Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:07:48 GMT -8
Sarain Noire [KE]: Journal The journal belongs to Sarain Noire while she was living in the Kingdom of Everthorne.
*A simple brown leather journal with a leather string tied around it to keep it closed. A small ankh emblem is on the lower right corner of the front.*
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:08:43 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jan 28, 2008, 5:36am
I thought of you that night when I could not see the moon. The sky was so cloudy that I could barely see the outlines of anything in front of me. I had taken to walks in the cold, breathing in the icy air and feeling it burn throat and lungs. It reminded me that I was still alive and that I could still feel.
A nearby howl made me stop where I was walking. I could feel my pulse increase. Suddenly it was as if my senses became ten times sharper as I listened for any movement. I heard none, and after a couple of minutes I began to quietly inch the opposite direction.
Everthorne—my home—I had spent little time there. I could not tell them where I have been, and even when I was in Everthorne, I was rarely seen. I have been avoiding conversation. I have little to say to anyone. Since that night…
I have been flooded with memories of you. I remember the warmth of your eyes and your joking smile. You would always make me laugh. I remembered that time when we were at one of the taverns in Britain, and we met and old woman by the name of Hester. She told us the story of her life. We heard about how she was once engaged to a prince and then sought after by a priest. She told us things she had told no one else such as how she had one son no one knew was hers.
She fascinated us, and we fascinated her. She thought we were together in some intimate way. We assured her we were comrades. She responded only by smiling as if she knew something we did not.
It was a month after that when you died in my arms. I cried so much that my sides ached badly, and I thought I would no longer breathe again. I buried you myself. I will never forget the words I said to you then.
I rarely smile now. I try to busy myself or reflect only on my recent actions. However, you have returned to my mind. I thought I had hidden you well. Now your face finds me in my dreams, and I try to convince you to return to your hiding place. You never did take my sternness seriously.
It is odd to be a part of a kingdom and still find the feeling of loneliness. You would laugh to hear me say such a thing. It is quite absurd. Surely there is someone I can confide in, but you know I have always been a bit stubborn.
A howl—somehow it reminded me of you as I was near my new home without you here.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:09:47 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jan 28, 2008, 5:45am
The Aratar—some might question this move that Glorfindel made. I do not know who would have seen it coming with the exception of Augren for he inquired as to some of my thoughts. I understand his decision though. There are times when male guards cannot accompany a female. I am to guard her.
I may be harsh with Ismene at times, but she does have my respect. I often think she is too nice for her own good, and it is that reason why I am often skeptical of her choices. I may have been protective of her all along.
It bears a burden on my soul to have to inform them of the information I received regarding the poison on the dart. Glorfindel and Ismene are to be married eventually. I would have thought them already married if I did not know otherwise. The union would be strength to the Kingdom, and why should Ismene have to die because some coward who uses a puppet wants something he cannot have?
Typical—it must be a male. For now, it is my time to be the bearer of grave news.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:10:22 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jan 29, 2008, 5:42am
Pet fish.
That is almost all I can endure to write. Pet fish.
Ismene and Glorfindel asked me to come with them to Istas so Ismene could drop off invitations. First off, Istas is all snow. It was my first time there and I cannot stand it. I do not mind the cold, but I do not like snow. I have my reasons.
I did learn that Ismene does not know East from West at times. Perhaps that is the poison affecting her mind. Perhaps. But where is it we were actually going? To the library in Istas.
Book after book.
There I met her friend, and they spoke of pet fish and books. I thought it would never end. Normally this would not bother me as much, but the weight of the news I would have to tell Ismene and Glorfindel was weighing on me. To hear such trivial banter was unnerving.
Finally we did leave, and I did tell them. I told Ismene first by herself. It was almost as if she had completely forgotten her current state despite the fact she seemed so weary. Afterwards, I told both Glorfindel and Augren. They are having someone else in the Kingdom look at the dart. I hope they have enough left for a sample.
I will keep myself alert for an answer, but for now I have done all I can to help solve the situation. I can only hope the Archon and the others can find the cure for this poison, and to end Ismene’s misery without killing her.
After all, she has another sort of misery to experience. Ah, marriage.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:10:57 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 3, 2008, 5:30pm
Ismene is well. As well as a woman who fears marriage and believes she is bad luck possibly can be well. I inquired about her reason for this fear, and I can understand. Perhaps not completely, but I can somewhat.
