The Tanith Vursur Diaries, Vol. 4

[Urahra 5781]

The Tanith Vursur Diaries, Vol. 4

1789 IST. to 1830 IST.

 

Entry 100 –

1789

Spoiler

I woke up this morning to the sound of footsteps below me in the museum lobby. The noise drove me near to panic. Leaping out of bed, I pressed my ear to the door and strained to hear what might be going on outside. Were the thugs who beat me back to finish the job? I reached for my wand, ready to defend myself, when there came a sudden knock at my bedroom door. But then I heard a familiar voice coming through the wood.

“Tanith?! Tanith, are you in there?!”

I stowed my wand and pulled the door open as quickly as I could. There, out in the hall, stood Celestine - accompanied by Chirr, Zodd, and Lauritz Christiansen. Relief washed over Celestine’s features. “Thank God you’re alive!” she exclaimed, flinging her arms around my neck.

My cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. I realized I was still in my nightgown. “Celestine, please, I’m not dressed yet,” I mumbled, but she only hugged me tighter. My bruises twinged painfully. “Eh… gently… if you could…”

Celestine took a step back, holding me at arm’s length. “How did you manage to escape?” she asked, glancing me up and down. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. “I thought – well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. You’re alive!”

“Escaped?” I repeated, my brow furrowing. “I don’t… really know what you’re talking about…”

Celestine thumped herself on the forehead with the heel of her hand. “By GOD! I forgot! They wiped your memories!”

I blanched. “They – what?!” My gaze jumped between the faces of my friends, searching for answers. Zodd, Chirr, Lauritz, everyone - they all had the same expression. Dark eyes, heavy brows, frowning mouths. No one appeared to be joking. “They wiped my… what?!”

“Get dressed. Make sure you’re ready to travel,” Celestine said, letting her hands fall from my shoulders. “I’ll tell you everything upstairs once you’re packed. We’ll be waiting in the meeting room.”

With that, she and the others left me. At a loss for what else to do, I changed clothes and began gathering my things in a valise. I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing, so I packed sparingly. Once I was ready, I climbed the stairs up to the top floor. Celestine, Zodd, Chirr, and Lauritz sat around the meeting table talking quietly. As soon as I entered, all eyes were on me. Silence lay thick over the room.

“So you truly remember nothing of what happened?” Chirr asked me, breaking the uneasy quiet. Her eyes probed me for the truth. Shyly, I glanced away.

I sank into the single empty chair. “All I remember is waking up in a wheat field. My nose was broken, my glasses were gone… I had these bruises and rope burns around my wrists…”

Celestine laid her hands flat on the table. “Tanith…” she said, her voice low and sotto. “Your short-term memory was wiped.”

“You’ve said that twice now, Celestine,” I replied. “B-But I’m so confused. How is that possible? I don’t – “ My face twisted in a painful grimace. “I don’t remember anything about yesterday.”

“It was done through an alchemical potion,” Celestine explained. “Brewed by Ostromir Carrion at the behest of Padraig O’Rourke, the Minister of the Interior. And… by proxy, the Archchancellor.”

I gaped at her from across the table. “You’re – you’re telling me the government did this to me?”

Celestine took a deep, slow inhale and released the breath through her nose. “Apparently, you heard something that you really, really shouldn’t have,” she elaborated. “Ostromir Carrion and Padraig O’Rourke kidnapped you and took you to… a ‘black site’ of sorts. A secret place where they deal with their enemies. And there…” Celestine’s face scrunched. Her jaw clenched tightly. “They tortured you. And forced you to drink Ostromir’s memory potion for good measure.”

“H-How do you know all of this…?” I asked her.

“Napier told me,” Celestine replied. “You found him and informed him before they mind-wiped you. Ostromir even confessed to him.”

“Th-this is too monstrous to be real!” I cried out. “I thought – I thought it must have been bandits or… or even a hate crime. It can’t - It can’t be the work of the government! Can it?!”

“Tanith, we’ve come here to get you out of this shithole,” Celestine said, gazing at me steadily. “You’re coming back to Haense with us. We’re packing up everything in the museum and leaving today.”

“But what happened? What did I see? What did I hear that caused them to… to do this to me?”

I gestured to the nose cast on my face. “They beat me almost to death, Celestine…! What could I have possibly heard to warrant this?”

Celestine shook her head. “Napier couldn’t tell me. He said it would put me in danger if I knew,” she replied. “But… God, he looked afraid. Not just afraid, but angry. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him in my entire life.”

Across the table, Chirr sighed and folded her arms. “All this time, I thought Oren had changed. I guess some things never do.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” I exclaimed, covering my face with my hands.

“You’ll be safe in Haense, Tanith,” Celestine tried to reassure me. “Alexandria’s got you a room at the Ekaterinburg Palace. No assassins will be able to touch you there.”

“If anyone tries, I’ll rip their heads off,” Zodd grumbled.

“We need to move swiftly before they try to take violent action against Tanith again,” Celestine ordered. In times like this, her voice takes on this firm, authoritative tone. Truly, I can believe she’s descended from royalty. She’s a natural bone leader. “I want everyone working double time. We need to get the exhibits packed up and get out of here as fast as possible.”

A hard lump formed in my throat. I swallowed, but it wouldn’t go away. Cold sweat prickled on my skin and goosebumps crawled up my arms. Putting my hands down on the table, I pushed myself to my feet. “Let’s hurry,” I said. On that note, the group dispersed and began packing up the exhibits. With everyone’s help, we swiftly had our artifacts stowed away and ready for travel.

No-one stopped us as we made our way out of the city, but I could feel eyes boring into my back. Someone was watching us, I just know it. But the question was - who? Ostromir and Padraig certainly… but who else in Helena had been compromised?

We loaded the artifacts onto the tram. Celestine was afraid to take the road in case of bandits or government thugs. I’m happy to say we arrived safely in Haense and nothing was damaged in transit. Princess Alexandria met us at the Haensi tram station. She ordered her servants to carry our exhibits over to the flagship museum while the five of us proceeded to the Ekaterinburg Palace.

Alexandria showed me to a room situated high on the battlements. It’s near her greenhouse where she grows herbs for her botany studies. “I have a bed prepared for you in the loft,” she said as she unlocked the bedroom door and lead us inside. “Ah, and you might run into a grumpy Scyfling in the greenhouse. But he’s harmless.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “I’m just glad to be somewhere safe.”

Celestine, Chirr, Zodd, and Lauritz helped me unpack my things and get settled in my new space. As I looked around the room, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude to know these people were my true friends. I nearly began to cry. Standing amongst them, I felt so protected and safe. The NGS isn’t a guild. It’s my family. Ever since I lost my parents as a child, I’ve been searching for that unwavering bond. I tried to turn the White Rose into my family, but I could never truly be a part of them due to my elven heritage. Here in the NGS, though, everyone is welcome. No one is required to change parts of themselves, deny parts of themselves, or cut off parts of themselves. We are who we are… and we love each other for our uniqueness.

God has answered every one of my prayers.

When I asked for love, He sent me Icroth. When I asked for a family, He sent me the NGS.

“What of Icroth?” Chirr posited as we finished putting my things away. The five of us idled around the room - some standing, some sitting. Chirr stood sentry near the door with her arms folded, the picture of a bodyguard. “Has he been told about any of this?”

“He’s out in the Wildlands near Farrador, I think,” I replied from the little table in the corner. “He’s far away… and safe. But I need to write him a letter and tell him everything that’s happened.”

“Allow me,” Celestine interjected from the desk chair across from me. “You’re still suffering from memory loss. I might be able to explain it to him better.”

“That’s a good point,” I said. “Thank you.”

“As long as you’re here, Tanith,” Celestine warned me, “you have to be careful. When you leave the city, you should have a trustworthy escort. Stay in well-lit, public areas with lots of people and don’t go into anyone’s house alone. There could still be assassins lurking about, even here in Haense.”

“I can hardly believe any of this is happening,” I uttered, putting a hand to my head. The whole situation left me reeling. The gears in my head churned as I tried to make sense of it.

Celestine wavered. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Just the other day, I had such sympathy for Oren,” she said quietly. “Tanith, you’ve heard me say it a dozen times, but I truly thought of myself as a child of two worlds. Helena was my home too. But now… by God, they publicly humiliated Ted and they nearly killed you. I won’t be returning to Oren anytime soon. And neither should any of us.”

“I suppose we’ll be closing down the Helena Branch of the museum,” I sighed.

“For now, yes. I’m afraid so. I can’t abide by the way our people have been treated.”

Alexandria, who had been fairly quiet up until this point, spoke up at last. “Was… Mr. Napier successful in meeting with the Empress?”

I perked up. “He’s meeting with the Empress?”

“That’s his plan,” Celestine replied.

Lauritz wrinkled his nose. “Why’s he trying to meet with Anne?”

“He… believes that she’s not involved in any of this. He wants to inform her.” Celestine glanced away, her mouth flattening into a frown. “Edward’s taken his life into his own hands,” she said. “He’s determined to meet with the Empress and expose this whole thing. Personally, I think it’s a death sentence. Tanith… he might ask for your help. I want you to know that you don’t have to do it. Your safety is what’s most important here. You’re secure here in Haense, within these walls, but… should you return to Helena… I can’t guarantee what will happen.”

My head spun with the new information heaped on me. “…Is it that serious?” I asked, looking around me in the room. “Is Edward really going straight to the Empress? It seems so far fetched. I’ve lived in Helena for well over a decade now and… and nothing like this ever happened to me. And I can’t – I can’t even remember any of it! How do we know this is even real…?”

Celestine turned to Alexandria. “Tell her what your men overheard in the tavern, Alexandria.”

My eyes darted across to the Barbanov Princess.

Alexandria looked askance and toyed with a strand of her hair. “Ostromir admitted to wiping your mind with a potion, Miss Tanith. With what Edward told us, it adds up to a coherent narrative. There’s no conjecture here.”

“Straight from the horse’s mouth…” I breathed. “There’s no denying it, then.”

“More like donkey’s ass if you ask me,” Zodd quipped - and I have to admit it made me laugh.

The hour had begun to grow late by then, though, and the five of us decided to break. Celestine and Alexandria remained for a while to make sure I was comfortable, bless them both. Alexandria gave me a set of keys so I could wander freely throughout the palace. Truth be told, though, I was in no mood to look around.

After they left, I simply flung myself on the bed and went straight to sleep.

I’m writing this in the morning, having gotten a full night’s rest for the first time in two days. In this little tower, I feel separated from the world, but protected by my wonderful and loving friends. I can’t describe how grateful I am for them. At the same time, though, I mustn’t allow myself to grow complacent. This situation isn’t over yet… and I doubt it will be over for a long time.

I have so many letters to write. I need to write to James and inform him that we’ve vacated the museum. I need to send a letter to my husband and catch him up on what’s happened. Celestine’s planning to write too, but Icroth deserves to hear from both of us.

And there’s also Edward.

Edward heard and saw everything. If anyone can help fill in my memories, it’s him. I need to know exactly what happened - and Edward is the only person who can reveal the truth.

But… he might ask me to meet the Empress with him. If what I’ve heard so far is true, this conspiracy goes all the way to the top. Even the Archchancellor is involved. If that’s the case, who’s to say the Empress isn’t compromised too? If we go back to Helena, are we walking straight into our deaths?

What’s more important? Keeping ourselves safe? Or exposing the evil festering just under Helena’s surface?

 

Entry 101 –

1789

Spoiler

A few hours ago, I sat down at a table with the Empress of Oren… and I told her everything.

I don’t know if she believed us. I don’t know if she took it seriously. I don’t know if anything will change because of what I did, but… if nothing else, I stood up for what’s right. The only thing left now is to wait and see what unfolds.

The last few days have felt like a nightmarish whirlwind. Things happening so fast, it’s hard to keep track of them. All I can do is write everything down and try to remember as much as I possibly can. Someday, someone is going to read this diary and they need to know the truth.

Earlier today, I wrote a letter to Edward Napier and had it delivered via courier. I’m worried I’ll never fully recover my memory of what happened that night. Lucky for me, I’ve got my friends. According to Celestine, I relayed everything to Edward. If anyone can help me put my memories back together, it’s him. I invited him to the Ekaterinburg so we could sit down and talk. Haense is probably one of the few places we can speak freely about this whole incident. Helena’s full of untrustworthy eyes and ears. Edward sent a letter back in reply and said he’d take the tram.

I climbed the dozen or so flights of stairs down to the ground floor of the palace. Standing there on the gate threshold, though, I hesitated. I’d been living at the Ekaterinburg for a few days now - and I hadn’t left the palace grounds for a single moment. A part of me feared that, the second I stepped through that gate, I’d be dragged off by assassins and murdered. Irrational, yes, but I couldn’t help it. For the last several nights, dark figures have stalked me through my dreams. Flashes of violence play across my mind’s eye. I can’t tell if they’re memories or inventions of my imagination, but they feel so real.

Regardless, I had to push through. I steeled my nerve and took my first step off the palace grounds. With confidence in my footsteps, I walked through Reza’s streets toward the tram station.

When I saw Edward approaching me, my heart leapt with joy and relief. I rushed to hug him. “Edward!” I shouted out, throwing my arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you’re alright!”

He grinned, but that smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “I wish I could say the same for you, Tanith,” he said. “Your poor nose.”

I smiled and tossed my hair. “It’ll heal up. I just hope it won’t be crooked,” I replied. “Come, I think there’s… a lot we need to talk about. Celestine filled me in on several things, but you’re the one with the most information.”

Taking Edward by the hand, I lead him back to the Ekaterinburg Palace. We trekked up the winding maze of steps and corridors toward my room. Under normal circumstances, I might be annoyed by so many stairs, but - in this case - I’m glad for them. Any assassin who tries to find my bedroom would probably get hopelessly lost. I unlocked the door and lead Edward inside. “This is where I’m staying for the time being.”

Edward looked around. My room in the Ekaterinburg is truly fit for a princess. A softly-glowing fire crackles in the hearth. Cool cross-breezes filter through the windows. Lush plant life fills the room. Princess Alexandria said that this room used to be one of her old hideaways, so it makes sense that she filled it with flora. “Truly an oasis,” he concluded before taking a seat at the little table. “Very charming… if not a little tiring to get to.”

I giggled. Sometimes I forget how old my human friends are. I felt a little bad for forcing Edward to climb all those stairs at his age. “Ehehe. Well, we can rest assured that we’re safe from prying ears or eyes up here.”

Edward chuckled. “True, true.” He tapped his fingers against the wood. “So, what did Celestine tell you?”

I picked at my fingernails. It’s a bad habit. One of these days, I’ll pick them down to nothing but nubs. Even so, when I’m nervous, it helps me calm and organize my thoughts. “This is… more or less what I’ve put together,” I began. “From both my own memories and what Celestine’s told me. Last Saint’s Day, I contacted Ostromir Carrion in regards to my ears. Getting them fixed and restored to their natural condition.”

Edward nodded along. “Correct.” He gave a roll of his wrist, gesturing for me to continue.

“Something… happened between Ostromir and me,” I went on. “I don’t remember what. I must have run away from him because somewhere in the mix, I found you and informed you of everything that happened.”

“I was taking a walk in the palace garden when I saw you in his office,” Edward explained. “He’s got these big windows. There you were, the center of the frame, plain as day. You looked angry. I can’t tell you what was being said. I couldn’t hear it. But I saw you storm out - and we ran into each other outside moments later. As I recall, a servant girl was there too.”

“Where did we go from there?” I asked him.

“We headed to the tavern. You sat down and told me everything. How abominably he treated you,” Edward said. “It concerned me so deeply, I wrote a letter to both the Archchancellor and the Empress about it.”

“But – what did Ostromir say to me?” I probed. “I don’t remember!”

Edward pressed his lips together and looked away. “I would tell you if I could, but…” He sighed. “Tanith, it’s better for your safety if you don’t know. But… in summation, Ostromir asked you to do something you found immoral. And you refused him, as you ought. Other that that, it’d be unwise to say more.”

“After we met in the tavern, Padraig O’Rourke - the Minister of the Interior - kidnapped me. That’s what Celestine said,” I added.

“He approached us in the tavern and asked you to step away with him. I…” Edward grimaced. He swallowed a sigh. “Indeed. I’ll reserve comment. Go on, Tanith. What else did Celestine tell you?”

“They took me to a place that she called a ‘black site’,” I said. “Where they broke my nose and tortured me.”

“It was almost assuredly the Orlov House,” Edward elaborated. “Padraig took me there not four days prior for a private chat. It seems to be where he conducts a majority of his more shady business.”

“Orlov… that’s…” My eyes widened with dawning horror and realization. “That’s the mayor’s house. The mayor of Helena.”

“Yes,” Edward replied, squeezing his lids shut.

“How many people are involved in this, Edward?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Evidence suggests it might even include the Archchancellor. The corruption in Oren runs deep, Tanith. Deeper than I ever expected it.”

“After they tortured me, Ostromir fed me some sort of memory-erasing potion and then dumped me in a field,” I finished my story. “Princess Alexandria said he confessed it to you out loud in a tavern.”

“He did,” Edward confirmed. “The fool. After you woke up, you stumbled about until you were found by Nurse Florenza. I have your medical in-patient records, signed off by Dr. Morgryn himself. It confirms your broken nose and your other injuries as legitimate.”

A heavy silence lay over the room, punctuated only by the pop and snap of the hearth. The horrible implications of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders. It wasn’t just a gang of thugs who assaulted me. It was the Minister of the Interior. It was the Mayor of Helena. It was the Governor of the Novellen. They were all in it together… and they all conspired to hurt me. More than anything, I wanted to know why.

Ostromir asked me to do something immoral and I refused. But what? Why would he put such a request to me? None of it made any sense.

“Tanith…” Edward reached across the table and took my hand in his. “I’m so sorry.”

My eyes flickered up to meet his. “Why?”

“I told you to trust Padraig,” he said, squeezing my hand tightly. “I sent you into that mess. When Padraig approached our table, I… thought nothing of it, even though I’ve had my suspicions about him. He was my kinsman. A fellow Harrenite. Of course, he wouldn’t hurt you. But then… he handed you off to Ostromir, understanding full well what that monster would do to you.”

“Edward, you mustn’t blame yourself,” I reassured him. “They’re pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes.”

“We’re going to make this right, Tanith,” Edward told me. He had a look on his face that I’d never seen before. When I think of Edward Napier, I imagine him as a gentle person. Harmless. Perhaps a little silly. But this Edward was different. This Edward was on a mission - and when he said those things, I believed him.

Our moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. I got up and peered through the peephole. Outside stood a courier in Haensi colors. I unlocked the door and let him inside. “Message for you, sir,” he said, handing a letter off to Edward. “From the Novellen.”

I peered over Edward’s shoulder and saw the letter marked with an Imperial seal. “What is that?” I asked him.

Edward broke the wax with his thumb and smoothly unfolded the missive. “We’re hereby invited to the Novellen Palace to meet with Her Imperial Majesty, Anne I,” he read out loud. Edward stood up, tucking the note in his breast pocket.

“Now?” I spluttered.

“Yes,” Edward replied. “Tanith, I need you there with me. It’s a risk, but if we can get Anne to understand, we have a chance to fix the problem.”

Celestine’s words from yesterday echoed in my head. She said that meeting with the Empress was a death sentence. If I returned to Helena, she couldn’t guarantee my safety. Enemies were lurking around every corner, waiting to strike and silence me for good. Two choices lay in front of me. I could stay in the Ekaterinburg and remain safe. Or… I could go to Helena. I could sit down in front of the Empress. I could tell my story… and maybe, just maybe, make a change for the better.

“I’m going with you,” I said.

“Leave a note for Alexandria and Celestine,” he said. “If we don’t return, I want them to know exactly where we went and what happened to us. Tell them we plan to go straight there and head straight back. And if we don’t return post-haste, well…”

I did as he said and quickly scribbled out a note, which I left on the writing desk in my room. With that, the two of us hastened down the stairs and toward the palace gate.

Of course, who should we meet along the way but Celestine? There she was, standing in the Ekaterinburg courtyard. As it turns out, she had come to the palace to check on me. When she saw Edward and me emerge together, her face paled.

“You two…” she muttered, standing in between us and the courtyard gate. “You’re heading to Helena, aren’t you?”

“There’s no time to waste, Cellie,” Edward asserted. “The Empress is waiting for us.”

“Are you an idiot, Ted?” Celestine barked, color rising once more into her cheeks. “You could get arrested just by setting foot in that city! Don’t you see this is an ambush?”

“But what if it’s not?” I retaliated. “Celestine, we have to try. We can’t keep this a secret forever. Who knows how many more people they might hurt in the meantime? If there’s a chance we could change things for the better – we have to take it!”

My words seemed to disarm her. Celestine deflated and looked away. “Promise me you’ll stay safe,” she said softly, tears seeping out beneath her lids. “Trust your instincts and… if anything seems off… run. As fast as you can. If you don’t return, I’ll tell the whole world what happened to you two.”

I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “I’ll do my best,” I said. “If this goes pear-shaped, I want you to know that, in five hundred years of life, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

The tears filling up Celestine’s eyes spilled over and she hugged me tightly. I hugged her back, paying no mind to the painful twinge of my bruises. With that, we parted… and Edward and I took the tram over to Helena.

Together, we made our way into Helena. The Carmine Hand. The Jewel of Humanity. The Ruby City of a Thousand Fires. Those names all made the city sound so shining and glorious, but now I saw it for what it was. A festering den of corruption and vice. Eyes watched Edward and I as we made our way through the streets up to the palace. My heart beat patterns against my rib cage. We were either walking into salvation or into darkness - and I had no way of telling which one it was.

An ISA guard greeted us at the Novellen garden gate. He escorted us into the depths of the palace, to a quiet office area with a low-burning fireplace.

There, at a large table carved from a single massive piece of quartz, was Her Imperial Majesty Anne I.

I don’t think I’ve ever described Anne I. For a human, she measures quite tall and stately. Most of the time, she’s dressed in a smart burgundy jacket that’s well-tailored to her thin frame. I call her thin, but… she has an imposing energy in spite of her rather willowy stature. Strands of grey interlace her thick, auburn curls. She keeps her hair tied neatly back in a short ponytail - rather like a man. A pair of sharp, grey eyes peer out from deep-set sockets. Her sharp, high, narrow cheekbones angle down into a pointed chin. She’s pretty, but not conventionally so. Striking is the correct word. When she enters a room, all eyes are on her… and they’d be on her regardless of whether or not she was the Empress.

“Mr. Napier.” She acknowledged him with a slight incline of her head. “Ms. Tanith. Please, sit.”

The Empress knew my name. I don’t know why, but that fact amazed me. I’d only met her once before. Nerves overcame me as I moved to the seat next to Edward. Was I really sitting at a table with the Empress? Was she really here to listen to me? Even back when I served in the Chivay royal households, I never… sat down with them as an equal.

“Ah, I don’t think you two have been introduced properly,” Edward said, rising to his feet. “Your Majesty, this is Mrs. Tanith Vursur. Who, as you can see, was the victim of a profound physical attack on her person. The criminal parties involved were none other than Ostromir Carrion and Padraig O’Rourke, acting under the guise of a Government Minister.”

“So I see,” the Empress observed, studying the plaster cast on my face. I felt my face heat up under her steady gaze. “Please, Mrs. Vursur, if you would.”

Just like that, I found myself on the spot. “Uh – uhm…” I stuttered out, trying not to let my nerves falter my speech. “Y-You see… Your Imperial Majesty, I’d… I’d like to say before I begin… I genuinely don’t have much interest in politics. I don’t really want to ruin anybody or… even put anyone in jail. None of that benefits me. I’m only an elf. I’m nobody important. Before now… I didn’t have a stake in any of this.”

Edward grasped my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Tanith, this isn’t the old Empire. You’re not a ‘nobody’ anymore,” he reassured me. “You are a citizen who deserves better.”

“I… I don’t gain anything by being here or telling you this,” I continued. “All I want is to be honest and tell my truth.”

“Rest assured, Mrs. Vursur,” Anne I replied, “you may speak freely.”

“So… this is my story,” I said - and then I told her everything. Just as I’ve written it here.

About my ears. About how I reached out to Ostromir hoping for help. About how he put an immoral request toward me. About how I refused. About how Edward saw us through the window. About how Edward wrote to her and the Archchancellor about Ostromir’s behavior. About Padraig and how he led me off. About being tortured. About waking up in a field outside of Helena, beaten near to death and all alone without my glasses.

“How do you know this if your memory was wiped?” Anne pressed me when I’d finished my tale.

“I can’t say I recall every moment personally, Your Majesty,” I admitted. “I learned most of these things from my friends, Edward Napier and Celestine Herbert. But I’ve known them both for decades and I would trust them with my life. They would never mislead me.”

Anne turned her gaze toward Edward. “I’d like to hear how you came by these specifics, Edward. Where were you as this drama was occurring?”

“I remained at the Dragon’s Rest Tavern for some time after Padraig escorted Tanith away,” he informed her. “Several Saint’s minutes passed and I began to grow a bit paranoid. I decided I ought to go check on Tanith. I went to Padraig’s office, figuring she’d be there, but she was nowhere to be seen. And Padraig wouldn’t give me any information on where I might find her.”

“What spurred this paranoia, Mr. Napier?” Anne inquired.

“My brother was murdered in a very similar fashion some forty years ago. He went into the palace, and never came back,” he explained. “And… I’ve had a growing suspicion toward Padraig for some time. Some four days ago, he invited me to the Orlov house where he suggested that he planned to kill Adrian Helvets. The Orlovs are a Raevir family… and I found it somewhat odd that he was conducting his business there. Harrenites and Raevir have not historically enjoyed close ties.”

Anne nodded. “Go on.”

“I also have it on good authority that Ostromir and Padraig are secretly kinsmen. I believe that an O’Rourke man… erm… cuckolded Ostromir’s father. And that he is not in actuality a Carrion. These connections occurred to me as I was sitting there in the tavern and I began to worry for my friend Tanith’s safety. So… With Ostromir having ample reason to want to silence Tanith - and Padraig having suspect connections… I got very paranoid indeed.”

“And what did you do then?” Anne asked.

“I gathered up some ISA soldiers and set out in search of Tanith. The first place I checked was the Orlov house, where I’d been a few days prior, only to find the windows barred and door barricaded,” Edward continued. “I dismissed the ISA boys and returned to the tavern, where I waited for roughly thirty Saint’s Minutes. That’s when Padraig, Franz Nikolai, and Ostromir returned together. They began jeering at me, making threats. Ostromir pointed at me and drew his hand across his throat. We had a small fracas and I might’ve spilled tea on Ostromir… but afterward, I quickly left the tavern to clear my head and formulate what I planned to do next. I made my way here to Haense to see if I could find Celestine and some of my colleagues in the NGS.”

“And then?”

“Ostromir confronted me at the tavern in Haense,” Edward said. “He offered me a deal. He said he would kill my wife and children if I ever spoke about this incident. But, if I remained silent, he’d owe me a favor. During the conversation, he admitted to me that he tortured Tanith and forced to drink a concoction that would wipe her memory. He also did something that shook me to my core. He pulled the letter I wrote to Archchancellor Jonah Stahl-Elendil out of his pocket and read it to me, word for word. No doubt as a means of intimidation.”

“So he either intercepted the letter… or Mr. Elendil gave it to him,” I murmured. “That’s the only way he could have possibly had it.”

Edward nodded, finishing his piece. “Tanith’s current physical state, as well as her lack of memory regarding what happened, corroborates Ostromir’s confession.”

The Empress leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers in front of her. Her lips pressed into a tight frown. For a long moment, she stayed quiet… and I wasn’t sure what she thought about the situation. “But we are missing one important piece of this equation — and that is the purportedly immoral request that Ostromir made of Mrs. Vursur.”

Edward swallowed hard. “I hesitate to name it in Mrs. Vursur’s presence, lest the knowledge put her back in harm’s way.”

The Empress gestured toward me with an open palm. “Does she not deserve to know why this harm was visited on her?”

I glanced in Edward’s direction. Our eyes met. “Do you want to know, Tanith?”

I hesitated, drawing in a breath. “…I do.”

“Then I will tell you,” Edward replied with grim resolution. “I mentioned earlier that Padraig was making plans to assassinate Adrian Helvets. He, Ostromir, and Franz Nikolai had all entered a conspiracy to carry out the murder. Tanith, you were to be an instrument in the slaying.”

My eyes widened behind my glasses. “Me — ?! But — ?! How?”

“It’s well known that the Helvets family are descended from the Chivays. They wanted you to arrange a meeting with Adrian under the false pretense of telling him about his saintly ancestors,” Edward explained. “They would use that meeting to stage an ambush and kill him. In exchange for your participation and secrecy, Ostromir would agree to repair your ears.”

“My God!” I cried out, pressing a hand to my chest. “No wonder I refused! And — no wonder they retaliated as they did!”

“This is surely very serious,” she said at last. “If it is true. Given the dire risks of the situation, I will be assigning this case to our Solicitor-General. It will be a private investigation. You understand I cannot have a public case on my hands just yet, considering this involves members deeply tied with my own government.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. I was once a Minister myself. I know the rules of the game,” Edward replied.

“I only want to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else,” I added quietly. “Especially poor Mr. Helvets! There’s no telling who all is involved in this…”

“Jonah is a friend of mine - or so I thought,” Edward added. “He’s a Harrenite. We Harrenites take our bonds of kinship seriously. But… he gave my letter to Ostromir. What am I supposed to make of that?”

In my mind, I recalled the night at the Josephite Convention where Jonah Stahl-Elendil gave me the flower from his breast and welcomed me so warmly into the party. “I don’t want to think of him as a bad person,” I said. “I don’t want to think he allowed me to be hurt like this. But even if he isn’t involved… he needs to know what kind of thugs he’s got in his party and in his ministry. And he needs to get rid of them.”

Anne nodded along. “Absolutely. Jonah is a good man. This may have been some sort of mistake on his part. I’ve had many long talks with His Excellency- his love for the Empire is as strong as my own. He would not turn a blind eye to your torture and assault, Mrs. Vursur. It’s not his character.”

I wanted to tell her that good people are often capable of very wicked things. In my lifetime, I’ve seen many good people commit heinous acts of evil. No matter how you look at it, Jonah Stahl-Elendil played a role in my torture and abuse.

We wrapped up the meeting there. The Empress had her officers escort us out of the palace. From there, Edward and I made our way quickly back to Haense.

I’m glad it wasn’t an ambush like Celestine predicted. But at the same time, I still have my worries. Will the Solicitor-General take us seriously and investigate as thoroughly as needed? Who’s to say that the Solicitor-General isn’t compromised as well?

Edward and I need to be prepared just in case. Justice needs to be done, one way or another.

 

Entry 102 –

1789

Spoiler

I haven’t written in a while. Whenever I open my journal and look down at the pages, I just feel paralyzed. There’s so much going on, I can hardly keep track of it. The only thing I can do is go through the events one by one in order. Everything’s been happening so fast. It’s pure madness. I lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, and ask myself - “Oh God, what has my life become? All I wanted to do was get my ears fixed!”

The first - and worst - bit of news is about Edward. He’s been arrested. I don’t know precisely what occurred, but I heard a few things through the grapevine. He confronted Padraig O’Rourke in the middle of Main Street in Helena, right outside the ISA Bastille. You’ll never guess what he did. Padraig must have made threats against Edward or his wife Gragmar, because Edward pulled a bowie knife and stabbed Padraig right in the throat!

Some rumors said Ms. Gragmar was also there - and that she beat the living tar out of Padraig. Of course, the ISA swarmed the two Napiers immediately and arrested them. They rushed Padraig to the medical clinic for treatment. Amazingly, he survived. Truth be told, I’m rather thankful he did. At least this way, Edward is only facing charges of attempted murder rather than full-on murder.

But I read that Edward is possibly going to be executed. After the assault on Padraig, they slapped Edward in cuffs and put him on trial immediately where they sentenced him to death. Edward put forth a request for Injunctive Relief, which was granted by the Supreme Court of Oren.

He has a Saint’s Week to appeal his case for re-trial.

When I heard about what happened, I knew what I had to do. The reason Edward confronted Padraig is simple. He was seeking justice for me. If the court knew the true reason behind Edward’s actions, I truly believe they’d exonerate him for his crimes. Empress Anne I said that she wanted to keep the investigation into my accusations private, but… my friend’s life hangs in the balance. If Padraig is convicted of his crimes against me, then surely that would be enough to free Edward.

So… I did it. I went public.

I published an open letter in which I laid out everything that had happened to me.

It… made some waves, to say the least. The Orenian Ministry of Justice published a response letter where they pledged to investigate my accusations thoroughly. They promised that no man, no matter how esteemed or august he may be, will escape the eyes of truth and justice.

I hope they’re right.

As it stands, I’m currently still in Haense. I expect I will be extradited back to Oren to stand trial very soon, though. I’m certain Padraig and Ostromir are hiring lawyers and preparing their cases as we speak. I’ll need to hire a lawyer as well, I imagine. Oh, what to do? I’ve never been in a situation like this before. We didn’t have lawyers back in the 14th century. The new Orenian court system is so complicated, I have no idea where to even begin.

There’s a chance this could all go wrong. I might be charged with slander for what I’ve written. What happens if the court decides against me? Will they kill Edward? Will they kill me? Everything’s up in the air right now.

If nothing else, though, I can rest easy knowing I did the right thing. I told the truth - even if no one wants to believe it.

Edward wrote me a letter from prison. He believes that, between Padraig and Ostromir, Padraig is the more dangerous opponent. Their strategy in court may be to set Ostromir up as the ‘fall man’. They’ll place the blame on Ostromir to try and diminish Padraig’s role in the crimes. Edward wants us to try and parlay with Ostromir. Ostromir might have information that will help us take down Padraig for good. But I don’t know what to do. I want them both to face justice for what they’ve done to me. All this strategy and backroom dealing… is there no way to handle our case in an upfront and honest manner? Can we achieve justice without letting one of these awful thugs off the hook?

What’s the next step? Who can I trust?

I wrote to Icroth and explained the situation to him. Naturally, he’s horrified. He believes every word and didn’t cast a single doubt on my story. Of course not. Icroth trusts in my honesty. It’s one of the qualities he says he likes best about me. Because of the tense situation, he’s opted to stay out in the wilderness for a while longer, but he sends me his love and said he’d be in town for the upcoming NGS meeting in a few weeks.

Speaking of the NGS, there is some good news.

Celestine invited me over to her new house today. Well, I suppose it’s not new to her, but it’s new to me! She’s been living there since she married Otto. I just haven’t had a chance to visit before now. She, Otto, and their triplets live in the basement below Otto’s liquor store. Calling it a basement makes it sound cold and dark, but it’s actually a wonderfully cozy little space. There’s a crackling hearth and a big cozy sofa where we lounged and talked.

Of course, we discussed my letter and everything that had happened as a result. As I sat there with tea in hand, I felt overwhelmed by all the help Celestine and the NGS had given me over the last several days. “I really would be up a creek without a paddle,” I said to her as I took a sip. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve friends as good as you.”

Celestine shrugged. “You would do the same for me, Tanith. So it’s no trouble,” she said. “But that reminds me. I… suppose you’re out of a job now, aren’t you?”

“Oh… I suppose I am,” I answered, frowning. In the midst of all the madness, I hadn’t really thought about my employment status. The relics from the Helena museum are boxed up safely in storage. A part of me figured that eventually we’d be able to re-open and I’d be able to resume my position as curator. As the days go by, however, that seemed less and less likely.

Celestine confirmed my thoughts out loud.

“We won’t be opening up another Helena museum for at least a decade, I’m afraid. Not after what happened to you and Napier.”

I hung my head. Truthfully, I’d come to love our little yellow museum on 2 Silver Jubilee Street. I loved waking up on sunny mornings and looking out over the flower-strewn horse statue in the street below. Icroth and I had our first kiss sitting atop the roof there, under the moonlight above. It’s a place that will be forever enshrined in my heart. “My hope was that I could return after Ostromir and Padraig were charged and we got poor Edward out of jail…” I murmured, already knowing in the back of my mind that it was impossible.

Celestine took a sip of her tea to hide her grimace. “Ostromir might get his due,” she said. “But… I doubt Padraig will ever be charged, Tanith.”

I exhaled in a long sigh. “You’re right, but I wish you weren’t,” I said softly into my teacup.

Celestine shifted closer to me on the sofa. She put a warm and comforting hand on my shoulder. “I know this is a strange land for you, Tanith. Haense is a different beast than Helena. But… you’re safe here. And when it comes right down to it, this country has a lot of the same cultural values as Oren.”

“It’s not so bad,” I said, putting on a reassuring smile for Celestine. “It reminds me of home, a little bit.”

“Home?” Celestine blinked. “You mean… Kaedrin? The original, ancient Kaedrin back in Anthos?”

I hadn’t realized quite what I said. Heat rushed into my face. “Oh - Oh, yes, I suppose that’s what I meant,” I stuttered. “It’s a bit like Ard Kerrack. A-and you know, Kralta was right over the hill from us back then. We had some Raevir architecture there. I guess… I still think of that place as home. Even now.”

“Well… at least it’s not completely unfamiliar,” she said with a touch of an awkward smile. “What of Icroth? Have you heard from him yet? I penned him a letter the other day.”

“He’ll be in town for the meeting in a few weeks,” I replied. “But… he’s decided to stay out in the wilds for the time being. He figures it’s better that way. Icroth… he doesn’t have a great deal of trust in humans. He told me he expected something like this.”

Celestine’s smile faded quickly. She pursed her lips. “I can’t blame him. I spent four years telling the world that Oren had changed. That they could trust us. Now look at what’s happened. I feel like a liar.”

“I thought Oren was different too, Cellie,” I said, placing my hand upon her knee. “None of us knew what was really going on behind the scenes. It was kept a secret from ordinary people.”

“Jonah and I were good friends, Tanith,” Celestine sighed. “He’s a good man… I really, truly believe that. To think that he might have something to do with all of this? It… keeps me awake at night. But… back to the matter of your employment. I was thinking back the other day… It was well over twenty years ago now, when you first arrived in Oren… I wanted to hire you as a maid for the Flagship museum. But now I realize you’re so much more than that.”

I giggled. “I wouldn’t mind being a maid! Someone needs to dust the artifacts!”

Celestine laughed as well. “Well, as adept as I’m sure you are at domestic work, your skills would be wasted on such a thing I’m afraid!” She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Tanith, Caspia is going to be stepping down as our Chief of Research. She intends to focus her efforts on Norland for the time being… which leaves the position open. Would you perhaps be interested in succeeding her?”

I blanched, my eyes going wide. I didn’t know what to say. “D-Do you think I can handle that?” I spluttered out at last, after a long moment of silence. “I - uhm - I’ve never done anything like that before! What would my duties be?”

“You’d be overseeing our research division and managing our ongoing scholarly projects,” Celestine explained. “You’d need to hold research division meetings outside of our usual yearly get-togethers. Listen to peoples’ ideas and get updates on the status of their projects. Nudge them along the right path. I think you would be brilliant at it.”

I blushed. “You’re too kind, Cellie,” I muttered. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“The study you and Henriette and Irena published has been amazingly well received!” Celestine said. “You mustn’t discount yourself. It’s the NGS’s most acclaimed study in our history - and you contributed to it! Even the Empress loved it!”

I smiled, feeling a warm glow inside my chest at the praise. “Then let’s keep doing our best to produce more and better work, yes?”

Celestine grinned at me in response. She bit her lip in thought for a moment, considering. “There is one more thing Otto and I have been discussing, actually…”

“Oh? What is that?”

“I intend to expand the role of Vice President of the NGS to include the oversight of all global museums, once we… get museums globally once more,” Celestine said, gesturing with her hands as she talked. “Thus, we might find ourselves in need of a dedicated curator for the flagship museum in the near future. Otto wouldn’t be able to handle it himself any longer.”

Once more, I felt my jaw slacken and my eyes grow wide. “You… can’t mean me, can you?”

Celestine nodded. “Otto recommended you for the role himself. And I quite agreed with him.”

“Celestine, this is so much!” I exclaimed. “Chief of Research and Flagship curator both?”

“Is it too much?” Celestine asked, leaning forward to look at me seriously. “Be honest, Tanith. I don’t want to force anything unwanted on you.”

“No, no! Oh my goodness! I just – I’m so flattered, Celestine,” I stuttered. “Thank you! I’ll do my best with both, I promise! I know how much that museum means to you, Cellie… To you and Otto both. To think you would trust me with your baby like this… It means the world to me.”

“After everything you did to get the Helena Museum up and running, I have complete faith in you,” Celestine replied. “You’re the godmother of my children and my best friend. Truly, you’re a sister to me. I wouldn’t have anyone else looking after my museum.”

I thanked Celestine profusely for her trust in me. When I told her that she was the greatest friend I’d ever had in five hundred years of life, I truly meant it. She recommended I sit down with Otto and talk to him about how he’d been managing the Flagship museum. It’s a great deal larger and more elaborate than the Helena museum, with dozens of artifacts from across time and various cultures. All of those items have different needs for their maintenance and care. It’ll be a lot more work than before, but I’m honored Celestine chose me for the task. I’ll be sure to do the best I can!

Before we parted, though, she had one more surprise for me. As I was heading out the door, Celestine handed me a pair of keys. “Those are the keys to Juan’s old house,” she said. “I’m sure you remember it. I want you to have it, Tanith.”

“You didn’t sell it when you got married?” I marveled.

“No, and I’m glad I didn’t. You need a place to stay. Juan would have wanted you to have it. The place is still full of his old maps. You’ll take care of them, won’t you?” Celestine asked me.

“Juan Lyons originals?” I smiled. “I’ll treasure them, of course.”

With that, we parted ways. I walked through the Haensi streets over to Juan’s old house and slid the key into the lock. Moonlight glimmered through the windows, illuminating the beautiful maps lining the walls. Smiling softly, I walked over and admired the painting and craftsmanship on each map.

I always promised Juan I’d own one of his maps someday. It seems I made good on that promise.

As I lay down in bed with Juan’s old maps surrounding me, I smiled - and felt safe and happy for the first time in several weeks. There’s still a great deal of uncertainty left. But… with luck, I’ll get through it.

 

Letters between Edward & Tanith –

Spoiler

Dear Tanith,

I write this within a prison cell. My trial was deemed a mistrial by the Supreme Court, and I have a week to assemble a case. However, with your new paper… (Yes, I’ve heard about it even in here), there is a new chance. If Padraig O’Rourke can be proven to be involved in your kidnapping - it would immediately invalidate the charges against me, and I would be freed from death row. We have a strong case of evidence against Ostromir - but less against Padraig, though we know he was involved. My proposition is thus:

We attempt to turncoat Ostromir to get him to testify against Padraig, and in return - push publically for some level of amnesty against Ostromir. We have much leverage against him. He is the primary target of your letter, and under heavy legal investigation. It is likely Padraig will try to distance himself from Ostromir, letting him be the ‘fall man’. Against Ostromir - we have our facts and case. We also have personal favours. I have two favours I can directly call upon, and more may yet be found.

What do you think, my friend? Could you accept Ostromir going free, if it meant Padraig was hung - and my sentence, commutated?

Sincerely,
Edward Napier.

Dear Edward,

I’m terrified at the thought of you being executed. That’s the last thing I want to happen. If I were in any way responsible for your death, I fear it would linger on my conscience forever. I can’t turn your dear wife into a widow, nor your children into orphans. We have to prioritize getting you out of prison and exonerating you of your crimes.

I’ll be honest - I want Ostromir and Padraig both to pay for what they did. But I’m willing to make a sacrifice if it means you get to go free and return to your family.

I’m not sure I have the strength of face Ostromir personally and I doubt he would consent to meet with me regardless. Do you have anyone on your side who might be able to negotiate with him in a civil and productive manner? Someone he likes, maybe? Maybe he’s got a lawyer we can talk to?

Please let me know what I need to do.

Ever your friend,
Tanith

 

Entry 103 –

1789

Spoiler

Icroth came back into town last night. I met him at the gate outside of Haense. He looked rough from all those months spent out in the wilderness, honing his abilities and his connection with Xan. His beard had grown at least five inches longer and his white hair hung around his face in curtains. Taking him by the hand, I escorted him to our new home. He sat at the kitchen table and ate like a hog, shoveling beef stew into his mouth. It had been a long while since he’d had a proper meal.

After dinner, I sat him on the balcony and trimmed his hair. We shaved the sides of his head the way he likes and sheared down his wooly beard. White hair fell like snow into the street below. Don’t worry, though - I made certain to sweep it all up after we were done.

“Are you any closer to communing with Xan?” I asked him as we made ready for bed.

Icroth lapsed into a bitter silence, his brow furrowing. His pale blue eyes grew misty and distant as he pulled back the sheets and lay down in bed. I sat down next to him in my nightgown, studying his features. I missed the strong, stony-grey cupid’s bow of his lips. That straight, proud nose that looks as if it were chiseled from rock. The pale, faded lines that mark the locations of his old, forgotten wounds. At length, Icroth spoke.

“I should have been here,” he said.

“Icroth…” I laid down next to him. He slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me near to him. “What happened isn’t anyone fault but Ostromir Carrion’s and Padraig O’Rourke’s.”

“I know. But… I find it difficult,” he grunted, closing his eyes. “Being in these cities among all these valah with their dishonesty and vice. They’ve always looked down on us. And, Tanith, you are… kindhearted. Outspoken. Brave. You have a mind orient to justice. All beautiful qualities. But not among the valah who would prefer you to be quiet and subservient. I knew this would happen to you - and I should have protected you. I failed.”

