The Nature of Hypocrisy

Just got finishd talkin’ with Chrysalis. She… killed Verrin. I had her word that she wouldn’t, but by accident, she did. I was furious for ’bout a second: “How can you accidently kill someone-”, I had been startin’ to rage, but…

Heh.

At the last meetin’ I spoke up for opening the Guards doors to every race of the Horde–for wantin’ people to qualify on what they’d done with the life given to ‘em, not what they were born as. I mean, either way it won’t bother me too much, though I do think that if we open past Sin’dorei, we need to be openin’ to everyone. S’only acceptable.

Ysabelle… well, I think she thinks that I only feel the way I do ’cause’ve Kaste, and that ain’t the reason. The Silverlord said somethin’ similar. Is that what it seems like, then? That I’m under a spell’ve Kaste’s, or somethin’? That we’re in love? Ugh.

We did… go on a date, though. Not a romantic date. A friendly date… with the objective of killin’ a certain Forsaken that had mind-controlled Kaste and sicced him on me like an attack dog. I…

I killed Kaste. It was a stupid accident.

I told Chrysalis that tonight. She’s the first one outside’ve Kaste that knows. She thought I’d condemn her for killin’ Verrin, and all I wanted to let her know that that I had no place judgin’ her. I killed a man I love. She killed Verrin. She broke an oath. I nearly broke myself. She could bring him back. I… I was left stunned, dazed… couldn’t call him back from the Nether on my own.

S’funny, how you think you’ll be upset to hear somethin’, until you realize that you’ve been in a similar spot.

So, I guess it is true. I do love Kaste. He sent me a letter, a while back, sayin’ the same–that he loves me. None’ve this is in the romantic way, though, ‘course. But I’d die for him. I’d die rather than hurt him. I want to see him happy. Bein’ with him makes me feel happy, like I can forget ’bout all’ve the weight that just bein’ in the Guard puts on my shoulders. He doesn’t expect nothin’ of me.

I love him like a brother, I s’pose. I mean, ‘course, I’ve never had any siblings. But like a brother… just a much taller, bluer one. One more time for the record, we ain’t together.

Verrin told me that he still loved me. Even after takin’ time and thinking ’bout he, he said that even knowin’ my darker side, that he loved me all the more. He’s offerin’ me unconditional acceptance, and I guess there’s a part’ve me that wants to run headlong into that and hide there. He asked me if I thought I could ever love him the same.

I… well, I don’t know. I make a point’ve not thinkin’ when I probably should. What I do know, is that right now I don’t want to fall for anyone. I know I’ve tended to talk big ’bout falling in love–that if it happened, it happened, if it didn’t, it didn’t–but now I just wanna avoid it. It’s too messy.

Mountainsides and Explosives

I destroyed his home, the place where he spent a thousand years becomin’ what he is. I blew it up–gods know I made ’nuff dynamite. There were pictures all over the walls, both terrifyin’ ones and sweet ones, a thousand some years of work. Of art? Growing, something. Gods.

And I buried it all in mountainside, blew out the damned supports.

Will he be free now? Will I be free? Will it change anything?

‘Course, for me, it already has–I’ve forgiven him. Least, for what he did to me, the betrayin’, whatever. It’s hard knowin’ that you’ve got someone who’ll accept you, no matter what. I’ve got this wantin’ to push that, to see where the limits are, and I don’t like myself no more for it.

But I guess I have pushed. Just that the consequences will be delayed.

A thousand years of history. It’s hard to wrap my head ’round. It’s the same feelin’ like… like yesterday, when Kaste said something ’bout how that even when he’s an old man, I’ll still be young. It’s an ugly thought, the power of time. Kaste joked ’bout it easy ’nuff, but it’s somethin’ I know’ll keep me up some nights.

Any friends I make outside’ve my own kind, outside’ve elves–save maybe the Forsaken, but who even knows ’bout that, could be undeath has a limit too–in a few turns of the wheel, they’ll be gone. And I’ll still be here.

I’m so young; so pathetically young. I haven’t even had to think ’bout this ‘fore, and now I know I’ll be thinking ’bout it every time I laugh with someone that ain’t one’ve my own.  The Guard will persist, but how long do I really got ‘fore I have to watch things decay ’round me?

Maybe it ain’t the right way to look at it. After all, what’s a number in a book? Ain’t it obvious that anyone that throws herself into battle so readily and willingly probably don’t gotta worry ’bout too long’ve a life expectancy?

 Guess it don’t make the thought any easier to deal with.

Where Two Ain’t Two

Verrin spoke with me last night. He wants me to tell him, in honesty, that I’ll never love him. How can I know that? How can he ask me that? What gives him the right to ask anythin’ he asks me?! I keep my life neat and ordered ’nuff ‘fore all’ve this, and now I can’t even look into my head without gettin’ lost or feeling vertigo dizzyness, like down is up and two steps ain’t always two steps, sometimes its five or three or one or I ain’t movin’ at all–

And then there’re nightmares. The only way to keep ‘em away is to fall ’sleep so exhausted that nothing can move inside my head, though that don’t even work some nights.

Chrysalis is ‘pparently gonna try to ‘help’ Verrin, and when I found out that she might intend to kill him, I was… angry. If anyone gets to kill him, it’s me, and that ain’t even an option that I’ve given myself after… after the day on the beach. He betrayed me, not the rest of them, not anyone else. His blood’ll be on my hands, if that’s what it comes to–though I’ll work for every inch’ve me ‘gainst that too. I trust Chrysalis though. She told me she wouldn’t kill him.