However, she did say yes to Glorfindel in response to his marriage proposal though she wishes to attempt to delay it. Delaying the marriage date will do no good. You can delay the inevitable for so long no matter if it is good or bad before it finally decides to make its appearance. Hopefully this time it will be good.
Despite what Ismene might believe, I do know she sneaks away. I have not confronted her about this, and I see no reason to do so—yet. There will be a time when I will have to, and that is also inevitable. It is funny how things are acceptable depending on the situation.
I have also informed the Rowleys that they are to be auctioned off next weekend. I cannot imagine anyone would want to buy them. To be honest, I would probably have to pay someone to take them for the evening. Kaylor seemed particularly concerned about what the auctioning entailed.
Edgar called Annabel a bird.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:11:36 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 3, 2008, 9:49pm
I have determined that it is Ismene herself who wishes doom. No matter what is said to her, nothing can seem to break her from her fears. She is going to be a runaway bride. Though I find myself wondering if there is more to it than what she has told me.
We do not know each other well. She does know more about me than anyone else in Everthorne. I have spoken privately about some of my past in hopes to help her in deciding what she wants. She cannot keep delaying it if she wants it deep down, but if she does not want it then she needs to inform Glorfindel.
It is a difficult situation.
I still question Azrael’s presence on her balcony the night she was poisoned. I am by no means saying he is the one who poisoned her. I have my theories that he was not. However, his presence there on her balcony brings many questions to mind.
What if he is what she is not telling me about? What if there is a romantic situation in this? Perhaps it is not romantic in the classical sense, but what if there is something more than just this trust Ismene has in him because he saved her life? I am certain some of the times she sneaks away that she is visiting with him. Obviously she does not want Glorfindel to know. So what is the secret there even if Glorfindel would object to their friendship? It is also just as likely something else entirely. There is something peculiar about the whole situation. I cannot determine what it is, but I will keep my eyes and ears sharp so I may find out.
Chaunce and Elora were married. It was a small ceremony since it was decided then they would have the wedding. I wish them the very best. I would be lying to myself though, if I said it did not hurt to watch. There are some things that will always pain me to see despite them being “happy.”
Sir Korthos has been gone for a while. I am uncertain if he is even aware of my promotion. Perhaps he would be thrilled. I do hope he is doing well.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:12:16 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 13, 2008, 5:55am
The stars are always exactly where I leave them. When I close my eyes, even during the day, I still see them. The same can never be said about people. Sometimes it is hard for me to see your face. Each day I feel as if I lose some detail, and I begin to wonder if you existed at all.
Then I will blink and I see Everthorne instead.
I spoke with Ismene some more, and she explained her feelings about Inethria and how she met Azrael. After hearing it, I find it difficult to understand how she can be friends with him even if he did save her life. However, he is smart. His friendship with Ismene ensures a way into the Kingdom. Power—it is what many strive for to some degree and others past the point of comfort. How deep does his intent go? Perhaps he gets both the friendship and the bit of power which comes with it.
Regardless, I am keeping my eye on him.
The Rowleys were arrested. This was a shining moment in Everthorne. We could use a few more of those. Shame on Devlin though—I expected him to be more behaved. I was not surprised by Edgar’s arrest though. That one was only a matter of time.
For a moment, I saw your face in perfect detail just now. Then I blinked, and once again you were gone. I made myself think of you, and your image was blurry. Images of people seem to fade away over time like words from a book.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:12:56 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 15, 2008, 10:16am
Ismene and I were devious on the holiday of love. We gathered as many stuffed animals as we could. Within the Garden we created an army of mongbats over the bridge with the purple mongbat as their leader standing atop his mushroom. A few dragons and horses went to other places. I even stuck a dragon in the limbs of the peach tree. We decided it was a flying dragon.
Many people who came to the garden commented on the army of mongbats. It all seemed to make Ismene happy, and it amused me as well.
There was mention of a faire, and I suggested a cake walk. People should want to win cakes as prizes. They are rather useful.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:13:30 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 20, 2008, 6:03am
Words are meaningless within the emotionless stare of the Pale Horse.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:14:03 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Feb 26, 2008, 8:52pm
It started when I looked up into twin moons. Silver then tinted red with my blood as I fell into the black water. I flailed my arms but found it difficult to swim to the surface with the pain in my side.
Buzzards pulled me out, as if strings were tied to my body. I stood and put my hands on my swollen belly. I felt a kick. Tears found their way down my cheeks.