I thought back to my old self - who I was among the White Rose. Quiet and hardworking Tanith who never spoke up, never spoke out, and never interfered. Those were the aspects of my character that Thomas praised the most when he wrote about me in his memoirs. It made me ashamed to think I once let injustice and cruelty simply slide without the slightest comment.

“Sometimes…” I said, tracing my fingers over Icroth’s chest. “Sometimes I think we weren’t made to live among humans.”

“We aren’t,” Icroth confirmed in his usual blunt way. “If not for the NGS, I would see no point in staying among them. They don’t share our perspective nor our values. And they will only hurt you again and again.”

Was he right? Looking back on my history with humans and Oren in particular, I realized that it was a long and often violent history. Kidnapped by bandits as a baby, I was sold into chattel slavery and traded around from noble house to noble house. Sometimes my owners were kind, but other times they beat me savagely… and I still have the scars to remind me of my hurts. My 500-year-old body has marks left on me by humans who are now centuries dead.

When finally I was freed, I joined the White Rose. While they did not enact physical violence on me, they were violent to my people. And their influence left deep scars on my mind. I felt brainwashed, coerced, into despising my own people. I smiled benignly as they died. I scorned them for their perceived savagery and decadence… when truthfully I knew nothing about them. It took decades to move past that prejudice. I am still moving past it.

The violence against me and my people didn’t stop with the Rose. When Andrik Vydra was assassinated, I saw the people of Oren descend into an anti-elven frenzy. They put bricks through the windows of elven-owned shops. They torched inns and apartment buildings that catered to elves. My husband Theo and I - both longtime residents of Petrus with a successful business - had our livelihood trashed and hate mobs posted up outside our house. When it finally came time to flee, when he had no other choice but to run, they murdered Theo in the street - right in front of me. It was by a miracle that I survived.

And now this. The Everardines introduced legislation to strip me of my rights. The Josephites took me to a black site and beat me senseless. Had Oren ever once been kind to me? Individual people could be wonderful, yes. By themselves as individual islands, humans run the gamut from saints to sinners and everything in between. But… Oren… as a whole… as an entity by itself… had it ever been anything but violent? Whether it was outward, vicious, bloodthirsty violence… or something quieter. More insidious. More subtle.

My body has centuries-old marks from where humans tortured me. Yet despite it all, I still want to believe in their goodness.

Am I a fool?

Although I love him and I see his wisdom, I never wanted to adopt Icroth’s cynicism. No, I always chose instead to hope. Things can and will get better, I said! But when you take the long view of history - the elven view of history - you see how cruel it has consistently been. You’re forced to face the awful realization that humans don’t change.

I couldn’t sleep last night. I lay awake in Icroth’s arms just thinking. Thinking and thinking and thinking. Wondering why. Why I stay. After the NGS is gone, will there be anything binding me to the lands of the valah? Why does my loyalty compel me to remain?

Maybe it’s because I’m worried I won’t have anywhere else to go. They know about me in the elven lands. I’m Tanith of the White Rose. The dark elf who willingly and happily watched her people suffer at the hands of the valah. No matter where I go or what I do, I’ll never shake that moniker. It could be a thousand years from now and the elves would still remember.

I doubt I could ever make up for the things I did so long ago. The elves will never forgive me.

…

The NGS meeting today went well. James approached me in the museum hallway prior to the meeting and asked if we could meet. “I have to talk to you about some things,” he said in his usual evasive James manner. “Nothing bad, but a lot to deal with.” We made plans to head to my house after the meeting concluded.

Celestine had a few exciting announcements - and some not-so-exciting. She informed everyone about the closure of our Helena and Kaedrin museums. “Due to… unfortunate events beyond our control, namely the poor treatment of our Society members, we have been forced to withdraw our museum and our other operations from Helena,” she told everyone from the podium. “And, due to growing racist tendencies and a declining economy in Kaedrin, we have also been forced to withdraw our museum from there as well. Thus, the NGS has temporarily exited the Empire… It is unfortunate, to be sure. I have often considered Helena to be one of my two homes, but- It is no longer safe for many of our Society members there. Tanith has been horribly mistreated by some very powerful men. But! She has our unwavering support. The NGS has always stood on its own. Even so, I advised everyone to take care and watch your backs while visiting the Empire.”

In addition to the closures, we also need to begin cataloging our artifacts and making ready to depart from Arcas. It seems the Inferi aren’t backing down. While the elves managed to defeat them at Starlight Bay, the Inferi keep attacking relentlessly. It’s only a matter of time until the entire world is reduced to ruin. The people of Arcas cannot hold out forever. I hung my head at the news. I’ve seen this same process so many times before. I’d hoped - naively, perhaps - that we wouldn’t have to do it again.

Isabella de Falstaff, a longtime member of the NGS, announced her retirement from the organization today too. She’s reaching her twilight years and wants to join her family abroad in Aeldin. I was sad to see her go. Isabella has been a member of the NGS even longer than I have, yet I never got to know her properly. Regardless, we all wished her well and told her we’d miss her.

But there was some good news! Celestine had solid-gold compass rose pins made for all the members of the NGS Circle! They’re beautifully hand-crafted and I simply adore mine. I’m going to wear it every day from now on. She also announced my promotion to Chief of Research and Flagship Museum Curator. Everyone applauded and cheered for me. I couldn’t help but blush. To think, someone like me could boast such fancy titles! It’s the proudest I’ve felt in a long time, to be sure.

With that, Celestine drew our meeting to a close. Icroth, James, and I made our way to Juan’s house. (I still think of it as Juan’s house - but silly me! It’s my house!) While James and I sat down at the kitchen table, Icroth went upstairs to gather his things.

“You’re leaving already?” I asked him as I saw him shoulder his rucksack.

“I’ll be back to visit soon,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “I’m not going far. I just need to be alone to practice. I need to become stronger and master my powers… so I can protect you. I love you, Tanith.”

I frowned, disappointed, but I let him go. “I love you too.”

James and I sat in silence for a time. I could see the discomfort and awkwardness on James’s features. At last, James broke the awkward silence.

“Is there any news on the library trip?”

I blinked - and it took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, the Junior NGS trip!” I exclaimed - and suddenly felt my face grow hot with shame. “I… almost forgot about it.”

“Has anyone signed up?” James asked.

“Yes, two people,” I replied. “But… with all that’s happened, I’m in a bit of an awkward position. I don’t think it’s safe for me to travel through the Empire right now. Haelun’or is so close to Helena. I still want to arrange the field trip, but… we might opt for an alternate destination.”

“Any in mind?”

“Ah, well…” I hummed. “There’s an island of mushrooms out in the sea near Korvassa. I’ve always wanted to go there. The only trouble is… well, it’s near Korvassa. I don’t think the Inferi have touched the mushroom island, but… well, I can’t be certain. I’d need to visit it myself to make sure if it’s safe.”

“Perhaps we could visit together,” James suggested.

“They say the island has a river of green slime and you can bounce on top of it. I think the children would love that,” I said. “Would you be willing to take a look with me? You mentioned once that you aren’t keen on travel.”

“I’m more willing than I used to be,” James commented. “The mood in Helena lately is… unsettled, to say the least. I can get in touch with my bodyguard friends. Between them and perhaps Chirr and Icroth, visiting the Mushroom Island should be safe enough.”

“What was it that you wanted to talk about?” I asked, pivoting. “The thing you mentioned before the meeting.”

“Oh, yes,” James began. “I found a… little elf child starving on the street near my shop in Helena. I fed her and took her to the doctor. It seems she… imprinted on me. So to speak.”

“Ah… so the orphan adopted you,” I replied.

James nodded. “More or less. I couldn’t shunt her off on the church or hand her over to the humans. My parents - ah, adoptive parents, they were human - died when I was forty or fifty. Regardless of how well-intentioned they were, I don’t want that to happen to her.”

“That’s a good idea,” I replied. “Elves have needs that humans don’t necessarily understand. Be sure to bring her along on the trip! I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.”

“I plan to,” he said. “That’s why I asked about it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I inquired. “I know it’s hard raising a child by yourself.”

“Thank you, but luckily, I was in a good spot when I found her,” James answered. “I own a large property in Helena, gifted to me by my playwright friend. So she has her own bedroom. Some of my friends have donated money for her care, but… I’m waiting until the… situation settles before I make any big purchases. To see if we’re staying in the city or going somewhere else.”

“Ah, yes,” I sighed. “It’s a bit uncertain for everyone.”

“For us in the NGS especially,” James added. “With everything that happened to you.”

“Maybe so, but we mustn’t forget the demon army bearing down on us from the south,” I replied. “You’re too young to remember, but… well… things like this have happened before. You’ll have to get used to picking up and moving your entire life at least once a century.”

James blinked, taken aback. “But we’re… not losing, are we?”

“I don’t want us to lose,” I assured him. “But the Inferi are relentless. The more we fight them, the stronger they’re sure to get. When you’ve lived through several of these events, you… begin to recognize the patterns.”

“So, what? We pick up, leave Arcas at the mercy of the demons, and just run?” James grimaced.

“Yes, that’s… typically how it goes,” I replied. “I’ve gone through this process nearly eight times. It’s always something. You never get to stay. Not forever.”

“They just… leave everything behind? Over and over again?”

“Over and over again,” I answered. “I could be wrong, but… as I’ve said, having gone through this many times, I don’t have much faith in being able to stay.”

James leaned back in his chair, a perturbed frown on his lips. He was quiet for a time. When he spoke again, it was with resignation. “Then that’s one more thing to keep in mind.”

I fell into silence as I formulated my thoughts. My fingers traced the folds of my silk dress. “For us elves, there’s… really no such thing as forever. Or for life,” I said at last. “There’s only ‘right now.’ We… go through many episodes in our centuries-long lifespan. We’ll do one thing - be in one place - for a time, but eventually, we’ve got no choice but to change. Impermanence is a theme of elvish living, at least when you live among humans. For elves, we don’t have many things we get to keep. We have to get used to letting go. But… that’s why you need to hold onto the things that last.”

James didn’t say anything. I could see him processing the words in his mind. Slowly, he pushed down on his thighs and got to his feet.

“Thank you, Tanith,” he said. “I’ll be heading out. Contact me when you’re ready to head down to the island.”

I nodded and saw him out. I hope he doesn’t mind an old elf lecturing at him. For some reason, whenever I see James, I get this urge to give him advice. Perhaps that’s just the dynamic of young elves and old elves, though. I see myself in James. He’s an elf like me, raised by humans, indoctrinated into their culture. I don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did.

He’s a good young man, that James Chapel. I like him.

 

Letters between Tanith and the Solicitor-General –

Spoiler

MINISTRY of JUSTICE
VERITAS OMNIA VINCIT

Dear Miss Vursur

You are hereby summoned by the Solicitor-General for interrogation. We ask that you respond to the following notice as soon as possible. Please submit a time and place which would be suitable for the above mentioned actions.

His Excellency,
Solicitor-General Basileios Balthazar Baelius
J.D SSE.

To Your Excellency, Mr. Baelius,

Hello, sir, and thank you for your letter. I would be more than happy to provide any sort of testimony necessary. My schedule is quite free and I would be available for interrogation whenever Your Excellency has an opening in his calendar.

However, I would ask that - if Your Excellency wishes me to testify in Helena - to please send an ISA escort to ensure my safety. I am very worried that certain unscrupulous actors may attempt to harm me if I travel alone.

Alternately, I would gladly testify at my current residence in Haense if Your Excellency would consent to visit.

If neither of those options appeal, we could meet at a third neutral location or perhaps even conduct the interview via letter. I am at Your Excellency’s disposal and willing to comply with any demands, so long as they take the safety of my person into account.

Thank you.

Signed,
Tanith Vursur

 

Entry 104 –

1789

Spoiler

I’m such a fool.

That’s the only thought going through my head. Over and over. Stupid Tanith. Foolish Tanith. Naive Tanith. I believed that I could speak truth to power and make a positive change. I thought that if I stood up and told my story, honesty and goodness would prevail. Justice would win the day. The truth would surely be revealed and wickedness would be punished.

Looking back, I feel like such an idiot for ever thinking that way. I’ve five hundred years old. Shouldn’t I know better by now? History has proven again and again that Oren will always mistreat and abuse elves. How could I expect anything different? I, a lone dark elf, tried to stand up against the corrupt government officials of Oren. Did I truly, sincerely think I would be taken seriously? Did I think I would be treated with respect and dignity? Did I think I would get justice for what was done to me - and, no doubt, to others?

Oh God…

Edward is likely going to face execution. He’s got a wife and children. I tried to save him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t. My voice wasn’t loud enough. Oh God. Is this really how it all ends?

Yesterday, I got a letter from the Solicitor-General of Oren. He summoned me for interrogation regarding the claims I made in my open letter. Was I nervous? Most certainly, but I thought that if I simply stuck to my story and told the truth, everything would be all right. After all, the evidence spoke for itself. We had medical records, timelines, witness reports. The Solicitor-General would certainly uncover the facts of the matter and shine a light on this awful conspiracy. I invited him to meet with me at my home in Haense, where we could talk in peace. I promised to tell him everything he needed to know.

So that’s what happened. I met him in the square, took him back to my house, and we sat down in the kitchen nook. He asked me a few questions about various things - my relationship to Ostromir; what I remembered about the day of my assault; whether or not I had any enemies. The interrogation didn’t last for very long, surprisingly. He was in and out in under an hour. I didn’t think anything of it. Perhaps he already had all the evidence he needed and just needed my testimony to clear a few details up.

Afterward, I bid him adieu and went about my business. I ran into James and Mr. Rat outside the tavern. We chatted for a little while and made plans to go visit the Mushroom Island. Then, I dropped by the museum and helped Celestine catalog artifacts before it was time to return home for dinner with Icroth. All in all, a fairly ordinary day. I felt… confident! I thought I gave a solid and truthful testimony. Lies fold when you push against them, but the truth stands firm. All this time, I’ve never changed my story. I’ve stuck to the facts, pure and simple. I never told a lie or even a half-truth. Nothing left my lips that wasn’t a complete, utter, verifiable fact.

This morning, I awoke to find a letter from the Ministry of Justice in my mailbox.

The Solicitor-General deemed my evidence insufficient and dropped all charges against Ostromir and Padraig. Just like that. One letter… and the whole thing was over.

In my head, I’m screaming. What did I do wrong? How was my evidence insufficient? We had witnesses. We had a timeline and evidence - both testimonial and in item form - to corroborate the events as they unfolded. Did the Solicitor-General not see the bandages on my face? Did he not read my medical records and learn about the rope burns on my wrists?

Now Edward is going to die. Ostromir and Padraig will never be brought to justice. All of Oren thinks I’m a liar.

Did I make the wrong choice, publishing that open letter? Would it have been better just to stay silent?

No. I spent too long being quiet and afraid. So many years with my voice silent and my head bowed, too frightened of the consequences to speak out. After the White Rose, I made a promise to myself that I would never let injustice slide by again. I swore that if I saw evil occurring in the world, I would raise my voice and speak its name plainly for all to hear. The trouble is that evil is too powerful for one voice shouting alone. Evil is insidious. It hides and protects itself. It exists in the dark and hunts by night, with cloak and dagger. I can’t shine a light all by myself. It takes more than just me. Not since the days of the White Rose have I felt so small, so weak, and so ineffectual.

But – I can’t stop fighting just because of a single setback, can I? There are lives on the line! I’ve got to save Edward’s life any way I can. There’s no way I can let him die! He’s the first friend I made when I came back to Oren - my oldest friend and one of my best. I won’t let his wife become a widow and his children become orphans.

It’s clear we can’t trust the system to enact justice by itself. But what can I do? What’s the next step? I need a plan!

 

Entry 105 –

1790

Spoiler

I’ve been nearly driving myself frantic trying to think of some way to help Edward, but I’m worried there’s nothing more I can do. At least, nothing within the bounds of the law. Part of me wanted to write another open letter, but what good would that do? I’ve written three open letters to the Orenian public by now - one about marriage, one about the paladins, and one about my assault - and none of those letters changed anything. My marriage law got shot down in the House of Lords. The Paladins outright ignored my criticism. And the Solicitor-General ruled that I didn’t have enough evidence for my assault. So it’s clear to me now. I can write as much as I like and scream as loud as I want, but no one is guaranteed to listen.

Is there really nothing I can do to save Edward Napier’s life? Am I forced to sit idly by as my friend rots in jail, awaiting execution? Is there no escape to this nightmarish situation?

As I lay in bed the other night, I suddenly remembered my magic lessons with Miss Serenity. Voidal Translocation! I threw back the covers and sat up in bed, staring into the darkness as my mind whirled. Serenity taught me that living things could not be transported through the Void, but… certain spells allow a mage to shift from one place to another. Blinking, teleporting - that’s what they call it. Could I learn to shift other people besides myself? Is it possible I could somehow use the magic to break Edward out of jail?

Normally, I would never go against the law in such a flagrant manner. But… the system had failed me. They say if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Was I really considering a jailbreak? Well, I couldn’t just let Edward die, could I? He stabbed Padraig to protect me. I’m the reason he’s facing execution.

Yet there was one major problem - I’m not… very good at Voidal Translocation just yet. My first lesson involved expatriating a tiny marble into the Void and I couldn’t even do that. How could I translocate a friend out of a jail cell? I resolved that I needed to continue my magic lessons as soon as possible.

Some weeks ago, Miss Serenity wrote to me asking when we might hold our next magic lesson. She inquired about the state of my health and offered to let me come live at her home if I needed a place to stay. News of my assault and my open letter had reached them even in the far south of Aegrothond. Sitting in bed, staring into the darkness, I realized I hadn’t yet responded to her yet. I’d been too busy to think about it. Unable to sleep, I went to my desk and drafted a response.

As soon as the Reza post office opened the next morning, I sent it off. I didn’t tell her what I planned to use the magic for. I don’t know Serenity that well yet. Here’s hoping she won’t regret teaching me once she finds out what I’ve been planning.

A few days afterward, I received a message from Serenity inviting me to her home in Aegrothond. Luckily, traveling down south wasn’t an issue for me. The route from Reza to Aegrothond is fairly quick and free of bandits. My injuries have healed up nicely too, so I’m back in good physical shape after everything that happened to me. (My nose is blessedly not crooked - Florenza did a good job snapping it back into place!) So all in all, I made good time getting to Aegrothond. My eagerness to learn - and spring Edward out of prison - spurred me on apace.

Unfortunately, when I arrived there, I found the outer gates locked - and there wasn’t a single guard on duty. I lingered around for a while, waiting for someone to show up and let me in. They say Aegrothond is something of a ghost town - and I can believe it. I began to worry that I’d be late for my lesson. I imagined Miss Serenity waiting for me at her home, wondering what was taking me so long.

Just as I began to grow impatient and annoyed, a wood elf man appeared. I called out to him, asking if he might let me in. He paused when he saw me on the other side of the gate. “Valah or Mali?” he questioned, narrowing his eyes as he peered at me through the slats.

I blinked. Maybe he had trouble seeing me through the gate. “I’m grey, sir,” I said with a soft laugh. “Humans aren’t normally grey, as far as I know…”

The wood elf man sniffed. “You’re sure dressed like one of them.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” I inquired, looking down at my clothing. I was wearing the maroon silk dress and hat that Mary Lucille made for me. The clothes were indeed very Helene in style, but I didn’t see how that would be an issue.

“A friend made it for me. It’s not very nice of you to say that…”

The wood elf fixed me with a cold glare. “I’ll say whatever I want, especially to you traitor mali who act like valah,” he spat.

Suddenly, there came a voice from behind me. “You’ve got a lot of nerve commenting on others’ clothing when you’re wearing rags.” I turned and saw Miss Serenity standing in the gatehouse, holding a parasol. She acknowledged me with a smile. “My apologies, Tanith. I was out taking a stroll near Siramenor. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh, that’s all right,” I said. “I hope the Glade is regrowing nicely.”

“Little by little,” Serenity replied. She then turned her gaze to the wood elf behind the gate. “Do you plan to stand there and gawk? Or let us in?”

The wood elf seemed cowed by Serenity’s forcefulness. He pulled the lever, opening the portcullis. Serenity folded her parasol and strolled in, motioning for me to follow her. “Don’t pay him any mind,” she whispered to me as we passed by the huffing wood elf. “The uncultured ‘ame think they are the pinnacle of elven society. Dear, your dress is lovely. It’s no one’s business what you wear.”

“I’m trying to be more elf-like,” I said as she led me through the streets toward her home. “But it’s hard. There are so many things to learn. I wasn’t raised with the culture or… the language or anything like that.”

“Neither was I,” Serenity replied. “I don’t really have a culture to call my own. Not anymore. These days, I bounce from nation to nation, seeing where I can fit in. Today, I make my home in Aegrothond. Tomorrow? We’ll see.”

I felt a pang of sympathy when she said that. Her situation reflected my own. It struck me suddenly how unmoored I had become in just the last few days. For five hundred years, I pledged my life and my loyalty to Oren. I identified primarily as Orenian first and elven second, if at all. Part of my journey toward understanding my elven heritage was finding out what it meant to be an elf in Oren - how to synthesize my identity as a Mali woman with my nationality as an Orenian. Now, due to circumstances beyond my control, I had to flee abroad to Haense for my safety. Because of the Solicitor-General’s report, it now seemed like I might never return to Oren - the place I called home for so many hundreds of years - ever again. The Orenian era of my life had drawn to a close and I was now in the same position as Serenity - trying to find where exactly I fit in.

We arrived at her home, where she unlocked the door and let me inside. “Ivaeri is taking a nap, so I think it’ll just be you and me.”

As soon as she said that, though, a gaggle of Sorvians - their miniature clay golem servants - came scurrying past wearing sweaters! In their tiny hands, they carried all sorts of colorful autumn decorations. Miss Ivaeri appeared with a box full of pumpkins, which she began placing at strategic spots around the home. “Hello, Miss Tanith!” Ivaeri greeted me warmly.

“Decorating for Knox-O-Ween, love?” Serenity asked with a wry smile on her lips. “Is that why you put the Sorvians in sweaters?”

“‘Tis the season!” Ivaeri replied, placing small pumpkins along the shelves. “The little ones deserve to dress up too, don’t you think?”

“They’re too adorable!” I exclaimed, watching the sweater-clad Sorvians scurry around. “Did you make their sweaters yourself?”

“I did!” Ivaeri replied. “I do a bit of tailoring on the side. Don’t let me interrupt your magic lesson, though. Just pay me no mind. I’ll be tossing up some decor for Knox-O-Ween.” I didn’t know what Knox-O-Ween was. It’s not a holiday we celebrate in Oren, as far as I’m aware. So I just let the matter rest.

“That reminds me,” Serenity mused, leaning down to pick up one of the Sorvians. “Would you like one?”

I blinked at the clay golem. “Would I… like one?” I repeated. “To keep, you mean?”

Serenity nodded. “They’re very helpful around the house.”

“Oh, yes!” Ivaeri chimed in. “Companionship, chores, and they even deliver letters.”

“Oh, well…” I murmured, scratching the side of my face. “I don’t… really know how to take care of them. Do they eat? Or… do I need to take them on walks? Should I get them a litterbox?”

Both Ivaeri and Serenity broke into uproarious laughter. They assured me that the Sorvians didn’t need to sleep, eat, breathe, use a litterbox, or take walks. They were created to be happy, helpful, and tireless 100% of the time. They felt no pain. Despite being made of clay, they were fairly difficult to break. Even if they did, all I had to do was paste them back together and they would be fine. I felt relieved having heard that since I can be a little clumsy from time to time. Ivaeri even told me that I could paint my Sorvian if I wanted!

Reassured, I tucked my new pet Sorvian into my purse and we got started practicing our Voidal Translocation.

I’m happy to report that I made progress today. I was able to successfully dematerialize the marble and store it in the Void. And, blessedly, I was able to pull it back out too! Serenity had me practice dematerializing and rematerializing the marble a few times. We cut the lesson off soon after, though. Serenity didn’t want to tire me out. “Everything builds off that singular spell. Now that you’ve got the essentials in place, we can delve deeper into the more complicated magic,” Serenity explained to me. “Next lesson, we’ll start working on some advanced maneuvers.”

“Like shifting?” I asked, hoping not to sound too overeager.

Serenity nodded. “Shifting, blinking, partial translocation, item shifting, group shifting. A lot to look forward to.”

I swallowed hard. Part of me wanted to say - “Well, why not start right now?” The sooner I learned voidal shifting, the sooner I could work on my plan to get Edward out of jail. At the same time, though, I knew I couldn’t rush it - not if I wanted to learn properly. Luckily for me, the Orenian court system is a slow beast. With hope, there will be enough time for me to learn shifting before Edward’s execution.

Before I left, I thanked both Serenity and Ivaeri for having me in their home. As I was heading out the door, Ivaeri made a comment that gave me pause. “You know, you’re not like I imagined,” she said - and those seven words stopped me in my tracks.

“Eh? Not like – pardon?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Was she referring to the fact that I used to be a White Rose? My blood turned icy in my veins as I readied to explain my actions - how I was a different person all those years ago and how I’ve changed over the centuries.

“Oh, well, when I heard you lived in Helena, I mean!” Ivaeri answered - and inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn’t have to justify my service to the Rose today. “Humans haven’t always been very pleasant to us. I thought you’d be more like them, looking down on me and Serenity for our relationship. But you’ve been the exact opposite.”

I smiled. “Oh, well, you know… people used to look down on me and my first husband,” I explained. “He was a human man, you see, and Canonism forbids miscegenation between the races. My current husband is another dark elf, but… well, from my previous experience, I learned not to judge others for whom they loved. And you two seem very happy together.”

“Ugh, Canonism,” Serenity huffed in disgust, rolling her eyes. “It took me a long time to find someone as wonderful as Ivaeri. I won’t listen to anyone who says what we have is wrong.”

“I’m still used to being judged,” Ivaeri sighed. “But you really are a peach, Miss Tanith! …Or was it a pear? A doll?” She laughed and shook her head. “You’re a wonderful Mali.”

I don’t think Miss Ivaeri realized how much her words would mean to me. When she said that, I felt it in my chest. It impacted me physically, stopping my breath for just a moment. Gazing across the room at her, I felt my eyes begin to sting as though I might cry. “Thank you,” I said after a long, quiet moment. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

I thought back to the wood elf who sneered at me through the gate. Learning to be an elf is hard. There’s a lot of things I don’t understand yet. But if Miss Ivaeri thinks I’m a wonderful Mali, then I must be doing something right.

Miss Serenity must have been thinking the same thing. She spoke up again. “Oh, that’s right. If you ever want some clothes to help you fit in better around Aegrothond,” she offered, “Ivaeri is an excellent tailor. She can make you a dress that’s a bit more Mali.”

“Hold on now!” Ivaeri huffed. “I wanted to be the one to offer!”

They’re so cute together, I can hardly stand it! I thanked the couple for their offer and, after some thought, I decided to take them up on it. Miss Ivaeri quickly took my measurements and asked me what colors I liked. I answered pink, of course! I’m looking forward to seeing what Ivaeri makes for me.

Perhaps this whole situation with Oren might have a silver lining. Saying goodbye to Oren is hard - but this is a chance for me to find out who I am in a new setting. With luck, I can grow closer to discovering out the answer to my question.

I want to know who Tanith really is.

When you take away Oren and the White Rose, what’s left?

Well… I’m an explorer. I’m a scholar. A historian. A mage. A wife. And if what Ivaeri said is true, a wonderful Mali.

 

Entry 106 –

1790

Spoiler

I’ve been practicing my Voidal Translocation as much as possible lately. Whenever I’ve got a spare moment, I’m sending items to the Void and pulling them back out. So far, I’ve managed to expatriate a marble, an apple, my wedding ring - and my diary! That’s right, diary! You’ve been into the Void and back! When I first decided to test my abilities on my diary, I felt just a bit worried. What if I withdrew my journal out of the Void… and all the pages were blank? I think I would cry! In order for Voidal Translocation to work successfully, one needs to know the details of the expatriated item intimately. I was afraid that, if I hadn’t memorized the full text, it would be wiped away upon repatriation. Luckily, it seems like my entries were preserved. Good to know! Putting books into the Void won’t erase their contents, even if you don’t have every line committed to memory. What a relief!

This practice is building up toward one thing - getting Edward Napier out of jail. The only trouble is, I don’t know if it’s feasible yet. I can expatriate handheld items just fine, but this is a human being we’re talking about. Living creatures are an entirely different from apples, rings, or books. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt Edward.

I wish I knew more. There are so many questions swirling around in my head. What are the dangers if I fail to translocate Edward? Could he somehow become stuck in the Void? Sever a limb? But I can’t ask Serenity. At least not yet. Serenity and Ivaeri are a lovely couple, but… what would they do if I told them I planned to use translocation to break a friend out of jail? Would they try to stop me?

I still feel like I’m crazy for even considering this! But, no matter what, I have to save Edward’s life! Oh, I hope this will work. Please hang on a little longer, Edward! You’ll be reunited with your wife and children soon, I promise!

In the meantime, though, I have to move on with normal life while I practice. The jailbreak plan is my secret. On the outside, I have to appear as if nothing is different.

I’ve settled nicely into Juan’s old house. It took a few weeks, but I finally finished unpacking my things. Bit by bit, I’m adjusting to life in Haense. The nicest part about living here is that I get to see my friends on a regular basis. Celestine and Otto have a house just up the street. Mr. Rat and his entire family reside here too. The Wicks are a lively bunch, to be sure! Mr. Rat’s niece, Ophelia, gave me a magic card reading at the tavern earlier this week - and it was surprisingly accurate! There’s almost always something going on at the tavern, so that’s where I like to hang around. (I’m trying to avoid drinking, though.)

I want to acquaint myself with the locals, but it’s a bit hard. The Haensi people are gruff and difficult to approach - though everyone I’ve met has been kind to me so far. No one treats me differently because I’m an elf, which is pleasant. Occasionally, in Helena, you’d run across an elf-hater or two. Oddly, I’ve noticed that Haense has a fairly sizeable elven population. I wonder, are they refugees from Siramenor? Fleeing north as larger and larger parts of the coast are compromised by the Inferi?

There’s a nice wood elf lady who tends the bar at the tavern. I wonder if maybe I could make friends with her.

The big news in Haense lately - the thing that everyone is talking about - is the trial of The Crown vs. Boniface. I’ve written about Friar Boniface in my journal before. He always treated me with the utmost respect. Truly, I never knew he was a controversial figure! He struck me as a humble and hardworking old man trying to seek truth and spread his faith. Apparently, he stoked controversy when he published a long diatribe critiquing the Canonist Church. They condemned him as a schismatic. In both Haense and Oren, it’s illegal to try and convert the faithful away from the church. So Boniface stood trial as a heretic. In the end, the Haensi crown ruled against him… and condemned him to death by hanging.

The news of his death upset me. It seems like too harsh of a punishment for the crime. Just a few days ago, I met Friar Boniface in front of the tavern. He spoke kindly to me. He’d read my open letter and supported my cause, comparing my assault to the murder of the High Pontiff Pontian III. Apparently, the Ministry of Justice mishandled that case too and let the guilty parties escape unscathed. It upset me to know this is a pattern in Oren.

Friar Boniface gave me a very useful bit of information. He confirmed that he personally witnessed me enter the palace alongside Ostromir Carrion. I’m desperate for any information that can help solidify the timeline Edward and I developed for the day of my assault. I know Edward told me the truth, but the more sources we can get to back it up, the better. I’ll forever be grateful for what the Friar told me - and I hope he finds peace in the Seven Skies. I lit a candle for him the other night and offered up a little prayer to God. Hopefully, a dark elf’s prayers are worth something to those on high.

In happier news, things with the NGS are going well! We’ve set the dates and made the arrangements for the first Junior NGS field trip! I finished putting up flyers a few minutes ago. Our destination? The Silver City of Haelun’or and its famous Eternal Library! That’s right - the High Elves finally came through! I thought they were giving me the cold shoulder because they didn’t want a bunch of kids mucking up their library. A while back, I left a message for Ms. Aiera Sullas, the head librarian, and she never responded.

Well, imagine my shock when Ms. Sullas made a personal visit to Haense just for us! Thank goodness. The Mushroom Island is so close to Korvassa, it’d probably be foolish to try to visit now. The library will be a much safer destination.

I was having a chat in the tavern with James and Celestine when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Glancing up, I locked eyes with a High Elf lady wearing a sharp waistcoat and spectacles. “Mrs. Vursur?” she inquired, offering her hand for a shake. “Pardon the interruption. Might I borrow you for a moment? My name is Aiera Sullas and I’ve come from the Silver State. I am the Tilruir’indor, or Eternal Librarian.”

“Oh, goodness!” I exclaimed, taking her hand. “Hello there, ma’am! It’s a pleasure to meet you. Did you really travel all this way from Haelun’or?”

“Yes. I meant to contact you sooner,” Ms. Sullas apologized. “However, when we visited the museum on 2 Silver Jubilee, we found it… quite empty.”

I blushed. “Dear me, I suppose… ah… we didn’t leave a forwarding address, did we?”

“I’m afraid not. However, my colleagues informed me that the Northern Geographic Society kept their base of operations here in Haense. Moreso Eastern Geographical Society, at least compared to Haelun’or… But no matter,” Ms. Sullas continued. “I hoped I might find you here - and it seems my intuitions were correct.”

“So long as we’re further north than the Southern Geographical Society,” James quipped.

Celestine giggled and shook her fist. “Damned knockoffs! We’ll get them one day.”

(Just so you know, diary, there’s no Southern Geographical Society. We were fully joking.)

Things in the bar had begun to get a little hairy - Mr. Rat got into a scrape with an old girlfriend, it seemed - so Celestine invited us back to the museum. We sat down in the conference room at the top of the museum tower and hashed out the details of the upcoming field trip. Luckily, Ms. Sullas was quite excited to have our Junior NGS members visit the library! We made arrangements to take a tour of the library and meet the librarians. Ms. Sullas also proposed we play some games to teach children the value of researching - like scavenger hunts through the library for specific books! It promises to be a very fun and exciting field trip!

On top of that, Celestine negotiated an academic partnership between the NGS and the Eternal Library. She offered Ms. Sullas copies of every book we had in our archives and - in exchange - we’d get library cards for all of our NGS members! That means we can check out books from the Eternal Library and even take them home! All in all, it was a very productive and beneficial discussion.

“I must mention, as one of your Mali’aheral cousins,” Ms. Sullas said to me at the end of the meeting, “We read the recent… publication of your incident. It is a deep shame, though not unexpected. Still ah… Tanith, nae hiylun’ayla taeleh’ehya.”

I didn’t know what her words meant, but the intention seemed comforting and, for that, I was grateful. I bowed my head to her in thanks. “I just hope it will be resolved soon,” I replied. “All I want now is to free our friend Edward from jail.”

“He was jailed?” Ms. Sullas’ eyebrows shot up. “Valah ito ikruan, bah!”

I don’t know what that meant either, but it sounded a good deal more insulting.

It shocks me how many people read my letter. I’ve received words of sympathy from all around the world - Norland, Aegrothond, Haense, Haelun’or. Everyone has been so kind to me. It makes me think that, maybe, the letter did have some impact. Even if nothing changed in Oren, thousands of people read what happened to me - and they believe me. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

 

Entry 107 –

1790

Spoiler

The older I get, the more I worry there might be something seriously wrong with me - though I don’t know what. I’ve been aware for a while that huge chunks of my memory are just… missing. That’s why I started keeping this diary, after all. The thought of forgetting made me afraid. If I wrote down everything that happened from day to day, I’d be in no danger of losing my memory. Because even if my mind forgot - the pages would remember.

A memory came back to me today and it left me disturbed. I can’t sleep because I kept thinking about it. The lights are low and Icroth is lying next to me as I write this. The question that won’t stop bothering me is… how much do I actually remember about the past? And how much did I simply… invent in my own head? How much of these things I remember are imaginary?

The truth is, I don’t know.

…

We had our yearly NGS meeting today. For our main topic, we discussed the growing problem of the Inferi. It’s becoming apparent to everyone - not just the NGS - that this is yet another world-ending threat. There’s no denying it. So we must make ready for departure. We’ve already begun the process of packing up our exhibits and preparing them for transport. Celestine unveiled plans for a steamship built by Otto which will ferry us to… well, wherever it is we end up going next.

“I took Napier’s advice when he mentioned we should construct a ship,” Celestine said as she unfurled the plans for us to see. “But I didn’t trust the Imperial Navy, so Otto and I hired shipwrights out of our own pocket and had the vessel built in secret. I’m glad we did, especially since our relationship with the Empire is so tenuous now. At last, the ship is complete - and we can rest assured our archives and our collection will be preserved.”

I sighed, resigned to the fact that I’d have to uproot my entire life yet again. Every time something like this happens, I just keep asking - when is it going to end? Am I going to live my entire 900-year life enduring an apocalypse every century like clockwork? Eventually, we’re going to run out of places to go! The world isn’t big enough to keep running forever. One day, we’re going to have to dig in our heels and refuse to budge. It might not be this century… or the next century… or even the century after. But there will come a day when the Descendant races are cornered. We’ll either have to fight back with everything we’ve got… or go extinct.

But for now, it’s the same old tiresome process of uprooting our entire society and moving it somewhere unknown.

Celestine had some less grim announcements too, thank goodness. Karl Amador won his bid for Maer of New Reza, which is exciting. It’s always good to have friends in high places. She told everyone about our newly-forged relationship with the Eternal Library of Haelun’or too. Everyone seemed excited by the upcoming field trip and our recently-solidified academic partnership. Finally, we inducted two new members into the NGS Circle - Mr. Rat and James Chapel! Of course, I voted ‘aye’ on both of them. With that, Celestine adjourned the meeting.

I went home after that and spent a few hours tending to chores - laundry, cleaning, that sort of thing. I want to keep Juan’s home in nice shape. It’s my way of honoring his memory. After tending to my usual household duties, I went out to run some errands - picking up groceries for dinner and the like.

While I was out, I noticed James and Chirr lingering around the tavern. They were sitting at a table and chatting with a pair of high elves. Of course, I went over to introduce myself to their new friends! “Tanith, have a seat. Meet Syrivir and Vulln’maelu,” James said as I approached. “They’re thinking of joining the NGS. Celestine wanted us to interview them.”

“Pleased to meet you!” I said, setting my grocery basket aside and sitting down.

Vulln’maelu nodded to me with a smile. “At your service, kind llir,” he said, tilting his head toward me. “Your friends mentioned you are a water evocationist. We have that in common.”

“Really? It’s a bit of a rare art these days!” I exclaimed.

“Indeed it is. They said you teach. I’m considering taking on some students myself to spread the practice,” Vulln replied.

“I’ve met some very lovely people by hanging out my shingle,” I said. “There’s this kindly elf couple who are teaching me Voidal Translocation in exchange for Water Evocation lessons. It’s really a nice arrangement!”

“Ah, I also practice translocation!” Vulln said, lifting an eyebrow. “A most useful art. I used it to rescue Sea Prince Feanor from the jaws of an Inferi during the Siege of Starlight Bay.”

My ears perked up immediately. Suddenly, all my attention was focused on the high elf sitting across from me. “Really?” I asked. “That’s very interesting to hear… I didn’t know you could transport people other than yourself. Is it very difficult?”

Vulln laughed. “Imagine trying to venture through a darkened room using eyes that aren’t your own… and hoping against hope that you emerge in the right place,” he said. “With practice, you can become adept. But difficult? Most assuredly.”

“Oh dear,” I sighed. “When you put it that way, it makes me a little nervous… I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“A broken bone or two is better than death in the claws of an Inferi if you ask me,” Vulln said, shrugging his shoulders. “I use the art sparingly.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t pull someone bodily through the Void unless the circumstances absolutely necessitated it,” I replied. Vulln nodded in response.

Across the table, Chirr fixed me with a curious gaze. It seemed she and I were thinking the exact same thing. Perhaps, as I get closer to enacting the plan, I might be able to enlist Chirr’s help. We’ll see. Before I try to spring Edward out of jail, I need to make sure my skills are ready to handle such a thing. Like Vulln said, a broken bone or two is definitely better than death, but… magic is a fickle beast and you never know when something might go wrong. I’m practicing as much as I can. If only it could go faster!

After that, we chatted about other subjects. Vulln showed off two swords that he forged himself. It appears he’s a blacksmith of sorts. As we were talking, though, something somewhat curious happened to me. Off-handedly, I mentioned that my first husband, Mr. Toov, had been a blacksmith as well. Mr. Toov was a member of a tribe called the Gaesgro - unfortunately now long extinct, I believe. Much of their culture revolved around blacksmithing. I remembered an old Gaesgro tradition that Mr. Toov once told me and decided to share it with the group.

“When mothers of the tribe went into labor,” I explained to them, “the Gaesgro fathers would go out to the forge and create a weapon in honor of the child. The child would use that weapon for life. Mr. Toov had an enormous two-handed claymore that was just as tall as me. His father made it for him on the day of his birth.” I smiled, laughing a little bit. “He was so excited to make a sword for our baby. When I went into labor…”

I stopped myself suddenly, confused. Mr. Toov and I never had a baby… did we? I’d spoken off the cuff without thinking about it. Sitting there at the table, I lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. My mind whirled as it tried to reassemble the memories.

No, we never had a baby. At least that’s what I thought. We tried. God, we tried. After a dozen miscarriages, though, my heart was too broken to try again. Yet…

Yet I suddenly had this distinct memory in my head of giving birth. Not of passing a small, shriveled corpse. No, a live birth to a healthy baby. A baby with hair like yellow silk, eyes like orange embers, and skin as grey as ash. I remembered the painful contractions syncing in time with the clash of the blacksmith’s hammer outside.

Did Mr. Toov and I have a baby? Why… did I suddenly remember it so clearly…?

It was impossible, wasn’t it? How could I have forgotten my own baby? Was I imagining things?

A cold, awful feeling suddenly descended over me, but I tried not to let it show. Instead, I forced a smile and continued with the conversation as though nothing happened. The subject bounced around from topic to topic, but I couldn’t ignore the strange, yawning chasm inside my chest. My thoughts spun in dizzy, painful circles. Did I have a baby? What happened to my baby? Where did my baby go?

Why couldn’t I remember my own child’s face?

Eventually, though, I couldn’t sit and make small talk any longer. I glanced at my pocket watch and made an excuse to leave. James must have noticed my bizarre mood, though, because he offered to escort me home.

My house isn’t too far from the tavern. It’s down a little alleyway between two buildings. One of them is a blacksmith’s forge. Occasionally, in the mornings, I’ll wake up to the clang of a hammer. Cold sweat prickled on my skin as I fumbled through my purse looking for the house keys. When I found them, my hand slipped and I dropped them to the dirt before I could unlock the door.

James stooped to pick them up for me. “Are you feeling all right, Tanith?” he asked, passing the keys over to me.

I took a handkerchief from my purse and gently dabbed my forehead. “Pardon me,” I apologized, smiling a little awkwardly. “My memory plays tricks on me sometimes. I’m too old, you know. I get… confused from time to time.”

James gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s a lot of memory to store in one head.”

I forced a laugh. “Yes, that’s why I keep a diary these days,” I replied. “The longer you live, the more complicated your feelings and memories become. Everything gets all tangled up… More things to look forward to as you age, hm, James?”

“Oh, yes,” James quipped as I turned and unlocked the door. “Things have certainly been much too straightforward as of late. Ah… hrm. Before you go, though, Tanith… I had a question.”

I paused and looked at him. “Oh? Go on?”

James looked askance as a hint of color rose into his ivory-toned face. “I have heard from… some sources… that elven women find longer ears more attractive. Is that correct?”

Tilting my head, I studied him closely. Secretly relieved that he wasn’t pushing me on the subject of my shoddy memory. “…Did Chirr say that?” I inquired, turning fully to face James.

For a full-blooded elf, James’s ears are a little on the small side. Sometimes people mistake him for a half-breed, especially when you take his Helene style of dress into account. Lately, he and Chirr seem to have been getting closer. I wondered if perhaps Chirr mentioned liking longer ears on her men.

James quickly shook his head. “No, it’s just something I’ve heard a few times over the decades.”

“Ah, hmmm…” I hummed, cradling my chin between my thumb and forefinger. “To be honest, James, I might not be the best source for this. If you want to know my deep, dark secret… I largely prefer human men! It’s the beards. For me, at least. So few elf men can grow a good beard. I think I might’ve found the only one.”

“Zodd has a beard,” James observed.

“Aha, that’s true. I forgot he had a beard. Zodd is a little young for me, though, I’m afraid. As fine as his beard might be! He’s only one-hundred.” I chuckled. “But… ah… James, if you want to know what Chirr likes, you really ought to ask her directly.”

James’s nose wrinkled. “I can’t do that,” he lamented. “And besides - if it doesn’t work out with Chirr, I’d be back at square one. I’m looking for… general knowledge, I guess. About women’s preferences.”

“Well, women aren’t a monolith, James,” I replied. “Everyone likes different things. I go weak at the knees for big muscles and full beards, but some women prefer a slimmer figure and a softer face. Either way, though, you really can’t go wrong with being funny, well-groomed, and hygienic. And politeness will get you everywhere.”

That brought a smile to James’ face. “…I do have those going for me,” he said, nodding to himself. “Thank you, Tanith.”

I returned his smile with one of my own. “For what it’s worth, James, I think you’re a very charming and pleasant young man just as you are,” I told him. “And… I don’t know if you’re religious, but God will send you a partner when the time is right. That’s how I found Icroth. God brought him to me when He knew I was ready. So just trust in God and good time… and while you’re waiting, practice your conversation and take regular baths.”

