and sacrifice for. It was never my conscious decision to become her caretaker, it…

I am amiss. Ehlonna, Larethian, tell me what it is that I should do!

Entry 4

Mindosia CursedLemon