Then the sky was painted white and I was blinded. I blinked and found my belly was no longer swollen. My surrounding was that of a graveyard. Ismene was knelt next to a grave and sobbing into her hands.
I felt the stitching in my side give way, and a cold hand reached into the wound.
It was then that I awoke from my sleep, staring up at the ceiling in Ismene’s room. A cold sweat clung to my skin.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:14:34 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Mar 10, 2008, 4:55am
No longer will I have to hear suggestions about resting. With the removal of my stitches, I am once again prepared to go about as I did before. I said goodbye to the clothing I had donned while healing, and once I again, I pulled the white Aratar doublet over my head.
I spoke with Devlin about our situation in Avernus, and hearing his own insight on the situation was interesting. I wondered how many in Everthorne supported the idea or even truly understood why we were in the snowy town. Is it purely moral obligation? Or are there other reasons as well?
No matter the reason, we do have men traveling there to help those in Avernus. Devlin said they did not seem grateful for the aid. I wonder then, why were we asked? That is the more important question. It is one that lacks an answer thus far.
What comes after a slow waltz?
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:15:04 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Mar 16, 2008, 10:36pm
It is curious what a strand of hair feels like against one’s fingertip when it has not touched another while ungloved over the course of several years. I wonder if my breath stopped in that moment for I was cautious about it, but I had to know if it was an action I could handle. Who would have thought such a small gesture would be filled with such intensity?
It was a wonder my heart did not beat rapidly within my chest. It does so now as I think back to the feel of the silky strands against the skin of my finger. What compelled me to reach out to another?
At times I have wondered what monster lurks within me for I have seen the monstrosity known as man before in my life. Other times I wonder if I died several years ago. Perhaps I was buried alive. Am I trying to dig my way out of a shallow grave? Or is someone else digging to find me within?
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:18:30 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Mar 19, 2008, 10:53pm
Dancing—from my hiding place, I watched Sir Korthos stumble and drop Aph. He is in dire need of practice. He left me a note at my home inquiring about it, and I will respond to him soon. Though, I question why I am doing this. Could I honestly be comfortable enough to dance with him even just for him to practice?
There have been people spending time in my orchard. They have been taking my fruits, and eventually I will have to begin chasing them off. I may have to put a sign up saying not to take the fruit.
The Archon and Ismene will be married soon. The rest of the Aratar seem amused that I will be wearing a dress. I do intend to change into my Aratar uniform immediately after the ceremony.
Dancing—how close can I allow myself?
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:19:19 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Mar 24, 2008, 4:44am
It was the first time I had laughed in years—literally years. The sound of it was awkward to me, but I did not care. He lifted me from the dip, and rested his forehead against mine. I was oblivious to time, and though I knew there was some furniture in the room, I did not see it until after the dance.
Dancing with Sir Korthos was different. I was helping him learn his steps, and to not drop his dancing partner during the dip. He did not drop me, and he did not step on my feet though he stumbled over his own. He is almost there. There was less feeling, but I did hope that he would do well on stage. I think I may attend just to see, and to support him.
A few told me I looked nice in the dress I wore to Ismene and Glorfindel’s wedding. I told them they would never see it again. I feel far too vulnerable in dresses. For a moment during the wedding, I prepared myself to run. Not to run away, but to have to chase after Ismene. They made it through the wedding, and she did not dart off. She looked lovely in her wedding dress.
I even curtsied to her and called her “Majesty,” but she saw through me and knew I was teasing her. She hugged me, and I was uncertain how to respond. I stood awkwardly and just pat her arm. The gesture is still awkward to me. However, I hope she knows I mean nothing by the way I reacted.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:19:52 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Apr 4, 2008, 11:33pm
The images seemed to jump around though remained true to the order of my life. It was odd seeing the faces of Scy and Ana so clearly considering how long ago I had seen them. I saw the twins, Jason and Jack as well as Ace and Domino. I recalled the first time I first set eyes on Scy’s Pit of undead.
I remembered so much from a time I can never forget even if I tried.
There were times when I felt something was tugging on my core, attempting to pull me elsewhere though I was uncertain as to where. The final tug seemed almost painful, and I tried to fight it off. Then the details were lost.
I opened my eyes and saw my reflection. A gentle voice told me of what had happened. I had been reliving, reenacting parts of my past. It did not sound as if I had attacked anyone, and for that I am thankful. This may have something to do with the blue smoke at the Aratar meeting, and I must speak with the others.