James gave another affirmative nod. “Done and done. Have a good night!” With that, he turned on his heel and strolled off with a confident pep in his step.

I do hope James and Chirr get together. They seem like they could be a sweet couple, given some time and maybe a little nudge. We’ll see. James is a bit young for Chirr. She’s got a head start of several centuries. But I’m double Icroth’s age and we’re doing just fine.

Icroth…

What on earth will I tell him about this new memory I’ve unlocked?

A long time ago, Edward Napier approached me at a party. He told me that he’d gone searching through the Imperial Archives. Among the dry, old, crackling letters, he found mention of one Geralt Toov. Geralt arrived in Petrus in the 15th century and claimed to be descended from an august father in the White Rose.

At the time, I thought it meant Baldir had remarried in Aeldin. He remarried, had children, and forgot about me.

Is it possible I was wrong?

If Geralt was born in the later years of the White Rose – say, around 1420 – then he would have been in his 60’s by the time of the Schism War. In other words, it’s entirely plausible that Geralt Toov was my son.

He visited Petrus. He visited Petrus while I was living there with Mr. Olora. I could have met him. I could have met my baby.

I had a baby who lived… and I never knew him.

What happened? How were we separated? Why don’t I remember him? Why don’t I remember my own child’s face?

Did Geralt have a wife? Did he raise a family? Did he have children? Did his children have children? Did he have grandsons and granddaughters? And great-grandchildren? And great-great-grandchildren? Is there a family somewhere out there in the world with my blood flowing through their veins? Is it possible I could meet them someday?

How will I tell Icroth?

 

Entry 108 –

1791

Spoiler

Icroth has been gone the last several days. My husband is a very single-minded man. He’s determined to master his Xannic abilities by himself one way or another - without the help of the other paladins. We’ve completely cut off contact with Jack. I haven’t heard from him in a long time. Truth be told, I don’t know if he’s even still alive. I have to wonder - was Diomedes ever punished for his senseless murder? Likely not. I’m beginning to lose faith that justice will touch any of these people. Diomedes. Ostromir… It seems this is a world where powerful people can simply do as they like and never face consequences for it. But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

I’m proud of Icroth for going it alone and trying to forge his own path forward. I think he’s doing the right thing. At the same time, though, he spends most of his days out in the wilderness, away from me. I can’t help but be lonesome, especially in this new city where I’m not acquainted with anyone outside of the NGS.

I’ve not yet had the chance to tell Icroth about my recently recovered memories. My hope is to consult his opinion before I do anything. Is it worth it to try and track down my descendants? I sincerely don’t know. They could be anywhere in the world. My family line might have died out any time over the last two hundred and fifty years. If I truly have descendants out there, would they care to meet me? Would they be ashamed of a dark elf polluting their bloodline? Would they even realize who I am?

Maybe it’s better to just leave it be. If I have descendants still living, they’re separated from me by ten generations or perhaps more. In other words, they’re barely related to me at all.

Even so, I want to meet them, if they exist. I’ve gone through life without any family to speak of. Icroth is my only family - and it seems increasingly unlikely that we shall ever have children. Knowing who my descendants are, even if they’re far, far distant relations, would be… nice.

I’m making an effort to be more social, though, to offset my loneliness. Today, I invited Chirr and Celestine over for a little impromptu housewarming party. There’s this adorable confectionery near Celestine’s house that I’ve wanted to try. I’m trying to acquaint myself with Haensi food and develop a taste for it. They say Haense makes some of the best buttercream in all the kingdoms. (It’s made with yak milk! Very… exotic! But delicious!) But I couldn’t eat an entire cake by myself. I’d get sick from the sugar. Luckily, my two friends enjoy sweets!

Chirr arrived first. We sat and chatted for a time by ourselves while she ate her slice of cake. I’d really like to become better friends with Chirr. We’re both close to Celestine, but I’ve not talked with Chirr much individually. It turns out that she and I have a lot in common, though. I admitted to her that I didn’t have many elven friends in the past. It was only recently that I’d started reaching out and trying to form connections with other Mali.

“I never had many elf friends either truthfully. But lately I find myself growing more curious about their culture…” Chirr said as she finished off her cake. “There’s plenty to learn.”

“We’re two of a kind, then!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “I want to understand what it means to be an elf too… It’s hard.” I thought back to the wood elf who had treated me so derisively at Aegrothond. “A lot of them don’t like us humanized elves. It’s a pity. I think we Mali need to be there for each other and teach each other. Growing up among humans… there’s so much that I still don’t know. And so few elves willing to actually teach me.”

“It’s nice,” Chirr chuckled, setting her plate aside. “Finding someone who understands. I always thought of myself as an outsider, but… I guess that’s not necessarily the case.”

“Plenty of elves grew up among humans,” I replied. “You, me, James…”

“Zodd too, right?” Chirr added.

“I think so! Truth be told, I don’t know Zodd very well. Except that he likes collecting weapons and getting into fights,” I replied.

Chirr cracked a grin. “My kind of guy.”

Immediately, I thought of James. “Do you like the warrior types?” I asked, leaning forward a bit in my chair. If James didn’t have the courage to ask Chirr what she liked, well… it seemed like I would have to do it for him.

Chirr’s pale eyebrows lifted. “Hm? I suppose so… I mean, my past husband wasn’t one to back down if provoked. And I guess most men I’ve liked have been the same.”

A long, low exhale escaped my lips. “Poor James.”

“…James?” Chirr echoed, her forehead creasing.

Normally, I make it my policy not to share my friends’ secrets. But in this case, I thought I might try to help James along. Maybe Chirr didn’t know that he liked her. If she understood his feelings, perhaps she might be willing to give him a chance.

I hesitated a moment, thinking of how to phrase it.

“Don’t tell him I told you this,” I prefaced my statement. “But James fancies you. He was asking for advice the other day. Should I tell him to start exercising more?”

A look of blank shock came over Chirr’s face. “James fancies me?” she spluttered. “Me? I’m – three times his age!”

“Icroth is half my age, but we make it work,” I volunteered.

We didn’t have a chance to discuss it further because Celestine showed up at that precise moment with her little daughter Dannika in tow.

She brought some surprising news! She set her cake down on the table and grinned widely as she delivered the good tidings. “You’re just going to love this, you lot!” she began eagerly. “Edward Napier has been released from prison! His appeal was granted just last Saint’s Day!”

Chirr sat up straight in her seat. “That’s spectacular news!”

“Is he cleared of all charges, then?” I asked, my eyes widening.

“Every last one!” Celestine replied. “And, under the Double Jeopardy law, he can’t be charged for the same crime twice.”

I broke into a huge smile - so big I felt my face hurt. “That’s the best possible outcome we could have hoped for!”

“Well, despite this victory, I doubt things will ever be back to normal for him,” Celestine sighed, her good cheer fading. “Not everyone is happy with the court’s decision. Legally, he’s safe. But if he decides to stay with Gragmar - and I’ve no doubt he will - he’ll become a social pariah. I think he and Gragmar are planning to head for the hills. Find someplace where they can be together without judgment.”

“He… really put everything on the line for Gragmar, didn’t he?” I muttered, looking down at my own plate of cake. “That’s true love.”

Dannika, who had been ignoring us boring adults in favor of her cake, piped up at last. “Why did those men hurt you, Auntie Tanith?” she asked suddenly, drawing shocked glances from everyone at the table.

“Danni, darling,” I said softly. “How did you hear about that?”

“I saw a letter you wrote! Mamej had it on her desk!” Danni replied, her face covered in frosting. “You said bad men hurt you and Uncle Teddy! Are you okay? Do I need to go beat them up for you?”

“Don’t worry!” I said, patting her gently on the head. “I’m just fine. The doctors took care of me and now I’m better. Uncle Ted will be all right too.”

Danni grinned. “Okay!”

She’s a surprisingly perceptive and sharp little girl, given how young she is. Celestine’s children inherited her intelligence. I only hope that the letter didn’t scare her too badly, poor thing. It continually surprises me how many people - young, old, human, elf - read my story and believed it. So many unexpected people have offered me sympathy and aid. Truly, I’m grateful.

We talked until the hour grew late and it came time for my guests to head home. Before she left, Celestine gave me another salient bit of information. It seemed Padraig O’Rourke suddenly passed away too - the cause being an unexplained medical affliction. Ostromir Carrion is still at large and it’s unlikely he’ll see the inside of a jail cell, but…

Is it wrong to be a little happy that Padraig is dead?

I hate to rejoice over Padraig’s death. No one in this situation deserved to die. The only thing I wanted was justice and the assurance that he would never hurt anyone else. With his death, as gruesome as it may sound, I have received both. While he escaped punishment here on earth, I’m sure he’s receiving the full consequences of what he did in the afterlife. God is the final judge - and God won’t be fooled by his half-baked falsehoods.

Ostromir… there’s nothing I can do about him. My only satisfaction is that I will outlive him by hundreds of years. One day, he’ll rot in Hell too - and he’ll deserve every last minute of it. As for me? I’ll keep on living and being as happy as I can. Living well is the best revenge, as the old platitude goes.

The Orenian Justice system seems to have worked out in Edward’s favor, though, even if it failed me. He kept his life. But the wretched part is that he and his wife will have to leave Oren. I know very well how much Oren means to Edward. Leaving will break his heart. Even so, living with Gragmar and loving her in peace might be worth it to him. He really would do anything for that orc.

I never would have expected it. How could an upper-class Orenian gentleman find true love with an Orcish tribal? And to have her love him back with equal sincerity and fervor? Perhaps their relationship proves that humans, orcs, elves, and dwarves aren’t as different as they seem. We can love each other despite the vast gulfs of culture and race.

I’m relieved. I won’t have to break Edward out of jail. He’s safe, thank God. I’ll keep learning Translocation, of course, but now I don’t need to rush. I can just take it at my own pace. Perhaps Edward and I can joke about it when I see him next - if I see him next. It should make for a funny story. I wouldn’t blame Edward if he packed up and left the human realms immediately after what that happened, though.

What Ostromir and Padraig did to me changed everything. Now we’ve got to find our new normal. I think I can make a comfortable life here in Haense, but things still feel so uncertain.

Not to mention the matter of the Inferi… Some day soon, the hammer is going to come down. Everyone can feel it. The only question is, when?

 

Entry 109 –

1791

Spoiler

Some years ago, Celestine told me a secret. Out of respect for her privacy, I chose not to write her secret down in my diary. After all, you never know what might happen. I might lose my diary someday or forget it somewhere - and then all the personal details here in these pages would be divulged. Peoples’ secrets are their own business, so I don’t make a habit of memorializing them.

However, today… Celestine’s secret came barging straight through my door.

I was doing my usual chores when I heard a loud knock from downstairs. The sound caught me by surprise because I wasn’t expecting company. The person, whoever they were, kept pounding on my door more and more insistently. Stowing my broom away, I went downstairs to find out just who wanted to get into my house so badly.

With a turn of the key, I found myself face to face with a young stranger. There, on my threshold, stood a boy of sixteen with chocolate brown skin and shaggy dark hair. He kept his long, stylishly unkempt locks tied back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. A blue coat rested upon his broad shoulders, covering a rumpled white shirt that was open at the collar. Earrings hung from his ears and a necklace of handmade beads dangled around his neck. The teenager brushed past me into the living room, not even glancing in my direction. His dark blue eyes scanned the living room and kitchen. “Mama, I’m home,” he said.

“I think you… have the wrong house…” I mumbled, looking the youth over. He seemed strangely familiar, though I couldn’t place my finger on why.

The young man did a double-take, realizing for the first time that I was definitely not his mother. “Eh, wait,” he stuttered. “Who are you? You’re NOT Celestine Herbert. The sign on the door says Celestine Herbert!”

“I just moved in not too long ago,” I explained. “We haven’t changed the sign yet. Wait… Celestine? Mama? Celestine is your mother?”

“Si, si,” the dark-skinned youth replied. All at once, I recognized him. The cant of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the black of his hair, the brown of his skin - why, he could easily pass for a young Juan Lyons!

My jaw dropped as I realized who he was. “It… can’t be,” I breathed. “Can it? You’re Juan’s son!”

The teenager wrinkled his nose and waved his hand as if I’d said something patently obvious that shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone. “Eeh. Si. Where’s my mother’s house?”

I scurried across the floor toward him and took him by the wrists. “You must be Alejandro!” I nearly shouted, overcome with delight. The words came spilling out of my mouth in a deluge. “I can’t believe it! You look just like your father! I’m Tanith! Did Celestine ever mention me? I’m your godmother!”

Celestine’s secret - the one she told me those many years ago - was that she and Juan had conceived a child shortly before Juan’s death. They made love the night he proposed… and she was only a few weeks along when he died fighting the Scyflings. Neither of them knew she was pregnant at the time of his death. It was only later that Celestine realized. Grieving and single, she didn’t have the capacity to care for the baby by herself.

Though it wracked her with guilt to do so, she handed Alejandro off to more capable carers. She sent him to a boarding school. It was her intention to bring him home once she and Otto got married and established. However, by the time she and Otto tied the knot, Alejandro was already a teenager and Celestine was loathe to interrupt his education.

Celestine cried in my arms the day she confessed to me about Alejandro. She felt so sick with guilt over abandoning him. Her own mother had done the same thing to her - and she never wanted another child to grow up feeling unwanted. Yet she didn’t know what else to do in her situation. A woman raising a child alone would invite scorn and judgment. She and Juan were engaged to be married, but they’d still conceived Alejandro out of wedlock.

I’ve wanted to meet Alejandro for a long while now. I couldn’t believe he was standing right here in front of me, in my own house.

I wanted to bring him straight to Celestine, but I haven’t seen her in the last few weeks. She’s been surprisingly scarce. Instead, I decided to take Alejandro to the tavern where we could sit down and become better acquainted with one another. Honestly, I couldn’t stop staring at him! He was like the ghost of Juan Lyons! I didn’t realize how much I’d missed Juan until Alejandro suddenly showed up on my doorstep.

At the tavern, we got ourselves a table and sat down. James was there having a drink and opted to join us. As we chatted, I asked Alejandro about his sudden reappearance. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for two more years,” I said. “I thought you graduated at eighteen. Did you get your diploma early?”

Alejandro grimaced and made a slight wiggle with his hand. “Eh. No. A… disagreement with the headmaster of the boarding school. Little bit of a fight. Ended with me… getting kicked out.”

“Kicked out?” My eyes widened. “Why?”

“Ay caray, is not that big of a deal! I am a grown man, as you see,” Alejandro huffed, taking a sip of his drink. “I am ready to take on the world by myself. No school is needed. I have already got work at the Imperial Court. Lady Blanche, she has a job for me.”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“What do you think? I make maps!” Alejandro shrugged. “Is family business, so that is what I do. My father, he was a good mapmaker. But I will tell you now I am much better!”

“You really are exactly like him,” I marveled. “You’ll come back and visit us here in Haense, won’t you.”

Alejandro’s nose wrinkled. “I will not stay long,” he replied. “I do not want to meet my stepfather.”

“Why?” I inquired, my brow furrowing. “Otto is a lovely man!”

Alejandro suddenly slammed his fist down on the table. “Because HE made my mother send me to that awful boarding school! He was jealous of my father. His Adunian children had their great life here while he packed me up and shipped me off!” the young Lyons declared angrily. “If I see him, I will kill him!”

“What? Why, Alejandro, that’s not true!” I replied, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Otto Wittenbach would never do such a thing! You haven’t met him yet, but… well, he’s a very gentle fellow! Celestine is the one who wears the pants in their family… He does whatever she tells him.”

Alejandro frowned and sat back in his chair, contemplating what I had said.

“Cellie was so young when she had you, Alejandro,” I continued. “She couldn’t take care of you by herself. Especially after what happened to your father. It was so tragic. Please don’t hold a grudge against her and Otto.”

“You don’t want to get hanged for murdering your stepfather either,” James, who had been quietly sipping his wine up until now, added.

“It’s not murder if it’s justified,” Alejandro grunted, downing the rest of his drink and abruptly standing up. The legs of his chair squeaked on the hardwood floors and I’m certain they must have left a scratch. “I don’t want to speak of this anymore. Hasta la vista to you both.”

With that, he turned and hurried off before either one of us could stop him.

I looked at James across the table. “I… bungled that pretty badly, didn’t I?”

James just shrugged. “Teenagers,” he said.

James and I spent a little while talking after Alejandro left. He asked me for some advice on how to best take care of Luna, his adopted daughter. It turns out that he’s moving back in with his playwright friend, which made me a little concerned. When last I heard about James and his playwright friend, she had kicked him out onto the street. James claimed that they moved out because of a burglary, but I saw through that flimsy story immediately. Honestly, it doesn’t sound as though he and Ms. La Fleur have the healthiest of relationships. I didn’t much like the thought of James getting his daughter involved in that mess. So I told him - if he ever found himself on the street again, regardless of circumstances, I would be more than happy to let him and Luna stay with me.

When I arrived home later that day, I was still thinking about Alejandro. I don’t blame him for being upset with Celestine. If it were me, I would be upset too. No child wants to grow up separated from his or her family. Of course Alejandro feels abandoned and neglected. On the other hand, Cellie had no option but to do what she did. She had to make the choice that was best for both her and Alejandro at the time. Celestine didn’t have the capacity to care for him as a grieving, single mother - so she gave him to people who did.

Can we expect a teenager to understand that, though?

I’m Alejandro’s godmother, so I want to have a good relationship with him. I hope he and I can become friends. Maybe I can help him understand his mother’s perspective. All of Celestine’s children are dear to my heart. Truly, I love them as if they were my own. With hope, Alejandro will come to love the rest of the family as I do.

 

Entry 110 –

1791

Spoiler

I’ve just arrived back home from Haelun’or. I’m glad to report that the first Junior NGS field trip was a wonderful success! It didn’t go exactly as planned, but I think everyone who attended still had a good time. At least that’s my hope!

We started our field trip at the Flagship Museum in New Reza. As the head chaperone, I got there early and waited around to greet the children as they arrived. As the hour of our departure ticked closer and closer, my anxiety began to spike. What if no one showed up? What if I had to send a letter to the Eternal Librarians canceling the trip? I wrung my hands and watched the door like a hawk.

The first child to arrive was little Eliza Wittenbach - one of my goddaughters! She is Celestine’s eldest child, not including Alejandro.

Up until recently, Eliza had been away studying at the same boarding school as Alejandro. With Alejandro’s return, however, Celestine pulled her out of school and brought her home. I was glad to see her again - and it seems the feeling was mutual! Eliza came stampeding into the museum lobby and threw her arms around my waist. “Auntie Tanith!” she shouted cheerily. “I’m so excited for the field trip!”

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Eliza. My, she’s grown into such a well-spoken young lady! It seems like just yesterday I was holding her in my arms as a baby. Time always amazes me with how quickly it passes. Eliza seems to have enjoyed boarding school much more than Alejandro did. Like her mother, she possesses a keen natural intellect. If Alejandro is Juan reborn, then Eliza is definitely a younger reflection of Celestine.

Only one other little boy showed up for the field trip. His name was Friedrich Barclay - a blonde Haensi lad from the esteemed Barclay family. I don’t know the Barclays very well, but their kinsmen hold some positions of high authority in the kingdom. I made sure to treat him with as much respect as I thought appropriate.

Surprisingly, we had several adults attend the field trip. We only had two children… but about eight grown-up chaperones! Celestine’s mother, Red, dropped by - as well as Celestine’s half-sister Aidevo. Chirr and James attended, of course! Otto too. He wanted to spend some father-daughter time with Eliza. Alejandro tagged along with us for a short time, but eventually, he broke away and wandered off by himself. (Teenagers!)

Once the group was gathered, we set off for the Silver City. About halfway there, we stopped to have a picnic in a flower field near Helena. It was the first time I’ve been in the Crownlands since my assault - and I can’t say it didn’t make me a little nervous. Nothing worth reporting happened, though. We enjoyed our lunch in peace and then continued along the road to Haelun’or.

Mrs. Sullas greeted us at the gates. I introduced her to the children and, from there, she led us to the Eternal Library. We started our visit with a tour. Eliza and Friedrich were both heartily impressed by the giant, fiery sigil that hangs in the center of the library lobby. Mrs. Sullas explained that the sigil prevents fire from spreading in the building. Their collection has unfortunately burnt down in ages past, so they must now take great care to preserve the books on their shelves. She showed us the children’s section and the poetry section before guiding us downstairs via the telekinetic elevator. The second floor boasted impressive selections on science and culture. Below, in the library basement, lay the Thaumaturgy wing - hundreds of tomes regarding magic and mystical creatures.

After the tour, Mrs. Sullas spoke briefly about the founding of the Eternal Library. It originated in Asulon. The High Elves discovered the ancient ruins of a library on an island and set about restoring it to greatness. They believe the library was created by one of their ancestors, an elf named Larihei who was among the first High Elves to emerge from the Golden Pools.

We finished our visit with a very fun game! Mrs. Sullas gave us a list of questions and asked us to search the library for answers. The questions were very simple - such as ‘Find a book about your favorite animal’ or ‘Find a book that takes place in a capital city.’ She offered the first place winner a library card, which would allow the children to check out and take home any book they liked. I played too, but Eliza and Friedrich ran circles around me! I suppose it’s proof that I’m getting older. Eliza took home the library card, which I’m sure will make her mother very proud.

We all won a gift for participating, though, which was a book of our choice from the library. I couldn’t decide what book I wanted right then and there. Lucky for me, Mrs. Sullas said I could come back and pick one later.

All in all, it was a nice day and a successful first field trip! The only real issue was a lack of interest from Haense’s children. Eliza and Friedrich seemed to enjoy the outing, but no other children came. I wonder if it was the choice of destination. Maybe children think libraries are too boring. We had great fun on our field trip, but maybe we’ll pick a more thrilling location for the next one. A camping trip in an exotic locale, perchance! The only trouble with traveling right now is the Inferi… You never know where they might strike next.

 

Entry 111–

1792

Spoiler

When I think of Haelun’or, I don’t necessarily picture it as a cheerful place. High Elves usually portray themselves as a humorless and dour group, focused entirely on intellectualism and sorcery. They sit atop tall mountains behind alabaster walls and aren’t concerned with the preoccupations of us little people down on the ground. It’s hard to imagine them letting loose and having a good time, yet it seems they’re rather festive actually! Little by little, I’m learning that my preconceptions about other elves are wrong. Wood elves aren’t savages. High elves aren’t gloomy, isolationist scholars. Though… perhaps the less we say about the dark elves, the better. I still haven’t forgotten what I saw in Renalia.

Anyway, I attended a Knox-O-Ween festival at Haelun’or this past Saint’s Week! I’m still not precisely sure what Knox-O-Ween is, but it seems to involve a lot of pumpkins, candy, and dressing up in silly costumes. Celestine, Otto, Chirr, and I decided to go in matching Wonk outfits - all in different colors! Celestine commissioned them special for us. Otto was pink, Cellie was green, Chirr was yellow, and I was blue! Normally, I’d insist on wearing the pink costume but Otto really seemed to want it. Blue suits me nicely too! Our costumes were probably the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn - so fleecy and soft! I hugged Chirr once during the evening and it felt like hugging a giant stuffed animal!

We arrived at Haelun’or to find the city square decked out for Knox-O-Ween. They had Knox-O-Lanterns scattered everywhere, glowing cheerily in the deepening evening. Black and orange streamers fluttered from the spires. The elves had set up games throughout the square. On one side stood a test-your-strength machine where you swung a hammer to hit a bell. (Chirr won, of course!) On the other side, they’d filled cauldrons full of water and juicy red apples. If you managed to grab an apple without using your hands, you’d win a prize! Edward Napier attended the party too (separate from us, as a guest of Miss Seregon) and he simply dominated at the apple bobbing game! Who would’ve guessed?

A lady in a pirate costume sat in a booth and told fortunes using enchanted cards. My fortune was surprisingly accurate. She told me that I had a new position of authority - it’s true! I’m Chief of Research in the NGS now! - and that I would need to accept help if I wanted to excel at my job. I’ll be certain to take her advice into account. There was also a simple double-or-nothing betting game. I bet 90 marks and doubled my money!

The main events of the festival included a drinking contest, a pumpkin carving contest, and a costume contest. Celestine and Chirr both got quite drunk, but I avoided the drinking contest due to my issues with alcohol in the past. Chirr could really put it away, though! She endured all the way to the final two, which I thought was very impressive. Chirr has the constitution of an ox! Later in the evening, I tried my hand at pumpkin carving. My frog pumpkin - which I made in honor of our costumes - took home third place. Not too shabby for a first-timer, if I do say so myself!

The prize for the costume contest was 5000 minas. We - the Wonks - competed against a group of Haensi teenagers dressed as pumpkins. The pumpkin costumes were impressive, but the wonks prevailed! We claimed victory by a single vote and each went home 1250 minas richer!

It turned out to be a delightful evening - not to mention a profitable one. We saw a lot of our friends at the party too. Red and Aidevo were in attendance. Red is pregnant, which shocked me a little! You would think that, at age two-hundred, she would be done having children - but you’d be wrong. Celestine apparently has quite a number of siblings and half-siblings. Red tells me that she and her partner have an open relationship - which I’ll admit I don’t fully understand, but it’s also not my business. I’ve never been able to wrap my mind around the concept of loving more than one person at a time. Speaking personally, I am quite monogamous… and I get terribly jealous if Icroth pays attention to other women. I think I’d cry and throw a fit if he ever asked for a second girlfriend or wife! But if Red and her partner are both happy with the arrangement, I have no right to judge.

Alejandro dropped by as well, although he didn’t wear a costume. I saw Celestine and Otto talking with him near the gate. Cellie looked rather irate, with her arms folded as a frown on her face. I think this was the first time she’s seen him since he arrived back home. I imagine he got quite the scolding. (Just think - the first time you see your mother in months and she’s wearing green frog pajamas.) Hopefully, Alejandro’s given up on trying to kill his stepfather. Otto is a lovely fellow. I had my doubts when Cellie decided to marry him seemingly apropos of nothing, but… their marriage is happy and functional. I’m sure it will take some time for Alejandro to sort out his feelings, but… I have faith he’ll learn to love his family. They’re good-hearted people who just want what’s best for him.

I also saw Serenity and Ivaeri at the festival, but I didn’t get a chance to speak with them. They arrived just as we were leaving. I’ve been continuing my translocation lessons with them. In fact, we had a lesson that same day earlier in the afternoon. I left their house in Aegrothond and went immediately to Reza to get ready for the festival. My studies are progressing swiftly. We’ve moved onto shifting, which is a great deal more difficult than translocating inanimate objects. I’ve yet to master it, but practice makes perfect.

Ivaeri also gave me the dress she promised! I didn’t wear it to the festival - since I was dressed as a wonk - but it’s beautiful and it fits like a glove! It’s exactly my style too. Plenty of pink and very sweet! James says the dress makes me look 100 years younger. (He was going to attend as the purple wonk, but he didn’t show up… perhaps he was just shy? Maybe he didn’t want Chirr to see him looking silly.)

Is it alright to have such fun with the end of Arcas looming ever closer? Everyone can feel it. Something bad happened to Haelun’or recently. For several years now, the city has been protected by draconic wards created by the dragon Azdromoth. A few days before the Knox-O-Ween festival, the wards collapsed and fell to the earth in a fiery explosion. You could see the still-burning wards from the city, lying in pieces among the broken evergreens. They added an eerie glow to the black nighttime sky. Nobody mentioned it at the festival and the High Elves didn’t seem too concerned, but… those wards were the city’s primary defense against the Inferi. It’s worrying that they’re no longer functional. I wonder if Azdromoth intends to replace them. What caused them to fall in the first place?

There’s not much we ordinary people can do about the Inferi, though, aside from going on with our daily lives. It feels strange. I feel like I ought to be… doing something. If I’d stayed with the Paladins on board the Queen Dawn’s Revenge, I’d be on the front lines right now. Should I have remained with them if it meant I might help resist the Inferi? Just… looked the other way when they murdered that survivor? But we can’t lose our morals, even during wartime. What they did to that survivor was wrong, plain and simple. The Inferi are monsters without any sense of morality or goodness. If we sink to their level, how are we any better than them?

There is the awful, lingering feeling that fighting against the Inferi is futile. Historically, when threats like this arise, all we can do is turn tail and run. Is it better to fight and lose more lives? Or save as many people as we can and flee while there’s still something left to save?

I’ve said it before, but eventually, the Descendants will run out of places to go. It’s a matter of when not if. We’ve fought and failed every time. History doesn’t set a hopeful precedent. We can’t keep running forever, but what if running is truly the only option?

 

Entry 112 –

1792

Spoiler

After the incident with Ostromir Carrion, I gave up hope of ever fixing my ears. The last time I tried to find someone to help me, I ended up beaten and tortured in the basement of the Orlov house. I ignited an international controversy. I had to leave my home and my career behind, move to a different country, and face interrogation from the highest legal authorities in Oren.

Fate had given me a very painful lesson - and that lesson was perhaps to just leave my ears alone. Three hundred years ago, I made the mistake of chopping the tips off with a butcher knife. God showed me that I needed to live with my error.

Until today.

We’ve got a lead on someone who might be able to regrow the tips of my ears. I can hardly believe it. I’m so thrilled, I can barely hold my pen. My hand is shaking in anticipation. I keep peering at the mirror and imagining the beautiful, long, slender ears I used to have. For centuries, I’ve been a mutilated elf. Is it really possible I could be whole once again?

Be calm, Tanith. We mustn’t get our hopes up too high. But oh! I can’t help but hope!

I’ll begin my story earlier today -

Celestine and I met this afternoon to continue our magic lessons. James Chapel sat in and observed. He once expressed an interest in magic to me and wanted to see evocation in action.

Cellie’s been practicing by herself in the meantime and has more or less mastered how to summon voidal water. I’m proud of her! However, creating ice proved to be a major stumbling block. Ice is very tricky, so I don’t blame her for struggling.

Voidal magic is the process of harnessing raw arcane energy and shaping it into a usable, tangible form. It’s no coincidence that ancient mages developed fire evocation first. Fire is pure heat and light. Because of that, fire is considered the easiest form of evocation to learn. It only takes a little bit of mana to shape the raw voidal energies into fire. Lightning is similar. Lightning is like fire, but superheated and focused into a beam rather than a conflagration. Evocation becomes quite a bit trickier, however, when you’re asked to form the voidal energy into a touchable, physical state. I think that’s why fire and lightning have more practitioners than water and earth.

To create water, you have to bind the energies tighter together. It takes greater effort, as well as a deep understanding of how water forms and flows. The particles that form water are close, but not connected. They slide past one another. Their movements are calmer and smoother than the excited sparkle that animates fire and lightning.

When you want to form ice, though, you need to structure the energies into a static, unmoving state. Ice is made up of interlocking crystals. They no longer flow. They’re rigid, delicate, intricate, geometric. It’s the exact opposite of the gentle ebb and cascade of water. That’s what makes ice evocation so difficult. You have to alter the fundamental structure of the voidal energies. I think that’s also why earth evocation is one of the more difficult forms of magic to master. It’s taking pure energy and forcing it to become something solid.

Cellie struggled with forming ice for a while, but eventually, she was able to conjure a few snowflakes. I’m sure that, with enough practice, she’ll be able to summon ice in no time. She wanted to master water evocation before we took another dive into the Nether. If she and I could cover for each other - give each other a break to rest every now and then - I’m sure we could go even further into the Nether than before.

After the lesson, Cellie mentioned that she was going to visit Miss Seregon in Haelun’or. She wanted to return an artifact that we ended up not displaying in the museum (the preserved heart of a feral elf). She invited James and me to tag along. We met Chirr on the road and she decided to join us as well.

Miss Seregon greeted us when we arrived in the Silver City. Normally, Miss Seregon is very easygoing and quirky. Today, however, she seemed off. When Celestine asked what was bothering her, she ushered us into a private room away from the square. “No one in the government is ******* listening to me,” she hissed in a harsh whisper. “I am harassed and demeaned for being a follower of Azdromoth… and even HE cannot save us from this disease!”

“Disease?” Celestine inquired, but Miss Seregon waved her off.

“I’ve said too much,” Miss Seregon replied. “My ability as a doctor is being put to the test. But Haelun’or shall endure. It always has. Thank you for returning the heart. It was the prize of my collection.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Celestine continued, her eyes brightening with remembrance. “I wanted to ask you something, Dele. You are one of the most gifted healers I know. Do you think there would there be any way to restore my friend Tanith’s ears?”

I perked up, my eyes darting toward Miss Seregon. My breath caught in my throat as I awaited her response.

“I wouldn’t be capable of such a thing,” Miss Seregon replied… and my heart sank into my stomach. But then she said something that immediately restored my hope. “But I know of someone who can. Fiil’Yar, the elven shamaness.”

Fiil’Yar!

I’ve not mentioned Fiil before in my diary, but I’m familiar with her. She and I aren’t much more than acquaintances. I’ve only met her once, incidentally. Celestine talks about Fiil often, though. Fiil is an elf who was raised among the orcs. She climbed through the ranks of orcish society and became one of their most respected leaders - a Dominus, the right hand of the Rex. Supposedly, she is an expert on medicinal alchemy and shamanism. They say Fiil is able to re-attach severed limbs and, in some cases, regrow them from nothing. Celestine met Fiil while researching for her ethnography on Krugmar and the two became fast friends.

Was the solution to my problem right under our noses the entire time?

Celestine thanked Miss Seregon heartily for the recommendation. From there, the four of us headed home - though we made plans to venture south to Krugmar soon.

I’m equal parts thrilled and worried. Thrilled because I might have pointed ears again soon. Finally, the damage I did to myself those centuries ago can be undone. The scars of the White Rose will no longer haunt me. Yet… I’m worried because Fiil’Yar is a tribal shaman. Orcs make me uneasy. I can’t help it. Their rituals are pagan and strange. Some involve acts of flesh-and-blood sacrifice. Fiil might be an elf, but… for all intents and purposes, she’s just like an orc. What kind of dark ritual will she enact to restore my ears to their natural state? What will she require of me in exchange?

Though… I suppose anyone is better than Ostromir Carrion. If Celestine trusts Fiil, then I will too.

 

Entry 113 –

1793

Spoiler

Life in Haense has been quiet lately, but peace and quiet isn’t a bad thing by any means. Icroth remains somewhat scarce. He drops by for an evening here and there, but mostly I live on my own.

We haven’t had a good moment to properly discuss my regained memories - or the possibility that I have descendants somewhere out there in the world. Lately, I’ve begun to wonder if it even matters. The Toovs may have died out long ago. I’ll occasionally hear old names spoken in the market square - DeNurem, for example, or Othaman or Barbanov - but most of the old Great Houses have faded away with time. If what Edward said is true, we haven’t seen a Toov on the historical record since the 15th century.

My baby, Geralt…

It must have been the trauma of losing him that caused me to block the memory. We tried so hard to have a baby, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. When it finally happened, we were elated. God granted us a miracle. The more my thoughts dwell on Geralt, the more little pieces come back to me. He had yellow hair, the same as his father, and eyes the color of cinders. Born grey, though the pigment faded as he got older. The love I felt for him was so monumental, it threatened to tear me apart. It burst out of every part of me like an ongoing explosion and I couldn’t hope to contain it. My entire being centered around loving that child - caring for him, educating him, rearing him, disciplining him sometimes too.

Then the Great Exodus happened. I got left behind by accident and I lost him. I lost my baby - the baby I had prayed endlessly to have, the baby I wanted more than anything - and I never saw him again.

I couldn’t live with that agony, so… I put it aside. I blocked it out. I did what I could to keep living.

I wonder if we ever walked past each other on the streets of Petrus, unknowing. I wonder how he felt about me. Did he miss me? Did he hate me? Did he even realize I existed? Is it selfish of me to want to meet my descendants? I know what Icroth will tell me - that I’d be wiser to leave it alone. That by reopening the door, I’m inviting in hundreds of years of heartbreak.

A tragic part of elven life is that… you often have to close the doors of memory and lock them tight, never to reopen them again. Our life histories are so long and complicated that putting events aside and simply moving on is the only way to live. If we let our tragedies and old heartaches keep piling up, we wouldn’t survive the avalanche when they tumbled down upon us. We’d end up killing ourselves from the weight of the pain. Maybe that’s why elves tend to go insane as they grow older. You either compartmentalize the sadness - bottle it up, stow it away, seal it behind a door - or you let it overwhelm you.

I suppose that’s why I try to think about the present or the future as much as possible. The past is a series of dark, narrow, winding corridors filled with ghosts and monsters. Whereas the future is a bright, open, unspoiled expanse. As endless as the sea and sky, stretching boundless in every direction.

I’ll never know my children. But I can love and rear the children of today. Like Dannika, my goddaughter.

She’s such a good little girl. I was sitting outside the tavern today journaling when she bounced up to me with a sweet smile on her face. “Tante Tanith!” she exclaimed, clambering onto the bench beside me. “Ich vant to make Mamej a present, but Ich need vy help!” (Her accent is so cute - a mix of Haensi and Waldenian dialects.)

“What kind of present, dear?” I asked her, reaching over to ruffle her dark hair.

“Ich vant to interview ze Monarchs of Haense and prezent it to mein mamej and ze NGS!” Dannika replied, her eyes glittering. “But Tante Tanith, ich need vy help!”

“Your Mamej would love that!” I exclaimed. “What can I do to help?”

“Ich don’t know how to talk vith zhe royal people…” Dannika admitted, glancing away shyly and toying with her hair. “Is kind ov scary.”

I smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry, dear. The royalty here in Haense are humble and kind. They want to be treated the same as everyone else,”

As if on cue, the queen of Haense - Isabel Barbanov - happened to be strolling past with her retinue. I believe she was taking a daily constitutional with her handmaids and servants.

“Ah, look!” I whispered to Danni, drawing her attention to the queen. Sensing an opportunity, I rose to my feet and gestured for Dannika to follow me. Danni turned pale and averted her eyes. I took the little girl’s hand in mine and we approached the queen together. Normally, I too am a bit shy and nervous around royalty. Being with Dannika made me feel braver, though. I had to set a good example for my goddaughter.

As we drew near the queen and her retinue, I cleared my throat. “Your Majesty?” I called before dipping into a curtsy. Dannika mimicked me. Queen Isabel turned to face us. “Would you mind chatting with us for a moment if you’re not busy?”

The queen smiled - a beautiful and graciously elegant smile. “Not at all. How may I help you, ladies?”

“My name is Tanith Vursur and I work with Celestine Herbert at the NGS,” I introduced myself. “This is my goddaughter, Dannika Wittenbach.”

“Ahh, I’ve heard about you, Mrs. Vursur,” Queen Isabel replied - and I blushed. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten rather famous since the incident with Ostromir and Padraig. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you as well, young lady.”

“Dannika wanted to ask if she could interview you,” I explained.

The queen blinked. “Oh, I’ve never been interviewed before,” she mused - and let out a ladylike giggle. “I would love to answer your questions. Shall we go talk in the palace garden?”

And that’s how Dannika Wittenbach and I ended up in the Ekaterinburg Palace gardens with Queen Isabel Franziska Barbanov. I won’t rehash the entire interview here since I’m sure it will be published soon. I’ll say, though, that I was impressed with the intelligent questions Danni asked! I expected a young girl to inquire about childish things, but Dannika posed some unexpectedly difficult and complex queries! Queen Isabel took each one in stride and answered eloquently as expected of a monarch. Celestine is going to be so proud of her daughter. The Wittenbach children are all so bright for their ages! Future leaders and scholars, every one of them!

After the interview, we bid our goodbyes to the Queen. I walked Dannika home and gave her some advice on how to write up the interview. She took my suggestions quite seriously and wrote down thoughtful notes.

After I dropped her off, I made my way back to my house. And who should I find waiting near my door but Zodd Calliban?

“Tanith, there ye are,” he said, looking up as he heard my footsteps. “I saw ye outside th’ tavern earlier and wanted t’ talk, but ye ran off with th’ lil’ Wittenbach girl before I got th’ chance. So I waited ’round here. Ye got a minute?”

“Certainly. Would you care to come inside?” I asked him, gesturing to the door.

“Thought I might take th’ opportunity to invite ye ‘round my place,” he replied. “It’s not far.”

I followed Zodd back to his home - which is actually quite close to the NGS flagship museum. When he unlocked his door and turned on the lamp, I was shocked to see four massive direwolves lying on the carpet in his living room! “Don’t mind th’ pack,” Zodd said quietly, directing me toward a small table and a few chairs. “They may be big, but they’re friendly. Cuddly bunch o’ buggers.” He pointed to each direwolf in turn. “Attila, Charles, Falk, an’ Matthew. Attila is th’ biggest. He’s th’ leader.”

I carefully stepped over the large wolves and made my way over to the table. Sitting down, I folded my hands in my lap and turned to Zodd. “So, why did you want to talk with me?”

He poured us some refreshments and sat down across from me with a grunt. His eyes fell to the wood grain on the table. He cleared his throat.

“Right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Lately, I’ve felt… funny. There’s this girl. When I look at her, it makes me feel… strange. And I’m not rightly sure what to do.”

I clapped my hands to my cheeks. “Oh, Zodd! You’re in love!”

He grimaced. “Great. That’s what I was afraid of,” he sighed. “Problem is, I dunno if she feels th’ same. I’m not th’ romantic type. I’m not real sure how t’ go about… tellin’ her an’ that stuff. I tried to flirt a bit, but she took it as a joke. Ye were there, in fact.”

“I was there?” I echoed, frowning as I tried to remember. Suddenly, realization hit me. At the last NGS meeting, I noticed him and Chirr joking around together. Friendly ribbing, or so I thought at the time. “Oh… it’s Chirr, isn’t it?”

Zodd turned dark red and glanced away before nodding ever so slightly. “I reckon James likes her too,” he said, swirling his drink around before taking another sip. “They’re together a lot.”

“Well…” I said. “I don’t want to pit you two against one another. Everyone in the NGS ought to be friendly. And Chirr is a person, not a prize to be won. In the end, it’s about what would make her happiest. So it’s better not to play games or compete. Rather, approach her directly and state your interest. Then it’s up to her to decide who suits her best. Chirr is candid and plainspoken. She’d appreciate a straight-shooter who respects her enough to be upfront.”

“Straight-shooter, huh?” Zodd replied. “Well, I’ve got that going for me.”

We mulled over the best way to approach Chirr and I gave him the best advice I could muster. Chirr and I have been friends for many years, of course, but the truth is that I still don’t know her well. As we talked, one of the dogs - Attila - came and put his head on my lap. Zodd wasn’t kidding! The direwolves ARE rather snuggly. I won a direwolf plushie at the Knox-O-Ween carnival in Haelun’or and I decided to give it to Zodd as a dog toy. He had his 100th birthday recently and I forgot to give him a present (which is abominable of me, since he gave Icroth and I such nice wedding gifts). The plushie wasn’t much, but I hope his pack likes it!

Chirr mentioned once that she favored warrior types. Zodd might be the one for her. Poor James, though… I thought he and Chirr might make for a cute couple too. Seeing my friends getting together does make me a little bit lonely. I miss Icroth. He’s working hard to master his abilities and commune with Xan, but… I still wish he was at home more often. As his wife, though, I need to love him and support him as much as I can.

We’re apart for now, but we’ll have hundreds of years to be together in the future.

 

Entry 114 –

1793

Spoiler

I’m a bit worried about the state of things here in Haense. Thus far, my life has been peaceful and no one has disturbed me. Everyone’s been quite kind. There’s plenty of elves here in Haense and no anti-elven sentiment among the elected officials, the royalty, or the masses. However, there are… rumblings of something unpleasant beneath the surface and I don’t know what to do.

Well, that’s not quite right. I know what to do. I’m just not sure that I have the strength to do it. It might mean putting my home and lifestyle in jeopardy again.

Some years ago, on the day we took the field trip to Haelun’or, I overheard a nasty fight going on outside the tavern. Dozens of people stood gathered in the square outside the tavern. They were arguing loudly - to the point of shouting - about Voidal magic and its place in Canonism. Many people in the group condemned it as witchcraft! The work of Iblees! They described it as forcing unwanted and unethical change on God’s creation! As a three-hundred-year practitioner of the Voidal Arts, I opted not to involve myself in the conversation (at risk of being run out of town as a witch) and decided simply that I’d rather keep quiet… But that argument stuck with me and I began to grow worried. My magic is a part of me. Could I quit doing it? Surely, I could. But that would mean giving up an art I’ve honed and practiced for hundreds of years. The practice of harnessing and weaving energies from the Void is what helped keep me sane and grounded during some of my darkest, loneliest moments.

I made a note of keeping my magic to myself, though, and not displaying it too openly. But today, I ran into a true conundrum.

A fire broke out in the New Reza square, right outside the tavern! I could smell the smoke from my home and I rushed outside to see what was happening. The Haensi Royal Army fought to smother the blaze with bags of sand and buckets of water. My first impulse was to rush in with my wand at the ready and help. One of the most useful applications of water evocation is firefighting. I can summon powerful jets of endless water at my command - and I’ve used it to extinguish fires before. I wanted to help, but I found myself frozen. What would happen if I openly displayed my magic in front of the HRA soldiers? Would they clap me in irons and throw me in prison? Haense is a devoutly religious state. The practice of evocation hasn’t been criminalized… yet… but many have openly expressed their disapproval and believe that magic is an affront to the church.

Indecision gripped me and I knew not what to do. Luckily, the HRA put the flames out by ordinary means. Nothing got damaged by the fire and no one got hurt. But… what if someone had? What if someone got badly burned or worse because I was too afraid to act?

