Meditation?

I’m… I… things-

There are a few attempts at writing, which are heavily scratched out, before something coherent begins.

I’m s’posed to take up… meditating now, as part’ve a type’ve trainin’. I guess that writing what I think or feel wouldn’t hurt that any. Help me… help me get some’ve what’s maybe buzzin’ in my head too loud down unto paper, down in a book where I can shut it when I’m done.

I don’t want to sound like things are worse than ‘fore, ’cause they really ain’t. I think I’m gonna get better, be strong, less runnin’ and more holdin’ ground. Least, that’s what I’m hopin’ for.

Verrin and me’ve decided to become brother’n sister, after a fashion. We understand each other, and we’ve both caused each other a world’ve hurt–maybe it’d be better to cut our losses and not have nothin’ to do with each other any more, but this’d just be one more thing I’d be runnin’ from. Sides, it’s my responsibility to stand with him where I can, after I… after I tore down everything else he had. I can’t abandon him and save myself.

The Silverlord’s taken up trainin’ me, and that’s also part’ve why I’m s’posed to be meditatin’ or whatnot. Want’s to teach me not to run, or somethin’–which is an awful nice thought, but I don’t think there’s no trainin’ you can offer that teaches a person that. They just gotta learn by example, and I figure maybe that’ll work out.  The personal attention by a superior any somethin’ I’m much used to, but the lessons are valuable ’nuff. It’s more responsibility, though, ‘nother person directly lookin’ over me and seein’ that I do go and mess things up.

Few nights ago, at the meetin’, I was promoted to Guardian. The first time I was offered promotion was a while back, when… when I’d first got a glimpse’ve a memory, got a glance at the vicious thing that lives under my skin somewhere. Was also when I’d turned Zaliron away, and felt like everythin’ was too close and that I didn’t have the distance to uphold that new rank. Now… now I’m gonna try, rather than runnin’. I wasn’t definitely ready then, and maybe I ain’t really ready now, but I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

This is… this is important ’cause’ve what else it meant. I…

I can’t be strong, can’t stop runnin’ if I’ve always got someone to run to. Someone that… that maybe I unfairly built my hopes ’round as bein’ not part’ve the rest’ve my life. And that ain’t fair. It ain’t fair to maybe attach your romantic feelin’s to someone on the grounds that you’re hopin’ you never got to worry ’bout it interferin’ with your ‘real’ life, your life’ve duty.

I think I regret that more’n anything, what I did to Kaste. If I had only… if I had only stopped and thought ’bout it, just taken a damn second to think- I could’ve stopped it from becomin’ what it did. ‘Course, I was convinced that I didn’t have the time, didn’t have the right frame’ve mind, that it wouldn’t have mattered. I wanted a gods-damned place to hide once the Verrin stuff was all taken care’ve, and it wasn’t till afterwards that I realized that that… it ain’t right to love someone just for what they represent, not what they are. I… I know I love Kaste right as a friend, that that’s for who he is, but my romantic feelings were too hung ’round escapism. Was the same gods-damned way with Zaliron, and that ain’t right.

Gonna try to learn from my mistakes though. Ain’t gettin’ romanticly involved with no one no time soon, far as I’m concerned.

Wasn’t it easier?

Talked with the Silverlord and Verrin last night.

I…

Everythin’ I touch bleeds and falls to pieces in my hands.

I’m so scared. I don’t want to be scared. It used to be… it used to be easier, didn’t it? Even when the world was darker, even ‘fore Silvermoon was rebuilt? Wasn’t it easier then? I came and went where I wanted, and I was helpin’ people. Right?

The Silverlord knows there’s someone else I’m taken with. All I can be grateful for is that he didn’t go ’bout asking who it was. I can’t… I don’t want to be…

He’s my leader. I don’t want him to feel tripped up and like he ain’t ’nuff ’cause’ve one stupid Rogue girl who tends to know the sharp side’ve her swords better’n her own feelings. When he finds out it’s Kaste…

Verrin thinks we should think’ve each other as brother’n sister. That if I can give him my love that way, that he’ll take it. That maybe it’ll help us be close without completely destroyin’ each other. I’m tired of hurtin’ each other. He’s probably right.