My body felt weary, and my eyes did fight to remain open. I felt safe, as safe as I could. I was so comfortable there, and I fell asleep in gentle arms.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:20:21 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Apr 13, 2008, 9:52pm
The fabric was soft, as soft as flower petals against my skin. I twirled in it once, listening to it rise in the air and flow back down around my legs. Again I twirled as the curtains billowed from unseen wind. The lighting changed from green to purple to red, and a faint hint of chimes could be heard. I twirled and twirled; stopping when I felt new fabric under my hands and a soft, slow deep breath.
I opened my eyes to the sunlight, and shielded them as I awoke.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:20:52 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Apr 15, 2008, 4:46am
Sometimes I feel as if I see the world without color. That the world is only shades of light and dark. Then a moment comes where I see the colors more vibrant than before, throwing me off balance for a moment and reminding me that nothing is ever as it seems.
Not even myself.
The colors from the windows were playing with the moonlight. I was almost certain I was dreaming with how rich they seemed. I touched the cool glass with my fingertips. The colors were there, they were real. Resting my head against the glass, and feeling the gentle chill touch my forehead, I stared closely to the pigments where the moonlight was peeking through.
It was in that moment that I knew I was where I should be—where I wanted.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:21:18 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Apr 21, 2008, 4:45am
As I write this, the rain is lightly hitting the window beside me. It is soothing to hear it, and it reminds me. What would I do without? I know what it means when I ask without. What would I do without the meaningful and genuine smiles? What would I do without the rare laugh?
It was something I did think about after. However, I am confident in my decision to not be without. I have lost everything twice before, and I made it through then so why not now as well? To me—it is worth it.
Ah, and the rain—it plays gently to my ears. It is a soft song I could dance to, and it is always something I enjoy to see and hear. I stood outside earlier in the rain, feeling the cool drops against my forehead and as they slid slowly down to my chin. I shall visit with the rain again before I rest.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:21:46 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on May 10, 2008, 11:07pm
For a moment, the world was bathed in black. I saw the thoughts of others; I saw the darkest corners of their minds. I saw their desires.
I plucked one from the air and held it close to my eyes. As I did, I felt a cold hand against the back of my neck. It did not startle me, nor did it frighten me. It was a gentle and careful touch.
I then saw the lives of every being tied together in a glistening web. It was like nothing I had ever seen. I saw where we met. There were threads that spun from that moment. Some of them were unfamiliar, but the boldest one that glistened brightly was the one that showed me everything from that point. It was the decisions I made and the ones that were made by others, and for a brief moment I saw everyone’s decisions entwined together, endlessly.
I felt the hand trace down my spine, and it sent a shiver upwards. And it was then that I saw only the darkness, and she enveloped me in a soft embrace. I was not frightened, and I was not ill at ease. I felt comforted, and it was as if time stood still only for me.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:22:13 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on May 25, 2008, 12:55am
Sir Korthos and the others have been gone for quite some time. It has not been too hard without them, but I do wonder when they will be able to make their return. The longer they are gone, the more likely we are to come in need of them during their absence. There was at least one attack recently, and I do believe there will be more soon. At least, that is what I should expect in order to be prepared.
A promise has been made…
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:23:34 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on May 27, 2008, 5:02am
The dark violet sky blanketed my surroundings. Shadowed trees reached up to it, attempting to tear a hole for means to escape. A rumble of thunder gave warning of approaching storms, and a streak of lightning only confirmed.
I heard the sound of a discordant harp nearby. Following the sound, it led me behind the Garden. There was a small girl dressed in dark red. Her skin was near white, and her dark hair was pulled neatly into a bun. The irises of her eyes were the color of daisy petals, and a thick black ring circled around them.
She played her tune on a small harp. Upon listening closer, the discordant tune had some form of melody. I kneeled down next to her and watched her play.
A cold, wet drop of rain hit my cheek, and the girl ceased her playing. She looked me directly in the eyes, and for a moment her eyes were completely blackened.
It was in that moment I felt as if I was sinking into the ground. It was as if the dirt was trying to swallow me whole, and I clawed at the grass, raking my fingers over dirt and rock. My fingernails bled and left small bright red droplets on the ground. A roaring sound hit my ears as if the wind were angry.
Then all was quiet. All was dark.
I felt a gentle kiss to the back of my neck. I felt arms wrap around my waist and felt a firm chest against my back.