The situation kept bothering me… and bothering me… and bothering me until I couldn’t take it anymore. Back in the age of Godfrey, no one thought twice about Voidal magic. My husband, Mr. Toov, served in the Imperial Inquisition and he was a massively talented fire evocationist. My own Voidal magic proved to be a critical asset in aiding the White Rose Order. There’s no way I could have kept up with the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and gardening without the use of water evocation. Magic wasn’t merely accepted in early Imperial society - it was encouraged! What happened? Why was Canonism suddenly so opposed to the use of magic? Voidal Magic isn’t dark. After three hundred years of practice, I can safely say that my magic has never brought me into contact with any evil forces whatsoever!

There’s a Canonist bishop who lives in Haense - Bishop Benedict. He presided over Cellie’s wedding to Otto. Lately, he’s been running for elected office in Reza. I’ve seen him in the square handing out flyers. I spotted him watching the HRA soldiers as they put out the fire and cleaned up the damage.

Sidling up next to the Bishop, I spoke to him.

“Pardon me, Father,” I said as softly and politely as I could. “Would you mind if I asked you a question?”

He turned to me, seemingly surprised to find a dark elf standing there. “Da, of course,” he answered. “What can I do for you?”

I thought of how I might best begin my argument. “What does Canonism say regarding Voidal Magic?” I asked.

The Bishop and I sat down at the tables outside the tavern. “Voidal magic is something we must categorically condemn under current tradition due to our belief in its corruption of God’s creation,” he explained to me. I listened quietly and attentively. “I know many practitioners in their own deeds do not mean malice or harm. However, the realm of the Void is indicated in the Scriptures as the prison of Iblees and the place in which those who reject God shall reside. Implementing the source of all that is not God represents an aberration in our nature. We live in a realm filled with material things, with divine creation. It is no place to draw upon the Void.”

I blinked. “Oh, but isn’t the Nether the prison of Iblees?”

He stared at me. “The Scriptures indicate the Void as the name of Iblees’ prison. The Void is the name that we have been told by Exalted Godfrey.”

“I don’t think that’s correct, sir,” I replied. “The Nether and the Void are not the same thing.”

The Bishop frowned uncomfortably and knit his fingers together in front of him. “It’s quite the charge to question the Holy Scriptures, ma’am. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t accept your assertions without proof. Are you suggesting there was a translation error? Surely you don’t mean the Exalted Prophet made a mistake.”

I quickly backpedaled. “Oh, certainly, I don’t think Exalted Godfrey made a mistake. Of course, that’s impossible,” I replied. “It’s likely a mistake in translation. You see, I might not look it, but I’m quite old… and I was alive during the Aegean Undead Crisis. Portals to the Nether opened up and the Undead minions of Iblees poured out. They didn’t come from the Void at all. They came from the Nether. So… not to be rude, but… I’m relatively sure you must be confused.”

The Bishop continued frowning but shrugged his shoulders. “I do not presume to know everything. My earthly pilgrimage is one of learning,” he said, retrieving a notebook from his satchel and beginning to write in it. “Please continue, ma’am.”

“Oh, well… it’s just that the Void and the Nether are completely different realms. I’m sure you’ve studied the Undead Liches who served Iblees and battled against the Ascended and the Aengul Aeriel… I was young then, but I remember the sack of Al’khazar,” I continued somewhat warily. “Anyway… I recently went to the Nether with a cohort of scholars and friends. We found tomes there discussing the Undead and their service to the Denier. I would presume… if he’s imprisoned anywhere… it’s there. Because… um… you see, I’m a Voidal magic practitioner who regularly opens up portals to the Void. And trust me, no Undead have emerged! The Void is a different place. Nothing - not even Aenguls or Daemons - can exist in the Void except for pure arcane energy. Many faithful Imperials back in the age of Exalted Godfrey practiced Voidal magic with the Emperor’s knowledge and consent. If it was really so awful… I think he would have said something, don’t you? My own husband - who was a founder of the White Rose and is considered blessed by the Church - was a fire evocationist and a mightily skilled one at that.”

The Bishop raised his eyebrows. “Exalted Godfrey permitted such things?”

“Oh, yes!” I replied. “My husband served in the Imperial Inquisition. He was on Emperor Godfrey’s security detail. He was a human, but mixed marriages were permitted by law back in those days.”

The Bishop wrinkled his nose in disgust at the mention of a mixed marriage, but he declined to comment. “Perhaps innovations throughout the centuries have slowly changed traditions in Canonism,” he remarked. “As you know, the head of faith changes hands many times.”

“That’s why I think it must be a mistake or a mistranslation, sir,” I replied.

“Very well. Perhaps we should conduct an inquiry on this,” the Bishop replied, gathering his things and rising from the table. “I will say that my colleagues may not be receptive. It’s up to the discretion of His Holiness, in council.”

“I know Voidal evocation is a useful and - in my opinion - morally neutral art,” I said. “It’s hardly dark magic and I wish it wouldn’t be condemned as such. Thank you for hearing me out, Father. I hope the error’s corrected.”

He gave a firm nod before departing. “May the truth prevail, ma’am.”

After he left, I found myself sitting in uneasy silence. In my head, I began endlessly extrapolating on the outcome of what I’d done. Worst-case scenarios danced before my mind’s eye. I’d outed myself as a practitioner of the Voidal arts. Would they condemn me as a witch? Would they run me out of town? Would standing up for my beliefs once again come back to bite me?

But - I had to correct the mistake, didn’t I? Voidal magic isn’t evil. It’s morally neutral. Some kinds of magic - like necromancy - are evil beyond all doubt. Voidal evocation has no moral value one way or the other, though. It depends on how one decides to employ it.

Every time I stand up for something I believe in, I get smacked down harshly. I stood up for the right of a woman to choose her own marriage partner - only to have my law quashed by the House of Lords. I stood up against the Paladins of Xan when they killed an innocent - only for them to laugh at me and call me a coward. I stood up to the government of Oren when they brutalized me and tortured me - only to have them dismiss my claims as false and exonerate the men who hurt me.

If I stand up for the rights of magic users… will I lose my home once again? Will I face harsh, unfair, unjust punishments? Moreover… will I put the NGS in danger? No matter what, I have to keep up fighting for my principles. If we don’t hold firm to our convictions, we’ve got nothing. However, one must be wise and carefully pick one’s battles.

Which hill am I willing to die on, so to speak?

It’s not all bad news, though. A few good things happened too. Today, I learned that Zodd confessed his feelings to Chirr. They’re going to test the waters and see if a relationship is for them. Chirr thanked me for giving Zodd the push he needed. Celestine also told me that she’s been in touch with Fiil’Yar. Fiil believes it’s possible to regrow my ears. Celestine warned me that they wouldn’t quite be the same as my old ears, but that’s fine by me. It’ll be a blessing to have long, slender points again - regardless of the form they take.

Ah, I only want to live in peace.

But there are two kinds of peace in this world, I think. There’s the peace of justice… and the peace of complacency. True peace is when you live in a world of fairness and equality where correct justice is done and wickedness is punished. That’s a society that doesn’t exist yet. It’s something we have to fight for. Many of us, however, choose to live in the peace of silence - where, if you don’t rock the boat too much, you can go through life unmolested. But if you do that, nothing around you will change. Evil flourishes when good men and women keep their heads down and their voices silent.

The question then becomes - how much are you willing to suffer to do what’s right?

 

Entry 115 –

1794

Spoiler

It’s been five years since I was assaulted by Ostromir Carrion and Padraig O’Rourke. I checked the calendar today and it surprised me to see the date. 1794… Funny, to think that much time has passed already. It speeds by so fast. The memories of that night - what little I can remember - are still so clear in my head. Five years ago, Ostromir snatched me off the street and spirited me away to the basement of the Orlov house, where he tortured me and wiped my memory. Five years ago, that awful man forced me to leave my home and my career in Helena behind. I’ve been living abroad in Haense for half a decade now. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to return to the Empire. So long as Ostromir freely wanders the streets, I can’t be safe.

It came up in conversation today. Lately, I’ve been wanting to learn more about alchemy. They say that if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself. Fiil might be able to fix my ears, but there’s no guarantee it’ll work. I’m beginning to think that, if I want to restore my ears to their former shape, I should probably try to figure it out on my own. Luckily, I have an old friend who’s an alchemist. Grouch Carrington was my manager back when I worked at the Dragon’s Rest Inn. He’s an alchemist of some renown and I heard through the grapevine that he was accepting students. A few weeks ago, I ran into him at the tavern in New Reza and asked if he’d be willing to teach me.

Grouch was reluctant. For some reason, he doesn’t like teaching voidal mages. (Apparently, voidal mages tend to be a tad… megalomaniacal?)

Ultimately, Grouch consented to let me join his alchemist’s guild, which he calls The Cauldron of Khem. He said - and I quote - “You know what, Tanith? I don’t normally teach voidal mages, but I’ll take you. I’ve never met someone so earnest. If anything, you’ll be a cut above the rest. I’ve no doubt you’ll make a great alchemist.”

Naturally, I was very flattered by his remarks! Grouch told me all about the supplies and tools I’ll need to purchase. There’s just one slight problem. His alchemy lab is located in Helena. Alchemy isn’t like other kinds of magic. It requires flasks, beakers, funnels, tubes, cylinders, crucibles, mortars, and pestles. A great many tools and fanciful bits of glassware. In other words, he can’t pack everything up and move it on a whim. Not easily, at least. If I want to learn alchemy, I must go to his lab to practice. What am I to do? I’m too frightened to return to Helena. What if I run into Ostromir again? Grouch suggested that I might come in disguise - wear a cloak to conceal my pink hair. It’s so frustrating, though!

Why should I be forced to stay away from Helena? Why should I let Ostromir Carrion frighten me? He’s a pathetic, sniveling worm of a man. He’s not even a real Carrion! He’s an O’Rourke bastard pretending to be Raevir!

Yet I can’t help but feel worried and cautious. I wonder why he didn’t kill me the first time. He spared me for some reason. I wonder if he regrets not murdering me when he had the chance. I wonder if he’ll try to finish the job.

I’m stronger now than before, though.

Ostromir won’t get the drop on me a second time. I’ve been practicing my voidal shifting. Serenity taught me how to shift at our last lesson. My first attempts at shifting were… less than successful. In short, the lesson ended with me doubled over a wastebasket and emptying everything I had in my stomach. Serenity and Ivaeri took care of me until I felt better, bless them. Serenity held back my hair while Ivaeri lent me her handkerchief to wipe my mouth. Thankfully, I’m slowly getting better. For a few minutes every day, I’ve been teleporting back and forth across my house. The first few times, I vomited the same as before. With practice, though, I’ve begun adjusting to the sensation of thrusting myself through the Void. No more vomiting! So if Ostromir tied me up again, I could just… blink out of my restraints and escape!

My Voidal Translocation has come in handy at the museum too. We’re in the process of packing everything up for travel. It seems inevitable now. The time has come, yet again, for all the Descendant races to pack up their lives and travel the seas in search of a new homeland. My powers are great enough now that I can expatriate fairly large objects - roughly the size of a watermelon. That means I can comfortably store most of the artifacts in the museum. Celestine has exploited my power to the fullest extent. I’ve expatriated no less than sixty artifacts into the Void over the last few weeks. It’s hard work, but I’m glad I can help!

Aside from packing up our museum, the NGS is getting ready for what might be our final dive into the Nether. When we leave Arcas, we’ll lose access to the portal. Will there be Nether portals in the new land? No one knows. So we must take advantage of the portal while we still can. Kallian Syrivir - a new member of our Exploration Corps - has prepared Athin-treated cloaks to help protect us from the heat and fire. We still don’t have anything to combat the psychic headaches, but we, unfortunately, don’t have time to search for a solution. We’re on the cusp of losing the portal. It’s now or never. I’m prepared. As prepared as I can be, at any rate.

We’ll be saying goodbye to a lot of things when we leave Arcas. I’ve come to love so many of these landscapes. Elvenesse is the place where I learned to love my elven heritage. I’d like to go and visit once more before we depart for good. I convinced James to come with me. I bought him some “elven” clothes so we could fit in among the populace there.

James reminds me so much of me - of how I used to be. Culturally, he’s no different from a human man. He’s disconnected from his people, his race, his origins. He has no attachment to his elven heritage. His elf parents abandoned him, he said, so he feels no duty to embrace or uphold their ways. The same thing happened to me, hundreds of years ago. My parents gave me up as collateral to pay off a debt. At least, that’s what I was told. I suppose the difference is that James’s adoptive human parents were good to him. My human masters were… not. My body is a book of wounds - each line written by a cruel human who saw me as property and not a person.

Even so, I want James to understand his culture just a bit. Visiting Siramenor was a transformative experience for me. It dispelled my illusions about elves and helped me to understand my people on a deeper, more nuanced level. James isn’t me. He didn’t live through the terror of the White Rose. He never served humans as a slave. So of course he doesn’t feel the same as me. But who knows? Maybe visiting Elvenesse and seeing his people help him to understand himself too. Being an elf is more than having long ears and living for millennia. I’m uncovering the truth of my elven heritage little by little. I want James to have that experience too.

Speaking of James… it seems Chirr’s finally chosen between him and Zodd. She and Zodd went out on a date recently. Zodd tells me it went very well. He gave her a pearl necklace and a sword. (Oh dear. That… sounds dirty when I write it out. But I promise it’s not a euphemism! At least, I don’t think it is?) I expected James to be heartbroken when I told him the news, but he took it well. As it turns out, James wasn’t really ready to settle down anyway. He wanted a mate mostly to help him take care of Luna, so that she could have a proper mother. Recently, he found an elf family to adopt Luna, though. So James is back to being a bachelor once again.

In other news, Celestine’s quite upset over a trial that occurred recently in Haense. Hektor Stafyr was charged with sedition after he criticized Haense’s laws regarding speech. Haense has some fairly strict guidelines regarding what you can and can’t say within its borders. Humans are required to be Canonist. Nonhumans can practice their own faiths, but only within the privacy of their homes. It’s illegal to insult the nobility and their definition of ‘insult’ is rather broad. Hektor published a letter when he accused King Josef of criminalizing thought. Naturally, they arrested him and he stood trial. Otto - Celestine’s husband - was among the judges. It’s looking very likely that Hektor will face execution.

Normally, this wouldn’t affect the NGS… but Hektor is married to Caspia Varonin, a member of our inner Circle. Celestine is the godmother of Caspia’s three-year-old son Leofric. It’ll be troublesome if Hektor’s deeds spill over and ruin our reputation. The NGS stands for free speech, free discussion, and free thought, but… well, we need to maintain our good relationship with Haense. Cellie is also worried about Caspia and the child too, of course. But I’ve no doubt that the NGS will come together to support them. Celestine’s been awfully preoccupied and bent out of shape because of the trial. She was in a terrible mood last as we were packing things up. She was quite unlike herself - so snappy and brusque. I hope she feels better soon.

Everyone’s in a strange mood lately, though. We’re all just watching and waiting for the end of the world - whatever form it will take next.

 

Entry 116 –

1794

Spoiler

Icroth’s in town! It’s our anniversary. Fifteen years ago, we stood in front of the altar and swore our solemn vows. He came back home just for the occasion. We had a lovely evening celebrating together. I cooked us a nice dinner - fresh-caught salmon in puff pastry with roasted potatoes - and trimmed his hair. (He gets a bit sheeplike out in the woods.) Afterward, we lay in bed and talked for hours until all our candles burnt down to nubs. When the lights finally went out, we kept whispering in the dark. It wasn’t fancy, maybe, but nights like this make me feel young again. It reminds me of my early nineties, feeling the first blushes of new love. Love isn’t about gifts or fancy outings. It’s the simple pleasure of being close together and delighting in each others’ presence.

A shame that he’s leaving again tomorrow. Icroth says he’s on the verge of a breakthrough with his paladin abilities. The wilderness agrees with him, it seems. He’s at his sharpest and his most focused when he’s alone. That’s unfortunately the difference between him and me. If you leave me alone for too long, I get… wrapped up in my own thoughts. I start fraying at the edges. Other people are what keeps me grounded, so I’ve realized. The years I spent alone were some of the darkest in my history - at least for me mentally. For Icroth, people are an annoyance more than anything. He mostly wants solitude to work on himself and live life at his own pace.

We’re working to find a happy medium between the two of us. Even fifteen years later, marriage is still work - but it’s good work. Positive work. If Icroth needs time by himself, I let him go. He’ll return when he’s ready. I miss him wile he’s gone, certainly, but I have my friends, my hobbies, and my career to keep me busy. On the days when Icroth’s home, he regales me with tales from the deep woods. In exchange, I tell him about my day-to-day - which he finds just as fascinating as his adventures. (I worry it’s boring, but Icroth tells me he could read an entire book about my life. Maybe I’ll let him read my diary someday.) Icroth was excited to hear I’m taking up alchemy! He wants me to teach him once I become an expert! He finds all sorts of strange plants and fungi and rocks out in the forest - things that might be useful if employed in the right mixture. I wish I was an expert already so I could tell him everything I know.

Oh, I adore him! I’m so happy he’s here. I missed him so much. My gruff, woodsy ‘ker who smells so richly of campfires, dead leaves, sunlight, and cedarwood. With his eyes as pale as the winter rain. Whose smiles are rare, but light up the entire world when they appear. Fifteen years, but somehow every kiss still feels like the first one. Even after all this time, we’re still getting to know each other. I hope it’ll always be like this, even after 150 or 250 or 350 years. We went to the yearly NGS meeting together and I held hands with him the entire time.

Ah, the meeting! I could go on for pages about how much I love my husband, but I mustn’t get sidetracked. Yes, we had our yearly NGS meeting today. I’m happy to report that Cellie’s mood is much improved. She’s still feeling poorly, but… less doom and gloom than the other day. Before the meeting began, I hugged her and reminded her that she could rely on me for anything. “I have something to ask you after the meeting,” she said to me as the other members began to file into the lecture hall. “Wait around a while, will you?”

“Icroth and I are celebrating our anniversary tonight,” I explained. “I can’t stay too long.”

“It’ll only take a minute, I promise,” Cellie reassured me.

The meeting itself was fairly pedestrian. We discussed our plans to delve into the Nether. We’re going to head back in one Saint’s Week. Celestine is putting together her picks for the final dive. We can only bring four people because that’s the number of Athin-treated cloaks we have. She wants me, Kaillan, and Chirr on the team. Celestine, Kaillan, and I all know water evocation, which ought to help keep us cool and provide a defense against the fiery creatures of the Red Realm. So far, ice has been the only effective means of dispatching the beasts there. My Voidal Translocation will also help us safely traverse over small gaps and store items we find on our travels. Chirr’s coming along due to her experience. She’s strong and hearty, so hopefully, she can take care of us fragile mages if we begin to fail from exhaustion or stress. Our goal is to find an air source, look for a way to stop the psychic headaches, and maybe lay eyes upon one of the fortresses full of hog-men. I’m nervous. Our visits to the Nether have been… costly, to say the least. Icroth won’t be joining us due to his bad leg. I only hope that we’ll escape this final dive with our limbs intact.

There are a few things I need to do before we go. Firstly, I absolutely must buy a pair of new glasses. I’ve been stumbling around half-blind for five years now. Mr. Rat suggested I get in touch with his mechanic, so perhaps I’ll do that. I simply cannot go into the Nether if I can’t see clearly. Secondly, I said I would research ways to block the psychic headaches. The books mention that there’s a cure within the Nether itself, but the cure won’t do any good if we can’t find it. We need to find a way to mitigate the headaches at least a little bit before we enter. My plan is to visit the Eternal Library and see if Ms. Sullas knows anything about psychic energy blockers. The headaches occur because our mortal, descendant minds cannot grasp the wicked energy of the Nether. If there was a way to simply… block that energy out, while still leaving us access to our magic…

I’ll see what I can find, I suppose.

Other than the Nether, Celestine mentioned a group of merchants called the Brotherhood of Brev. They’ve arrived in Arcas from a foreign continent, which they refer to as ‘The Land of Titans.’ Celestine wants to meet them and learn more about where they come from.

After the meeting, Cellie took me aside. She gave Icroth an apologetic smile. “I won’t borrow your wife for too long,” she said. “I promise. I just need her opinion on something.”

Icroth nodded. “I’ll be waiting at home, dear,” he said to me as he rose to his feet and sauntered off toward the door.

Cellie and I went up to her office in the tower. Taking a deep breath, Celestine settled down behind her desk. She tapped her fingers lightly on the wood before turning her gaze toward me. “I believe that, after half a decade of having suspended our Helena operations, we are nearing a point where I think it would be safe to reopen them,” she said after a long moment’s silence. “What do you think?”

I sat down across from her in an armchair. At once, I began picking at my fingernails - that annoying nervous tick of mine that prevents me from ever having pretty hands. For some reason, Helena keeps coming up lately. “I…” I uttered, letting out a sigh.

“Mind you, I’m not sending you back,” Celestine added quickly. “I want you in Haense to run our flagship museum.”

“I know,” I replied. “I… don’t want my personal feelings to get in the way of our operations. It just… makes me so angry to think how the Empire treated me. They wrote me off as a liar in spite of all the evidence we had.”

Celestine gave me a soft, sympathetic look. “It makes me angry too, Tanith. Believe me, I won’t ever forget what happened to you.”

“But,” I continued, “it’s important to foster good relations with the Empire. For the sake of our organization. Who will be operating our Imperial branch, if not me?”

“I see two potential candidates for the job,” Celestine said. She toyed with one of her dark curls, glancing to the side as she contemplated.

“The first is Edward Napier. He seems like the obvious pick. Edward has some experience in the field. He has a good relationship with the Imperial Association and he helped set up our Kaedrin museum before we were forced to close down. He’s a scholar of renown. However… he does… have a bit of a reputation.”

“Jailed for attempted assassination,” I muttered. “Who’s the other candidate?”

“I was considering your friend, James Chapel. He’s got strong ties to Helena,” Celestine continued. “But I don’t know if he’d be interested in that.”

My brow wrinkled in thought. “Oh, I’m not sure about James,” I answered. “He can be a tad eccentric. But then again, I suppose we’re all eccentric here.” At that, Celestine laughed. “But what I mean is, I don’t think he’s that academically inclined. Maybe we could interview both candidates and weigh their qualifications that way.”

Celestine gave a short nod, steepling her fingers as she mulled the choices over. “Napier is my first choice. I’m just concerned about our reputation as an organization. Edward is my friend, but… we do have an image to maintain.”

“Well, he’s currently serving as tutor to the Imperial children. He has a reputation, yes, but he’s still well-loved by many august people in Helena,” I pointed out. “Including Her Imperial Majesty.”

“The Archchancellor is also fond of him,” Celestine replied. “Perhaps I’m being too hard on Edward.”

“He deserves a second chance, don’t you think?” I said. “This could be an opportunity to rehabilitate his reputation. Besides… if you ask me, he didn’t do anything wrong. The whole reason he stabbed Padraig was to get justice for me.”

Celestine smiled. “That’s true. Edward is a good man and a good friend to both of us.” She placed her palms flat on the desk and rose to her feet. “I’ll think on it a little while longer. Now, I’ve got to hurry along. I’ve got an appointment with Fiil.”

“Ah, Fiil!” I exclaimed. “Any news about my ears?”

Cellie smiled. “Very soon. But I don’t want to keep you for long, especially since your husband’s in town. Hurry home and celebrate your anniversary!”

And that’s exactly what I did.

It seems like fate is pulling me back toward Helena, though. The city keeps coming up in conversation. God is giving me a sign. I’ll have to face Helena again soon, I’m sure.

I need a plan for what to do if I run afoul of Ostromir. I’ve learned from my mistakes. First, I won’t go anywhere without a trusted companion - someone I know has my best interest at heart. Second, if someone tries to intimidate me, I’ll start screaming and causing a scene. If they try to kidnap me, I’ll kick and struggle and drop to the ground. If I’m restrained, I’ll blink out of my bindings. No matter what, I won’t let them hurt me again.

I’m not weak anymore. I’m not the shy, meek, delicate little girl I used to be in the White Rose. Bullies like him don’t scare me. If he tries to hurt me again, I’ll make sure he regrets it.

 

Entry 117 –

1795

Spoiler

This morning, I woke up with a feeling of deep, gut-burning dread. Cold, numbing fear coursed through my veins as I rose from bed, brushed my hair, and dressed in front of my wardrobe. Am I really doing this? I asked myself, gazing in the still glass of my mirror. Am I really going back to Helena after five long years?

The answer, of course, was yes. I had no choice if I truly wanted to master the practice of alchemy. Grouch couldn’t teach me anywhere else. We needed to learn at his lab, which was located in Helena. I had one of two options. Either I could give up, take the ‘safe’ route, and stay in Reza - skipping out on precious knowledge that could materially improve my life. Or… I could risk it. I could be brave.

In my mind, I ran over the plans I made in case Ostromir Carrion tried to hurt me again. For a long time, I sat still at my kitchen table and weighed the options. The more I thought about it, though, the angrier I felt. Why was I letting Ostromir Carrion control my life and behavior like this? Why was I giving that wretched, awful man such power over me? He had been living inside my mind for five long years, stalking the dark corridors of my nightmares. Occasionally, in the depths of slumber, I’d see flashes of moments that felt like memories. A sneering Ostromir looming over me as he kicked my stomach and battered my face. I had grown genuinely to fear him.

But here is the plain truth. I have endured far worse than Ostromir Carrion. Ostromir Carrion cannot compare to the terrors of the White Rose.

He can’t compare to the time I saw my second husband, Mr. Olora, beaten to death by an anti-elven hate mob. I’ve had razor-sharp blades pressed to my throat and threats of death visited upon my person. I watched Icroth lose his leg in the maw of a fiery monster. I faced shrieking ghasts, poisonous fireballs, and boiling lakes of lava. After all that… Ostromir Carrion is nothing to me. He does not deserve my fear.

So I did it. I went to Helena - and I didn’t even go in disguise.

Nothing bad happened! I didn’t see Ostromir at all. Neither hide nor hair of the man. I marched right through Nauzica Square completely unmolested. Mr. Grouch’s alchemy lab sits on the edge of town near to the farms. The avenues that lead toward the farms are broad and well-lit, so I didn’t feel the least bit nervous. Nobody tried to harm me. Nobody even really spoke to me! It was a relief. I felt free. No eyes watching me from the dark alleys. No hunters pursuing me through the mist.

I found an ISA officer waiting outside of Grouch’s laboratory when I arrived. He introduced himself as John Pruvia-Provins. His brown skin marked him as Rhenyari - a relative of Archchancellor Basrid, as it turns out. He was another student of Grouch also here for a lesson. Mr. Pruvia-Provins had long admired the work of alchemists and sought to take up the practice for himself. He’d been researching and studying a great deal in preparation. We waited outside together for a little while before Grouch arrived.

Grouch took us on a tour of his lab. You’d expect an alchemy lab to be a cold, dingy place full of bubbling beakers and strange, whistling tubes. In actuality, it was quite pleasant! Colored light filtered through stained-glass windows. Mosaics in the shape of octopus tentacles twisted across the floor. Grouch decorated the walls with quotes from scripture. The atmosphere in the laboratory was far cleaner and more wholesome than I would have imagined. Grouch showed us a few of his current projects, including what looked like a thunderstorm trapped inside a bottle. He showed us a cask full of grey clouds that crackled and ripped with arcs of lightning. Fascinating!

After the tour, Grouch gave us our first basic lesson in alchemy theory. Alchemy, as I learned today, is based upon an esoteric alphabet of signs and symbols. It sounds a bit complicated at first, but it’s actually quite simple once you begin to grasp it. Every plant has two qualities - a sign and a symbol. The signs are elemental. There are only five of them - air, water, earth, fire, and aether. Symbols, however, are more varied, abstract, and complex. There are dozens describing different specific aspects of a plant. Examples of symbols include heat, cold, endurance, order, chaos, swiftness, and many more. Grouch showed us a flower called Night’s Glow, which blooms at night and emits a steady glow - as the name might suggest. The elemental sign of the flower was air. Its two symbols were swiftness and light. Plants can have many different symbols, but only one elemental sign. At least, that’s how I understood it! The most complex part of alchemy seems to be learning to ‘read’ your ingredients - that is, understand their signs and symbols. Once you have a working knowledge of the alchemical alphabet, you can begin to isolate the qualities you want and combine them to form potions! The alchemical alphabet determines what your potions will do.

After introducing us to the alchemical alphabet, Grouch told us about the different methods of isolating signs and symbols. You must first take the plant and grind it up into a fine, mushy paste. Then you combine it with water and aqua vitae to wash out the impurities. You then boil and strain the mixture until the plant matter has all but disappeared. That’s the most basic method, at least. He promised to teach us more complicated and refined methods of extraction later. Once the symbols and signs were isolated, the alchemist could then combine them to create potions with new effects.

With that, we completed our first lesson in alchemical theory. Now it was time for the practicum. With Grouch’s help, we made potions of luminosity. To create the potion, we needed to mix Night Glow with Goblin’s Ivy. Night Glow has the symbols of light and swiftness. Goblin’s Ivy has many symbols, but the one we endeavored to extract today was endurance. Grouch showed us how to isolate the symbols using a strange machine with a hand crank. It rotated the bottles over a flame and shook them to separate out their parts. The final result was a tube of glittering particles suspended in a thick, translucent serum. When you shook it, the particles bounced off one another and let off a soft glow as they collided!

Grouch told me the effect would last about a Saint’s Day.

“Wouldn’t it be marvelous to dye these potions different colors and set them out as Tuvmas decorations?” I proposed to Grouch.

Grouch smiled widely. “Ideas like that,” he said, pointing to me. “That’s exactly why I brought you into the guild, Tanith. That sort of sweetness and warmth.”

I blushed. “Really?”

“Most alchemists… well, they’re zany. Reclusive. Weirdos, even!” Grouch laughed. “I’m not excluding myself either! You’re a fine student, Tanith. I knew you’d bring something unique to the Cauldren of Khem.”

Grouch let me take the potion of luminosity home with me. I returned to Haense unharmed; still no sign of Ostromir anywhere. Normally, I might’ve gone straight home, but… that little potion made me so proud and happy, I wanted to show it off to all my friends! So I set out in search of someone to share my success.

I stumbled upon James, Celestine, and Fiil chatting in the tavern. They were seated around the table closest to the bar. Celestine held in her hands a container filled with greyish sludge. Two fleshy, brown objects floated around inside the murk, though I couldn’t quite make out what they were. “Oh, Cellie, what are those?” I asked as I approached the table and sat next to James.

Celestine went a little green about the gills. “Ah, Tanith. Good that you’ve arrived.” She looked at the container with a slight grimace. “These are… for your procedure.”

“What procedure?” I echoed, squinting at the jar. “Oh… OH!” I realized quickly what the fleshy objects were. There, floating in the jar, were a severed pair of elf ears. Dark brown - clearly harvested from a wood elf. I clenched my teeth, struggling to hide my disgust. “How on earth did you get those?”

“Not to worry, no one was harmed during the effort to procure them! They’re from a cadaver. Chirr and I stumbled upon the corpse of a wood elf in our travels,” Celestine clarified. “I don’t know if they’re ideal, but I wanted Fiil to take a look regardless.”

Fiil - the elven shamaness - picked up the jar and examined the contents within. She turned the jar back and forth in her hands, squinting at the severed ears as they bobbed in the liquid. “These would work,” she said, letting out a sigh. “But there is ash problem.”

(Fiil speaks common mostly, but she slips a few orcish words into the mix. In this case, ‘ash’ means one.’)

Celestine leaned forward in her seat, a frown tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What problem?” she asked.

“My mojo is colored grey, like candle smoke,” Fiil explained. “Color will be transferred to the flesh when I attached them. Since they are already brown, my mojo would make them too discolored. It would not match Ms. Tanith’s skin.”

“Oh…” Celestine responded, her face falling. “That means we need light-skinned ears. So the color transfers purely.”

Fiil nodded. “Yub. Almost white, if possible,” she said. “If you don’t mind the color mismatch, it’s nub problem. We can use these. But… elf ears stick out. It might be noticeable.”

Celestine peered over at me. “Tanith, what do you think?”

I toyed with my luminosity potion as I listened to them - giving it a little shake every time the light began to fade. “Ideally, I would like the skin tone to match as much as possible,” I answered. “If my ears were a wildly different color than the rest of my face… well, it would look quite odd, wouldn’t it? The color match doesn’t have to be perfect, but… the less obvious, the better.”

“If the tone doesn’t match perfectly, you could decorate them to make it less apparent,” James added.

I sighed. “I’ve never been much for jewelry, though…” My eyes dropped to the wedding band around my finger. “This is usually the only thing that I wear.”

Celestine gave a solemn nod. “Right. We want to get it right the first time.”

“Is it possible to tattoo them the correct color?” I posited. “Inject ink to make them the right shade of grey?”

“That would work if they were too light,” Fiil answered. “But it wouldn’t do much good if they turned out too dark.”

Celestine sat back in her chair, folding her arms in deep thought. “Chirr and I will keep a lookout, but… elf ears don’t grow on trees. It’s hard to find them just lying around. We can’t acquire them any other way, except from cadavers.”

“Maybe we could solicit donations?” I suggested. “People can be surprisingly generous. Perhaps someone has a recently deceased relative…”

“We’ll keep these as a last resort.” Celestine thumped her hand atop the jar containing the wood elf ears. “They belonged to a criminal who had been strung up outside a settlement as a warning. So they’re not in the best condition.”

“Eh, a criminal’s ears aren’t good!” I squeaked. “I’d rather have ears that… oh, I don’t know. Maybe ears that belonged to a musician or something nice like that. Who donated his ears because he wanted to keep hearing the world’s beautiful music even after he’s gone.”

Celestine smiled. “Let’s hope we find a good donor, then.”

We talked about the surgery for a while more - until the clock on the wall chimed and reminded us of the late hour. One by one, we got up to leave. As I rose from my chair, James suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of my arm. “Tanith, I just remembered -” he exclaimed. “I need to learn to cook as quickly as possible!”

“Eh?” I stared at him.

James scrambled to explain. “Miss Styrne, my playwright friend,” he began, “recently got hired as a tutor for the Ruthern household. They let me have a room in their manor as well, but only on the condition that I cook for them. Trouble is, I’ve never cooked anything in my life.”

“James!” I blurted out. “That’s - a big job! If they’re a noble family, they’re going to expect a lot of fancy dishes!”

“He mentioned… something.” James flashed a sheepish smile, glancing to the side and rubbing his neck. “Borscht? I don’t even know what that is. I thought of purchasing food and disguising it as my own cooking, but…”

“It’s beet soup,” I explained. “I can teach you how to make it. Come by my house tomorrow and we’ll go through a few Haensi recipes, but… you really ought to consider being honest with the Rutherns!”

James shrugged. “The Count said he wanted a cook. If I learn how to cook, it won’t be a lie anymore.”

I suppose he has a point, but… Oh, James! He’s still a young elf with a lot of growing up to do. Most elves spend their first century of life playing around, experimenting and getting into trouble, though. That’s natural. He’ll settle once he hits two-hundred, I’m sure.

I’m worried about my ears, though. I’ll need to put up a flyer asking for donations. Urgh, it might draw some negative attention. It’s… a bit gruesome, soliciting parts from a corpse. People might think I’m up to no good. I hope not, though. I pray I’ll get a beautiful set of ears from a willing donor. For 300 years, I’ve lived with shorn nubs on either side of my head. I’m ready to be a full elf once again.

 

Entry 118 –

1795

Spoiler

For years now, we’ve been perched on edge - waiting for the other shoe to drop. Those of us who have lived for centuries know. Every one hundred years or so, there arises an apocalypse to drive us out of our homes and force us abroad. The year is 1795 and the end of days has come knocking on our doors yet once more.

We’ve been expecting this for a long time now. That’s why Celestine and Otto went to the trouble of building a ship and packing up our artifacts and exhibits. Yet, while we waited, life just… proceeded as normal. We shopped for groceries, hung our laundry, swept our floors, chatted at the tavern. Business as usual. If you focused only on your day-to-day business, you started to forget that you were waiting for widespread panic and mass destruction.

Today began the same as any other day. I woke up early with the rooster’s call and did my morning chores. Perhaps it’s odd to say this, but I’ve always found something soothing about housework. Having a well-kept home has long been a point of pride for me. Sweeping floors, cooking meals, making the bed - I go through my chores in a methodical, meditative manner that never fails to calm my anxieties and quiet my racing thoughts. When one’s house is in order, one’s mind is in order. After I finished my housework, I laid down for a quick cat-nap - figuring I’d wake up refreshed and ready to brainstorm on my duties as the new NGS Chief of Research.

I woke up to a noise louder than anything I had ever heard before. Louder than cannon fire and explosions. I didn’t just hear it - I felt it. It rattled me to my bones. My teeth vibrated and my ears rang. Springing to my feet, I raced to the window… and saw the city consumed in flame. A rain of meteors, summoned by an Inferi archmage, had crashed from the heavens onto New Reza.

A thousand thoughts crowded my head at once. How did this happen? What caused this? Are my friends safe? Did any of the meteors strike the museum? Should I put out the fires? Should I help the injured? Do I try to evacuate? Do I stay put and wait for rescue?

But the single loudest thought inside my head was… This is it.

Another continent gone. Another home lost. The one-hundred-year cycle repeating itself.

It wasn’t fear that washed through me in that moment. Rather, a profound, aching sadness. A frigid wave that began inside my core and slowly radiated out over my body. How many times would I have to see my home razed to cinders? How many times would I have to uproot my life and move abroad, to a place I had never seen before? A place where I had no history. A place with nothing familiar. My mind replayed the memories of events just like this one. The Undead torching the green fields of Aegis and laying thick clouds of miasma upon Al’khazar. The vicious floods, earthquakes, and storms that brought Asulon to its knees. Setherion, the wicked dragon who drowned Anthos in tidal waves a thousand feet tall. That plague of giant worms that ripped Athera to shreds.

Again and again and again - the same apocalyptic event with only the slightest variations in its pattern. Having lived through this event eight times… what was I supposed to think, except that God must truly hate His creation?

Grabbing what little I could, I fled my home. Streams of people clambered past the flaming rubble, fighting to escape the city. I found Chirr and Zodd in the throng. HRA soldiers ushered us out of the wreckage. We were told in frantic, screaming tones that they’d erected a refugee camp further to the north, in the province of Valwyck. We clutched our scant few possessions to our chests as we followed the bumpy, uneven country roads into the snowy woodland.

The Baruch family - Haensi nobles - received us as their estate in Valwyck. They’d set up tents on the hill overlooking their castle. They were prepared with food rations, blankets, water, warm clothing. For a moment, I felt mildly thankful that these events happen on such a regular schedule. At least it gives the kingdoms ample time to prepare.

A dark mood chilled the camp at Valwyck as people waited to hear from their loved ones. Rumors spread about similar attacks on other cities. A massive chasm opened up in Nauzica Square, causing Helena to collapse in on itself. The ISA established a safe camp at the Eye of Man - a fortress where they used to hold interrogations and re-educate dissidents. A few intrepid couriers were offering their services to refugees. They’d run letters to the Eye of Man and inform people of their missing relatives. I had minas to spare in my purse, so I sent a courier to the fortress to ask about our friends in the NGS - Edward, James, Celestine, Otto, and their children.

And Icroth…

My husband came into New Reza to celebrate our fifteen-year anniversary some weeks ago, but he departed shortly afterward. He told me he’d be camping in the mountains near Kaedrin. Did he even know what was going on? Did the news reach him where he was out in the forest? Had he seen the meteors from his campsite? My mind raced with worry as I thought of him. I tried to keep cheerful and not let my anxieties show too much, but a sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. What if he got left behind? My poor husband trapped in an Inferi-occupied Arcas? The Eye of Man occupied the coast of the Northeastern Territories - not far from Kaedrin. If Icroth heard about the mass destruction, I’m sure he probably would have gone there with the Imperial refugees.

Valwyck and the Eye of Man are separated by a distance of several hundred miles, but the couriers traveled fleetly on their horses. Chirr, Zodd, and I stayed up all night waiting for responses to our letters, but we received them. I got a letter from James saying that he had reached the Eye of Man safely, along with every member of the Napier family. Little Dannika Wittenbach had gotten separated from her parents in the confusion, but she was unhurt. James and Kallian were minding her while they waited for news from Celestine. She, Otto, Eliza, Alejandro, and the rest of the Wittenbachs were still missing in action. Dannika only ended up at the Eye of Man because she’d been in Helena when the Inferi attacked.

I got a second letter from Icroth himself. He was safe, he told me, and staying at the Eye of Man. He wanted to be with me at Valwyck, but he didn’t dare try to traverse the main roads. The Inferi prowled the thoroughfares between New Reza, Haelun’or, and Helena. Charting a path through the forests and mountains would take weeks. Rumor had it that the Imperial Navy planned to set out in the next month or so. Icroth didn’t want to risk missing the boat.

It seemed… we would have to find each other in the new land. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read his words. Icroth is a practical man, pragmatic and stern. Not given to romance or flights of fancy. I knew he was right. But a part of me still wanted to head for the Eye of Man immediately and rejoin him at any cost. We could spend months - even years - exploring the seas before we found a new home once we left Arcas. The Haensi fleet and the Imperial fleet might end up settling hundreds - or even thousands - of miles apart. And what if the ship were to sink with him on board?

There was a chance, I thought, that I might never see him again.

Dark and heavy clouds smothered the sky above the Haensi refugee camp. As dawn broke over the mountains, the clouds split and rain came pouring onto the tents. I was still awake, reading Icroth’s letter. The first thing I noticed was the iron tang in the air - a scent with which I am intimately familiar. The puddles gathering in the cobblestones had a deep, scarlet hue. A round, spherical object plopped from the sky right into a puddle near my tent. I pulled back the tent flap and found myself gazing at a disembodied eyeball floating gently atop the pool. A crimson iris - the same color as mine - stared back at me. It was as though someone had plucked the eye straight from my skull and set it afloat. Bits of flesh pattered down amid the blood rain. Chunks of skin. Severed limbs. The Baruchs ushered us into their castle where we waited out the blood fall. They wrote it off as an Inferi intimidation tactic, meant to demoralize our troops.

I felt numb. I should have been horrified, but… I felt nothing except that aching sadness. The cold, overspreading sensation of loss. After the storm stopped, we cleaned up the viscera. And… I’ll admit it. I looked for a pair of severed elf ears among the detritus. I didn’t find any.

I’m not a person with grand, ambitious goals. The one thing I want is a happy, peaceful, stable life. A life of simple joys - like love, family, faith, learning, and a clean, orderly house.

But the world isn’t built that way. The world isn’t an orderly house. It’s violent. And chaotic. And stupid. And evil. And unfair. It’s a world that gives you the most beautiful gifts, only to laugh as it yanks them away.

I miss my husband.

I’m trying to believe in a bright future. I really am. I do believe in it. I believe that God is real and that He’s good. On days like this, though, it’s hard. It’s hard… and I’m tired. I’m tired of losing everything over and over. Icroth was supposed to be my rock. My anchor in the storm. He was supposed to be the one thing I could always hold onto. Now he’s miles away and… and I might never see him again.

Please, God. If you can hear me. If you care for a dark elf’s prayers… let me find him in the new world.

 

Entry 119 –

1795

Spoiler

Celestine and Otto have arrived safely in Valwyck, thank God. They escaped the destruction of New Reza and traveled north toward the coast, where they have the NGS steamship - the Odyssey - waiting in secret. The Odyssey is anchored in a hidden cove, safe from prying eyes. Cellie’s kept the location strictly confidential. Not even I, the NGS Chief of Research, know where it is. The reason for this secrecy is twofold. One, it keeps the Odyssey safe from any Inferi attacks. It stands to reason that the Inferi will try to target the fleets next, to prevent people from escaping. Two, Celestine won’t have the Haensi Navy trying to seize our vessel. We’ve managed to store several items in the Void, but some exhibits were just too large or complex for me to expatriate. We don’t want the Navy throwing our priceless treasures overboard to make room for gunpowder and cannonballs. Of course, we’ll take refugees on board if necessary… but we intend to travel separately from the fleet. We’re not a battleship and the Navy will not force us to become one. The Odyssey is a research vessel first and foremost. It will not be used for violence.

Kallian Syrivir and I raced to meet Celestine when she arrived at camp. (Kallian originally settled at the Eye of Man, but he too made his way over to Valwyck.) Cellie surprised me by bringing Dannika along with her. Last I heard, Dannika was with the Imperial refugees near Kaedrin. It turned out that Celestine and Otto took a brief detour to go collect their little girl from the Eye of Man.

Celestine looked haggard and exhausted from the days of travel. Her cheeks were thin and pale, her eyes underlined with dark circles. With a nod to her daughter, Celestine sent Dannika to play while we adults settled around a picnic table to discuss our plans. Otto excused himself to find a tent for the family to occupy.

“The Odyssey is primed and ready for departure,” Celestine explained, knitting her fingers together upon the rough-hewn wood. “We’ll be leaving as soon as we finish up our business in Arcas. My plan is to weigh anchor a few days ahead of the Imperial and Haensi fleets so we can get a head start. Edward got us copies of the Imperial Navy’s sea charts. The ships are headed for an archipelago that will serve as our waypoint for… wherever we go next.”

“We don’t know,” I said. It wasn’t a question - not really. We never know where we’re going when these things happen. It’s simply providence that we find a safe destination. Every time.

Celestine nodded, her mouth pressed into a grim line. She forced a small smile. “New frontiers worth exploring!” she said with a false sort of cheeriness. “But… we’ll cross that bridge once we get to it. For now, our priority is the Nether portal.”