The Silverlord wanted to speak with me, and though I tried to avoid him, he eventually came down to where Chrysalis and me were in Silvermoon ‘gainst my assurance that I’d be fine, and that he didn’t need to get his hands dirty with anymore’ve it than he’d already be expected to with the ‘trial’ comin’ up. He was understandin’, even when I told him that I would’ve killed Verrin when I found out.

And we talked a little earlier, and the Silverlord… made some confusin’ remarks. I think I’d be angry if I wasn’t still more shocked than not. Angry ’cause for some damned reason it’s gotta be when a girl’s fallin’ apart that she gets so much attention. S’when you’re feelin’ vulnerable and broken that everyone wants to dig their claws into you. Maybe people wanna feel like heroes or saviors, and maybe they can smell vulnerability like sharks can smell blood in open water. I just want to be left in peace to lick my own damn wounds.

Kaste kissed me… more than once in the past few days. The first time ’cause he wanted to make the point that we both don’t feel nothin’ for each other, least not romantically. ‘Course we don’t–but I could’ve practically coughed up my own beatin’ heart when he surprised me with it. And then he had me help him with some other damn version of an ‘anti-love potion’, which backfired (thankfully not to the same scale, ’cause I was prepared for it). I knocked him out, and he seemed to come out’ve it well ’nuff; he’s tellin’ me that his friends… or the people he talks to, don’t know if they’re necessarily his friends, keep tellin’ him that we should be together.

‘Cause clearly, two people can’t enjoy each other’s company less they’re really only lookin’ to knock boots–even moreso ’cause he’s a troll and I’m an elf, and certainly there’s even less room for friendship there, right? I ain’t sayin’ I’m a mysterious woman, or that I’m hard to figure out, but I’m tired of people speakin’ on my behalf. Don’t matter if it’s Verrin (who’s master, Kiros, ‘pparently thought he could make a slave out’ve me) or Kaste. If I don’t know what’s goin’ on in my own damn skull, how in the Nether do other people seem to think they do? Even if they’ve got the best intentions (not that they all do), can’t I just get left ‘lone?

Verrin says he’ll try to stop askin’ me questions, and I don’t know if that’s really gonna help or not. It’s what I want, but what if be givin’ myself time to cool down and let things settle in my head, I just mess things up worse? What if it’s like a mess’ve broken bones, that if they ain’t set right to begin with, grow funny and crippled till you gotta break ‘em all over? I get upset and tell him that he’s got to grow from his pain, while I hide from analyzin’ anything inside myself. Hypocrisy ain’t my aim, but I’ll be damned if it ain’t the path I’m walkin’.

What doesn’t kill you…

Roughly three pages are completely filled with what seems to be the same phrase, over and over again. The letters are disjointed, and standard punctuation and spacing appears to be used very infrequently. In one of the more legible cases, the phrase reads as: ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Eventually, more coherent writing emerges.

Or maybe that’s just what people gotta tell themselves, so they can feel like they’re movin’ forward ’stead of in circles all the time. I don’t feel stronger. I just feel kind’ve… broken.

I hate this, I hate all’ve this.

Trolls and demons.

Kaste and me’ve been talking recently, and I’m realizin’ that I like him a good deal. He seems like a solid ’nuff friend, doesn’t come ’round with mind games or manipulation. Maybe it’s just ’cause he ain’t an elf. Maybe I’m bitter. I’ll get on with that in a moment, s’pose.

Helped slap some bandages over his ribs, and he seemed almost shocked that I didn’t want no coin for it. S’funny, how people always seem to find it odd when a payment ain’t in silver or gold. A favor is worth more’n a sack of gold, least the way I see it.

Helped him and a few’ve the Guard with some’ve the Trolls in Zul’Furrak today. Got a little bloody towards the end, but otherwise went all right. I’m findin’ that I can joke ’round with Kaste, and that takes some’ve the sting and the shame off’ve the whole love potion mess.

Mostly I’m glad that I had somethin’ to do with my time, ’cause I’m not sure how well I could handle sitting ‘lone with my thoughts lately. ‘Course, find myself here doin’ just that now, heh.

Verrin…

Damn him. He told me he’s got feelings for me, and asked me to kill him–both in the same night. Hell, for him they weren’t even two different messages; one made him want the other. Told me… explained to me… how I couldn’t ever be like him, so I ain’t got anything to worry ’bout there. Because even if I’d maybe enjoy some dark things, I don’t indulge, and that’s what separates us. He seemed sure ’nuff, but to me it’s just ‘nother line drawn in imaginary sand.

He was right though. We know each other. Least, understand each other.

I don’t know why he thinks I’m any better’n any of the rest of the women in the Guard, but askin’ seems like it’s in such bad taste, and I don’t wanna put him through that. But there are women prettier, and smarter. More morally  upstanding, or morally ‘corrupt’. More righteous, if that’s what he’s lookin’ for. More deadly, too.

I hope he don’t think that I can ’save’ him. How can I? I’m not even as desperate or hopeless, but I still feel like even my own stupid problems are more than I can bear.

I should hate him, but I don’t. If I do, it’s because I never want to be like him–much as he tells me I don’t need to worry ’bout that. He said he wants to be a part of my life. I want him to be a part of my life, though maybe held away at arm’s length. I want to see him get better. I want to see him get hold of whatever it is he’s really chasin’, and I want it to do him some good.

I feel so naive, so disgustingly pathetic.

But if Verrin can overcome his demons, then everyone can. Then I can. Then maybe the world’s got some order to it, instead of just slippin’ further and further outta control.

‘Course, the kicker is that part’ve me likes the beauty of chaos, of things fallin’ apart. Somethin’ a little too animal in me wants to laugh in Verrin’s face ’bout all of this. I’m not a good person, I want to say, teeth bared and grinning and already tastin’ blood and heat.

And he’d understand.

Damn him.

Simplicity sure don’t last long.