Slowly I opened my eyes. The light in the room was the softest blue of moonlight. Where it hit my cheek, it felt cool and wet. The rest of me in shadow felt as if I was covered by a soft fabric.
A gentle voice spoke my name.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:24:25 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jun 8, 2008, 7:22pm
There are times I still feel the soft kisses upon my skin. I feel them on my neck, chin, and even one on the corner of my mouth. Absently, I find myself feeling those places as if the lips have just touched my flesh. However, those moments always pass but eventually they occur again—always gentle reminders of times gone past.
Glorfindel has sent the prisoner into the Legion. I am uncertain about this decision though it was his to make and not my own. I find myself wary of the man who once attacked our Kingdom. It is true that he does not seem the same as he did then, but how are we to know if he will never start again? I suppose that is Devlin’s role. He is likely to keep an eye on the recruit and send notice if anything he says or does seems against the trust of Everthorne.
This time I feel them on my fingertips.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:25:14 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jun 15, 2008, 10:38am
I have had the same dream several nights in a row.
It starts with a knock on the door. Upon opening it, I see a small girl. This one wears all white and has light blonde hair. Her eyes are completely black even the whites. She holds her hand out to me, and I take it in mine. It is small, and it feels cold and much like a sponge. I almost wonder if I squeezed too hard if I would wring what life might be in her out onto the ground.
She leads me outside to my pathway—a simple clearing and archway through the trees. We weave our way around the trees and stop at the scarecrow. With a pale finger, she points at it.
I let go of her hand and walk to the scarecrow, standing in front of it and staring at its possible intimidation. Then, like with the other dream, I feel myself sinking and being pulled into the ground.
After the darkness subsides, and wishes to offer me a little light so I may see, I find myself in a small room. Dark blood is in large puddles on the ground. It seems to shine with the life it once belonged in the moonlight. From the darkest corner of the room, a low, ominous growling echoes off the walls. I turn my head slowly to its direction.
That is always where I awaken.
Lately, everything appears different to me than it has in the past. There is something unfamiliar about my home, the peach tree in the garden, the Temple and Sir Korthos’s tower. Every familiar place I visit has a new taint to it, and I cannot figure out its source.
I am at least comforted with the knowledge that I left it near the window where we used to dance.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:25:54 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jun 29, 2008, 12:11pm
The Aratar--when I was asked to join it was during a battle. I was protecting Ismene of my own volition. Even then she was a vital part of the kingdom, and even if she was not, I still would not have wanted her harmed.
I was never completely certain why I was asked to join. The others in the Aratar are more like the knights of legend than I would ever be, or perhaps even more men and women of faith than I have ever known in my life.
There is one thing I will always be, always deep in my heart, and that is a hunter. I am by no means a knight. I use my surroundings to my advantage in ways they do not. I'm a sneak, a gatherer of information, a woman who chooses to distance herself from others, to wear a mask so she might never be completely known. We are all hunters, and we are all prey.
Edgar told me about what happened while I was captured. He is a wanted man now for attempting to murder the king. I know why he did it. I cannot say I agree with his actions, but he has always acted before thinking in most cases. His intent was not one of malice, but one of protection. I do not know what will come of him.
Korthos told me of the Aratar meeting. The king thinks we are weak if we cannot keep ourselves protected. I do not understand this. We have always given ourselves to protecting the others of the kingdom. We have lined up like good little boys and girls and done what we were told. We would all give our lives to protect them. The threat of disbanding the Aratar looms. Then let the Legion be the personal guards as well. I just hope the king remembers who put Edgar in his cell because it was in the cell, I was told, that Edgar pulled his weapon.
If there is one thing I have learned at all, it is that we all have a monster lurking within our depths. Scy showed his, gave into it. There was a time when he was kind and gentle as well as a true leader to us. Then he gave in, and with his choice to do so, allowed it so his blood was on my hands. Even the blood of one who betrays his people on your hands is difficult to bear. It is something I must live with until my final breath.
This situation is similar to the one in my past--the beginnings of it all. Whether I am a member of the Aratar or not, I am still Sarain and all that encompasses me.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:26:28 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jun 29, 2008, 1:30pm
I spoke with Devlin. There was a matter I needed more answers on, and the truth of it was an ugly one.
Edgar had mentioned that the king had done nothing to find us. Both he and his brother told me that the man Octavius was the one to relay information about the Yew crypts. That is all, I am certain, that he did.