In the confusion and panic following the destruction of New Reza, I had completely forgotten the Nether Expedition. I stared at Celestine. “We’re… still going?” I asked. “I thought… what with the fall of New Reza and Helena… the loss of our museum…”

“We have one last chance at this, Tanith,” Celestine replied. “We’re about to lose access to the portal. This is the first time Nether portals have opened up in hundreds of years. The Nether hasn’t been seen by Descendant eyes since the Aegean era. This opportunity might not come again. At least, not in my lifetime. We need to try and see if we can find the air pocket. When we do, I want to plant this banner.” Cellie opened up her rucksack and pulled out a banner with the golden NGS compass rose stitched onto it. “It will remain there forever as a testament to our efforts.”

“…Cellie,” I said quietly. “It might be… I don’t know. It might be worth it to cancel the expedition. The situation here in Arcas is so dire already. We’ve gone through a lot in the last few days.”

A part of me dreaded descending back into the Nether. Worries and thoughts of Icroth - not to mention our other friends - still consumed me. A strong, psychic energy pulses through the Nether. It’s capable of driving people mad. If we entered the red realm in a poor state of mind, it might affect us badly. The Nether has a way of worming its way inside your head. The deeper you delve, the worse it gets.

Celestine wouldn’t budge, though. “We’ve been preparing for years now,” she said. “Oh, uh… Tanith. By the way. We… have an additional guest joining us on the excursion. At least as far as the Nether lobby.”

I blinked. As far as I knew, we only had four Athin-treated cloaks. “Eh? Who?”

Celestine’s gaze darted over to Dannika, who was playing nearby in the snow. “When she heard about where we were going,” Cellie mumbled with a shamefaced blush, “she begged me to come along. We’ll almost certainly be losing the portal now, and she won’t have an opportunity to do so for the remainder of her life. We… Won’t be taking her past the lobby, but this could be the only chance that she’ll have to see it.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “Celestine!” I barked out. “That little girl is eleven! She… she has to DROWN herself to access the portal!”

“I tried to refuse her,” Celestine barked back at me. “God Almighty, Tanith. She’s too much like me. She begged and begged and begged endlessly. I tried to tell her it was dangerous, but she wouldn’t listen!”

Kallian slammed his fist on the picnic table. “Are you seriously considering taking a child into the Nether?”

I clenched my fists. Fingernails forming indentions in the meat of my palm. “Celestine… you’ve drowned yourself in that lake. As have I,” I said. “When you’re at the bottom of that pool… watching your air disappear in a cloud of bubbles… it feels like you’re actually dying. Danni… she hasn’t even hit puberty yet. Do you want her to know what dying feels like before she’s even thirteen years old? What might that do to her mind? To her development?”

Celestine blushed dark red as I scolded her. She squeezed her eyes shut in shame. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” she hissed through clenched teeth. She motioned for Danni to join us. “Dannika, come here.”

The little girl sprang to her feet and brushed the snow off her dress. She bounded over to the picnic table where Celestine, Kallian, and I sat.

“Da, mamej?”

“Darling…” Celestine began haltingly. The corners of her mouth pulled down into a frown. Her expression softened as she gazed upon her daughter. In my mind, I saw the little girl sinking into the icy waters of Lake Luxem. Her terrified eyes the size of dinner plates as Death wrapped its frigid fingers around her throat. “I promised you we would go into the Nether. But… Mamej wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s been a difficult few weeks. In order to attune yourself to the portal, well… you have to drown yourself. Mamej doesn’t want that for you.”

Dannika immediately let out a shriek. “But ich vant to go!” she protested, flailing her arms like a toddler and bursting into furious tears. “Please, please, please, please!”

“See, this right here. This is a reason why she shouldn’t go,” Kallian interjected.

Celestine’s face turned red as she noticed the other refugees staring at us. “…Look, Danni,” she said, trying to calm the girl. “Mamej is sorry. I should not have promised that you could come. But - you’re just too little.”

Dannika started kicking the picnic table as hard as possible. “Ich vant to go! Ich vant to go! Ich can do it!”

Celestine floundered. She cast a panicked glance in my direction. For all her intelligence and ability, Celestine sometimes struggles with being a mother. I knew that was my cue to step in. “You are not going to the Nether,” I said. “And that is final.”

“You need to tell her no, Celestine,” Kallian said, watching the drama unfold.

Dannika looked toward her mother. “Vy said ich could go!” she shouted, her face turning scarlet with anger. “Please, please, please, Mamej! Vy said! Vy said!”

Celestine let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m afraid Auntie Tanith and Uncle Kallian are right, Danni… Sometimes grown-ups make mistakes and Mamej changed her mind.”

“But zhe portal is going to go avay!” Dannika whimpered. “Pleeeeeease!”

“Your life and health are more important than seeing what’s on the other side of that portal, Dannika,” I told her sternly. “It’s too risky. Neither I nor your Mamej want to see you drown.”

Dannika clasped her hands in front of her as if in prayer, fingers knitted. “Please!”

“Your ma said no, kid,” Kallian told her. “Quit pushing your luck.”

Suddenly, Danni’s sadness and desperation boiled over into red, hot anger. She whirled around to face Kallian and screamed directly in his face. “Shut UP, knife ear!”

Those words left the three of us - Celestine, Kallian, and me - speechless. Silence filled the air for a pregnant moment that seemed to last forever. Dannika’s tiny chest heaved with the force of her emotions. Finally, Celestine erupted.

“DANNIKA WITTENBACH!” she bellowed. “What in GOD’s good name did you just say?! How DARE you talk to him like that!”

“W-Where on earth did you learn that sort of language?” I stuttered out, still stunned.

“Zhe man in Oren!” Dannika replied. “He said ve zhould cut off their ears!”

Hearing those words coming from the mouth of a child… I can’t describe how it affected me. “You never, never, never call an elf that!” I said harshly. “And you never cut off an elf’s ears!”

“Zhe man in Oren said Ich could!” Dannika fired back. “Who cares vhat vy zhink!”

“Well, I’m your mother, and I’m telling you not to!” Celestine returned. “You won’t utter those words again! Until you apologize, you can forget ever going on any expeditions with us!”

“FINE!” Dannika shrieked. “I don’t vant to go on any dumb expedition vith vy anyway!”

“Go sit with your father in the tent. Now!” Celestine ordered. “You are in big trouble, young lady!”

Dannika swallowed her tears before getting up from the picnic table and storming off in the direction of the Wittenbach tent. Celestine’s anger held firm until her daughter was out of sight. A few tears slipped down her cheek as she cradled her head in her hands. “I’m… a failure of a mother,” Celestine uttered at last. “I can’t… believe I heard those words coming out of my own child.”

“She picked it up from some nasty cad in Helena,” I reassured Celestine before offering her my handkerchief. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m her mother! I should be… keeping track of her! I should know what kind of people she’s talking to!” Celestine replied. “I’m too weak to even tell her ‘no.’ What kind of parent am I? I’m losing her and she’s only eleven!”

“Don’t say that, Cellie,” I insisted. “She’s your child and she always will be. She’s… in the middle of a rebellious phase. She’s wrapped up in her stylish Helene friends… and she’s learned some bad behavior from them… But it’s not too late.”

“An eleven-year-old can’t hurt me,” Kallian shrugged. “Trust me, I’ve been called far worse than ‘knife ears.’”

“I need a moment,” Celestine hiccuped before abruptly standing up and hurrying off. She disappeared among the tents. Kallian and I watched her leave, neither of us willing to give chase.

“And I thought I was dramatic,” Kallian quipped. I hate to admit it, but I laughed a little. “My fiancee killed herself a few days ago. My own daughter doesn’t want me to raise her. Still, here I am. We’ve got no choice but to keep it together. A bratty kid throwing slurs isn’t going to put a damper on me.”

“Y-Your fiancee? Oh my God,” I uttered, turning to him with brows raised. “I’m - I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He fell quiet for a moment, silently regarding the snow falling softly around us. “It’s a tough spot to be in,” he observed casually as if commenting on the weather and not the death of a loved one. “But as long as I have things to keep my mind off of it, I’ll be fine. The Nether. My magic. And… the new frontier. Wherever we end up next.”

“Can I ask how it happened?” I ventured. “Of course, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel like it!”

Kallian shrugged. “We… had our issues, she and I did,” he began. “Everything used to be peachy, but we began fighting more and more. She went through a lot of trouble. Blamed herself for everything. For our relationship falling apart. The world going to Hell in a handbasket. Eventually… I suppose it got to her. She couldn’t keep carrying that burden around.”

“…That is dreadful to hear, Kallian,” I said solemnly. “I am so sorry she made that choice… and I truly wish that she hadn’t.”

Reaching a hand up, Kallian shook the snowflakes from his hair. “Yeah…” he exhaled softly. “Yeah.” Saying no more, he turned and made his way over to his tent.

Can we really travel into the Nether like this? I’m worried about Icroth. Celestine’s anxious about her daughter. Kallian lost his fiancee. Even Zodd is hurting. His entire direwolf pack died protecting him from the destruction of New Reza. We can’t afford to be sloppy and distracted in the Nether. One mistake might cost us our lives. If we step through that portal in a suboptimal state, well… we might not make it home again.

I have to convince Celestine to forgo the expedition. We can’t go. Not in our state.

 

Entry 120 –

1795

Spoiler

Celestine entered my tent during the early hours of the morning when the frost-touched fog still lay low across the refugee camp. The sky outside shone a pale-lavender blue with distant clouds swirling ‘round the nearby peaks. Her breath came in short, translucent puffs, even within the confines of the tent. “Here,” she said, handing me a red-dyed cloak. The fabric had a slick, oily texture that shimmered when it caught the tender, pre-dawn light. “If Kallian’s alchemical treatments are effective, the Athin coating ought to protect us from the fire.”

“Cellie,” I said, holding the folded cloak in my lap. “What happened with Dannika?”

Celestine’s mouth pressed into a thin, angry line. “No more talk of Dannika,” she murmured before opening her satchel and handing me a few more supplies. An insulated water canteen, a length of rope. “I’ll deal with it later. I’ve got shields too - Daemonsteel. If we run into a ghast again, it might save our lives.”

“Please, Cellie,” I said, reaching out to grasp her by the arm. “This… seems dangerous. We need to be in a stable place emotionally if we want to succeed. The Nether could… take advantage of our minds if we’re in a bad way.”

Celestine closed her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly. The warm breath streamed from her nose like smoke from the nostrils of a dragon. “I’ll be fine, Tanith,” she said, opening her eyes. “I’ve failed enough already. Come on, we need to fetch Zodd and Kallian. We’ve no time to waste.”

Once Celestine has set her mind on something, trying to change it is like trying to divert a river from its course. We were going to take one last trip to the Nether, no matter what. I couldn’t let Celestine and the others go by themselves. My magic might spell the difference between success and failure, life and death. Even if Cellie doesn’t want to admit it, she’s getting older. She’s not elven like me. The years have a palpable effect on her. I needed to be there to make sure she escaped alive, with all her limbs intact.

So I dressed in my adventuring clothes, tied the Athin cloak around my shoulders, and said no more.

We met Zodd and Kallian at the center of the camp. They were already dressed, packed, and ready to go. Celestine briefed us before we set out. “The attunement ritual for the portal involves an act of self-sacrifice,” she explained. “You have to drown yourself in the lake. But! Not to worry! You won’t stay dead.”

Kallian’s nose wrinkled. “Suicide by drowning. Sounds like a fun afternoon.”

“Everyone got your cloaks and your daemonsteel equipped? Canteens filled with water?” Celestine asked, looking over our attire and rucksacks. “Right, let’s be off.”

With that, we set out across the mountains toward Luxem. Valwyck proved to be a suitable staging area for our expedition since it’s quite close to Luxem. We followed a little-known goat-herding trail through the peaks and arrived outside of Luxem in a few short hours. Still no sign of the Paladins. I wondered if I would ever see Jack again. The last time I saw Jack was before my wedding to Icroth - over fifteen years ago now. Was he even still alive? Did he die fighting in Korvassa? And whatever became of Diomedes?

My life is one of many mysteries. Many stories that have no endings, many issues left unresolved. There’s often no choice but to keep moving forward.

We gathered on the lake’s edge. Crows perched atop the floating portal suspended above the water. Their caws broke the still morning air. “Right,” Celestine said. “So, into the lake we go. Whatever you do, don’t try to fight it. You’ll want more than anything to swim back to the surface, but try to resist the urge.”

“How did you figure out that this was the way to enter?” Kallian asked, regarding the grey waters uncertainly.

“Lauritz puzzled it out, actually,” Celestine replied. “He and I found this place and figured out the riddle on the pillars. Since then, we’ve traveled to the Nether a total of three times.”

“What’s the riddle say?” Kallian said, shading his eyes and peering at the floating ruins.

“Pillar of water seeks life to leech, where Hogmen revel in eternal feast,” Celestine recited. “That’s our objective for this trip. We want to locate a Nether fortress and observe the Hogmen in their natural habitat.”

“Shall I go through and wait for everyone on the other side, Cellie?” I asked.

She gave me an affirmative nod. “Please do, Tanith. Zodd, Kallian, I’ll stay here with you two.”

Leaving the group, I hopped across the floating stones toward the portal in the center of the lake. A film of swirling, purple light stretched between the stones. I plunged into the portal and my entire field of vision filled with purple. A moment later, the portal spat me out in the Nether lobby. Once I’d arrived on the other side, I settled down to wait for the others.

About half an hour later, Kallian came tumbling through the portal. He landed on his knees, coughing and spluttering with tears streaming down his face. “I’m alive,” he wheezed. “All right. Good. For a minute, I was worried you all tricked me into killing myself.”

“Ehehe,” I giggled, reaching down to offer my hand. “Welcome to the Nether.”

He took my hand and pulled himself to his feet. “So what is this place?”

“A sort of… holding zone,” I replied. “It’s the only safe spot in the entire Nether - and the only place with breathable air. You might want to take a moment to read the books around here. They’re very helpful!”

“Surprisingly welcoming,” Kallian observed, looking over the dusty shelves. “Guides left behind by previous expeditions? That’s something else. Why haven’t the Undead destroyed this place?”

“Maybe they don’t know about it,” I hypothesized. “If that’s the case, I’d rather not tell them!”

At that moment, Zodd staggered through the portal. “Augh!” he bellowed out, coughing and choking. He thumped his chest repeatedly. “I hate ponds! I hate lakes! I hate water!”

Celestine appeared a second after him, no worse for wear. “Welcome to the Nether, everyone,” she said. “What do all think about it?”

“Too much red,” Zodd grumbled. “They need a new interior decorator.”

“Far more comfortable than I was anticipating,” Kallian replied.

“Not so much once you leave the lobby, though,” Celestine said before directing us over to the pile of oxygen orbs in the corner. “Make sure your oxygen orbs are secure on your head before we head into the Nether proper. Keep them on at all times. You can feed water through the spout on the side. They last about an hour. We haven’t found a means to refill them yet, but… that’s another one of our goals for today. This might be our last chance to breech the Nether, so we need to be on our toes. Once we’re inside, keep moving and follow our lead.”

“Perhaps Tanith’s translocation can help us move faster,” Kallian suggested.

I frowned. “Shifting is… very demanding on my mana,” I said. “I estimate I can only shift us five times total before my mana stores run out. I don’t want to pass out on you all…”

Celestine nodded. “If we can reach a certain location by conventional means, we’ll try that first,” she said. “Tanith, I want you to save your mana for translocating. I’ll use my water evocation to keep us cool and protected from the fire. Kallian, I want you to save your mana for combat… if we’re unlucky enough to run into some more fire slugs… or worse, Undead.”

“And I’m the meat shield,” Zodd groused.

“Muscle is important too, Zodd!” Celestine chimed cheerily. “Once we find the air pocket, I want to plant our banner and leave a plaque to mark our progress. Are we all ready to go?” By then, we’d affixed the oxygen orbs on our heads. We gathered around the portal leading out of the lobby. “To new frontiers!” Celestine said, thrusting a fist in the air. One by one, we jumped through the swirling purple light. Celestine first, then me, then Zodd and Kallian.

We emerged on the other side. A wall of searing, oven-like heat slammed into us the moment we stepped through. No matter how many times I enter the Nether, I’ll never get used to the heat. It knocks the wind out of you, rendering you breathless. Within seconds, my clothes became drenched with sweat and stuck to my body. My oxygen orb immediately steamed up with condensation. A niggling, persistent headache throbbed at the back of my skull - the psychic fields of the Nether exerting their influence. We couldn’t waste a second. Celestine took off at a brisk pace and I followed after her.

The early obstacles presented no challenge for us, of course. We’ve learned how to bypass them. Celestine struggled with casting, though. Voidal evocation is more difficult in the depths of the Nether. I have three-hundred years of magical experience, but… Celestine does not. Her mana pools are much smaller than mine. She strained to keep our canteens cooled off. Washing our clothes of the gaseous fruits made her gasp with effort. We reached a small gap in the road where lava had burned away the brick. On previous expeditions, I conjured a blast of water to create a stone bridge. When Celestine tried the same technique, her magic failed and she couldn’t summon enough water to cool the lava.

At that point, I stepped in. “I think we need to try shifting,” I suggested.

Celestine gave a labored nod. “All right. Everyone, gather around Tanith.”

My three friends clustered around me. I drew my wand from its holster and called upon the magic of the Void. “Erm…” I began uncertainly. “…This is the first time I’ve tried shifting more than one person. And… ah… fair warning… You all are going to vomit the first time I do this. So try not to get the puke on the inside of your oxygen orbs…”

I followed the technique as Serenity taught it to me. I placed my marker on the opposite side of the lava gap. The mana enveloped my body… then extended to swallow the figures of my companions. I opened up a portal to the Void… and pushed the four of us through it.

The Nether has a strange effect on Voidal magic, it seems. Somehow, we overshot our destination by several hundred feet. We emerged on the far side of the gap - thankfully still on solid ground - but a few more feet and we would have translocated directly into a river of lava! We emerged right on the banks with the magma mere inches from our vulnerable feet. Zodd, Celestine, and I all immediately vomited. Our puke splashed on the searing ground and evaporated quickly into nothingness.

Once we’d rehydrated, we headed further down the path. We arrived at the floating islands, covered in balloon-like, gas-filled plants. Lava slugs roiled in the magma below the islands. I knew at once that we couldn’t reach the islands by conventional means. The last time we tried to cross via rope, which resulted in Icroth losing his leg. So I voidally shifted us a second time. Thankfully, my magic got us to the other side - and with minimal vomiting.

This was further than we had ever gone before. On our last expedition, we had to give up and double back once we reached the floating islands. Now, with my voidal translocation, we’d managed to make it past the islands without incident.

We found ourselves standing on a peninsula with no obvious way forward. The peninsula appeared to be melting under our very feet, with pieces of it slowly breaking off into the lava. Unsure of where to go next, we took a moment to assess our options. To the west lay a field of ever-burning flames. To the east, an ocean of magma. To the north… well, if we squinted, we could just make out the shape of a brick pillar extending upward from the lava.

Celestine paused to cool our canteens with magic. As she pulled forth the ice from the Void, extinguishing the last of her mana, she crumpled into Zodd’s arms. “I - I can’t keep doing this,” she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head. “I can’t go any further…” Just like that, she was out cold.

“We need t’ head back,” Zodd said, gathering Celestine in his arms and holding her bridal-style. “Let’s set up th’ banner an’ get outta ‘ere. We’re runnin’ outta air fast.”

“Wait…” Kallian murmured, squinting into the smoky mist. “What’s that?”

He pointed toward the brick pillar in the distance. I didn’t have my glasses on me, so I couldn’t quite see what he was talking about. Zodd shaded his eyes and peered into the murk. “Is that… air?” he murmured. “That’s got to be it. I don’t see any smoke over there. That’s got to be the air pocket - on top of that pillar! It’s right there!”

“That’s what we came here to find!” I exclaimed. “But - Celestine… We need to get her home. She’s out cold.”

“We might not ‘ave enough air t’ make it back t’ the portal,” Zodd replied. “So it’s goin’ t’ be a risk either way. I say we get up t’ th’ top o’ that pillar. World’s goin’ t’ shit. We might not make it another day. Might as well plant our goddamn flag on top o’ that pillar.”

“We don’t have the time to climb it. We’d run out of air before we reached the top,” I replied. “I’ll need to teleport us. But what if I overshoot again?”

Zodd shifted Celestine onto his back and shuffled closer to me. “We’ve got t’ give it a go. It’s what we fuckin’ came ’ere for,” he said. Kallian nodded in agreement as he linked his arm with mine.

I withdrew my wand and summoned my mana. “Dear God in Heaven,” I said. “If you can hear me down here, let my magic aim true!”

Well… unfortunately, it seems there’s no God down in the Nether. I opened up the portal and pushed the four of us through the Void. I expected us to emerge atop the pillar, but… we weren’t quite so lucky. My magic dropped us atop a floating bit of debris suspended by some of the balloon plants. It was near to the top of the pillar, but separated by a gap of several feet. A massive ocean of lava flowed beneath us. We clung to the floating rock, which was barely large enough to hold all three of us. “Why th’ HELL did ye teleport us ’ere, Tanith?” Zodd screamed.

“I made a mistake!” I spluttered, clinging to the rocks. “I overshot it! This was a bad idea!”

“Whatever you do, don’t pop these balloon plants!” Kallian cried out. “We’ll go plunging straight into the lava!”

“M-Maybe there’s a way we can n-nudge this rock toward the shore?” I stuttered, readjusting my grip on the stone. Sweat made my palms slippery and damp.

Zodd narrowed his eyes. He stared across the gap toward the pillar. It lay tantalizingly close. Near enough almost to touch, yet separated by a dangerous gap. “I can make that jump…” he mumbled. “Adventure’s not over yet. Right. So we’ve got us a choice. We’re either goin’ down or up.”

Kallian and I looked at each other… then down at the lava below. “Up,” we answered simultaneously.

Zodd reached for a length of rope hanging from his belt. He tossed it over to Kallian. “Tie this around yer waist,” he said. “Then try to jump over to th’ pillar. If ye fall, I’ll drag ye back up. Once yer at th’ top, tie th’ rope off so Tan an’ I can climb up after ye.”

“Time for me to make myself useful,” Kallian quipped as he tied the rope around his midsection. “Nowhere to go but up!” With that, his thigh muscles coiled and he sprang forward off the rock.

Kallian smacked into the pillar. His fingers scrabbled as he tried to find hand-holds. Zodd and I seized hold of the rope, ready to haul him back up if he slipped. Kallian’s elvish dexterity kicked in, though, and he secured a firm grip on the bricks. He turned and gave us an encouraging smile. We let the rope slacken a bit, watching intently as he scaled the side of the pillar. We held our breath… and didn’t breathe again until Kallian had safely reached the top.

“Air!” Kallian shouted to us. “It’s air! We were right! There’s air up here!”

“Don’t jus’ STAND THERE!” Zodd bellowed. “Tie off th’ rope an’ throw it down!”

Kallian untied the rope and lashed it to a bit of partially collapsed railing atop the pillar. He gave us a thumbs-up as he threw it back down. Zodd caught hold of the rope and handed it off to me.

“Ladies first,” he said.

I looked down at my palms, which were slick and drenched with sweat. I wiped the sweat off on my cloak and took the rope in hand. Holding the rope as tightly as possible, I swung over to the pillar and began to climb toward the air pocket.

Halfway up, my grip failed. The rope slid through my sweat-soaked hands and I began plummeting toward the lava. I let out a raw shriek.

“CATCH ME, CATCH ME, CATCH ME!”

Zodd lunged forward - nearly falling himself - and grabbed hold of my ankle. He pulled me back up onto the bit of floating debris. My heart hammered in my chest and my breath came in ragged gasps. Kallian gathered up the rope and threw it back down to Zodd. “Yer not gonna make it in yer state, Miss Tanith,” he grumbled to me. “Ye’ve used up too much fer yer mana.” That said, he tied the rope around my waist.

I couldn’t argue with him. By that point, I’d sweated out nearly every drop of water in my body. My head ached painfully with even the slightest movement. My casting had left me depleted. Our air supplies were rapidly running low and all I wanted to do was sit down and cry. Once Zodd had finished tying the rope, he gave the signal to Kallian. “Pull ’er up!”

Kallian’s arms tightened as he began hauling me up the side of the pillar. I helped as much as I could, finding handholds among the stones to support myself. The rope creaked and groaned under my weight. I feared I might look up, only to see the hemp fraying and about to snap. At last, I reached the top of the pillar. I scrambled onto solid land and clambered for the safety of the air bubble. My oxygen orb refilled to maximum the moment I entered.

Fresh, cool, breathable air rushed into my lungs and I nearly cried from relief. But we couldn’t waste a second. Zodd and Celestine had mere minutes of air, perhaps only seconds. I untied the rope from my waist and threw it back down to Zodd.

“Z-Zodd! You can’t climb with Celestine on your back! We… we need to pull you up!” I shouted to him. My throat wheezed from a lack of water. It felt as though I had dust clogging up my windpipe. Everything inside me felt shriveled and dry.

“Hurry th’ **** up, then!” he yelled back at us before securing the rope around his midsection.

Together, Kallian and I grabbed the rope and began to pull. Our muscles strained from the combined weight of Zodd and Celestine. Slowly, very slowly, we began to lug our friends up toward safety. “DAMN, you’re fat!” Kallian grunted as he dug in his heels and heaved as hard as he possibly could.

Below, we heard Zodd struggling to breathe.

“N-No… air…” he coughed.

“HOLD YOUR BREATH!” I screamed.

Kallian and I pulled the rope as hard and as fast as we could, dragging our friends upward inch by painful inch. The seconds ticked past like hours. I couldn’t hear Zodd below us. Was he holding his breath? Or had he suffocated? I feared that we might have two blue-faced corpses on the end of the line.

At long last, Zodd climbed onto the edge and tumbled into the air bubble. He inhaled an enormous lungful of clean air, then abruptly turned on Kallian. “Call me fat one more time…!”

“Is Celestine all right?” I asked, searching Cellie’s unconscious face.

“She’s still breathing,” Zodd confirmed.

For a moment, all we could do was sit and thank God that we’d made it. We had dry lips and parched throats from dehydration. Our heads throbbed from the influence of the Nether’s psychic fields. Our muscles ached from the exertion of traversing this hostile realm. But for a brief and shining minute, we could breathe easy.

After taking a moment to rest, we took the banner from Celestine’s pack and set it up within the air bubble. We left our plaque - which listed our names and the date - at the foot of the banner.

This was the text etched into the metal:

NGS Nether Expedition 1795

Celestine Herbert

Tanith Vursur

Kallian Syrivir

Zodd Calliban

We discovered that the pillar was connected to a catwalk that ran along the top edge of the Nether caverns. While exploring the walkway, we uncovered a small portal just large enough for a single person to fit through. When we entered the portal, we discovered that it took us straight back to the Nether lobby - a shortcut of sorts! We were all immensely grateful to return to home and safety. Of course, I made sure Celestine received medical care as soon as we returned to Valwyck. She was badly dehydrated and her mana stores depleted, but otherwise unhurt. She’ll make a full recovery.

In short, our final Nether expedition was entirely successful. We discovered the air pocket. We left our mark upon the Red Realm. We didn’t see a Hogman, but I don’t mind that. I’m just glad we achieved some of our objectives and escaped unhurt.

In a few days, we’ll be leaving Arcas behind for good. We achieved something while we were here, though. I’m proud. I’m proud of the NGS and everything we’ve done. We built museums. We published studies. We learned new things. We made true friends all across Arcas. And we explored further into the Nether than anyone ever did.

 

Entry 121 –

1797

Spoiler

It's been a while, diary. I've got some catching up to do. We've crossed the sea and settled in an entirely new land - Almaris!

Following our last successful dive into the Nether, we returned to Valwyck and prepared to depart aboard the Odyssey. We boarded our steamship and set a course according to the sea charts given to us by Edward Napier. We left a few days ahead of the Haensi and Imperial fleets as we planned.

What followed was, honestly, some of the most miserable months I've experienced in a long time. Deep sea travel does not agree with me. I've traveled by boat and ferry before, of course, but usually just to islands off the coast. Crossing the ocean, however, is an entirely different beast. Boat travel across short distances doesn't bother me, but months-long ocean journeys have a terrible affect. Rediscovering that I'm prone to seasickness was... well, not fun, to put it extremely mildly. It's easy to forget when you only travel across the ocean once every century or so. The pitch and swell of the enormous waves... it wrecks me! I spent practically our entire journey below deck on the Odyssey, ill to the point of immobility.

That's why I haven't written in a while. How could I hope to write in my condition? Not to get too disgusting, but a part of me worried I might... well... lose my stomach in the middle of writing an entry! If that happened, I'd lose hundreds of pages of work! It would ruin my diary!

But, moving on -

We had a brief stopover on the island chain that Cellie mentioned. From there, the Odyssey rejoined the Haensi fleet. I can't report much from the stopover since I was still quite sick and relegated to bed. Scouts from the Haensi and Imperial fleets reported a large land mass up ahead that seemed perfect for our needs. So, we set sail for what we hoped would be our future home. The Haensi fleet opted to settle in the northern past of the land mass, which we have dubbed 'Almaris.' The Imperial Navy split off and sailed toward the southeast, where they established their capital of Providence.

Providence - that name encapsulates the Imperial mindset well, don't you think? Striding boldly into the future under the care and keeping of God. It's a pretty sentiment to be sure. As for the people of Haense, they named their capital Karosgrad. 'Grad' is a New Marian suffix referring to cities, of course. And 'Karos' is derived from Karovic - the original name of House Carrion before they were called Carrion. It's a name that's very indicative of a return to traditionalism and one's roots.

The opposite philosophies behind the naming schemes are not lost on me. Edward mentioned to me that he was afraid Haense might be embracing traditionalist social politics to further establish their independence from the more liberal-minded modern Empire. It worries me as well, as an elven woman and a mage of many years. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place if Haense decides to undo its protections for elves and the magically-inclined. But! I did get some good news today from Providence... I'll get to that later, though.

Due to my illness, I'm afraid I was entirely useless during the Karosgrad construction efforts. But it appears they didn't really need me! I must say, human work-ethic and ingenuity always surprises me. I feel as though I blinked and suddenly they'd built a functioning city. Karosgrad seemingly appeared overnight, popping up like a mushroom after a rainstorm. The capital of Haense is a riotous celebration of Raevir architecture, which reflects the traditionalism embodied in its name. Strong, red walls encapsulating an explosion of color. Onion domes aplenty, of course! It wouldn't be a Raevir town without them.

When I first laid eyes on the city, all I could think of was the tiny town of Kralta back in Anthos. I remembered the humble, frowning, awkward, ungainly Lord Siegmund Carrion in his half-decayed fortress. I wonder what he would think of this city named in honor of his family. This city that wouldn't exist if he hadn't met and fallen in love with my dear friend Lorin. The Barbanovs are scions of the Tuvic line. Every last one of them traces their lineage back to my friend. A family tree with thousands of individuals springing from a single root.

I have been thinking a lot about family lately. More than usual, I mean. I know the topic of family is... recurring for me. But we'll put a pin in that thought for now as well. I'll get to it later.

Of course, the Barbanovs made sure that we had a proper museum in Karosgrad! I didn't believe any place would top our Flagship museum in New Reza... but this one is even better than before! The New Reza museum occasionally felt a little dank and gloomy. We didn't have a single window in the entire place, so it gave the feeling of being underground inside a cave. I'm happy to say that problem's been rectified! Our new museum is full of big windows and skylights to let in the sunshine. We've yet to set up any of our exhibits (repatriating items from the Void is a time-consuming and quite tiring process for me), but we have so much more space than before! I can't wait to begin filling our halls up with beautiful artifacts and artworks from history.

We have two exhibition halls specifically for rotating exhibits. Part of my duties as curator will be to come up with concepts to draw in visitors. (I get my own office now as well! Oh, how exciting!) I've already got ideas. We need to launch our Notable Women exhibition, of course. I'm also considering a Farewell-To-Arcas exhibition, where we display items from the old world.

I brought up my ideas at our yearly NGS meeting, which we held today in our brand new meeting room! (It's beautiful and much more spacious than the previous meeting spot in the archives.) Other items on the docket included promoting Kallian to the Circle and nominating him as head of the Exploration Division. Celestine also confirmed Edward Napier as head curator of our Providence Museum. He's working on securing a location and re-affirming our tax exempt status. Edward mentioned he'd be in talks with the Chancellery very soon. In addition, we debriefed our latest Nether mission and updated everyone on our progress. "The discovery of an air pocket within the Nether might be our greatest achievement yet!" Celestine said. Kallian stated that one of his goals as Exploration Leader will be to search for another functioning Nether portal. He plans to comb Almaris from North to South and make maps along the way. With that, our meeting was adjourned.

Edward approached me in the hallway outside of the meeting room. "Tanith, if you have a moment, my dear," he said to me, "Let's have a chat before I catch the train back to Providence."

"Oh, why, of course!" I replied. "We can meet in my office."

I lead him downstairs into the archives. My office is nestled in a little alcove among the bookshelves. Goodness me, I felt so important and official sitting behind that big wooden desk! In five hundred years of life, I've never had my own office. It'll take some getting used to, but I'm delighted by it.

Edward seated himself in a chair across from my desk and glanced around admiringly. "I remember you telling me once that you could never imagine yourself as a scholar or an adventurer," Edward commented with a smile. "You've entirely changed."

"I used to be shocked at the idea of women wearing pants," I giggled. "Now I'm wearing pants! Well... sometimes, at least. I've changed so much, I hardly recognize myself anymore. But in a good way."

Edward nodded, smiling. "The NGS has come so far. It's amazing that it all started from one little meeting in Helena in a tiny office the size of a closet."

A strange, soft sort of melancholy descended over me in that moment. "I wonder what they would think of me now," I mused.

I didn't have to explain who 'they' were. Edward knew it implicitly. "Proud," he said. "Conflicted, I imagine. But proud."

"Ehehe, I'm not sure they'd appreciate the new me," I mumbled. "I read Thomas's memoirs again recently. He praised how quiet and hardworking and dutiful I was. Looking back, that girl doesn't even sound like me."

"You're still hardworking and dutiful, I'd say," Edward said. "But quiet? No, no. You've found your voice and you use it. Blessedly so and to great effect."

"It didn't seem to have a great effect on Ostromir," I sighed. "I hear Providence is so beautiful. I wish I could see it myself."

"You can and you will," Edward announced, slapping my desk with a flat palm. "That's what I wanted to tell you. Ostromir is out! Kicked to the curb! Taken out with the rest of the trash!"

My eyes widened. "What?" I spluttered. "How - ?"

"He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he's reaping exactly what he sowed," Edward huffed. "I have a friend who is a doctor of renowned skill. A high elf woman. She was searching for employment at the Trissingham Palace. Ostromir wouldn't hire her unless she had a working knowledge of alchemy. So my friend, Dr. Mayan Avern, asked him to teach her in the art. He refused! For no reason other than the fact that Mayan is an elf!"

"That sounds like Ostromir," I sighed. "To him, I had no name other than 'elfski.' Which... isn't even a New Marian word! The New Marian word for elf is 'Malzy!'"

"He's an awful fake in every way," Edward said, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands atop his crossed legs. "But anyway, Mayan told me about it, of course. And I immediately wrote to my good friend, Imperial Princess Wilhelmina Beatrix. Within half an hour, his fate was sealed! He's going to be fired - and sent far away to some Godforsaken village in the north."

"Thank goodness..." I sighed with relief. "There's some justice in this world after all... I only wish he'd stood trial for everything he did."

"If the Unionists secure a sweeping victory in the House," Edward said, reaching over to grasp my forearm, "they might be able to lobby for Solicitor-General Baelius to be fired and for the case to be reopened. If you wanted, we could still bring it before the courts."

I blinked. "Unionists? I'm not familiar with that party."

"A splinter of the Everardines," Edward explained, retracting his hand. "The Unionists are mostly focused on smaller government and limiting the powers of officials. They've... adopted your case as a symbol of corruption within the Josephite party. Even seven years after the fact, no Josephite has responded to or addressed your criticisms."

"They swept me under the rug," I murmured.

"That's why the Solicitor-General barely investigated my case. They wanted to make me go away."

"They did," Edward said. "I doubt you want to be used as a political football. But we need your support behind the Unionists if we ever want a shot at solving your case legally. I want to publish the evidence we've got against Ostromir. Name him and shame him. I'd like to interview you about your experiences and publish them."

"Won't Ostromir dismiss this as a Muldavian plot?" I asked, my brows knitting in thought. "Isn't that the position he's taken on the situation? That it's Haensi propaganda?!"

"We've plenty of material to prove that isn't the case," Edward replied. "He can shout about Muldavian plots all he likes. People will recognize it as baseless fearmongering and conspiracy nonsense."

I reached into my purse and pulled out my diary. "Would this help?" I asked, showing Edward my little leather journal. It's red, with the sigil of Kaedrin embossed on the front. A five-petaled white rose with five green leaves and a yellow center.

"Your diary? Most certainly," Edward said.

I opened up my diary and found the entries concerning my kidnapping at the hands of Ostromir. With a single motion of my wrist, I ripped them out... and handed them across the desk to Edward. "Publish them, please," I said. "If you care to."

Edward took the pages in hand. He folded them delicately and tucked them into his waistcoat. "Of course. I'll be interviewing you in the coming days. We're going to win this thing, Tanith. Justice will be done one way or another." With that, he got up to leave.

As Edward was heading out, James popped his head into the office. "So this is where you're hiding," he commented, strolling into the room with his hands in his pockets. "Cozy. Plenty of shelf space."

"Isn't it nice?" I smiled and gestured for him to sit down. James slid into the chair which had, a moment before, been occupied by Edward. "Were you taking a look around the museum? Or... were you eavesdropping?"

"When I hear a fascinating conversation, I can't help but listen," James answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "If it were me, I'd want to make an example of him too. Let everyone know that his behavior won't be tolerated. Losing his job... that's something. But nothing will change if people don't know exactly why he's been fired."

"It seems impossible to make wealthy people answer for their crimes," I exhaled. "But I've been very lucky in my life so far. Maybe I'll keep being lucky and Ostromir will get his." Not wanting to linger much more on the subject of my torture, I moved on. "I'm glad you came by. I was hoping you wanted to keep working with me on the Junior NGS?"

"Yeah, sure," James answered. "Except..." He lapsed into silence. I studied him from across the desk. James's sly smile faded from his face as he glanced around the office. "Everything is weird now," he said, rubbing his neck and looking to the side.

"Oh..." I suddenly realized what he meant. "I forgot. It's your first time."

"Why is everyone acting so casual?" he asked, returning his gaze to meet mine. "They're treating it as if it's no big deal. We were forced from our homes and migrated en masse to a different continent... and people are talking about it as though we just moved down the street. Like nothing's changed. That's not what happened."

I'd never heard James speak so seriously. Normally, he's relaxed. A little bit flippant, but in a charming way. I frowned. "What's your perspective on it?" I inquired.

"Helena is gone," James said with a gravity I wouldn't have expected from him. "The village where I grew up? Gone. The tavern where I met Yuliya? Gone. My first apartment? Gone. Luna's room? The basement where I held the first Helena Midnight Melee? The stage where I made my acting debut? Gone. Gone. Gone." He slumped in his chair, draping his neck over the back. "Not to mention my bank and all of my funds. I had a trust fund and now I'm broke."

I've written it before, but... James reminds me of me. So much so. In his words, I recognized a pain I've felt a thousand times. I bit my bottom lip.

"Nothing prepares you for it," I said after a moment's silence. "I've... told you about this. But... a facet of elven life... of the long lives we are simultaneously blessed and cursed to live... is the fact that there are places we can never go back to. In a way, everyone experiences that to greater and lesser degrees. Places change over time. But for us, it's different. The longer you live, the more places will only exist in your memories." I thought of the rose bush that grew under my window in Anthos. "There are places I would give an arm and a leg to see again, even for a moment."

"How do you handle it?" James asked - and there was an aching sincerity to his tone.

I reached up to my neck and pushed my hair aside. Around my throat hung a bronze locket. I unclasped the latch and let the pendant drop into my palm. Inside the locket was a miniature painting of the Helena skyline. Gently, I placed it on the desk in front of James. "Zodd gave this to me on my wedding day," I said to James. "Do you remember it?"

"Vaguely..." James took the locket in his hands. He held it with great delicacy - as though it were a fragile blossom or a hatching egg. "Didn't realize how good of a keepsake it was."

"Helena is something of a mixed bag for me," I said. "For obvious reasons. It's the place where I met you and Edward and my husband. But... well, what happened with Ostromir tainted it for me. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I think Helena might've meant more to you than it did for me. If you want the locket, it's yours."

James hesitated for a moment. He closed the locket with his thumb and tucked it gently into the breast pocket of his waistcoat. "Thank you," he muttered.

"The first is always the hardest," I reassured him. A part of me felt grotesque for suggesting that he'd adjust to the apocalypse. But what else could I say? It was true.

"You've been well?" James asked, changing the subject. "I haven't seen Icroth lately."

I frowned. "I haven't heard from him since we set out," I said. "My hope is that his ship hit some delays or... oh, I don't know. I would send out letters, but there's no telling where he is."

"He'll turn up," James replied. "He's tough."

"He is." I managed to smile. "God will guide him back to me, I'm sure of it."

I said earlier in this entry that I've been thinking about family a lot lately. We live in a world of impermanent things. Empires rise and fall in a repeating cycle. Cities burn to the ground, then they're rebuilt. Kingdoms split and merge. Items get lost, destroyed, broken. Humans reach the end of their short lives and die. I married Icroth because I wanted something that would last. When the world falls away... when we have to uproot everything we know and move somewhere else... I'd still have Icroth through it all. Centuries might pass, but he'd still be there. We elves have no choice but to cling to each other. Our love for each other is the only thing in this world that can truly, truly last.

"James..." I began. "Would you... would you mind if I said something strange?"

James smiled. "I relish the strange."

"Would you..." I wracked my brain for how to phrase the request properly. "Would you consider, maybe... letting Icroth and I adopt you?"

James's face went blank. "...Oh!" he exclaimed and seemingly didn't know what else to say.

I felt my cheeks heat up and turn dark. "I-If that's too much, I understand," I stuttered out, feeling embarrassed for having asked.

"No, no!" James held up his hands. "... What do you mean by it, exactly? I'm not a child anymore."

"You don't stop being family when you grow up, do you?"

"No, but... typically... hrm..." He trailed off, his brow furrowing.

I stumbled to explain myself. "S-Somehow, when we talk... I always find myself giving you advice and fussing over you," I uttered. "And when I look at you... you... remind me of myself in so many ways. I know I can fuss and lecture and give advice without being your mother, but... but... I've always wanted a family. And... you feel like you could be family. If you wanted to be."

"Have you spoken to Icroth?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It occurred to me on the trip over here," I said with a sheepish smile. "Seeing yet another continent succumb to an apocalypse, well... It makes you think. About permanence and impermanence. It makes the bonds between elves so much more important. I'd have to talk to Icroth before we made anything official, but... I don't think he'd mind."

"My first thought is..." James averted his eyes, glancing down and to the side. The corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile... and if I'm not mistaken, I saw a hint of a flush rise into his pale cheeks. "I don't dislike the idea. I've already changed my name once, might as well do it again. No big deal." The joking, casual, flippantly charming tone returned to his voice. "What are the house rules? Is Icroth going to make me quit drinking?"

I laughed. "No, no! My thought is... we'll figure it out as we go along. You don't have to change your name. The same with calling anyone 'mother' or 'father.' The trappings are secondary to the relationship if you ask me. We're grown adult people. We can decide on whatever fits best. The bottom line is... I want you to be my family. And everything else is frosting on the cake."

"You've got to have some rules. How else will people know you're my mother?" James joked.

"How about..." I suggested. "You visit once a Saint's Week and we have a nice talk like this. And you have to introduce me to any girlfriends. Once they're serious, at least. You have to make your bed... and you mustn't let the laundry pile up... And... I'll only bail you out of jail once every fifty years, so make it count."

James grinned. "Fifty years. That's doable."

I'll likely never know who my parents were. They're probably long dead. As for my descendants, the Toovs... if they still exist, they're across the ocean in Aeldin...

But families don't have to be born. They can be made. Love isn't just reserved for the people who share your bloodline. James isn't my biological child. He doesn't look like me one bit. He doesn't have grey skin or red eyes... or pink hair. But he can be my son all the same, so long as we have love.

 

Entry 122 –

1797

 

Spoiler

They've decorated Karosgrad for Tuvmas - and I must say, the Haensi citizens really went all out! In the square, they've erected a massive Tuvmas tree as tall as a church steeple. At night, the streetlights twinkle off its myriad and multicolored ornaments. I could sit for hours and admire it. The shops along the main drag are strung with garlands, holly, mistletoe, and glitter. Everything smells of pine, gingerbread, cinnamon, and crackling logs. Of course, the Haensi people take Tuvmas very seriously! St. Tuvya is the reason Haense exists in the first place!

I myself got a very nice Tuvmas present recently - a pair of elf ears! Zodd somehow found the perfect donor for me. Truth be told, I was beginning to lose faith that I'd ever find someone to donate. St. Tuvya must have heard my Tuvmas wish! (Does that make Zodd one of St. Tuv's little goblins? He does claim that he's a quarter orcish... a bit big to be a goblin though!) I have the ears frozen in storage until we can meet with Fiil'Yar. They're the perfect size and color - long, slender, and pale as milk. I do hope that they'll be the right shade once they're attached. We could always tattoo them if they turn out too light, I suppose.