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.

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’.

Events are cowards. Can’t ever fight alone.

Mazikeen sits in the corner of a small inn room, exhausted and slumped in her chair. The journal is open on her lap, and it seems to take a great force of will for her to move the quill tip across the pages. A little further off a figure sleeps fitfully on the bed, tossing and mumbling.

It started a few nights ago. Alkaiser said he wanted to speak with Zaliron, and I s’pose I just figured it’d be a few harsh words. Guilt ain’t anything new to me, but I should’ve done something. My luck though, interfering then would’ve just made the situation worse.

He didn’t show up at his house that night, and I guess I didn’t think much of it. I know what it’s like to have business that runs over-long. The next day I found a note in my mail from Verrin, the new mage, askin’ me to meet him. It was as vague as that, and curiosity ain’t something that can be easily denied.

He wants me to teach him how to fight dirty. I don’t know what to make of him, only that something ’bout him makes me feel uncomfortable–not because he don’t understand what I am, but because he does. I… well, to make short of it, ’cause it ain’t my primary concern right now, I said yes.

A voice rose from the corner–murmuring something incoherent about demons and fear. Mazikeen roughly brushed a tear from the corner of her eyes, which fell and smudged the ink on the paper.

I can’t believe what they did to him. It ain’t right, you can’t… Gods. I talked to Alkaiser even, and I’ve never imagined myself as someone to do anything like the sort (I might not be the most ardent follower, but I try to keep my peace, ’specially under leaders).

A leader doesn’t break someone that pledges their life to him–or allow a second-in-command like Arathael to do it. It’s… it’s pathetic and wrong and the worst kind’ve betrayal. And I know what it looks like–I go to Alkaiser and he assumes that it’s just ’cause me and Zaliron take our nights together. I ain’t stupid. I know that Zaliron is arrogant, and I know it’s gotta be fixed.

But they didn’t do that. He’s… he can’t even go near demons. He’s been staying in an inn.

Damn them both.

Damn myself for not being more forceful when I talked to Alkaiser. I shouldn’t've settled for what he thought were rational words. He made a mistake. Nobody ever deserves to be hurt like that by someone they’re s’posed to trust. My faith in the leadership of the Guard suffered s’first blow, and I guess for that it stings even more.

I got Zaliron to come out here to Farstrider Retreat, away from Silvermoon. Fetched a few pillows and robes for him, tryin’ to help him get comfortable. Looked like something had ripped through the house, and his demons weren’t happy that I didn’t leave ‘em with any answers. I ain’t much’ve one for conversing with demons, and the only thing I could tell ‘em was to wait some more. And at least get the damned door back on its hinges.

I want to protect Zaliron, and I want to see him better, but I’m sore over some of Alkaiser’s words. He told me that I was a good influence on Zaliron, and I wanted to spit something hard and mean back in his face, but I was too busy cowering and being ’sensible’. I wish people weren’t so damned sure that I’m a good person–well, I mean, it ain’t my job to fix anyone. I don’t want that responsibility. I can’t bear that responisibility.

‘Sides, why in the Nether should it be MY job, or ANYone’s job, to fix the messes of our humble, righteous leaders?

And now? Now I’m angry. All I can do is sit and seethe while the rest’ve the Guard take their digs at Zaliron, and if I speak he looks weaker, or I look over-protective.

Part of me doesn’t care. Part of me wants to say to the Nether with ‘em all, and the next one with a snide comment about Zaliron will get their tongue skewered to the roof of their mouth.

I want to see him strong again.

I will see him strong again. The rest’ve ‘em can choke on dynamite. I’d even be so kind as to light the fuse.

Mazikeen sighs, the momentary rush of anger fading and leaving her with less energy than before. She closes the journal, tosses it back into a bag near her feet. Looking around, it is still very dark inside of the room, save for a few small candles near the bed (she didn’t want Zaliron to wake up in darkness in the middle of the night)–it won’t be morning for a few more hours.

And, from her seat, she knows they will be long hours. Thinking hours. She leans her head back to the wall behind the chair, and watches over the troubled Warlock.

She does not sleep.