It was Edgar and Devlin who had searched for us. Apparently the king did not inform the queen either. I suppose we matter little when it comes to events. He went to both a wedding and a party. I do not know whose wedding as of yet, but I know the party was one in Istas.
I had no reason to doubt what Edgar said, but I found it necessary to hear it from Devlin as well. I warned him that if the Legion takes the place of the Aratar, they would be subject to the same. As I once told someone, I am a guard, and I am expendable.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:26:58 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jul 11, 2008, 10:31am
The costume I have chosen for the kingdom’s Anniversary fits perfectly. I could not be more pleased with the tailoring of it, and I can only imagine the possible reactions the others will have to it no matter how minuscule.
I have yet to pick up the instrument I have bought, and I have not spoken with Korthos in a while. Perhaps I should see to him and make sure things are fine.
Each day brings a different sort of responsibility, and even leaving the Aratar has brought some of its own. I will do what I can to ensure those responsibilities are handled whether or not they are handled the way others may have intended.
The “ignominious” Edgar Rowley is still on the run. Why is it that he is not yet captured?
Though I know it was all real, the events I went through with Scy seem like a distant dream. Sometimes it even haunts me in my sleep as it should. Each day makes it seem less real, and yet I remember each word spoken and every pain I felt.
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Zombie
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:27:34 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jul 13, 2008, 12:17pm
It is safe to say that I am without direction. Octavius asked me a question, and I gave him my answer. However, I have not heard from him since. The most I can do is what I have always done until I hear from him again.
The Royal Council was slain in Britain. I spoke with the man handling the investigation, and I even saw the room. There was blood everywhere. It was the blood of change. It is difficult to feel remorse for those you do not know. A pang of sadness may reach your heart, but you do not mourn them. Once that initial pang was over, I set off to listen to the conversations of those who were investigating.
It seems two women of the council went into hiding after hearing of the possible threat. They were women by the names of Aileen and Sherry. A note had been found with their message on one of the bodies.
There are some other details I have learned, but after being there a few hours, I found that the investigation had reached a halt in information. I might return soon to see if any new leads have been found. There were other names mentioned, and they may or may not have their part in this crime.
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Zombie
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Posts: 66
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:28:03 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jul 14, 2008, 4:33am
Edgar Rowley has turned himself in to the Kingdom. I have spoken with his brother and Ismene about appealing to have a trial. I do not know if either will speak with the king on this matter. At the least, I did mention it to them.
I still have not heard from Octavius. Perhaps I have been forgotten. Ismene said that we are all equals in this kingdom, and I have only further realized what I have known all along. We are not equals. True, no one is equal to the king or queen, but the rest of us are not equal to each other. I find it easy for myself to be dismissed after one sentence like any other citizen without an authoritative role.
Indeed I chose this over remaining in the Aratar. I only wonder what fantastical dream in which our queen lives. She is indeed a kind woman, but at times I wonder if she is not blinded by her loyalty to her husband and the ruler of the kingdom. It is possible that little can be done.
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Zombie
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Posts: 66
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:28:39 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jul 19, 2008, 12:32am
I lay in the darkness. Everything around me feels soft like silk. I feel my clothes slide off me by hands I cannot see until I am completely naked. Cold fingers trace down my left side and I feel my skin come apart, snapping like string.
Blood rushes forth and the hand plunges into the opening. I can feel each movement it makes inside of me. It moves around my innards and reaches to grab hold of my heart. When the fingers grip my heart, I feel ice in my veins. I can hear the unsteady sound of my breathing until it slowly begins to fade.
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Zombie
Junior Member
Posts: 66
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Post by Zombie on Aug 27, 2011 18:29:10 GMT -8
Post by Sarain on Jul 24, 2008, 10:03am
I was walking through the snow—struggling against the wind. Snowflakes hit my face in brutal attacks, and I had to close my eyes and move forward, unseeing at some times. My hand was over the wound at my side. Blood seeped between my fingers and landed brightly onto the white ground.
If there were buildings or trees, I could not see far enough to see them. Each step I took became more difficult, but I only knew that I had to keep walking. Behind me I could hear a low growl. It sounded somewhat like a wolf. The sound echoed loudly in my ears.
I knew that as I walked the predator was patiently waiting for the prey to drop. My knees wobbled, and I knew that time would come. It was not but a couple of struggling steps later that I felt my knees give way beneath me. Before I hit the ground, I felt strong hands grip my arms, fingernails digging into my flesh.
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