Zodd informed me the ears came from a girl named Shara. In his travels, he came across a high elven woman being attacked by a wolf. He fought off the wolf and rushed her to the nearest medical clinic, but it was too late. Her injuries took their toll. Before she died, he made a request for her ears. The girl, thankful that Zodd had assisted her, agreed to donate them. Her earrings - little blue sapphires - are still attached... a somewhat grisly detail. Zodd couldn't tell me her last name, nor where she came from. I wish I knew more. Perhaps Fiil could call upon her spirit so we could talk to her. I'd like to thank her properly for the gift - and possibly return the earrings to her family. I'm sure her loved ones would love to have them as a memento.

I wonder if Serenity might know her.

Oh, yes -- I heard from Serenity and Ivaeri recently! One of Serenity's Sorvians fluttered into my office the other day. I lost touch with Serenity and Ivaeri during the Inferi attacks. Part of me worried they hadn't made it to Almaris, but it seems they're doing fine! They've settled in Amathea, an elven city to the southwest. We'll be resuming our Voidal Translocation lessons soon - and preparing to start on Water Evocation. I'll be heading down to the Crown of Elvenesse soon! I'm excited about the opportunity to travel outside Karosgrad. One of the NGS's newest members - a dwarf (!!!) named Kóri Sevrishsson - published a map of the continent. Almaris is enormous and there's so much to see. Our Exploration Division really has their work cut out for them.

Speaking of - Kallian and Zodd mounted an expedition to a desert in the south a few weeks ago. The desert used to be an inland sea, but the water dried up and left behind a bowl of sand. They made a note of the area's many curious features. The sands are dotted with shipwrecks stranded atop rock pillars and desiccated lumps of dead coral. They found a bizarre tower with a staggeringly gigantic snake statue wound around its length. Kallian also mentioned that he stumbled on an unactivated portal in the new Silver State of Haelun'or. It might be our key to re-entering the Nether and pushing forward with our research there. Kallian's going to investigate it further.

Poor Kallian... I'm worried about him. He's so young - only about fifty years old - yet he's already suffered a great deal of hardship. Shockingly, his fiancee seems to have arisen from the dead! She left behind a suicide note and disappeared, leading Kallian to think the worst. Yet she resurfaced recently, fully alive and no worse for wear! She and Kallian have a terribly turbulent relationship. They argue nonstop. She's unfaithful. She's struck him on occasion during their fights (though he's never hit her back). They've broken apart and gotten back together more times than anyone could count. Yet he claims to love her despite all the trouble, even though it's obvious that the relationship is making him desperately unhappy. He's throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about her and their children. I told him he needs to get away from that woman. There are other fish in the sea - beautiful girls who will adore him and treat him well. I don't know if my advice sank in, though.

As for me, I'm working on our upcoming exhibits while we go through the slow process of repatriating our artifact collection. James inspired me to develop a 'Farewell-to-Arcas' showcase. We'll be researching important events that occurred during the Arcan era - such as the Pertinaxi dominion, the War of Two Emperors, the crowning of Empress Anne I, Haensi secession, etcetera! I'm going to start watching the local auction houses for memorabilia from Arcas that we might purchase and display. We also have our Notable Women of Human History exhibition, which is ready for launch as soon as we get the pamphlets back from the printing house.

It's wonderful to be so busy!

I've decided to drop the case against Ostromir too. Edward and I were thinking about pursuing it through the Orenian court system, but... then Edward spoke to the Solicitor-General. The old Solicitor-General, Mr. Baelius, got fired and replaced. We hoped that the new one would be more sympathetic to our cause, but it seems that's wishful thinking. The new Solicitor-General, a man named Olivier Halcourt, dismissed my case as nothing more than hearsay. Just 'he-said-she-said' with no firm proof either way. It's a lost cause because so much of my evidence was erased in the Inferi attack on Helena. My eyewitnesses are either dead, like Friar Boniface, or otherwise inadmissible. In other words - I said Ostromir assaulted me. He said he didn't. Both of our testimonies hold equal weight in court and there's no way to prove who did what. The only way I'll ever see justice is if Ostromir confesses.

It's a fact that someone assaulted me. We have the medical records to prove that I was injured. But the Solicitor-General and the Ministry of Justice don't want to investigate any further. It's a crime with no culprit. Simply put, they don't care enough to find out who hurt me. Their negligence injures me worse than the crime itself. To think, I happily served Oren for hundreds of years... but when the time came for Oren to serve me - to take care of me, to protect me - Oren failed.

It's a bitter pill to swallow.

Serenity once said to me that she had no permanent home. She travels from nation to nation. Spending a few years here, a half-century there. Maybe she has the right idea. For now, I reside in Haense - but who knows how long that will last? I remain here for the sake of the NGS and my human friends. But... eventually, their lives will pass and the NGS will fade away into memory.

Just like the White Rose.

Where will I go next? I've never tried living among my own kind. I wonder where the dark elves are settled these days. Maybe I should give them another try. Not yet, of course. But in time -- when Celestine is gone and the NGS no longer needs me.

Wherever I go, though, Icroth and James will be with me.

Icroth... I'm still praying for you to come home, my darling. I know you're out there. Please find your way back to me soon.

 

Entry 123 –

1797

Spoiler

Sometimes, you're left wondering if God can hear you all the way up in the Seven Skies. Sometimes, you feel as though your voice isn't strong enough to reach Heaven. But then there are other times when it feels as though you're whispering directly in God's ear and He hears every last wish you make.

Icroth is home.

Writing those words, I can't help but smile. It's been two long years since we landed in Almaris. Every day, I kept an eye out for any sign of my handsome husband - but no signs appeared. I tried not to worry. Icroth's strong, after all. We elves are a resilient people, able to recover from nearly any setback. He would return to me someday, certainly. Even so, there was a little, niggling doubt in the corner of my mind. What if Icroth was somewhere on the bottom of an icy seabed, hidden under the detritus of a shipwreck? At night, I lay in bed and... I couldn't help myself. I'm a worry wart. I thought of him slipping away underneath black waves, never to be heard from again.

Looking back, I almost want to laugh at myself for being so worried! I knew God would hear my prayers and bring him home to me.

We ran into each other in the silliest way too. Imagine me sitting at one of the tavern's outdoor tables. A dozen books spread out around me. Papers everywhere. Completely absorbed in my work. All of a sudden, a shadow fell across my table, blocking my light. When I looked up... why, there he was! My husband, standing right there! He snuck up on me completely silent!

I sprung up out of my chair and flung my arms around his neck. "Icroth!" I shouted so loud that the whole square heard me. My cry caused a few of the crows perched on a nearby rooftop to scatter.

He laughed and pulled me tight into his arms. Oh, he smelled just like I remembered. Wood smoke, oak moss, dried leaves, and sunlight. I could have stayed there in his embrace forever, with my face buried in his fur cloak. He kissed the side of my head and squeezed me so close I felt my breath leave my body. "I knew I would find you here," he whispered.

I drew back and looked him up and down. His appearance was more haggard than when last I saw him - his cheeks thinner, eyes more sunken. Yet still the same Icroth I fell in love with. "Where have you been?" I asked him. My eyes stung with tears.

"Ship wrecked!" Icroth laughed breathlessly, wiping the tears from my eyes with his thumb. "I wasn't expecting to see a city when I arrived here. I must've fallen pretty far behind."

"Two years, darling!" I replied. "I was beginning to lose hope that I would ever see you again!"

He smiled. That fascinating smile of his enchants me every time. "I'm safe now," he reassured me. "We both are."

People must have been staring at us, hugging like that outside in broad daylight, but I didn't much care. Eventually, though, I had to pry myself out of his arms. There was so much I needed to show him! Our home! The new museum! My office!

I figured we'd start with the little apartment that Celestine and Otto gave us above Wittenbach Emporium. Icroth needed to unpack his things. He carried his every last possession in a rucksack on his shoulder. Hand in hand, I lead him over to Otto's shop. Our room - a tiny apartment just big enough for the two of us - sit at the top of the stairs on the third floor. There's a sign above our bedroom door that says 'Tanith + Icroth' on it. When Icroth saw the sign, he couldn't help but smile a little bit.

"I'm glad nobody lost hope," he said.

We unpacked his rucksack and got his clothes stowed away in the drawers. The entire time, I couldn't stop staring at him... as if he might disappear the moment I turned my back. He and I have been married well over fifteen years now, but he's been absent for a significant part of that. Honing his Xannic abilities in solitude. But now I have him again and I don't want to let him go, even for a second.

As we were unpacking, I heard a sound in the shop below. As much as I hated to part from Icroth, I excused myself to go check what was happening.

Who should I see as I rounded the corner but a certain wood elf in a green trenchcoat? James smiled at me. "I was looking for you," he said. "Figured I'd check here first."

My face broke into a huge smile. "James! Wait right here," I told him before scurrying back upstairs. I hurried back to the bedroom where I found Icroth sitting on the foot of the bed. "I forgot to tell you, darling," I said, flashing a teasing smile, "but we have a son."

Icroth's eyes widened. "We have a - what?!" he exclaimed, shooting to his feet immediately. "A son?! And you didn't mention anything? Tanith!"

"He's downstairs!" I laughed. "Come on, I want you to meet him!" With that, I took Icroth by the hand and pulled him toward the stairs down into the shop.

Icroth did a double-take when he saw James waiting for us on the ground floor. "Wait -- " he stuttered. He looked at me, then back at James. "This is... our new son?"

I twirled a strand of hair around my finger.

"Mind you, it's not official yet..." I murmured. "We were waiting for you to return before we made a final decision... But I thought... well... he doesn't have a family. So... perhaps we could adopt him."

A slow smile spread over Icroth's face. "Family is however we decide to define it. The ones we care about and choose to be around. Aye. I'm alright with it." He opened his arms to hug James. "Welcome to the family, son."

Their first hug as father and son was a little stiff and awkward, but... I really couldn't have asked for a lovelier family moment. Icroth laughed and patted James firmly on the back. "I'll get better at this type of thing, I promise," he reassured James. "I'm proud to call you my son."

Afterward, the three of us took a tour around the new museum. Icroth was so impressed! "I thought the place back in New Reza was impressive," he commented as we looked around the new exhibit halls, "but this place takes the cake." After I showed him around the museum, we sat down at the tavern to catch up. I had to know all about the shipwreck that prevented him from reaching Karosgrad. Icroth sighed as he settled down in a chair near the tavern hearth. "It was awfully boring, truth be told," he grumbled.

"Boring?" I said, sitting beside him. James slid onto the bench next to me. "You were shipwrecked! And - stranded for two years! How on earth is that boring?"

"We got stuck on some Godforsaken rock up north. Right off the shore," he replied, unclasping his fur cloak and draping it over the back of the chair. "Tundra. Nothing but white as far as the eye could see. Huge spikes of ice jutting up from the earth."

"Didn't even wreck somewhere tropical." James shook his head disapprovingly. "Tsk, tsk."

"No beautiful island elf girls to greet you, I take it," I teased and Icroth laughed.

"Only in my dreams," he sighed, giving me a playful wink. "But even if there were, I knew I had a plenty beautiful elf girl waiting for me. It took a while to navigate through the ice fields. But I finally got my hands on a map and made my way here to Haense."

"What about the Paladins?" I asked. "Have you heard from them? I don't even know if Jack's still alive. I think he might've used his powers up fighting the Inferi..."

Icroth shrugged. "I've not been in touch with him either, Tanith. I've not been in touch with anyone for the last two years. There's no use in conjecture, though. I'll reach out to him."

"What will you do if he's gone?" I inquired.

"Move forward," Icroth grunted. "That's all I can do."

"That's not an answer," James scoffed.

"He's right," I added.

"You're right. Both of you." Icroth glanced off to the side. The dancing firelight reflected in his pale eyes. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I suppose I have not thought that far ahead, truth be told. I'll figure something out. To change the subject, though... have you done much traveling, Tanith?"

"Oh - I haven't been outside of Haense," I admitted. "Though I'd like to travel. I want to head down to Elvenesse sometime soon. My magic tutors live there. Oh, Icroth! I can't wait for you to meet Serenity and Ivaeri!" I clapped my hands together. "I've mentioned you to them, but never had a chance to introduce you." I giggled to myself. "I bet they think I made a husband up in my imagination..."

Icroth grinned. "Well, I'll just try to be even more elusive so you can never prove them wrong."

I huffed and punched him in the arm. "I forgot just how annoying you are! Absence really does make the heart grow fonder..."

"I had to remind you at double-speed," he teased back.

We all shared a laugh and made plans to visit Elvenesse together soon - our first trip as a family! Icroth quickly settled into his role as father. By the end of our visit, he was calling James 'son' without a hint of irony. (Well, perhaps a little bit of irony.)

As we got up to leave, James asked an interesting question. "So," he began, "is it really official? Don't we need to go register at the town hall or something like that?"

"Ah..." I hesitated, frowning. "I need to check the Haensi laws regarding adoption... But... well, we are elves. If we live the full length of our life, the laws change around us many times. I see no reason why we can't just... decide."

"If it becomes a problem," Icroth said, "we'll just say we adopted him in Oren."

"Until we're in Oren. Then we'll say you adopted me in Sutica," James quipped.

"I imagine the adoption laws are framed around things like... succession and inheritance and property rights," I mused. "Things of that nature. Which... do not really apply to us. We don't own property. Or anything of real monetary value."

"Spoken like a true second-class citizen," Icroth groused.

"We have our love," I said. "And that's priceless."

James snorted. "And uninheritable."

"Doubt you joined this family to inherit our vast fortunes," Icroth fired back. "Seems you'll have to settle for love."

James flashed a grin. He tilted his head toward me. "She might find some priceless 14th century artifact in the back of her closet," he said. "You never know. I've chosen the horse I'm backing either way. Inheritance or no."

At that, Icroth smiled. "Seventeen ninety seven. The year we became a family."

1797 Imperial Standard Time. Year 2 of the Second Age. I'll remember this year for the rest of my life. The year I found my forever-family.

My hope is that, wherever I end up in the future, I'll have Icroth and James beside me.

 

Entry 124 –

1799

Spoiler

We took our first trip together as a family today - Icroth, James, and me. A few days ago, we made plans to visit Elvenesse. I figured it was only appropriate we take our first trip there, seeing as we are a family of elves. Ever since my first visit to Siramenor with Juan, Elvenesse has held a special place in my heart. The destruction of the Siramenor coast at the hands of the Inferi broke my heart. I'd heard that the Elves settled on a peninsula to the southwest. I wanted to visit and see if Elvenesse was just as beautiful as I remembered it.

Almaris is connected by a series of magical portals, which makes travel easy. There's a portal located just northwest of Haense in a place called the Rimeveld. When you step into the portal, it whisks you away to a travel hub located at the Cloud Temple. From there, you can select one of four portals that instantaneously transport you to different spots all across Almaris. It's wonderfully convenient, I must say. If we tried to reach Elvenesse by foot, it would be a difficult hike over vast, uncharted mountains and plains - lasting several weeks or even months. But the portal at the Cloud Temple connects to a place called the Idol's Garden. From there, it's a pleasant ramble through the woods until you reach Elvenesse.

Icroth and I walked hand in hand while James strolled on ahead of us. (Or occasionally behind, if he spotted something interesting and stopped to look at it.)

There's something so utterly enchanting about an untouched woodland. The citizens of Elvenesse live in complete harmony with nature, as expected of wood elves. They don't have paved roads, but rather well-beaten dirt hiking trails. The pine trees tower immense and dark above the path. A few of them are big enough that you could build houses inside of them! James happened upon a tree with a hollow trunk that was bigger than our old flat in Helena. Ruins of an ancient elven civilization lie scattered throughout the grove - quiet, mysterious, and unknowable. Birds sit among the branches and sing ancient songs full of indecipherable history and meaning. I feel so connected to my past when I take a walk in a forest like the one in Elvenesse. Not my past as a White Rose, but my deep history. My memory of Malinor - in Aegis - is long gone. But somehow my body and my blood remember it.

We got a little lost while trying to find the city. The winding, looping paths lead us to a couple of unusual locations! We stumbled on an enormous lake teeming with fish. The path leading around the lake was cut from the cliffside. Upon the living stone, the elves had painted enormous and elaborate murals in a stunning variety of hues. After meandering a bit more, we came across a moss-covered graveyard with unreadable names upon the headstones. It sat atop a peak gazing down upon the weald. In our wanderings, we also discovered a grove of bushes where plump, wild strawberries grew in abundance. We couldn't stay long, though, because a mother bear had made her home in a cave nearby. The forest teemed with all sorts of wildlife! Several times, we spotted a wolf prowling through the underbrush. Or dainty deer loping in the meadows.

Eventually, we found our way to the gates of the main city. The wood elves made their home in the vast ruins of an ancient stone fortress - which has been partially reclaimed by nature. Nature and stone interwove themselves seamlessly in the architecture. Hollowed out logs and tree roots served as bridges spanning bottomless, echoing chasms. Massive waterfalls spilled into unfathomable darkness miles below the surface of the earth. It's a good thing that we elves are a dextrous and agile race... because the architects of Elvenesse don't seem to favor handrails.

As we walked around the city, I tried to imagine how it came to look like it does. Once upon a time, it was probably an impenetrable redoubt. Home to an mysterious civilization no longer living. Then, an earthquake struck that opened up the enormous ravines cutting through the center of the city. The earthquake displaced the original populace and allowed nature to creep back in. The result is the synthesis of stone and nature we saw today.

We saw several sights in the city - from the great prismarine statues at the harbor to the palace of the Sea Prince and the Father Circle. After taking in the sights, we sat down to rest in the square next to the Tuvmas (Knoxmas? Krugsmas? Khellmas? It has different names in different parts of the world) tree. As we watched the people wander past, I noticed a familiar tow-headed figure in purple garb!

"Serenity!" I called out, springing to my feet and rushing to meet her. "I was hoping I would find you here!"

In her hands, Serenity clutched a map. "Oh, Tanith! Karin'ayla," she said.

I turned and beckoned to my husband and son. "I'd like you to meet my husband Icroth and our son James. James, Icroth, this is Serenity. She's my voidal translocation teacher."

"Serenity," James repeated, standing up from his seat and strolling over to us. Icroth got up and followed him. "Now there's a name that means something. Tranquil peace. A spiritual sort of peace, even."

Serenity smiled. "What brings you three to Elvenesse?"

"We're just looking around and taking in the sights," I explained. "My, the landscapes. So breathtaking!"

Serenity rolled up the map in her hands. "Breathtaking," she sighed, "but very confusing. I've been looking around. Trying to get my bearings. Perhaps find an available home since Ivaeri and I haven't settled yet."

"Ehehe. Icroth and I are living on the generosity of our friends right now. So we're in much the same position," I replied.

"We're moochers, is what she's saying," Icroth translated.

Serenity gave a shrug. "I do that all the time. I tend to trade my magical services for housing," she said. "Serenity Al'Abass, the summoner of infinite cookie tins! Pending Ivaeri's approval for the name, of course."

I smiled. "How is Ivaeri? Is she well?"

"She would tell you she's barely surviving," Serenity huffed fondly, rolling her eyes. "Drama queen. We're getting by, though. Looking forward to settling down and finding a permanent home. I'm not sure if we'll be staying here, though."

"Oh, why not?"

Serenity glanced around, her eyes darting right and left. She motioned me closer, lowering her voice to nearly inaudible tones. "The laws are harsh on us voidal mages," she said. "They don't like us casting spells within the city limits. In fact... the Druids are killing us on sight if they catch us. Be careful, Tanith. Don't even mention you're a mage here. Your safety is not guaranteed."

I stifled a gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth. "They're really just... murdering us on the spot? Without so much as a trial?"

Serenity nodded. "It's what I heard. I haven't seen it myself. But the Druids rule here in Elvenesse... and they despise voidal magic."

"You're welcome to visit us anytime in Haense," I offered. "They're not fond of voidal magic either, but... they tolerate us, at least, and we're protected under the law."

Serenity frowned. "I doubt it's a place where Ivaeri and I could be open about our love for each other," she said. "But it's a possibility. I'll keep it in mind. I've got to get back to Ivaeri now, but it was good to see you, Tanith. Stay safe." With that, she headed off.

The revelation - that Druids sometimes killed voidal mages on sight - left me feeling uneasy, though. I turned to James and Icroth. "We should probably get out of here," I mumbled, sad that our nice family trip had met such an unpleasant end.

Icroth noticed my sour expression. "Let's drop by the halfling village on our way out," he said, "That will cheer you up."

Oh, Icroth! He knows me so well. Even after so much time apart, he knows exactly what sort of thing will put a smile back on my face.

We left the capital of Elvenesse and made our way back through the forest. It didn't take us long to find Bramblebury, the halfling village. It's only a mile or two outside Elvenesse by foot. Oh, their little town was too darling! Everything is tiny! Their windmill is so short, I could probably jump and touch the top of it! Their burrows are practically the size of dollhouses. I've always had a fondness for the halflings - peaceful farming folk that they are. I think that, if I hadn't been born an elf, I would probably have been born a halfling.

A few of the wee folk came to greet us as we entered their village. Among them were Greta Goodbarrel, the tavernkeeper, and Isalie Gardner, the Thain. They gave us a warm and friendly welcome. Ms. Goodbarrel invited us into the tavern and offered us tankards of halfling ale on the house! We all sat together at one of their tiny tables and Thain Gardner told us about the current events of Bramblebury.

"Weh're sor'a havin' some religious debates," Thain Gardner explained.

James kicked his feet up as he sipped on his tankard. "My eighth favorite kind of debate," he chuckled.

"Debates makes it sound too noice, I reckon. Mo' loike argumen's. Weh follow two main uns, bu' weh've go' religious freedoms as well. Weh've go' Knox as our main god an' 'ten Arugula," Thain Gardner continued. "Weh've had ah figure claimin' ta be our god Knox comin' 'round fer ah whoile. An' 'ten weh've had folk sayin' 'e isn'. So, weh realleh jus' troi'in' ta figure whu' es true er no'."

"Dear me, that sounds quite worrisome," I said. "I wouldn't imagine that sort of thing might happen in such a quiet village!"

"Ah would've imagined it eitah! Ah've renounced him, so hopefullyeh 'e don' hur' anehone else... They say 'e's ah demon er ah fiend..." Thain Gardner sighed, shaking her head. "Oi'm jus' 'opin' 'e don hur' anehone. Dun wahn' 'im t' ruin our Knoxmas celebratin's. Gif' exchange's comin' up."

I glanced at my husband. "Have you thought about contacting the Paladins of Xan for help?" I posed. "They're supposed to be quite skilled at dispatching demons and fiends. If this Knox is really not what he claims to be, maybe they could take care of him..."

Thain Gardner shrugged. "Ah don' know much 'bou' aneh Paladins," she said. "Figured it's bes' iffn' th' wee folk handlin' it ourselves."

"I wouldn't bring the Paladins here," Icroth grumbled into his tea. (Still a teetotaler, that one). "Considering what they did aboard the Queen Dawn's Revenge."

I sighed and nodded along in agreement. The sad fact is that... well, most Paladins lack self-control. They're supposed to uphold goodness, justice, and mercy. But the truth is that they're a wild, unrestrained bunch who often deal with problems in the bloodiest, most wanton way possible. Icroth is different from the rest of them. If you let the Sunlit Spear loose on Bramblebury... well, they might very well burn the halfling village to the ground if it meant 'cleansing' the town of demonic taint. Destroying the lives of every halfling here. They have no control. No tact. No delicacy. No respect for the people they trample in their pursuit of 'justice.'

I hope Icroth can create his own order of paladins, apart from the Sunlit Spear. Icroth has morals and self-discipline. He knows the consequences of killing on a whim. Back when he was young and brash, his violent actions cost him dearly. And, as a result, he reformed into the man I love today.

Icroth says he's been in touch with Jack. It seems Jack didn't die during the Inferi invasion like I feared. They'll be continuing their training soon. Once Icroth is fully in control of his paladin abilities, he plans to split off from the Sunlit Spear and forge his own path.

A path that is more disciplined, more ethical, and more honorable than that of the other paladins - and maybe then we can help people like the citizens of Bramblebury.

 

Entry 125 –

1799

Spoiler

Ah! I've been working so hard on the museum, I've hardly had time to write in my diary! It makes me feel guilty when I go too long without an update, though. Let's see if I can remember all of the fun things that have happened lately...

Otto and I decided that we were sick of having an empty museum. People come into the museum all the time, only to find that it's almost entirely without exhibits. So enough is enough! We're working on putting together a few new exhibits so we have something to unveil to the public. Otto is devoting his effort into the Natural History Hall downstairs. He and the Exploration Corps have been assembling maps and pamphlets about areas of interest around Almaris. How wonderful! Meanwhile, I've been cobbling together the Notable Women of Human History Exhibit and the Farewell-to-Arcas Exhibit. Both of them still need a lot of work, but it feels good to make progress. In a few short weeks, we've managed to create something worth showing off. Our two permanent collections - the History of Haense and the World Cultures exhibits - shall have to remain closed off for now. But I'm not worried. Everything will start taking shape in due time.

Celestine's returned home from sabbatical! Every few years, Cellie travels abroad to do fieldwork and research. She's a woman who values her independence and freedom. Every now and then, she feels the need to break free of societal constraints and roam to her heart's content. Otto and I hold down the fort while she's gone. I'm delighted to have her back home, though! Our NGS meetings simply aren't the same without her standing at the podium. She seems happy and rested from her sabbatical. We've had a lot of time to chat and catch up since she returned.

The most exciting news, perhaps, is that Cellie finally achieved her long-held dream! Just the other day, King Josef I summoned her to his court. He bestowed upon her the title of Knight of the Lily! That's right - Celestine Herbert is now a Dame at last! I remember, years and years ago, how Celestine told me she hoped to one day become a knight. She's achieved so much with her life already. She founded this wonderful organization called the NGS. She opened a museum when everyone else told her it was a waste of time. She served on the Imperial Cabinet as its second (ever!) female member. She wrote treaties forging alliances between nations. She turned the NGS into a truly trans-imperial and transnational organization. Only knighthood remained out of her reach - but no longer! I'm so happy for Cellie. She richly deserves all the praise she's gotten.

I've been spending more time with Eliza Wittenbach - Celestine's daughter - lately too. Eliza just turned 18. Ah, the triplets have grown so fast! It seems like, just yesterday, I was standing in the hospital next to Cellie's bed as she gave birth. I held Dannika and Eliza in my arms mere moments after they arrived in this world. Have eighteen years really passed by so swiftly? It's mind-boggling to think about, really. Eliza has grown into a very admirable young woman. It's her ambition to become a sorceress - a master of the arcane! She's currently studying housemagery under Luisa Klaire Barclay, a lady of the Haeseni royal court. Funnily enough, I'm undergoing tutelage under the very same teacher! That's right - Eliza and I are students together! Isn't that funny?

Eliza's been having a few little troubles - the normal teenage angst. Her sister, Dannika, is already engaged. Dannika's had a boyfriend, a young member of the Baelius family, for the last few years. The son of the former Solicitor-General, in fact. The two agreed to marry once they turned twenty-one. Eliza can't help but feel a little inadequate compared to her sister. Dannika is a social butterfly adept at navigating high society. Eliza is a bit more awkward, especially around the opposite sex. (I suspected briefly that she might prefer women, but now I've revised that theory. I think she's just shy and lacking experience.) The other day, we went up to visit the village of Elysium near Norland and I think Eliza enjoyed the excursion very much. The road to Norland is lined with beautiful, deep red trees that glow softly at night. Eliza hasn't had much opportunity to travel due to her schooling and magical studies, so it was nice to venture beyond the walls of Karosgrad for a while.

On the subject of children -- James is doing well too. His playwright friend cast him in one of her plays. It's a Tuvmas production following the life of the Saint. James will be playing the role of King William I. It's his first major role as an actor. I couldn't be more proud of him! Unfortunately, I don't believe I'll be able to attend the show. Too much work at the museum that I need to complete. (Am I a bad mother for not supporting him? I feel a little guilty for taking a rain check...) Icroth plans to buy a ticket, though.

James's 100th birthday is coming up in a few months too! He's going to throw a big party. The invitation list includes - and this is a quote directly from James - "everyone I've ever met." It ought to be quite the extravaganza. Icroth and I will be attending, of course. My work schedule ought to have calmed down a bit by then. I'm looking forward to meeting James's friends. James can be a bit quiet and secretive. I don't really know what sort of company he keeps, outside of me and Icroth and the rest of the NGS. He's a grown adult, of course. He's allowed to spend time with whomever he pleases. Even so, I'm his mother now... so I'm entitled to be a bit of a busybody. I just want to make sure my son has nice, wholesome friends!

What else? Ah! Icroth and I are saving our money to buy a house where the three of us - him, me, and James - can live together. It's getting cramped at the Wittenbach residence. James is also currently homeless. He's staying in the Adventurer's Barracks at the NGS museum. If we're going to be a family, we ought to live together like one, don't you think? Icroth's been out house-shopping while I work on my tasks for the museum. He's fallen in love with a little apartment on Pine Street. It has a tiny back garden full of climbing roses. He saw it and said he thought of me immediately. Oh, that husband of mine! He can be a bit of a gadfly at times... always grumpy and sarcastic... but he really does love me in his heart!

We had an amazing chance encounter with an old friend the other day. Icroth and I were chatting in my office while I finished up some paperwork for the museum. Valeriya Vanir - our new Chief of Public Relations - came downstairs and knocked on my door. She told me that she had a new recruit upstairs. A gentleman seeking to join up with the Exploration Corps. I excused myself and climbed the stairs back up to the main floor. Who should I see there but Aicard? The quiet Farfolk man who assisted us on the Lightning Bird hunt so many years ago! Why, it's been ages since I last laid eyes on him! Almost thirty years, in fact! He's greatly aged, of course... but still much the same quiet, stoic fellow that I remembered. Of course, I welcomed him to the NGS with open arms. Icroth was delighted to see him too. It just goes to show... you never know when your paths will cross with someone from your past. It's a smaller world than we think it is. Old connections sometimes resurface in truly unexpected places.

All in all, life has been busy... but genuinely quite peaceful and happy. I feel very much at ease. My husband and son are nearby. Soon, we'll have a nice apartment where we can all live together as a family. The museum is coming along well. We ought to be able to open our doors soon! I really couldn't be more pleased with how things are going.

 

Entry 126 –

1800

Spoiler

Icroth bought us a house! We've been scrimping and saving for several years now, trying to put together the funds for a down payment. Housing is expensive in Almaris and minas are suddenly quite hard to come by. We did it, though! Icroth and I raised a sum of about 100 minas and bought a little flat on Pine Street near the gate. Our house is small but comfortable. At long last, I have a proper kitchen. We have two bedrooms - one for us and one for James. Not to mention an adorable little back garden with just enough room for some nice rose bushes.

I've only owned property a few times in my (quite long) life. Mr. Olora and I ran a little farm together, along with our produce stall. After the riots in the wake of King Andrik's death, I bought a cottage with what money I had left over. When I moved back to Oren, I lived with the Carringtons for a time... and then I began living in the flat above the museum. Otto and Celestine have been very generous this entire time, but now I've got a family and we need to be independent.

Icroth's taken up carpentry since we moved into the new house. He wants to build custom furniture for us. This is the first time he's ever owned property - and he wants to take proper care of it. I wish he'd do his sawing and hammering and painting outside, though. The sawdust and the paint fumes make me just a bit lightheaded. Even so, I'm grateful for his hard work. He's determined to turn our little apartment into a proper home.

As for me, I'm still slowly chipping away at filling the museum's exhibit halls. It's a lengthy process, especially doing it all by myself. I've recruited a few members to help me, though. Celestine has friends in House Ruthhern. One of their young relatives offered to help write material for the Farewell-to-Arcas exhibition. He'll be covering the topic of Haeseni Independence. I'm relieved. The political inner-workings of Haense are a mystery to me. I've heard the words 'Duma' and 'Harul Caezk' and 'Aulic Council' thrown around, but I certainly don't know what any of them mean. It's far better to let a Haeseni citizen write about Haense!

(Am I a Haeseni citizen? It's... hard to say. Truth be told, I still think of myself as an Orenian expatriate. Even after all they did to disappoint me.)

I've also enlisted the help of Mr. Dilvyn Deveral. He's a fairly new member of the NGS - but I must say, he's quite impressive! Mr. Deveral is a world-traveler and a true citizen of Almaris! He speaks dozens of different languages. Occasionally, when he's talking, he'll slip into Adunian without even realizing it. He knows Elvish too! Mr. Deveral's passions are exploration and topography. I've commissioned him to write descriptions of the Arcan landscape so that people of the future can read and know what sort of continent we left behind. (Another fun fact - Mr. Deveral lives in the flat above us! He's rarely home since he wanders around so often, but it's nice to have neighbors you know personally.)

There's a third person helping me out with the Farewell exhibit. Her name is Julia Pruvia-Provins. A rather mysterious young lady, if you ask me. Miss Julia is the strange sort of young woman who seems to know a lot more than she lets on. She's the cousin of Henriette Marna de Rafal - a former member who disappeared under somewhat odd circumstances a few years ago. Henriette helped me with our Notable Women exhibition (which is coming together nicely). Julia dropped by unexpectedly to see the exhibit that her cousin worked on. She asked me if she might join and participate in conducting research. Well, who am I to say no?

In other news, Eliza asked me if I might teach her Voidal Translocation someday. My powers of Translocation have grown quite a bit since I began my lessons years ago. I still have a few spells and techniques left to master, but I think I might be nearing the point where I can teach.

Speaking of teaching magic... Icroth's paladin powers have reached their full maturity at last. He's resolved to begin his own Order. We spoke about it earlier while he was taking a break from work. "I'm considering starting clandestine operations against Occultists such as the Azdrazi," he said, wiping the sawdust and sweat off his forehead with a damp cloth. "Information gathering. Linguistics. Cultural studies. Essentially - combining the lessons I've learned from the NGS and the lessons I've learned from the Paladins."

I frowned from where I was seated at the kitchen table. "So is this something Jack wants you to do? Or... is it something you decided to do on your own?"

"It's my idea," he confirmed, dropping the washcloth in a nearby bucket. "But I'm nearly certain Jack will approve."

"Eh, well..." I found myself picking at my fingernails. That bad habit of mine. "Are you sure you're not getting in over your head?"

Icroth looked up at me, his brow furrowed. He had his shirt off. The hard work made him sweaty. A fine layer of sawdust coated his muscles and his beard. "Over my head?" he repeated back to me. "Tanith, I'm a master paladin."

"You're just one person, though," I replied. "The Azdrazi are very dangerous, aren't they? If they catch wind of you, Icroth, you know what they'll do."

"I'm devising strategies to render my movements undetectable," he said. "This is all deep-cover, Tanith. I've done this before. I know how to handle myself."

"I trust you," I reassured him. "Just... be safe. And keep in mind the promises we made to each other. I want you beside me for a long time."

At that, he softened and smiled at me. "But of course, love." He rose from where he sat on a stool near the fire and kissed my forehead. In an instant, my worries melted away.

Ah, how is it that I keep falling in with these sorts of men? Mr. Toov had his Imperial Inquisition. Now Icroth's starting up some undercover work as well... I really do have a type, don't I? Gruff warriors with a penchant for covert investigation...

I don't like the Azdrazi either. Unlike most people, I'm old enough to remember the terror of Setherien. Azdromoth's presence in Haelun'or makes me uneasy... and I get nervous whenever I see an elf with a pair of horns sticking out of his head.

I've wanted to investigate the Azdrazi a bit more too. Mr. Toov recruited me to the Imperial Inquisition because I'm good at getting people talking. Somehow, folks like to share their secrets with me. Perhaps I just have a trustworthy face. I thought maybe I could visit Haelun'or and find out precisely what the Azdrazi are doing atop that mountain.

The NGS has friends in Haelun'or. Mrs. Sullas - the head librarian - for example. I've thought about reaching out to her. I'm interested in learning Elvish and getting deeper in touch with my cultural heritage. Maybe while I'm there, I could ask her a few questions too.

Oh! Icroth said James performed beautifully in his play. I wish I wasn't so busy. I would have loved to attend. Icroth mentioned it was well-written, but very long. He had a sore neck and back from sitting in those wooden theater seats for three straight hours. (Luckily, I'm good at massage!)

 

Entry 127 –

1801

Spoiler

Oh, I just knew things had been going too smoothly. Whenever life is going well, whenever things are too quiet and easy, I start getting nervous. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. Lately, I've been doing nothing but working on the museum - putting exhibits together and preparing for our partial soft-opening. Everything had been going unusually well. My research had been very successful so far... and I've learned so many things about history that I never knew before. Icroth, James, and I were settling nicely into our house...

Now it feels as though everything's falling apart at the seams!

Perhaps I'm overreacting... Even so, the whole situation is so upsetting! I'll start from the beginning.

Zodd was acting strange this morning. He recently completed his knight trials and ascended to the rank of Sir. Something changed when he got promoted. I don't know why, but his temper's been worse than usual... and he's been getting upset about the strangest things. For example, this morning, I'd settled down in my office for some paperwork when, all of a sudden, Zodd appeared out of nowhere! He jumped out from behind the arched doorway that leads into my little den.

"TANITH!" he bellowed, nearly scaring me half to death.

"AUGH!" I leaped out of my seat, knocking all the papers off my desk. "Zodd!" I gasped, clasping a hand over my heart as I gathered up my work. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days! I'm really getting too old for this..."

Zodd laughed. "Sorry, Miss Tanith," he said with a shrug. "I'm bored t' tears an' thought I'd live up yer workday a tad, tha's all."

I let out a low breath as I settled back down into my chair. "Dear me... Consider it livened," I said. "How can I help you, my friend?"

"Nothin' t' do," he grunted, leaning against my desk. "Thought I'd come chat wif ye."

"Oh, well, I have a job for you!" I chimed. "I'm looking for artifacts that can go in our exhibits. Perhaps you could go treasure hunting for me and see if you can find anything good!"

Zodd wrinkled his nose. "Didn't I give ye somethin' fer th' museum jus' th' other day?" he asked.

"Ehehe, yes. It's downstairs. Thank you again."

His knight trial involved hunting and killing Boggens - which are bizarre undead creatures native to Haense. After successfully slaying the beast, he brought me its head for display in our Natural History Hall. (A bit gruesome, perhaps, but nature red in tooth and claw!) "I was just hoping you could ask around and see if anyone has anything they'd like to donate? But if you don't want to, that's fine."

"I doubt folks would part with their treasures easily," Zodd snorted. "If at all."

"There's never any harm in asking! The worst people can do is say 'no.'" I replied.

Zodd scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oho, if only."

"Just because someone might say 'no' doesn't mean you shouldn't ask anyway," I said. "You don't know what they'll say until they say it."

Zodd folded his arms across his broad chest. "Tha' may be the case, but people are very much capable of doin' much worse than just sayin' 'no.' I know that 'un from experience."

My forehead wrinkled as I tried to make sense of what he meant. "Why, it's just a polite request," I replied. "Nobody's going to attack you over something like that. We're not trying to rob anyone of their treasures... just kindly asking if they would like to donate!"

All of a sudden, his face began to redden with anger. "Enough o' this! I don't want t' talk about it, Tanith!" he barked, startling me. "I'm not talkin' t' people for ye. If ye want donations, you'll have t' ask fer them yer damn self!"

His reaction left me stunned! "Goodness!" I exclaimed. "It was just a suggestion, of course... You're under no obligation! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"Righ'. Sure ye didn't," he sniffed and took a step back. "I need t' hit somethin' an' I don't want it to be ye. I'll be in my forge if ye need me." With that, he turned and stormed off out of my office.

I knew Zodd had a bad temper, but he'd never gotten angry with me before. For a while, I sat there at my desk, unable to do any work because of how bad and guilty I felt. What had I done? What had I said? All I did was ask him to go out and talk to people, see if anyone wanted to donate something to the museum. Yet somehow that simple request set him off so badly, he needed to go hit something to relieve his stress!

Thirty minutes or so later, Celestine popped her head into my office. "Tanith!" she greeted me delightedly. "I just took a look upstairs at the Farewell to Arcas exhibit! It's coming along beautifully!" She must have noticed my expression, though, because she also began to frown. "Tanith, what's wrong, dearie?"

"I think I did something wrong," I said. "I don't really know what happened, but... Zodd got angry with me all of a sudden."

Cellie moved to the armchair across from my desk. She crossed her legs, resting her knitted fingers upon her knee. "What happened?"

"He acted so oddly!" I said. "He came into my office and said he was bored, so... I asked him if he'd like to help me find items for the exhibit. I suggested he could ask around and see if anyone had anything they'd like to donate. Without any warning, he began yelling at me and stormed out... I'm so confused! I don't know what I did wrong, Cellie!"

"I don't think you did anything wrong, Tanith," Celestine said. "It's likely the Orcish blood in him. He's a quarter orc, you know. On his grandmother's side, I believe. Though you wouldn't know it just by looking at him!"

"Perhaps that's so," I sighed.

"Either way, I'm certain he'll cool off, Tanith," Celestine reassured me. "He always does. But anyway, I wanted to extend my compliments about the Farewell to Arcas exhibit! It's coming along marvelously! You've truly outdone yourself, old friend!"

I blushed. "Oh, it was nothing, Cellie! I'm just doing my job."

"I'd like to have our soft-opening in a few months' time," Cellie said. "To coincide with our 40th anniversary as an organization!"

"Really!" I beamed. "We've been around for 40 years already? The time's simply flown!"

"An occasion such as this one deserves a drink, don't you think, Tanith?" Celestine winked at me. "We've got a fully stocked bar upstairs. NGS members only!"

Celestine and I went upstairs to the members-only lounge on the third floor. She poured us some wine (I splurged for an evening - forgive me, Icroth! I was stressed!) and we got to talking for a little while - nothing serious, just the usual chatter. I finally got a chance to tell her about my new ears. We made plans to visit Fiil up in Norland and get them attached. I told Celestine about my housemagery lessons with Eliza. Lady Barclay has been teaching us both at the same time. Eliza is a natural mage. She picked up on the spells immediately. As for me, well... I've been practicing water evocation so long that it's practically all I can do! The spells were relatively easy and simple... but for some reason, I couldn't get the hang of them! When Lady Barclay taught me a spell for summoning a fragrant breeze, I ended up summoning a splash of nicely-scented water. Oh well! Practice makes perfect!

Eventually, Kallian and Otto joined us at the bar. We talked about the Exploration Corps' upcoming expeditions. Celestine mentioned an interesting rumor she heard - something about strange, blue-skinned, furred primates abducting travelers in the north. The whole time we were chatting, I heard Zodd upstairs on the fourth floor. Stomping around and clattering with the tools in his workshop. Then, all at once, the sounds stopped.

The gears and cables on the nearby lift whirred. Moments later, the lift door slid open, and out walked Zodd. "I'm leavin' th' NGS," he declared as soon as he stepped off.

The four of us - Kallian, Celestine, Otto, and me - stared at him in stunned silence. "Huh?" Celestine said at last, breaking the silence. "Whatever for?"

"I'll be busy with my knight duties," he groused. "Don't have th' time to be yer errand boy anymore. Big fuckin' disappointment, I'm sure. I am sick of ye insultin' me all tha' fuckin' time - then demanding I put my fuckin' life on th' line t' protect all o' ye. Treatin' me like I'm ye fuckin' meat shield an' then laughin' at me behind my back."

"What?" Celestine balked. "Zodd, we've never done that!"

"Especially him," Zodd sneered, pointing at Kallian. "All he ever fuckin' does is talk down t' me. I'm God-damned Knight of Haense and I deserve t' be treated with respect!"

"That's absurd!" Celestine said. "Kallian is your best friend!"

"Yeah, well, not anymore," Zodd replied. "I'm tired o' bein' insulted."

"Are you serious?" Kallian chuckled. "The tough knight can't handle a few joke comments? Is that all it takes to scare you off?"

Zodd's face went scarlet with rage - and all of a sudden, I felt unsafe. "It doesn't scare me, you fuckin' twig! It makes me mad! Ye have no idea how lucky ye are I've not broken yer fuckin' back over my knee!"

"It's not my fault you can't man up and take a joke," Kallian fired back.

Zodd's face became so crimson, I thought for certain he was about to pop a blood vessel. "Man up?!" He growled, his voice as deep and loud as a roll of thunder. "MAN UP? WHO THE **** DO YE THINK YE ARE, THA' YE CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THA', YE LI'L SHIT?"

At that point, I was practically sprinting for the lift. I managed to slip past Zodd and hit the lever to take me downstairs. As the lift door slide shut, I heard the two of them bellowing insults at each other. As for me, I beat a hasty retreat down to the Archives where I could avoid listening to the yelling. Even down in the basement, I could hear Zodd raging.

After a while, the yelling faded... and I judged that it was safe to return upstairs. I found Cellie and Otto sitting at the bar alone. "What happened?" I asked them.

"Chirr heard the yelling from her office and came to investigate," Celestine explained. "She and Zodd are having a talk."

"And Kallian?" I asked.

"He went off to cool down. I don't blame him," Celestine replied. "I think we ought to follow his example."

I couldn't have agreed more. At Celestine's suggestion, I decided to clock out for the day and head home. I'm writing this entry from the dinner table at our flat.

This is the first time I've ever seen such a conflict within the NGS! It's so distressing! What on earth is going on with Zodd and Kallian?

Celestine's right. Before today, the two of them seemed like best friends. Now, all of a sudden, they can't stand each other!

My theory is that my interaction with Zodd earlier in my office was somehow related to his squabble with Kallian. For some reason, the two of them had a falling out. Kallian has a dry, sarcastic, quippy sense of humor. That's just who he is, naturally. I imagine he's made some jokes at Zodd's expense, which hurt Zodd's manly pride. Zodd's been feeling disrespected because of Kallian. When I asked Zodd to go out and solicit donations, he took it personally because his pride was already hurt. He interpreted it as me looking down on him and treating him as an errand boy.

I never meant to belittle Zodd or wound his pride. Oh, I hope Chirr convinced him not to quit the NGS! At the very least, I owe him an apology. He's been so kind to me over the years. He gave me my beautiful wand. He found me a pair of replacement ears. When we went on our expedition to the Nether, he saved me from falling to my death in a pool of lava. If he's been feeling belittled and unappreciated, well... I should do something to show him my appreciation.

But what? That's the question. I don't know if he plans to stay with the NGS or if he plans to quit. I suppose I'll find out one way or the other soon.

We'll see...

Today wasn't all bad news, though. Mr. Deveral finished his pamphlet describing the different landscapes of Arcas. That means the Farewell-to-Arcas exhibit is one step closer to completion. Mr. Deveral did a fantastic job. He's a masterful writer. I would truly like to become better friends with him, especially since he's our upstairs neighbor.

The NGS has been my safe haven for the last 30 years. I joined in the year 1772 and I've been a loyal member ever since. It's more than a guild. It's a family. Then again, I suppose all families fight once in a while. It's my hope that Kallian and Zodd can work out their differences and learn to understand each other better. I'd hate to lose one of our valued members over a misunderstanding.

 

Entry 128 –

1802

Spoiler

Chirr convinced Zodd not to quit the NGS, which is good news for everyone. He's a critical component of our exploration team and we'd certainly be the lesser without him. I spoke with Chirr the other day and mentioned I'd like to do something nice for Zodd, to make him feel appreciated. She agreed it was a lovely idea and we made plans to discuss it in more detail later. Zodd loves to collect rare and strange weapons. I'm thinking perhaps I'll keep an eye on the auction house and see if I can't find something special for him.

In other NGS news, I've finally, finally, finally finished work on the Notable Women exhibit! Our artifacts and pamphlets are proudly on display - and ready for the opening in a few weeks! Ah, the work has been intense, but I couldn't be more proud. Celestine told me that the Haense Women's Club (including Queen Isabel!) will be making a special trip to come see it. I do hope that it impresses!

The Farewell-To-Arcas exhibit is still under construction, but it's in decent shape. As of this writing, I've finished putting our Pertinaxi ceremonial armor on display - as well as a mannequin designed to resemble an Inferi. I think we'll be ready for the soft opening just in time.

Researching the exhibits has broadened my understanding of Orenian and Haeseni history a great deal. Before I started researching for the NGS, I knew very little in regards to what happened to Oren after I left it. Big events like the War of Two Emperors and the Ruberni War were an utter mystery to me. I couldn't have told you anything about them! Who fought who, what battle happened where, who won. But after completing this research for the exhibit, I think I've got a fair grasp on Arcan history.

Reading up on the Nenzing Proclamation and the War of Two Emperors made me feel... strange, though. The Josephites - supporters of Emperor Joseph I of Marna - talked often on the subject of equality even back in those days. I have to wonder, what would Joseph I think of his party now? Would he be ashamed, knowing they've transformed from crusaders for equality into a gaggle of thugs? Maybe they were a gaggle of thugs back in Adria too. Who can say?

It's been well over a decade since my assault at the hands of Ostromir Carrion. 1804 will mark the 15th anniversary of that awful night. Still no hope for justice. And no one really cares anymore. I'm probably the only person in Almaris who still thinks about it. He really did get away scott-free. Never saw the inside of a jail cell, not even for a day. Oren has changed its exterior with their velvet tricorns, powdered wigs, and empty gestures toward democracy and equality. But underneath, they're still the same as they were 300 years ago. Still allowing the people on top to flagrantly hurt and murder the people on the bottom.

I'm trying to let go of my bitter feelings and live my life, but the memories and negative notions arise no matter what I do. Especially so now that the 15th anniversary of the incident is coming up. The government of Oren is content to let Ostromir run free. So, my only remaining option is keep praying to God for divine punishment.

Do wicked people receive their just rewards in Heaven? Considering how many awful, heinously cruel men ascended to sainthood... I doubt it. And people wonder why I have my doubts about Canonism!

But moving on --

We received some strange news from Haelun'or recently. Miss Alyssa Seregon (the daughter of Dele Seregon) joined the NGS a few days ago. She arrived in Karosgrad from the Silver City, intending to immigrate. According to the young Miss Seregon, political unrest has erupted in the Silver City and she did not want to stay there any longer. She tried to explain the situation to me, but I had a hard time following her description of events. I'm still not very good with elven words and names. From what I gathered, one of their important governmental figures - an individual who held a position similar to that of both a pontiff and a king - suddenly abdicated and disappeared with no apparent successor. Several different factions have begun vying for authority in the power vacuum.

It's a bit disappointing to hear I'd been considering a visit to Haelun'or, to learn more about high elven culture and to see what I could uncover regarding the Azdrazi. With this news, I'm rethinking my plans. Due to my dark skin, I stick out like a sore thumb in Haelun'or. Miss Seregon mentioned an authoritarian faction is trying to seize power. They're seeking to 'purify' Haelun'or, which they believe has become too lenient and corrupt in recent years. So that means the city likely wouldn't be safe for a dark elf such as me. My visit to the Haelun'or Knox-O-Ween carnival was probably the last time I'll get to set foot in the Silver City - at least for now.

Miss Seregon asked if she might become my student in water evocation too. She'd heard through the grapevine that I was an expert mage with many years' experience. I accepted her, of course. Now that Celestine is a master water evocationist in her own right, I feel ready to take on a new student. We've been discussing times for potential lessons. I'm surprised a high elf is willing to learn from a Mali'ker. But then again, Miss Seregon doesn't seem like your typical high elf obsessed with purity.

Speaking of magic -- Icroth is planning to build a chancery in our basement. Chanceries are holy shrines blessed by Xan, stashed away in secret places throughout Almaris. I once had the pleasure of seeing one with my own eyes, back in Arcas. Icroth took me to a hidden chancery located in the lands of the Druid many years ago. Chanceries are quite a beautiful sight to behold. They're springs full of magical, softly glowing water. The waters have unusual powers. For example, you can lift curses and banish demonic taint by bathing in the blessed water. Strange to think that one of those things is going to be in our basement!

Icroth's spent the last few days away from home, discussing preparations with the other paladins. The chancery requires a special ritual, involving multiple paladins, to bless and empower it. I'm not sure if the city government will approve of us building a pagan shrine in Karosgrad, but... what they don't know won't hurt them, will it? I'm afraid to ask for permission in case we get denied. My, it's going to be awkward hosting all of those paladins in our tiny flat... Will there be enough space?

I'm worried about something, though, and I feel ashamed to admit it. It makes me sound as though I don't trust my husband. Secretly, I fear that Icroth is trying to recruit James into his fledgling Paladin order. I love and trust Icroth completely, of course. But... the rest of Paladins... not so much! I don't want my son hanging around with that group. The Paladins - all of them except Icroth - flaunt their power in vulgar, bloodthirsty ways. You can't count on them to carefully and diplomatically handle a threat. They'll use Xan's magic to burn everything to the ground, annihilating the innocent alongside the guilty. Even Jack. When Jack warned me that he was dangerous all those years ago... I should have believed him. Icroth wants to isolate himself from the other paladins, but that's not possible. Not fully, at least. He'll have to interact with them from time to time in order to fulfill Xan's will. There's no way around it.

Icroth will take care of our son, I know. I trust him, I do! But... it's the nature of us mothers to worry and fret! I don't want my son to fall in with a bad crowd! Maybe I am too fussy over James. But I can't help it. I've wanted to be a mother for 500 long years. Now I finally have a son. I want to take care of him as much as possible - without smothering him to pieces, of course! Miss Seregon made fun of me for fidgeting over James the other day. "In Haelun'or, James would be considered an adult, you know," she teased me.

It's a delicate balance.

James never struck me as the paladin type, though. He isn't the sort to make lifelong commitments. Our boy is a free spirit, beholden to no one. Icroth and I are his home, of course, but he wanders far afield when he's not with us. I can't imagine him making an eternal pledge to an aengul of inscrutable and indeterminate morals. James primarily does what he wants. Someone like Xan would only cramp his style.

We'll see, though.

There are times when I wish Icroth hadn't made the decision to join the Paladins. I have my quibbles with Jack and his group, as I've stated many times before. I won't ever forget them slaughtering an innocent refugee right in front of me, on the slight suspicion that he might be a trap. Icroth is trying a different path, following Xan's orders in his own way... and I'm hoping against hope that he can reform the other paladins someday as well.

What I don't understand is why Xan, a being of innate goodness and justice, would allow his followers to kill so wantonly and indiscriminately. Maybe Xan isn't as moral as he seems either. Icroth's told me a little bit about the history of Xan and his paladins. At times, their actions can become very... suspect. The old adage holds true. If someone insists over and over that they are nice and good and moral, well... the truth is probably that they're not very moral at all.

 

Entry 129 –

1802

Spoiler

It's rare that you have an utterly perfect day. I can remember a few of them over my five-hundred-and-thirty year lifespan. Lately, I've been privileged enough to enjoy several. The day I married Icroth, for example. The day that James agreed to be our son. Now I get to add one more day to that list - the day our museum in Karosgrad opened!

For the last several months, I have been running myself ragged trying to get ready for our partial, 'soft' opening. We haven't been able to open the museum fully due to our missing artifacts. Some of them were lost in transit during the voyage from Arcas to Almaris. Others were expatriated into the Void and floating around in the form of pure mana. Little by little, I've been straining to repatriate them... but it's a long, slow, painful process that's not always successful. Even so, I've hated having an empty museum. The Museum at Karosgrad felt like a hollow shell of what it was supposed to be. Eventually, Otto and I decided we had to fill it with something! So the two of us began working hard on the Natural History Hall, the Farewell-to-Arcas exhibit, and the Notable Women of Human History exhibit. Celestine wanted us to hold a partial opening event for the 40th anniversary of the NGS. It was a fight to get everything finished, but... we did it!

Today was the big day - the 40th Anniversary Event and our partial opening of the Museum!

And it was a smashing success!

I spent the morning fussing and fretting as is my wont. I swear to God, I walked through the exhibits at least ten times - making sure that everything was in its proper place. Wiping down the windows. Sweeping the cobwebs out of the corners. I couldn't bear for there to be a single speck of dust anywhere in the museum! Eventually, Celestine had to lock the feather duster and the mop away in Chirr's office - just so I'd stop obsessively cleaning every single surface. I was simply so nervous... and I direly wanted everything to go well!

I kept peering out the upstairs windows and watching people gather in the street below. At first, there were only a handful of idlers lingering about. But as it drew closer and closer to time, a huge mass of museum patrons had begun to form. I had my face pressed against the window, watching in awe as ten... twenty... sixty people arrived and stood outside the museum! When the clock struck noon, Celestine grinned and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you ready, Tanith?" she asked.

"Cellie, that crowd out there," I murmured. Goosebumps prickled on my skin. "That's more people than I've ever seen in one place! And I've been to half a dozen Imperial coronations! Are they all coming to see our museum?"

Celestine laughed - that confident, brazen laugh of hers. "No need to be intimidated, dearie!" she reassured me. "Thanks to you and Otto, we've got some wonderful exhibits to show them." She reached into her coat and grabbed a sheaf of papers, containing the speech she'd prepared. "You'll stand beside me at the podium, won't you? You deserve recognition today as well!"

"You won't make me speak in front of that huge gathering, will you?" I gasped, looking at her in wide-eyed terror.

"Only if you want to," Celestine replied, linking her arm with mine. Together, we strode downstairs. Celestine opened the door onto our front promenade, where she, Otto, and Valeriya Vanir had set up a podium. As we exited the museum, Valeriya stretched a length of red ribbon across the door and tied it off with a ribbon. Celestine lifted a hand and waved to the crowd before she stepped up to the podium. Setting down her papers, she cleared her throat and began to speak...

"Greetings everyone!" she chimed, hands gripping the side of the lectern. "Some may already know me, others perhaps not, but my name is Celestine Herbert, founder and President of the Northern Geographical Society. To my right is Valeriya Vanir, our Personal Relations director," she said, gesturing to Valeriya, "and to my left my husband, Otto Wittenbach, our Vice President. Next to Otto, our Chief of Research, Tanith Vursur."

I blushed and smiled shyly at the spectators as she mentioned my name. I could hardly believe how many eyes were staring at us.

Celestine continued, just as graceful as you please. Not one bit bothered by the crowd. "Before we open our flagship museum to allow all to explore what lies within, I would just like to point out that this is our 40th anniversary, and that we are ever so proud to have been a pillar of the Haeseni community for these many years. Although we are an international organization with a membership spanning Almaris, Haense has been very good to us over the decades. Without Haense, we could have never gotten our start, nor could we be as prosperous as we are today. And so, it is to the people of Haense that I wish to offer my sincerest thanks for your loving support for so long. With that being said!" Celestine clapped her hands together. "Pushing the frontier is always difficult... As is treading into the unknown. But by dispelling the fogs of ignorance through sharing knowledge with all who seek it, we can help to make the world a better place. That is what our organization is dedicated to, and that is what we shall continue to do as we open our doors to the general public today."

Oh, Cellie! She really is the most inspiring speaker! With that, she invited the Lord Palatine, Sir Konstantin - our special guest speaker for the opening - up to the lectern. She stepped back, flashed a smile in my direction, and gave a nod. The four of us - Celestine, Otto, Valeriya, and I - then gave our attention to the dark-haired gentleman making his way toward the podium.

Sir Konstantin cleared his throat. "There was once a time where many dismissed scholars," he began, his hands resting upon either side of the podium. "Even today, many don't understand their importance. What good is history to the farmer when harvest time nears? What use are studies to the soldier when there's a war to be fought?" He posed the question to the gathering, who listened in rapturous silence as his powerful voice washed over them. "It is true that we need the farmer to eat and the soldier for peace, these things ... They are maintenance. They are limbo. The work of the scholar, the explorer, the researcher, is much more than that, though. It is change."

Those words struck a chord with me. I gazed at the back of Sir Konstantin's head, taking in the effect of his speech. From where I stood, I wasn't able to see his face. But somehow... in my mind's eye, I could picture the sort of expression he was making.

He continued -- "While the farmer and soldier keep the world as is, the scholar strives to change it for the better. It is the scholar who divines through the mistakes of the past to find a path of peace through the future."

At those words, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. My throat closed tight and I fought to stifle a sob. Sir Konstantin's words pierced my chest like an arrow. It was all I could do to keep from crying right there, in front of all those onlookers. I clasped my hands tight and bit my lip.

It's impossible to describe how deeply his words moved me at that moment. In just a few syllables, he articulated the very reason I became a scholar with the NGS. When I first came back to Oren, I wanted to escape the past. I didn't want my history to define me. The more you run from the past, though, the more it catches up to you. The White Rose is still something I think about often. Not a day goes by that I don't look back and remember my time spent among the Order. As much as I try to lock the past out, it finds a way back in.

Eventually, though, I realized. I didn't have to let my past define me, but I couldn't erase it either. Instead, I could put it to good use. I could use the bloody, dark, painful past... to make a brighter and a more beautiful future. People needed to know the facts, the truth. Because - as trite as it is to say this - those who don't learn from history truly are doomed to repeat it!

Sir Konstantin phrased it perfectly. By sorting through the mistakes of the past... I was indeed creating a path of peace into the future!

The Lord Palatine continued, his booming voice carrying out over the snow-softened streets. "It is the scholar who challenges and defies the enigmas and mysteries of our world, be they great or tragic, to understand and master it," he declared to the masses before him. "And it is the scholar who tells a story far greater than any bard or poet, for it is THEY who tell the story of this world and those in it, those who define it, and it is THEY who grant immortality in the annals of history. The ages where this world was defined by the sword alone have long since passed, for our joined futures will never again be marked by blood, hatred, and ignorance. The NGS represents the very best of this new future - this future of understanding, of betterment."

The world Sir Konstantin described... it's a place we're creating right now! It's something that I - Tanith Vursur - can be a part of!

He turned and smiled at the four of us over his shoulder. "And so, on this momentous occasion, we commemorate and thank the NGS," he said - not to the crowd, but directly to us. "We thank you for the lessons that will guide us, and our children, and our children's children, and their children."

He reached into the lining of his coat and pulled out a flask of Carrion Black. With a twist of his wrist, he unscrewed the cap. Turning back to the crowd, he hoisted the flask into the air. "A toast to the NGS!"

An enormous roar of applause washed over the street. At that moment, a potent cocktail of emotions coursed through my veins. Pride. Exhilaration. Gratitude that I lived in this time and worked for this organization. Joy. Celestine stepped forward with a pair of large scissors in hand and offered them to the Lord Palatine. "Would you do the honors, sir?" she asked.

Sir Konstantin flashed a toothy grin. "Don't mind if I do!" He took the scissors in hand and, with a decisive cut, snipped through the ribbon Valeriya had put across the door.

With that, the NGS flagship museum was once again open for business! A flood of patrons entered the museum at once. I've never seen so many bodies inside the museum! Part of me worried that they might knock over the exhibits, but another part of me was just thrilled to see the place so full! The upstairs exhibit halls were packed to the brim! The whole event had a festival sort of atmosphere, full of chatter and joy and eager smiles. Celestine was in her element, working the room and greeting the guests. Valeriya held a trivia contest where contestants had to search for information among the exhibits. Downstairs, Celestine held a raffle to win a prize!

It was wonderful to see Cellie so cheerful. A few days ago, we had Eliza over for dinner and she mentioned that her mother hadn't been feeling well. The empty museum had left Celestine so down and gloomy. In addition to the fact that she's been getting older. (Cellie's nearly 60 now, if I had to hazard a guess... humans age so fast.) But now, it seemed she'd regained some of her spirit and energy! Ah, how heartwarming - to see Cellie acting like her old self again.

As for me, I'll admit I was feeling a tad bit overwhelmed. I stood to the side with Icroth (he was there too, of course, to support me) and we simply held hands while we watched the throng milling about.

"Did you like the speech?" I asked him quietly.

"I did," he replied, giving my hand a squeeze.

Icroth flashed a teasing smile in my direction. "I noticed you getting a bit teary-eyed over it."

I huffed, my cheeks turning dark. "I just feel lucky," I said.

"Lucky?"

"To be here," I said softly. "To be alive in this time and this place. The fact that we can use our pasts... the awful things that happened all those years ago... to make a better future for everyone. It makes me feel like..."

"Like what?" Icroth pressed.

"Like that time wasn't a waste," I replied. "The time I spent with the White Rose. It's something I can use for good."

"Aye," Icroth grunted. "And you've done such good, Tanith. Everyone's here enjoying what you worked hard to create."

I smiled, looking around the room with a warm glow of pride in my chest. I don't think I could have felt any happier at that moment, standing side by side with the love of my life. I gazed at the faces of the smiling, excited patrons and was overcome by a pure, wholesome sense of sense of accomplishment.

Much of my history has been characterized by shame. Shame over what I did when I worked for the White Rose. The shame of having looked the other way when elves just like me were slaughtered en masse. The shame of having smilingly condemned them when I was in the unique position to have spoken out against the killings... and maybe even stopped them.

It feels good to be... unequivocally proud. To know I contributed something truly positive and constructive to the world. Little by little, I can balance out the evils I committed with the White Rose. I'll build a brighter and better future where knowledge is king and ignorance is banished to the darkness where it belongs.

 

Entry 130 –

1803

Spoiler

At long last, we've finished repatriating the last of the museum exhibits from the Void. I spent hours today with Celestine in our secret vault, stowed away in the secret depths of the museum. She perched upon a chest with list in hand, describing artifacts to me one by one so that I could envision them in my mind's eye. I strained as I tried to conjure up each one in my head and then open a portal to yank them back into the material plane. The difficulty left me breathless and awash in sweat, but we finally achieved it at last. All of the artifacts and books I expatriated into the Void are now back in our realm, complete and unharmed.

"Oh, Tanith!" Celestine exclaimed once we'd finished the work. She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and proffered it to me. "It really is a joyful day. What a relief to finally have our collection complete again!"

I took the handkerchief and mopped my sodden face. "Ehehe." A breathless laugh slipped between my lips. "I'm glad you had faith in me, Cellie... I was quite worried I wouldn't be able to get everything back."

"An expert mage like you? Don't be silly," Cellie waved me off. "How many magicks do you practice now? Evocation, translocation, alchemy, housemagery..."

At that moment, I remembered something!

"Wah!" I exclaimed, suddenly shooting to my feet. I'd been seated crosslegged on the floor while channeling my mana. My rosy-tinted aura disappeared in a poof, like how sugar candy might evaporate in water.

My movements startled Celestine, who nearly toppled off her seat upon the chest. "What is it?!" my friend gasped. "Is something wrong?"

"I have a housemagery lesson with Lady Barclay in five minutes!" I sprinted for the iron door of the vault and started fruitlessly jerking on the handles. "I've got to hurry!"

"Are you sure you're up for it, Tanith?" Celestine tilted her head owlishly. She fished the key from her pocket and unlocked the vault door. "I fear you've used up all your mana repatriating our exhibits!"

"No time, Cellie!" I said, disappearing through the door.

"Don't strain yourself!" she called after me.

Celestine is thoughtful, as usual.

I sprinted down to the Archives, where Lady Luisa Klaire Barclay and Eliza waited for me. The moment I reached the bottom of the stairs, I doubled over and gasped, sweat pouring off my forehead. "Auntie, are you all right?" Eliza asked me, eyebrows lifting in inquiry. She and Lady Barclay sat primly in the small amphitheater where we often give lectures. Eliza in a fanciful silk gown with a polka-dot patterned skirt. Upon her lap sat a strange construct of a creature - a fox whittled from wood and joined together with ball-and-socket joints.

"Hard at work for the museum!" I gasped, straightening up and making my way over to the conversation pit. My eyes lingered on the strange fox as Eliza stroked its wooden head. "I'm so sorry to have kept you ladies waiting."

"You've been working yourself too hard, auntie," Eliza scolded me gently before handing the fox off to Lady Luisa. "Don't you think you deserve a break? You ought to take a vacation one of these days..."

"Ehehe, maybe," I said, seating myself next to Lady Barclay. Sidelong, I peered at the wooden animal upon her lap. It padded in circles as it settled down, wrapping itself up like a sleeping cat. What was that thing? "Icroth and I are long overdue for our honeymoon to Sutica, I think..."

Eliza's eyes brightened at the mention of Sutica. "Auntie! That reminds me," she chimed. She clasped her hands delightedly in front of her, face glowing with pleasure. "I finally found someone who is willing to teach me the art of transfiguration! The magic I've wanted to learn since I was a child! My teacher is a high elf who lives down in Sutica... Auntie, he's even older than you!"

I couldn't help but loft a brow at that. "Eh? Is he?"

"He's five or six centuries, so he told me!" Eliza replied. "His name is Sarrion. He owns an enchantment shop! Have you ever met him?"

I shook my head. "I'm afraid it doesn't ring a bell. But I certainly would like to meet him." I smiled, pushing the sweaty hair away from my face. "Is he still accepting students? Perhaps I'll take up transfiguration too!"

"Housemagery now, ladies," Lady Barclay teased us gently, stroking the head of her false-fox. "Transfiguration later."

"Erm..." I folded my hands in my lap, unsure of what to say. "What IS that?"

Lady Barclay smiled and scratched her wooden fox behind the ears. "His name ist Faust. He ist an example of the spell Ich vill be teaching you girls today," she explained. "He ist a doll, given life by magic."

I marveled at the fox, who flicked his ears and twitched his tail just like a real creature. "That's incredible!"

"Ich made them for every member of my family. Mein Ehemann has a living doll as vell, named Dummy Minasworth." She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, stifling a ladylike giggle. "My children love them too."

"Amazing," I whispered. "Can I pet him?"

"Of course!" Lady Luisa replied. "They have emotions. They can feel happy and sad. Pet him all you like. He loves it."

I needed no further prompting. Immediately, I reached over and began stroking the doll. He didn't have soft fur like a real fox, yet he responded to my touch as though he did - leaning into my scratches and arching his back so I could reach the perfect spot. "He's just like a real fox!" I exclaimed, smiling.

"Ist es nicht süß? My beloved companion." She picked Faust up, cupping him underneath his front legs, and transferred him over to my lap. The doll let out a yawn, stretching his toothy jaw wide, and snuggled into my skirts. It was so precious, I almost wanted to cry.

"How do we make them?" Eliza asked, watching Faust with a keen, inquisitive gaze. "I've read about living dolls, but..."

"It ist the final and most difficult spell of housemagery," Luisa replied. "We've a few others to learn first, but not to worry. Ich vill show you the secrets of living dolls today."

From there, Lady Barclay ran us through a few more simple spells. The spell 'Bloom', which restores wilted flowers back to freshness. And the spell 'Catch Spark', which creates a tiny flare with which to light a candle. Simple tricks, easy to master.

When it came time to teach us the living doll spell, however, Luisa showed some hesitance. Her expression grew stony and she peered at each one of us in turn. "There ist one stipulation to me teaching this spell," she said, her tone very grave. "You are niet to abuse, neglect, or mistreat your living dolls. Under any circumstance. You are niet to give them or entrust them to reckless people. If ich so much hear a breath of someone harming a living doll, Ich vill make you pay twenty times over. These are not toys. They are living creatures. My nephew Cedric had his living doll broken by a girl his age. It is not merely breaking a item - but murdering a live creature with thoughts and feelings of their own."

Eliza's eyes bulged out of her head. "I would never!" she gasped.

Lady Barclay turned her gaze toward me. "Und you, Ms. Tanith?"

Solemnly, I placed a hand upon my breast. "You can count on me, my lady," I promised. "I'll treat them the same as I treat my own children."

"Sehr gut," Lady Barclay affirmed with a nod. "Living Tools and Living Dolls are similar, only tools vill need to be re-activated every time. You will draw your mana into your hands, and imbue a task into a tool, such as a whisk stirring the cream or a pan flipping its contents. My husband had a broom that swept whenever he asked it too, back when he was head butler."

"My," I sighed wistfully. "That would make cleaning the museum so much easier..."

At that moment, James suddenly dropped down from the ceiling. "New recruit upstairs, Ma," he said, landing catlike in the center of the ampitheater. All three of us ladies startled at the sight of him, with poor Faust nearly tumbling off my lap. I gathered the wooden fox up in my arms. All of a sudden, every bit of James's attention was focused on the fox. He gaped, fascinated, at it. "What IS that?"

And just like that, I knew what to get James for his next birthday!

I had to leave the lesson to go meet a new recruit James had found for the NGS (a young high-elven man of only twenty-one). But it's all for the best. My mana stores were tapped dry and I couldn't even think about trying to imbue life into a doll or a tool at the moment.

It occurs to me how much magic has become a part of my life. In a few days, I'll be having my second magic lesson with Miss Seregon. During our last encounter, I connected her to the Void for the first time. With the move to Almaris and the Inferi Attack, I felt another shift in the veil. It feels thinner here, easier to access the arcane energies and weave them into tangible form. I attempted the connection ritual on Miss Seregon without seeking out a Voidal Hearth. Wouldn't you know it? It took! She connected smoothly and easily.

he next step vill be harnessing the energies of the Void and drawing them out.

Every day, I'm learning magic, using magic, or teaching magic. It's odd. I never thought of myself as a sorceress, yet... here I am! With a working knowledge of several different kinds of voidal magic - and an ambition to learn even more!

 

Entry 131 –

1825

Spoiler

Icroth and I celebrated our 44th anniversary today, but it didn't go as well as I had hoped.

I woke up early this morning to make breakfast. My thought was that we'd spend the day together - perhaps go up to Providence and have a picnic in the Augustine Palace gardens. The roses ought to be blooming nicely this time of year. Yet as I was flipping pancakes over the stove, I suddenly heard a THUNK from upstairs! Icroth bellowed out my name from three floors above - “TANITH!”

Of course, I pulled the pancakes off the stove and rushed upstairs as quickly as possible. I found Icroth, still in his nightclothes, sitting on the floor of our bedroom. “It won't budge,” he told me, gesturing to his prosthetic leg. “I don't know how to fix it. It's not rusty. Not broken. Just...”

“Your leg?” I helped him back up onto the bed. Together, we gazed down at his Paladin-forged Limb of Light. He received it almost fifty years ago, after losing his leg during our disastrous exploration into the Nether. While Icroth had somewhat lapsed in his worship of Xan, the leg had never stopped working. I began at once to worry. Had Xan finally noticed my husband's lack of faith and withdrawn his powers? What would we do now that Icroth had no leg? “Are your other Xannic powers still working?” I asked him.

Icroth's eyes glowed silver as he called forth the Xannic mists. He allowed them to swirl in the air around him for a moment. “Yes,” he said before dispelling the magic. “Xan hasn't turned away from me. It's the leg. Nothing else.”

I frowned. A name popped into my head that I hadn't thought of in years. “Maybe we should send a letter to Jack...”

“Aye,” Icroth sighed. “Help me get changed and... look around. I've got a cane here somewhere.”

I retrieved his clothes from the armoire and helped him get dressed. After that, I started searching our room for a cane. He needed something to lean on - something to help him get around the house. It took me several minutes of searching, but I finally found an old, dusty wooden cane tucked up underneath the bed. Icroth gripped it in hand and leaned on it (and me) for support as he rose from the bed.

“Ahernan,” he said. “You're good to me, Tanith.”

“This won't do!” I replied with a huff. “We can't have you hopping around on one leg! How are you going to get downstairs like this?”

“Carefully,” Icroth grunted, putting his free arm around my waist. “Don't let go.”

We made it out the bedroom door and partway down the stairs before Icroth lost his balance and fell. Thank goodness, he wasn't hurt! He didn't fall very far. My husband is made of tough stuff. I scrambled to help him back up. As we were struggling to get down the stairs, I heard Eliza and James open the door in the foyer.

Oh - I haven't written in my diary for such a long time. I really fell behind when it came to my journaling. I ought to take a moment to explain our current living situation.

We (Icroth, James, and I) moved out of our flat in Karosgrad some years ago. King Heinrik II raised the taxes and, well... we couldn't afford to keep up with the payments any longer. The NGS is a volunteer organization and our donations don't cover regular salaries, so I've never really been paid. Icroth makes a bit of money selling things, but it wasn't enough to pay the hike in taxes. We simply couldn't keep the flat on our meager income, no matter how we budgeted.

Luckily, we have many loving friends. Eliza, my god-daughter, has become a very rich woman in recent years. She's all grown up now (over forty!) with a husband, children, and a business of her own. She forges atronach limbs for amputees like Icroth - and she makes quite a good bit of money doing it. When taxes became too steep for us in Karosgrad, Eliza offered our family rooms in her manor.

Her Orenian manor.

That's right, I'm living in Oren once again. Though... I must admit I don't feel very welcome here. I'll write more on that later, though. Back to the matter at hand -

Eliza and James found us on the staircase. “Is everything all right?” Eliza asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“It's Icroth's leg,” I explained. “It stopped working all of a sudden!”

Eliza thumped her forehead with the heel of her palm. “Oh Lord, why didn't I think to tell you all?” she gasped. “I should have known this would happen. I'm sorry!”

Icroth stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Limbs of Light have stopped working all across Almaris,” Eliza replied. “I've had scores of paladins come to me with orders for Atronach limbs. None of their holy prosthetics seem to work any longer. No one can figure out exactly why. It's a curious anomaly.”

“Oh no, did Xan die?” James quipped from behind her on the stairs.

Icroth chuckled. “Afraid not.” (Those two! Always joking around! Even in situations like this one!)

“I wish you had told us!” I sighed, thinking of how expensive Eliza's custom atronach limbs were. Between the three of us, we had practically nothing in our bank accounts. “We could have been saving up to replace his leg before now...”

“Save up? You must be joking, Auntie!” Eliza said quickly. “I'll make Uncle Icroth a new leg for free. Right here, right now - no charge!”

I balked. “What? Are you sure? You usually charge thousands for them!”

Eliza waved me off. “It's no trouble. You're family,” she replied. “Let's get Icroth down to my lab.”

“You grab his arms, Ma,” James said. “I'll carry his legs.”

“Leg,” Icroth corrected him.

James smirked. “Leg.”

We somehow got Icroth down to Eliza's workshop in the manor basement. (We didn't actually have to carry him, thank goodness.) There, we found Eliza already hard at work assembling her materials. I must take a moment to brag about my god-daughter. She has become a master mage, better than me despite the fact I've had a 300-year head start. Her knowledge of the Void is practically unparalleled. I'm amazed that she's achieved so much in such a relatively short amount of time. Lately, Eliza has even been teaching me about transfiguration. My hope is that I'll become skilled enough to help with her atronach forging business. She's mentioned before that she has more orders than she can handle.

We discussed what type of limb Icroth needed. Eliza examined his now-defunct Limb of Light and determined that she could convert it into an atronach limb with little trouble. The three of us - James, Icroth, and me - sat and watched her as she worked. A few hours later, she had Icroth's leg all fixed and functional again with a new atronach core instead of his old lightstone power source. Thank God for Eliza! Poor dear, though. Fixing Icroth's limb utterly exhausted her and she nearly collapsed once the work was complete. I made sure she got safely back upstairs and into bed. Eliza's business often drains her energy like this. That's part of why I want to help her. She gets so many orders - and every single one of them leaves her wrecked. (Although I would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted by the money too...)

Fixing Icroth's leg took up a large portion of our day. By the time all was said and done, we didn't really have much of an opportunity to celebrate our anniversary. I couldn't help but feel a bit sad, but... well... there will be other anniversaries. 44 isn't that great of a milestone. Next year will be much more important.

I was married to Mr. Toov for 45 years, you see. As of this writing, my marriage to Mr. Toov is the longest I've ever been with someone romantically. Next year, Icroth will match him. The year after, Icroth will surpass him.

It occurred to me the other day as well - I've been in the NGS longer than I was ever part of the White Rose. I joined the NGS in 1772. It's now 1825. Fifty-three years. To put things into perspective, I only served the White Rose for forty-eight. As I grow older, that part of my life becomes smaller and further away. One day, I'll no longer be defined by my past. One day, everyone will know me as Tanith of the NGS and not Tanith of the White Rose.

Speaking of the NGS, our little group of scholars and explorers has been flourishing lately. We opened up a new branch in Providence. I've been helping our Providence curator, Beryl Carrington, put together the Imperial History exhibit. I published two new books on Imperial history, covering the Johannian era and the modern era. My summary of the Johannian era received a lot of praise for its accuracy. Funnily enough, I've been recognized as one of the foremost scholars on the subject of Imperial history. Yet despite that, I still don't feel welcome in Oren.

Ostromir Carrion died a few years back. When the Ministry of Justice autopsied his body, they discovered... several disturbing things. Namely, that Count Carrion was no longer entirely human. John Napier - Edward's half-orc son (all grown up now too!) - told me about it. He works in the MoJ as an officer. They suspect Ostromir was undead, perhaps a necromancer or a Striga. They staged a raid on Dobrov, the Carrion stronghold, and discovered further evidence of Ostromir's meddling in dark magic.

Not to mention... my old, broken glasses. He kept them as a trophy all these years. I shudder to think what he's done with his trophies - what dark magic he may have used on them.

Finally, though, I have real proof of what happened to me in the year 1789. Ostromir Carrion really did kidnap me and beat me. God only knows what other heinous acts he committed before he wiped my memory with his magic.

I should be happy to finally have proof. With his death, Oren is safe for me once again. Yet I can't help but feel uneasy.

Many Orenians still think I'm a liar. They claim the evidence against Ostromir was forged or planted there by a vengeful John Napier. While I've been working in Oren, I can't help but notice... eyes on my back. Ostromir's children and grandchildren watch me from afar and whisper about me in their dark corners. Just yesterday, an O'Rourke child approached me in the coffeehouse and told me plainly that Ostromir Carrion was a hero and that I was a fraud. Thirty-six years have passed since the 1789 Ostromir incident, yet it still haunts me even now.

I worry that I'll never be truly welcome in Oren ever again.

Miss Catherine - a new member of the NGS who we hired to assist with Providence museum security - advised me to stand firm. “You should just take what you want,” she told me the other day. “You deserve to be here. Don't let anyone push you out again.”

I want to act on her advice, but I'm afraid I'm not strong enough. Even after 550 years on this earth, I still feel so small and fragile.

How long do I have to keep being brave? How long before I can simply love Oren in peace, as I once did so many years ago?

I look back on my old diary entries and it strikes me how very hopeful and optimistic I seemed about the future. I wanted to create a better Oren together with all the seemingly enlightened men and women of the Petrine era. Cynicism has crept in since then. Doubts about whether or not Oren is as enlightened as it seems on its face. It saddens me to see how disillusioned I have become.

Yet perhaps there's still hope for the future. Eliza and John ran for the House of Commons recently - and they both won! The corrupt old Josephite party is out. Maybe now we can truly begin creating the bright and expansive future that I dreamt of in 1765.

 

Entry 132 –

1826

Spoiler

Yellow is such a lovely color, isn't it?

I decided I didn't like the pink paper anymore, so I've switched to this nice, sunny yellow. What a soothing shade, don't you think? Yellow is a joyful color. It reminds me of dust motes swirling in a sunbeam. Of candleflames and old book pages. Of fluffy-headed dandelions growing in open fields. Chains of gold and butter melting, sizzling, bubbling in a cast-iron skillet. Of ivory. It reminds me of the lichens you find growing deep in the woods, on the bark of wizened trees. Mr. Toov's hair. The yellow center of the White Rose banner. Of stained teeth. Of dirty fingernails. Of pus. Of urine. Of rot. Of death. A death so final that no power either in the lands of God or man could ever bring me back from it.

I'm so frightened, I can barely hold my pen. I keep looking at these pages - at this color - and feeling the fear cascade over me like a tidal wave. Fear, yes, but longing too. A longing so intense, it threatens to subsume me. I don't know what I'm doing. Please, I'm begging someone to stop me before it's too late. I've been tempted by the devil and I don't know if I'm strong enough to resist.

Icroth and I went on an outing today. Lately, I heard of a new dark elven settlement in Urguan called Nor'Asath and I wanted to visit. My relationship to my own people - the Mali'ker - has long been a complicated one. Many years ago, Juan Lyons and I ventured to Renelia - and I found myself upset and disturbed by what I saw there. Yet I felt compelled to try again to connect with my people.

As I age, I find myself with a growing desire for understanding, knowledge, and the ability to place myself within a historical and social context. The truth is, I don't know where I come from. I never knew my parents. I was taken from my home and displaced at a young age. For an elf, the world is always in flux. You watch as nations rise and fall around you, as entire continents shake apart in world-tearing apocalypses. There's no anchor. Nothing permanent, fixed, or unchanging. I find myself grasping more and more for something permanent. Something that will always be mine. Stable, fixed things that I might use to define myself, to place myself in context. In a way, that permanent fixture is my family - my husband Icroth and my son James. My hope is that I shall always have them. That no matter what happens, I can call myself Icroth's wife and James's mother. Yet even loved ones are more impermanent than any of us would like to imagine. When Icroth and I ventured into the Nether, he lost his leg in a horrible accident none of us could have predicted. His prosthetic reminds me every day that losing Icroth might be little more than a bad roll of the dice.

Going to Nor'Asath was yet another attempt to place myself within a historical and sociopolitical context, an attempt to define who and what Tanith 'is.' We were waylaid on the road by a strange encounter, yet I think that encounter granted me more understanding of what I am than any idle day-trip.

Oh, I'm so frightened. I'm so frightened. Someone, please, catch me before I fall. The precipice is yawning and the temptation to step off the ledge is so great. I hear it. The call of the Void.

Icroth and I were traveling along the road just south of Eastfleet when we ran into an unusual, towering figure. We found ourselves face-to-face with a creature of similar composition to Eliza's atronachs - an immense metal being with a chassis of burnished gold. The atronach approached us with a query. "Do you fancy yourselves scholars?" it asked in a polite tone.

Icroth and I glanced at each other. "Her more than me," he said, nodding in my direction. "But I like to read, yes. You could call me an amateur scholar, I suppose."

I found myself at a loss for what to say, so I just nodded along. "Amateur is a good word for it, I think..." I murmured, not sure where this line of questioning would lead.

"Ranking matters little," the atronach said in a metallic voice. It had a myriad of tentacles hanging from its head that twisted and curled with creaking joints. "I serve the King in Yellow. I would invite you to an audience with Its Majesty."

"...The King in... Yellow?" I repeated, my brow furrowed in consternation. In all my research, I'd never stumbled upon that name before - and I considered myself very well-versed in history indeed.

Icroth cleared his throat, eying the atronach warily. "We are unfamiliar with whom you serve, Ilir."

"The King in Yellow. Patron of scholars, artists, magi, and students alike," The entity went on to explain. "Its Majesty seeks the learned and it has invited you."

"What does this... invitation entail?" Icroth asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

The atronach creaked as it replied. "For some, an audience with Its Majesty is but a pleasant conversation. But for others, it is a life-changing experience. One from Yong Ping walked away with a smile. I walked away with unerring purpose."

Oh, why did we say yes? We should have politely thanked the atronach for its offer, then departed on our way. We could have had a nice, ordinary evening in Nor'Asath. Yet something about the promise of knowledge and purpose resonated with me. I knew the Atronach had to be some sort of voidal entity, some creature of chaos and power, but -

When the atronach offered us its cup of hallucinatory ichor-wine, we drank. It was pink, the wine. Like it was made just for me.

I don't know precisely what happened next. My eyes fluttered shut and, when they opened, I was no longer on the road to Urguan. Instead, I found myself standing atop a yellow sand dune amidst an endless, rolling desert. Veils of saffron mist shifted around us, concealing spiraling towers and alien, bulbous plants. Pools of yellowish pus congealed in the divots between the dunes. Muscular pits of chattering teeth dotted the landscape. It was like nothing I had ever seen or imagined, not even in dreams. As terrifying as the strange landscape was, however, it was also beautiful. Hues of amber, gold, ivory - all mixing and melding like shades on a painter's palette. Icroth took my hand and we made our way down the slope of the dune, toward a banquet table that had been laid out for us.

"Please, be my guest," a resonant yet androgynous voice sounded from around us. "Sit wherever you like."

I felt a presence behind me and spun around. There stood a towering figure in a long, yellow robe with a crown of ruby and gold upon his (its?) head. He bowed to us. "Welcome," he said, his voice no longer booming but reduced to a polite conversational volume. "I hope you enjoy the painting I've made for you tonight. I've come to prefer more surrealist landscapes. I used to welcome my guests into a castle, but... Well, when you can make anything, creating vast extravagant halls lends one a... villainous air, does it not?" He chuckled.

I looked around. "You made all this?"

"I did indeed," the King replied. "Please, no need to stand. Sit, sit!" He gestured us toward the table. Not wanting to be impolite, Icroth and I took our seats. The King joined us, taking his place at the head of the table upon a magnificent golden throne. "Now, forgive me, but..." The King steepled his fingers in front of him. Slender, ivory fingers. "I find myself at a terrible disadvantage that I should like to remedy. You know who I am, but... I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

Icroth cleared his throat. "Icroth Vursur, Your Majesty. Paladin of Xan. Explorer with the Northern Geographical Society. And husband to this lovely lady here."

I blushed. "We're glad to be added to your acquaintance, sir. Oh! Ah... my name is Tanith, Your Majesty. Tanith Vursur. I'm the Chief of Research with the Northern Geographical Society and... an avid lover of magic! I've been practicing magic for about 300 years now. I know that's not as long as some, but..."

"A scholar and a magus! Marvelous," the King replied with what sounded like a smile in his voice. I could not see his face beneath the hooded robe. "I know a great many magi, scholars, and... madmen who resembled scholars." He laughed again. "Some, with my aid, have drawn closer to embracing the Void as any fleshy being possibly could."

"Are we... in the Void now?" I ventured cautiously.

"No, my dear," the King answered. "Your minds, only your minds. Your physical forms are curled up safe in your beds at home. Drinking from my servant's chalice allowed me to establish a connection between us. To reach out from my domain here in the cosm and touch your thoughts through your voidal connection. It is something like an evocation - mentalism. You are the dreamer, but not the architect of this dream. That would be me. The food you taste, the air you feel- they are my design. My memories and thoughts; much like an illusion though I can only affect the sleeping mind. Were we to meet in person you would find my effects upon the world..." He paused, letting out a low laugh, "...far more potent. Mrs. Vursur, what magical arts do you practice?"

"Oh! I'm... really just a hobbyist," I muttered, embarrassed. "I'm good at water and ice evocation. Those are the two I've been practicing the longest. I'm competent enough to teach them. Oh - and I learned Voidal Translocation from my friend Serenity, the Violet Sorceress. I don't know if you've met her. Ah, I practice a bit of housemagery too... and my lovely godchild Eliza is teaching me transfiguration."

"An interesting pedigree." The King picked up his wine goblet from the table. An assortment of tentacles large and small emerged from beneath his cowl enveloped the goblet and pulled it into the shadow under his hood. "Why is it that you've pursued magic, Mrs. Vursur? Are you really just a hobbyist - or do you seek a deeper understanding?"

I paused in thought. "Well..." I began slowly. "I do consider myself a scholar, Your Majesty. I think by understanding the world... we can better figure out our place within it. Who we are and... what it means to be ourselves."

"Ah, that is a question that often troubles the Descendant mind." The goblet which the King had consumed fell out of the bottom of his robe. He picked it up with a fleshy, pale tentacle and placed it back on the table. "Your world is a curious one and we have many theories as to the reason for its existence. You see, I was not made as you were made, ma'am. I simply happened. Not a creation guided by a sentient hand, but an event. You, however... You have a maker. Your world is a brilliant work of architecture, remarkable in its stability and permanency. Such things simply do not appear from nothing in the Void. Someone had to craft it deliberately."

I tried not to stare too much at his gruesome appendages. "Yes, I've read things like that," I said. "The Void is a place of changeability - influenced by... memories and imagination and willpower. Which isn't possible in our world. Things are what they are. And you can't alter their fundamental nature."

"Oh, but the Void is not as separate from your world as you might think, ma'am," the King corrected me. "You are part of the Void. How your maker - whoever he, she, or they might be - achieved such stability is beyond me, though. I am a thought given realization, a realm unto myself, a creator and a creation, but even I do not have such power."

"But out here... you can change whatever you want?" I asked.

"As can you, Mrs. Vursur." He pushed the wine goblet across the table toward me. "To a lesser degree than I, but... pour yourself some wine. Imagine your favorite kind."

I picked up the bottle. "Auvergnat Rouge Classique," I said as I tipped the spout into the goblet. "A 1400's vintage, made from Valois grapes in the sunny valleys near Abresi... I haven't tasted it in centuries."

"Go on," the King prompted me. I lifted the goblet to my lips. Although my memory of the wine had been faint, it somehow conjured the exact taste I had been thinking about. In my mind, I remembered the light-drenched vineyards of Valois county. Sitting in the garden with Rose and Bran all those many, many years ago.

"Amazing," I breathed. "Icroth, taste this."

My husband took the goblet and drank. "Delicious," he said.

"If our world is part of the Void, though, Your Majesty," I posited to the entity, "Would it be possible for a sufficiently powerful mage to... exert these kinds of changes over the mortal plane as well?"

"Spoken like a woman who wants something very badly," the King replied.

I glanced over at my husband, feeling suddenly shy. "It's just... there's... something I've wanted for a very long time, but no one seems to have the power to make it happen," I murmured. "It's such a small thing. I'm afraid you would laugh at me, Your Majesty."

"You're among friends, Mrs. Vursur," the entity reassured me.

"For a long time, I've wanted to..." I reached up to touch the tips of my shorn ears. "I've thought it would be nice to regrow my ears and... I..." My face flushed and I struggled to get the words out. "More than anything, I want to have a baby."

The King exhaled a sigh. "Ah, the old elven curse... The archdaemon's sting never seems to fade, does it?" he mused, toying with the fringes of his robe. "I'm afraid my powers cannot provide you with an answer to that, Mrs. Vursur. But... there are other paths to attaining what it is you want." As I watched, he stooped down and gathered something from beneath the table. When he straightened up, he carried a baby in his arms, swaddled in cloth.

A baby with soft grey skin and a tuft of pink hair.

I gasped and tears sprang to my eyes. The King passed the baby over into my arms, where I gathered her to me. "As a Descendant in Almaris, you are trapped within a context not of your making," the King explained to me. His words passed over me like a fog. All I could see was the baby in my arms. "You are bound by limitations you did not set for yourself. The linearity of time. The physicality of your body. The curses and blessings of archdaemons and archaenguls. But there are methods of escape. When you are satisfied with the life you have lived, or your body begins to fail... I might share with you the gift of eternity, shedding you from the creation you have been bound to and allowing you, a discordant piece of the divine ego, to expand and become a host upon yourself."

Icroth stared at the baby, then looked back up at the King in Yellow. "The gift of eternity?" he repeated.

"Icroth..." I hiccuped, unable to control the tears flowing down my cheeks and dribbling off my chin. "Look, she has your eyes."

He reached over to hold the baby. I let him take her. The tableau of my husband, sitting there holding our much-wanted child in his arms - it nearly broke my heart. "She's beautiful," he said quietly. "Oh, Tanith... how precious."

"Infinity," the King intoned. "Innumerable possibilities. Strength beyond strength. The ability to create for yourself any paradise you desire. To have the child you desire. It is a path few magi choose to walk. It comes with an understanding of the Void that many fear to attain."

"Why do they fear it?" Icroth asked the King before passing the baby back over to me. She felt so real and weighty in my hands. Warm and alive. She wriggled and cooed and nestled into me. The instant love I felt for her was overpowering.

"To understand the Void is to understand your place within it and the nature of your reality," the King replied to Icroth. "Ordered and sequential, you are egos assigned to discordant pieces of the Void. Your angelic servitors, your daemonic orderers, every rock, every tree, every man, woman, and child. Few seek to grasp this reality because to do so is to attain an actualization of one's frightful insignificance. You are the product of a maker which has destroyed its own ego in order to experience itself, a universe observing itself, an ultimate narcissism. You understand it by words but to grasp what it means to be infinity is a maddening thing. To sever your connection to the inhibiting laws of your own existence... To seek the cosm beyond and make for yourself the reality you demand; to sacrifice oneself in order to fully understand what it means to be both creator and creation. In time, I can show you what it means to be as I am... To abandon the rules of this reality and substitute your own."

The meaning of his words struck me. In short, he implied that... if I truly wanted to have a baby... I would need to forsake the realm of the Descendants entirely and immerse myself in a plane where reality could be whatever I wanted it to be. In short...

I would need to become a God.

"It is a deep and serious demand," the King continued. "To attain the power of creation is neither easy nor simple. It requires a connection to the Void greater than any other. Greater than Voidal eminence. It is the act of enabling yourself to fuse with the void over time, succumbing to the poison of it and growing physically weaker perhaps... but gaining mastery over the realm to shape it as you see fit."

I pondered these things as we spoke. "I... don't think that's a decision I can make on the spur on the moment, but..." My eyes drifted down to the beautiful little girl in my arms. "I want to know more."

"Of course, it's no choice to be taken lightly. But... should you wish to pursue this knowledge to its end... My herald, the one who gave you the goblet," said the King, "lingers in Ando Alur. If you do him the favor of bringing others to meet him, then I will impart the gifts of my knowledge unto you. For now, though, you must return to the waking world."

Tears sprang into my eyes as I pressed the baby close to my breast. "I don't want to let her go," I hiccuped.

The king placed his hand on my shoulder. "Given time," he said comfortingly, "you'll be able to see her again with nothing more than a snap of your finger. Five people, Mrs. Vursur. If you bring five to see me, I'll begin teaching you the secrets of my power."

And with that... we woke up. Just as he said, we were lying on the bedsheets in our room at Witten's End.

Icroth and I lay quietly on our bed for a time afterward. At length, he broke the silence. "I think I want to buy a yellow coat," he said - and I laughed.

"I saw a yellow dress in the secondhand store in Providence," I replied. "It seemed like my size. I might go get it."

"It would look good on you."

"Yes..."

We held hands in silence for a while. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. At that moment, I didn't even know what was going on in my own mind. Fear. Excitement.

The Void isn't a real place. Or, at least, not real as we Descendants understand reality. Everything in the Void is a dream or a memory. Formless energy given shape by the mortal minds that wander through the darkness.

The baby I held in my arms. She wasn't real. She was a projection of my will, of my desire, of my frustrated maternal instinct. Yet, when I hugged her close to me, she felt so warm. I could hear her voice, smell her, and look into her eyes.

I've been to the Nether, which is part of the Void. I felt the heat on my skin, smelled the sulfur. The wounds I suffered in the Nether still scar me today. Icroth lost his leg there. Is the Nether somehow less real than our current world, even though it's nothing more than the dream of an archdaemon?

If I were to create a realm within the Void... wouldn't it likewise be just as real? If I had that baby in the Void... wouldn't she be real, so long as I was there with her? Any place I made for Icroth, for James, for the baby, for myself... wouldn't it be real too?

Aren't dreams real while you dream them?

I want to see her again so badly. That baby girl with her feathers of pink hair and pale blue eyes. But I'm frightened. I'm staring at a yawning abyss and my deepest desires compel me to jump into it. Please, someone, stop me. Stop me, but... don't stop me. Part of me truly, deeply wants to fall.

 

Entry 133 –
1826

Spoiler

I went to the secondhand store in Providence and bought that yellow dress I mentioned. Unfortunately, it required some alterations to fit. While I was there, I also bought Icroth a yellow suit jacket - a lovely mustard colored velvet with some brown tones in it. Last night, I stayed up late making alterations to the garments so they fit us perfectly. When I was done, we tried them on for each other. Icroth laughed joyfully when he saw me in my new dress. "You look lovelier than ever, my dear," he said and kissed me.

"Lovelier than our wedding?" I teased him and he smirked.

"Every day I'm with you, you grow more beautiful," he said. "But you are especially lovely now. Yellow is perfect on you." Of course, he looked especially handsome in his new jacket as well! I never imagined he might look so good in yellow. We both looked better than ever. Happier than ever.

I am trying to imagine what I shall look like in the future, once I have learned what the King in Yellow has to teach me. I can't deny that the King was... a little bit alarming in his appearance, what with all the tentacles and eyes. Yet there was an elegance to him too. I wonder if I shall become like that, if I take him up on his offer. Will I be frightening? Or beautiful? I don't want my baby to be scared of me.

Truth be told, I'm still not certain whether or not I want to accept the gift that's been put on my plate. But... my thought is... there's no harm in learning more, is there? I want to understand fully before I make a decision one way or the other. Talking, learning, gathering information... that's my job, isn't it? After all, I am the Chief of Research. So, for now... I have decided to take the King in Yellow up on his offer and introduce him to five people. He's not dangerous. I don't think he's dangerous. No matter what Eliza says. She doesn't understand! She's judging people before she even knows them! Is that any way for a researcher and a mage to behave? Good Lord, what would Cellie think if she could see her daughter acting like this! Leaping to conclusions? Making judgments without all the information?

SHE'S JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE THE KING CHOSE ME AND NOT HER.

ELIZA ALWAYS WANTS TO ACT LIKE SHE'S BETTER AND SMARTER THAN EVERYONE.

WELL, SHE ISN'T. THE KING PICKED ME! HE PICKED ME! HE PICKED ME!

SHE'S JEALOUS AND SHE WANTS THE POWER ALL FOR HERSELF!!!

Ah.

I lost my temper.

I find I am a bit easier to rile these days.

Like I said, I want to understand more about this 'gift of eternity' that the King in Yellow has to offer. It's a frightening prospect, giving up one's mortal body and becoming one with the Void. Yet, this body I have is broken. In my heart, I've always had this deep, unsatisfied longing. I want to create and nurture. Every time I see my friends - Chirr, Eliza - with their babies, it... hurts me in my heart. I envy what they have. My age and my infertility have made it impossible for me to produce children. While I'm stuck in this limited form, my... my deepest wish will never be granted. But... if I were to... cast off this shell... and step into the Void...

I could create anything I wanted. Fulfill my every desire. I could make a beautiful world just for me and Icroth and James and...

And my baby. I have been thinking of names for her. Kybele, maybe. Kybele Vursur. At night, I dream about her. She's so close. Just on the other side of the Veil.

Am I really ready to give up everything? To shed my body and become like the King in Yellow?

I don't know. I need to learn more before I decide.

Finding people for the King in Yellow has been difficult, however. I thought, mistakenly, that Eliza would be thrilled to speak with him. After all, he's a powerful Voidal entity with great knowledge about magic and the nature of the universe. He could teach her so much!

Yet I'm sorry to say that Eliza did not understand. She sat me down at the dinner table along with her nephew, Juan Jose. (Juan Jose is the son of Alejandro and the grandson of my old friend Juan Lyons. They really do look just alike... like talking to the ghost of Juan.) She told me - "Auntie, this 'yellow king' that you speak of. He's not what he seems." Her eyes widened as she looked at me. "He's a Voidal Horror! I know all about him! I've been hunting him down... his intentions are nothing short of apocalyptic!"

I frowned. "Why, who told you that, dear?"

"I've been keeping you in the dark about some things and I'm sorry," Eliza said to me, grasping my hands across the table. "There's a group of cultists active in Almaris who follow this King in Yellow. Their end goal is to totally destroy the barrier separating our world from the Void, ending all life as we know it."

I smiled and gently took my hands from hers. "That's not what the King wants at all, Eliza... I'm sorry to say it, but you're mistaken." In fact, I laughed. "You poor thing, you're getting all worked up and catastrophizing over nothing!"

"I am not, auntie!" Eliza protested. "I've been investigating this thing for four years!"

"Eliza, dear, you're talking nonsense," I patiently explained to her. "He has no interest in invading our world. In fact, he wants the opposite. He wants to liberate those of us who are held back by our mortal bodies."

"It's the same thing!" Eliza barked at me, her face turning red. "Can't you see he's using you?!"

I did my best to remain calm. I spoke gently to her, trying to calm her nerves. "Eliza... if you just spoke to him, I'm sure he would clear up all your misconceptions."

"And he'd eat my soul while he's at it!" she shouted.

"Darling, don't shout at me," I sighed. "He'd love to meet you, you know. He loves mages. He's met some very famous ones. Wouldn't it be wonderful to hear all about the famous mages of the past? He could teach you so much! I promise you, dear, all he wants to do is talk."

"What's his angle, wanting to talk to all these people?" Juan interjected.

"To recruit people to his cult!" Eliza hissed through her teeth.

"He's a scholar," I replied, cutting Eliza off before she could launch into another rant. "There aren't many books out there in the Void, so he collects stories and memories from the people who visit him."

"He's a liar is what he is," Eliza shot back.

By now, she had begun to get on my nerves. I took a slow, deep breath and forced a smile at her. "Eliza... he's going to help me have a baby," I said. "Just like I always wanted. And he'll help me fix my ears too. All I have to do is bring bright and quick-witted people like you to come and talk to him. That's all. Just a friendly chat. Eliza... you know how much I've wanted a baby. Surely, you can do this for me. It's such a small thing."

Eliza gawked at me. "He can't DO that, Auntie. Voidal magic can't create life. Not Descendant life, at least!"

"You don't understand yet, dear, but you will once you talk with him," I replied. "I held a baby in my arms. She had pink hair and blue eyes. She was real, Eliza. She was beautiful. I can't wait for you to meet her."

"Your baby wasn't real, Tanith," Juan said, leaning over to grip my shoulder.

Now, I consider myself a very patient woman. Patience is a quality all elves must develop. But at Juan's comment, I felt the wire-thin thread of my patience snap. I lost my temper - something that doesn't happen often - and I yelled at him. "She isn't real YET," I howled. "But she WILL be! I just have to do what the King asked and I can learn to make her real."

"Did he tell you how?" Eliza pressed me.

I fell silent, not sure if I wanted to elaborate. "Eliza," I said, trying to calm myself as I changed the subject. "Please. It's such a small thing, to just go and talk to him. He won't hurt you. He won't ask anything from you. Just a conversation..."

"I don't think that's true, Tanith," Juan said.

"Why are you both so afraid?" I asked. "He isn't scary - not once you look past his exterior and speak with him properly."

Eliza grit her teeth. "I'll never stop fighting against these creatures that want to destroy our world," she said, her gaze lowered toward the table. "I need to preserve this world so Emma can inherit it."

Emma Rose, her daughter.

At the mention of Emma, my frayed patience snapped again. "Oh, of course," I said through a clenched jaw. "You would do anything for your baby. But you won't do one single thing for mine. For hundreds of years, I have tried. And tried. And tried to have a baby of my own. Only to... miscarry over and over... and watch them all die. Before they even got a chance to live! She was... my baby was... exactly as I always dreamed she would be. And I could HAVE her! If you just... did me this one favor!"

I slammed my hands down on the table as I pushed myself to my feet. "If you loved me, you would talk to the King!" I bellowed at Eliza before storming off and locking myself in my room.

Eliza doesn't understand. She's jealous. She hates that I was chosen by the King and she wasn't. She hates that I got to meet him and she didn't. She hates that I will receive the gift of eternity and she won't. She's so jealous that she's making up lies. She's angry at me because she cannot live as long as I will. She's going to die and lose all her magic. Magic won't stop her from aging. She's jealous because I am going to become a God and she will be left to molder in a grave.

Eliza, we could have both become Gods! But you're too jealous and stubborn to realize what you're missing!

...

Is this how I really feel?

...

What is wrong with me?

...

I love Eliza. She's my godchild. She's so smart and talented. I really do admire her. I...

And... what about James in all of this? Isn't he my son too? Yes, he's adopted, but... he's been part of our family for decades now. Don't I love him? Of course I love him. I love him just as much as if I gave birth to him. It doesn't matter that he's adopted. He's still my child. Do I care more about this... potential child than I do about my real son, here in this world?

...

I'm so frightened. I don't feel like I'm in control of my body. I don't like the words I'm saying. I don't like the thoughts I am thinking. I don't like the things I'm writing here on the page.

Is this me?

Is this what I've become?

This isn't the real me, is it? I know - I know the King in Yellow is a monster. Of course I trust Eliza. Why wouldn't I trust her? She's my family. I love her like a daughter. I held her in my arms when she was just a baby...

Yes, I know I'm being manipulated! But maybe - maybe I want to be manipulated.

I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I feel like I'm drunk. I feel like I'm watching myself from outside of myself. I feel like I'm watching myself act on a stage. Doing things I wouldn't do. Today, I told everyone that my favorite color is yellow.

My favorite color isn't yellow.

My favorite color is pink. Isn't it? Pink has always been my favorite color.

Hasn't it?

 

Entry 134 –
1826

Spoiler

We had one of our annual NGS meetings today. I very nearly didn't attend it. Eliza and I haven't exactly made amends for our last fight - and I didn't know what I would say if we ran into one another again. Yet I've missed the last several meetings, so I felt that I ought to make an appearance. This morning, after breakfast, James and I packed up our materials and set out for Karosgrad.

The morning sunlight rendered everything in buttery pastels. I inhaled the dewy summer air and released in it a long stream of breath. James walked alongside me down the path, watching me out of the corner of his eye. "Love the new dress, Ma," he offered up, breaking the stillness of the early day. "Very sunny."

I hadn't yet told him about the King in Yellow. I didn't know if I wanted to. So, benignly, I smiled at him. "Isn't it? I was thinking of dying my hair too." Twirling a strand around my finger, I asked him - "What do you think? Would I make a good blonde?"

James squinted. "I can't rightly picture it," he answered. "I've never seen a blonde dark elf before."

"After five hundred years, I wondered if the pink might be getting old."

"Try blue if you're feeling like a change of pace," James suggested. "It'd make your eyes pop."

The thought of blue didn't much appeal to me, but I couldn't tell James why. "Blue is all right," I said. "But I've just been very drawn to yellow lately..."

With that, the conversation faded away back into silence. We walked along quietly for a good bit, listening to the birds twitter their morning song. Did my son notice anything off about me, I wondered? After Eliza's reaction, I felt reluctant to tell anyone about my encounter with the King in Yellow. Yet his name sat on the tip of my tongue. Every time I glimpsed something even slightly yellow, I wanted with all my heart to stand and stare. We walked past dozens of dandelions and daisies growing wild by the roadside. I could have gone and laid among those flowers all day and been just as happy as a pig in mud.

We arrived in Karosgrad after about an hour's walk. With the Eastfleet portal located so close by, I can hardly complain about my work commute. Upon reaching the Haeseni capital, we made our way to the museum and took the elevator up to the third-floor meeting hall. James and I took our usual spots. As we waited for the meeting to begin, I began noticing how many yellow things there were in the meeting hall. A yellow carpet. Yellow banners. The golden bell Cellie (and Otto) always rang at the start of the meeting. Even the walls were painted a bright, cheerful shade of yellow. I felt the King's presence looming in the back of my mind. A feeling of dread began to build in the pit of my stomach. Other members of the NGS - Eliza included - gathered one by one for the meeting. Yet their faces were a blur to me. In my mind's eye, the yellow items around the room shone like miniature suns - turning everything else into a black and featureless silhouette.

Otto stepped up behind the podium and rang the bell. "Today's meeting of the Northern Geographical Society has now begun!"

With all honesty, I couldn't tell you really what the meeting was about. A dull drone filled my head, drowning out the voices around me. I think James mentioned something about a new charter, but I wasn't listening. My eyes stayed fixed on the yellow throughout the room - moving from yellow to yellow without pause. Yellow banners. Yellow bell. Yellow rug. Yellow wall.

Otto called my name, breaking through my haze. "Tanith, any update on the Research department?"

I blanched, snapping back to reality. "O-Oh..." My thought swam. My mind felt like a carriage wheel spinning in the mud. "Y-Yes, I'm happy to report that I've finished writing all the pamphlets for the Imperial History exhibit in Providence. All that's left is to put the exhibit items where they go. I'd like to get that done before the end of the Saint's Month..."

I felt Eliza staring at me. My eyes unfocused and I gazed past Otto at the yellow wall behind him. Words came out of my mouth, but I couldn't tell you precisely what I said. Sweat gathered on my brow and my tongue felt strangely heavy in my mouth. The yellow wall behind Otto obscured him as if he were standing in front of a bright window. A golden expanse of color, infinite in its reach, searing in its brightness. Sunlight to burn away the trappings of my mortal form and pull me into the yawning, awful, black mouth of the Void.

I stood up suddenly. "I-I'm sorry," I gasped out, running a hand over my sweat-soaked face. "I'm not feeling well... so... I might go home and... rest for a bit..." With a rustle of my skirts, I turned and darted out of the meeting room.

James chased after me. "Ma!" He cornered me on the elevator. "Ma, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine." I forced a smile. "I just need some air."

"Something's off about you today." James gripped the elevator crank. The mechanisms creaked and we began to descend. "Talk to me."

My smile faltered. I couldn't keep it up anymore. "Eliza and I had a fight the other day," I said. "We've never fought before, so... it was a little upsetting."

James folded his arms. He tapped his toe against the elevator's metal grate flooring. "This sounds like a Personal Relations matter," he concluded with a nod. "Come on, let's head to my office and talk it out."

I forgot to mention - Otto appointed James the head of our Personal Relations division. He's been serving in the role for some time now and I really couldn't be prouder of him. James takes a unique interpretation of the term Personal Relations, though. He likes to advise the members of the NGS on their problems. Some call it meddling, but I think that's just how James shows his love.

James led me to his office and sat me down in front of his desk. He poured me a glass of water without asking me, but I was grateful to have it. My body felt overheated. The walls of his office were painted in a soothing green. The overbearing yellow walls of the meeting room burned me like an intense desert sun, so the green eased my worries like a cooling aloe. "Eliza thinks I've gone crazy," I said. "She's telling everyone I lost my mind. I... I don't know. Maybe I have gone crazy. I feel... strange."

"You know I've got a level head, Ma." James sat down in his leather office chair. "If I thought you were crazy, I would tell you."

I smiled at him. "Yes, dear, I know. Thank you." Coming to a pause, I gazed down at my hands. "...I want you to hear me out before you judge me."

"I'm all ears," James said - wiggled his ears.

So, I told him. I told him exactly what I'd told Eliza and everyone else. How Icroth and I had taken a trip down to Nor'Asath, but we were waylaid on the road by an atronach of burnished gold with a bouquet of prehensile tentacles. I told him how that atronach had invited us to meet his master - and about our swirling, saffron dream in the Void. About the voidal monarch with whom we'd had an audience.

I began to tear up. "Oh, James. Your father and I got into something very serious. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Eliza is so furious with me. But - but - but - if it works, I could..." I trailed off, unable to say what I wanted to say.

I looked at James's face. How long ago did we adopt him? It had to be nearing thirty years This man had been my son for thirty long years. Guilt pierced my abdomen. Sitting in front of me was my real, flesh-and-blood son - a person with whom I could speak, whom I could hold in my arms. The baby in the Void was a dream not yet made flesh. She didn't exist - not yet - and it was possible she might never exist. Yet James did exist. He was real.

"You know that I love you, don't you?" I asked James in a quiet, trembling voice.

"Of course," he said. His lips downturned into a concerned frown and a wrinkle formed between his brows.

"I truly do think of you as my child," I continued. "I don't want you to believe - even for a second - that I don't love you with all my heart. It's just..."

"I know, Ma," he interrupted frankly. "You want children. It's different. This... entity, the King in Yellow. That's what he offered you, right? He said you and Pa could have children."

"Yes," I replied. "He told me he could teach me some very powerful magic if I were to... to find five people and bring them to him. For a chat. Just a chat, nothing more."

"I don't understand, Ma." James leaned forward, resting his cheek upon his curled fingers. "So he said he'd help you have a child. I always figured magic couldn't really do that."

I sighed. "It's complicated."

"I figured it was." He gestured for me to continue. "Explain it to me. I'll try to follow."

"You know your scripture, don't you, James?" I asked him. He nodded. "In the beginning, God separated the earth and the Skies from the Void. It's my theory that the energies of the Void are... leftovers, so to speak, from that grand act of Creation. The building blocks of life are all there in the Void, just swirling around formless through infinite vacant space. And we mages can give shape to that energy with the power of our wills and imagination."

James eyed me curiously. "Go on..."

"I am speaking in purely hypothetical terms, of course..." I gazed down at the hands in my lap. "But if there was a mage of sufficient skill, of sufficient understanding... unbound from her body and given access to that infinite arcane potential... wouldn't she be able to do as God once did?"

"And you think this Yellow King can teach you to do that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

James leveled his eyes at me. "What exactly did he say he could give you, Ma?"

"A world of my own," I said at length. "A world where everything I wanted could be mine with just... a snap of my fingers. James, I held your sister in my arms. She was so beautiful. I want you to meet her. I think you would love her just as much as I do."

"If he can just create a baby for you out of nothing," James asked, "Then why doesn't he just give it to you already?"

"It's powerful magic," I said. "Possibly the most powerful magic of all. It would take time to learn it... and great sacrifice."

"What kind of sacrifice, Ma?"

I hesitated because I didn't want to say it out loud. Instead, I pointed to myself. "This part of me..." I flexed my hands, watching the fingerbones move underneath my grey skin. "This part of me would have to die. I could never return here."

James fell silent. When I looked up at him, his eyes were wide and his lips pressed thin. His pale face gone fully moon-white.

"I would still be alive!" I told him quickly. "I would be more than alive! I'd be a God!" My face fell when I realized precisely how bizarre I must sound. "James, I promise I've not gone crazy..."

Silence lingered in the office for a moment more. James filled his chest up with air and let out a long sigh. "Ma, this is above my paygrade," he said at last. "I couldn't tell you what does and doesn't sound crazy, especially when it comes to magic. But I've read a lot of stories. And in those stories, when something or someone very powerful offers you everything you ever wanted, that's when you need to be the most cautious."

"I... I don't know if I want it yet," I admitted. "I'm scared."

"If nothing else, there are some questions I'd want to be answered first if I were you," James continued. "For example - say I were a Voidal God with the ability to create my own world. If I were content with what I'd created, why would I ever go outside of it? And if I wanted to teach that power to someone else, why wouldn't I just teach one of my own creations? I love you, Ma, but... why would he pick you? Why any Descendant?"

"How can I possibly understand anything from a God's eye perspective, James?" I replied. "I don't know. I feel like I'd be able to make a decision if I could just...talk to him one more time."

"Can he influence your decisions?"

I blanched. I thought of the color yellow and how it has been haunting me. From the walls. From the pages of my diary. From the very dress I wore on my body. "That's what I'm afraid of," I uttered quietly.

"If it eases your mind, Ma... I don't think he's completely brainwashed you," James reassured me. "It's a very hard decision indeed."

"If it were all true and I could make a perfect place for you and me and Icroth and your sister," I ventured, my voice quiet, "would you come with me?"

James didn't reply for a time. He drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'll be honest with you, Ma," he said at length. "I like to stick with what I know."

Slowly, I nodded. "I'm not sure I'd want to do it," I said, "if I couldn't bring you and your father along."

The clock ticked by in the background, counting the seconds as we sat across from one another. James toyed with a pencil on his desk, flicking it so that it rolled back and forth between his hands. "So is the new palette a tribute to him - the King?" my son probed, gesturing to my yellow ensemble. "How long have you been wearing that dress, Ma?"

I grimaced. "A few days."

"Have you been sleeping in it?"

"...Maybe."

"Well, it's starting to look grungy and not in an aesthetic sort of way," he pointed out. "That's not like you, Ma. You're one of the tidiest people I know."

"But I don't want to take it off..." I murmured, drawing my legs up into the chair and bringing my knees to my chest. "It makes me so happy."

"Be that as it may, you still need to launder it," James replied. "Let's get you home and changed into something fresher, aye?" He stood up from the desk and offered his hand to me.

I took it and rose to my feet. When we got home, I changed out of the yellow dress.

If creating a new world means leaving Icroth and James behind, I don't want to do it. I love them both too much to let them go. I wonder what the King would tell me if I brought up my concerns to him. It's possible I could just make a new Icroth and a new James, but I know they wouldn't be the same as the originals.

The King seemed lonely out there in the Void. Why else would he be so desperate to meet people and talk with them? He's all by himself - all-powerful but entirely alone. He called his realm a 'painting' when we met him. Perhaps he meant that literally. His realm is nothing but illusions - colors and forms inscribed onto a flat and featureless surface. Two-dimensional and unmoving. An imitation of life, nothing more.

Yet if he invited me back into his realm, I'm not sure if I could tell him no. Maybe he isn't powerful enough to create real life. But that's because he himself was never real. He's a stray bit of sentient voidal energy - as impermanent, flat, and dream-like as everything else in his realm.

As for me? He might not have the power to make things real and alive.

But I might.

 

Entry 135 –

1826

Spoiler

There's a list of people I'm thinking about taking to my new world, once I create it. Provided that I am successful, of course. My husband, no doubt. James, if he's willing to go. But I won't just be rescuing my family from the prison of their flesh - no. It depends on how many voidal travelers my magic can support, but I would like to take the entire NGS with me if possible. Aside from my immediate family, the person I want to take most is Celestine.

I don't see Celestine as often as I once did and I worry about her when she is away. We used to be so close - I wouldn't hesitate to call her my best friend - yet time has driven a wedge between the two of us. The fact of the matter is, Celestine is entering her twilight years. The winter of her life. Like summer changing to winter, everything about her has grown paler, knobbier, smaller. She's approaching her goth birthday. Age ran its fingers through her inky dark hair, coloring it a misty silver. Her face has become furrowed, folded, translucent - like melted candle wax. When I touch her hands, they feel like thin silk draped loose over a bony loom. No longer plump and firm as they were in her youth. Even her eyes are different. Celestine's drive and ambition used to glow from within her, like the light of a furnace. They've faded, somehow.

Age doesn't have to be an ugly or diminishing thing. It can bring with it great dignity - majesty, even. In the old days of Oren, few were privileged enough to earn crowns of grey. War, banditry, and illness claimed many lives before they'd even begun. Women, especially, perished frequently on the birthing bed. When I look back on my memories, I realize just how many of my female friends died before they even reached their thirties. I'd like for Celestine to be happy in her elder years, but time has smothered her inner fire and left her a muted version of herself. She can't travel as she once did.

I knew that I would lose Cellie one day. For decades, I've prepared myself for the eventuality of her death. Age is her curse - the curse of Horen. Just as my infertility is the curse of Malin. While we are trapped on this plane, we'll be forced to pay for the sins of our ancestors. Celestine will watch her body decay. I will remain a wasteland, my body bereft of the life it's meant to give. But now, everything's changed. We have a chance to break past these limitations - these curses which we did not bring upon ourselves. Just you wait, Cellie! I'm so excited to share this gift with you, my best friend!

The reason I write about Celestine is that we ran into each other today. I've been helping Otto prepare for an upcoming event in Karosgrad - a historical-themed ball. King Heinrik and his Queen wanted to throw a party in celebration of Haense's storied history. So, of course, they enlisted the NGS to assist them. Otto has placed busts of famous Haeseni men and women throughout the palace ballroom, along with pamphlets telling their stories. This morning, I stood in the vast, empty cavern of the ballroom arranging decor when I heard the echo of footsteps behind me.

Cellie stood in the arched entryway, dwarfed by the scale of the architecture around her. I never remembered her looking so small before. She cast a wan, thin-lipped smile upon the decorations before her gaze came to rest on me. "Tanith, it's been a while. Otto mentioned you'd be here."

"Cellie!" I sped over to hug her. "Goodness, I've missed you!" These days, Celestine spends more and more time away from home. She and Otto hardly ever see one another anymore. It might be wicked of me, but I can't help but wonder if Celestine's even met her grandchildren - Emma, Emmanuel, Karl, Juan Jose. "Where have you been?"

"I spent a few months south in the Druid's Grove," she told me. "My brother and his wife live down that way."

"You have a brother who's a druid?" I marveled.

Celestine laughed - perhaps a touch bitterly. "I have many, many siblings, Tanith," she said. "I can hardly keep track of them all."

I thought of Red (or, rather, Apollonia Lysistrata de Savin - her birth name), Cellie's mysterious mother kept alive and empowered by aengulic magic. Red and I met last at the Haelun'or Knox-O-Ween party decades ago. I remembered her being pregnant at the time. Two hundred and still having children. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a touch envious of Red and her brood. A human being who had managed to dodge the curse of mortality and still keep her fertility.

"I'm so happy to see you again, Cellie," I said. "Shall we go somewhere quiet and catch up?"

Celestine peered past me at the half-finished decor. "You're not too busy here?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. The decorations can wait. After all, the ball's not for a few weeks yet. We're just getting a head start." Linking arms with Celestine, I lead her out of the ballroom. "Will you be attending?"

Celestine frowned. We wandered together into the palace's main reception hall. A bust of King Heinrik stood near the door. Celestine grimaced at the king's stony visage. "I've been avoiding contact with the royals when I can," she said. "The rumors about Heinrik are... troubling, to say the least."

I nodded along. I'd heard the very same rumors. They said that Heinrik beat his wife and children, that he assaulted citizens in the streets. His hatred for Oren knew no match. In Oren, they treated him like a powder keg. One spark away from exploding. Granted, I have never met the man myself. I can only go on what I've heard, but... I can't help but notice Karosgrad looks a lot emptier these days. Vacant buildings, lonely avenues without a soul to walk them, and fewer patrons in the museum than ever.

"You should make an appearance," I told Cellie, "as the founder of the NGS if nothing else."

"I suppose I should, though I'm not looking forward to it. Say, Tanith," Celestine paused at the palace threshold. She looked toward me. "You know, Haense granted some land for a halfling settlement, just up the road from here. They're calling it Knoxville. Have you been?"

"Goodness, no," I said. "I've been so busy with the museum in Providence."

"Oh, Tanith, you'll love it!" Celestine grinned and I saw some of her old fire restored, if only for a moment. "It's not a long walk. Let's go there. We can find a spot in the halfling pub and catch up."

So we did just that. Celestine and I took the road north out of Karosgrad. After about an hour's walk, we crested a hill and beheld a darling little halfling village spread out beneath us. Gigantic flowers bigger than a house sprouted up from the earth, with spreading petals like the canopies of trees. "How can they ever grow such things up north?" I said, marveling at a nodding, yellow daisy casting shade like an umbrella. Two halflings picnicked underneath it on a checkered blanket.

"The halfling people are known for their green thumbs," Celestine commented on the gigantic flowers. "I wouldn't put any agricultural feat past them!"

We toured around the little village for a time, taking in the sight of the flowering fields and precious tiny burrows. We chatted with some locals, including a halfling maiden wearing a beautiful crown of sunflowers. One halfling man inquired about my dark skin and asked if I'd gotten dirty living in a cave. I didn't think he was trying to be malicious, for the halflings can be insular people. It's possible I was the first dark elf he'd ever met. We also encountered a Cloud Temple monk - an orc lady with long, dark hair shaved short on one side. It occurred to me that I'd never met a Cloud Temple monk before, though I'd heard many stories of them and how they can purportedly raise the dead.

After a while, though, the hour grew late and everyone returned to their homes. The halflings are peaceable people with no real concept of ownership or theft, so they keep their doors and businesses unlocked even after hours - which allowed us to keep wandering into the evening.

Celestine and I found a table in the corner of the halfling pub, where we drank delicious golden apple cider and talked late into the night.

"How long will you be staying in Karosgrad, Cellie?" I asked as I sipped my cider. By that point, we were both a little tipsy. I simply couldn't resist the beautiful amber drink the halflings kept sitting in front of me.

Celestine avoided my eye. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gazed down toward the table. "Not long, I think," she said after a moment's thought. "Haense isn't the same place I left behind. Eliza is busy with magic and politics. Otto's got his business. The NGS is doing fine without me. I'm not sure there's any place for me... in either Haense or Oren."

I took her hands in mine. "Cellie, you mustn't say that."

"I'm thinking of finding someplace far away, Tanith," she said quietly. "And... staying gone for a very long time."

Fear stole over me at that moment. My hands tightened around hers, holding them nearly in a vice grip. I looked into Cellie's aged face and a terrible thought occurred to me. I've raised many animals in my lifetime - livestock and pets. When an animal is sickly and soon to die, they sometimes retreat to some private and secret spot so they can perish alone and in peace. "Don't do it," I uttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Celestine lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Tanith..."

"I know what you are thinking, Cellie," I said to her. "You've gotten more and more solitary over the last few years. You're pulling away from everyone and... getting quieter. Less vibrant. It's like you're fading away."

For that, Celestine had no reply. She closed her eyes momentarily as if trying to shut out the truth of my words.

"I know you hate growing old," I continued on, scooting closer to her. "You can't adventure as you once did. You're afraid of losing your ability, of being confined to one place because of poor health and old age..."

Celestine forced a weary smile. "I'm an open book to you, Tanith."

"How long have we been friends?" I asked her.

She took a moment to calculate the number in her head. "It has to be over fifty years now."

"When you talk like this, about going away," I pressed on, "I worry, Cellie. I worry you're going to go someplace far distant from here and never come back. You must promise me you are not going off somewhere to die, Celestine."

Celestine bit down hard on her lip before replying. "I promise that's not the case, Tanith. I'll write to you," she said. "I would never do that to you or anyone else in my family."

"I have sometimes worried that's something you would do, Cellie... When you felt age begin to catch up with you," I admitted. "You would find somewhere dangerous and thrilling and go there - knowing well it would be the end of you."

Celestine smiled. "Certainly not, Tanith. I can't die yet. There are too many adventures left. Too many things still undiscovered," she said - and her words reassured me.

"There's an adventure I might want you to take with me." I lowered my voice. "In the future."

"And what's that?"

"I don't know when or where it will occur," I went on. "But it will be the grandest journey of all. For the both of us."

Celestine fell quiet and studied me from beneath the shaded brim of her hat. All I could do was smile at her and, after a moment, she chose to smile back. Light twinkled in her aged eyes. "Just tell me when and where," she said, "and I'll be there."

I leaned over and hugged her, gathering her close to me. My dear friend of over fifty years. "I knew you would understand, Cellie," I murmured against her silvery hair. "Don't give up yet. So many more beautiful things await us. More than you could even imagine."

In my mind, I've been painting dreamscapes wilder and more spectacular than anything found here on Almaris. Vistas of pink, gold, orange, purple - streaked together like swatches on a painter's palette. Once we're there, we'll explore them together just like in the old days. Once we've discovered everything (and we will, for we'll be ageless and tireless), I can just dream up new and finer places for us to go. A limitless realm, unbound, for me, for Icroth, for James, for Celestine, and for every person whom I have loved - past, present, future.

I think it's possible. I can do what the King in Yellow can't, because I have what he does not have. A soul.

 

Entry 136 –

1826

Spoiler

When you're a busy elf, it's sometimes hard to make time for your family. That's why Icroth and I make it a habit to eat meals together. We wake up in the mornings around the same time - early before the sun has fully risen. During that time, we have the house largely to ourselves. I wouldn't trade those quiet hours for anything in the world. I'll cook us breakfast while he reads or practices chess at the dinner table. We talk a little, but sometimes we just enjoy the companionable silence together.

This morning, I had the windows open and a cool, dewy breeze blew through the casement. Icroth wore his yellow coat, the one I bought him recently. He leaned over his chessboard - the one with the pieces he whittled by hand - and scratched his beard as he puzzled over a difficult position. I scooped the eggs out of our cast-iron skillet and plated them before I joined him at the dining table.

Icroth reset the pieces back into their starting positions. He picked up two pawns - one dark walnut, one pale maple - and concealed them in his fists. He offered them to me. I cut into my eggs and popped a bite in my mouth. "Right," I said. He opened his right palm, revealing the white maple piece. With a spin of the board, he set it so the white pieces were facing me. "You always beat me, though..."

"Indulge me, lari'leyu," he replied, smiling. That's his new nickname for me. He has been studying Elvish lately. I'm not sure what it means, but I trust that my husband wouldn't give me an insulting name. "You're better than you think you are."

I pushed my queen's pawn forward two squares. Icroth responded by jumping his king-side knight over his row of pawns. "You haven't been wearing the yellow dress these last few days," he observed as I slid another pawn forward beside my first. "Do you not like it anymore? It looked good on you."

"It needed to be laundered," I murmured. "It was getting dingy."

Icroth pushed his queen's pawn up one square and - one move later - brought his bishop to threaten my knight. Pinning my knight to the queen. I twirled a strand of hair around my finger as I observed the board. We had been playing a lot of games lately. Not just chess, but checkers, backgammon - anything we could get our hands on in the house. For some reason, we couldn't resist the siren call of the board and I wondered idly if it was yet another sign of the King in Yellow's influence over our minds. I knew he was present in the back of our heads, observing us through our eyes, pressing us to do certain things and behave in certain ways. To what extent did my actions belong to me? To what extent were they dictated by the King's sudden, strange presence in my life?

"Was it dingy? I didn't notice." Icroth cut into his eggs. The yolk leaked sunny, yellow goodness all over the plate. My eyes lingered on the yellow - I couldn't help but notice it - yet I soon returned my attention to the game. I mirrored his tactics on the board and attacked his knight with my bishop. "It's taking you a long time to launder it. You never let the clothes pile up."

I frowned. "I'm not letting them pile up."

Icroth slid another pawn forward and I took it with a pawn of my own. "It's a beautiful dress," he pressed me, claiming my knight with his bishop. "You ought to wear it again."

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. "Eliza and James are... concerned." My pawn slid forward and took his knight. "They don't understand."

"They don't need to," Icroth replied. "This is between us - you, most of all - and the King in Yellow."

"Maybe I should be more cautious. What if Eliza's right about him?" I frowned, noticing the triple-stack of pawns I'd created on the file. "Is it possible we've been fooled?"

"It's possible, dear," Icroth admitted, sliding his queen out to the left edge of the board. "But I can't blame you for wanting to know more. As a paladin, my own powers come from an extraplanar entity."

"Xan is an aengul of God," I said, pushing my own queen to the middle of the board.

"So he is," Icroth's gaze flickered up toward me as he cut another slice of egg. "But the Church of the Canon refuses to acknowledge him. And, in my experience, Xan is less concerned with justice and moral goodness - and more concerned with the intimate lives of his paladins." He chuckled and brought a pawn forward to threaten my queen. "That was the only time I have ever seen the Lord of Sunlight in person. He appeared not to scold his followers for their careless slaughter of innocents, but to grouse about their sexual proclivities."

I wrinkled my nose and moved my queen back to safety. "It's odd to me that Xan would be concerned about such a thing..."

Icroth shrugged. "I'd have preferred to discuss other things with the Lord of Sunlight, ti." He leapt his king's knight forward, positioning it to attack my pawn. "The King in Yellow, during the short time I spoke with him, impressed me greatly, however. I don't believe he and Xan are that different."

"Maybe not," I mused. When we spoke to the King in Yellow, Icroth asked him about Xan. The King described aenguls as a sort of magical middlemen, siphoning voidal energy and distributing it to their followers. I imagined Xan as a landlord - providing his clientele with power yet able to evict them at any time and for any reason. I thought of Icroth's leg, which so suddenly gave out on him. "So you don't think it's wrong for me to want to learn from the King?"

"No," Icroth replied as we danced our pieces across the board. Trading with one another. Pinning pieces together. Pushing and pulling, back and forth. The movement of the pieces entranced me. I'd already forgotten breakfast. "Magic and research are your trades, dear."

I smiled. "That's right, isn't it? In the end, I'm just doing my job."

"You're investigating as you ought," Icroth said. "Whether or not it leads to anything greater - that remains to be seen. But you won't know until you learn more."

The pieces on the board began to thin out. Icroth played beautifully, as always. He captured my two bishops but I took his queen. By the game's end, I was left with a rook, a queen, and a smattering of pawns - against two rooks on his side and a knight (as well as a few pawns). Eventually, though, his two rooks cornered my king and I found no way to escape.

"Checkmate," Icroth said with a slight smile. I sighed and flicked my king over. Reaching across the table, Icroth offered me a handshake. "You're getting better," he said. When I placed my hand in his, he brought it to his mouth for a kiss. In public, Icroth isn't very affectionate with me. But when it was just the two of us together like this, he was more willing to be sweet with me.

"What should I do about Eliza and James and..." I asked, "and everyone else who thinks I've gone crazy?"

"Keep doing what you're doing, lari'leyu," Icroth replied, knitting his fingers with mine. "See what the King has to offer. Learn what you can. Use your good sense and critical judgment. But don't let fear hold you back. And know I'm with you in all things."

At that, I felt a rush of love for my husband - and I told him so.

Will I even get to see the King again? I feel his presence over me, in the back of my mind. A warm and gentle weight, like the feeling of a cat sitting on your lap. I find myself swinging like a pendulum between an unspeakable fear and a strange euphoria. Enlightenment, a deeper understanding of the cosmos, a newfound knowledge of all that lays beyond the Veil. There's a terror that comes along with pulling back the curtain and seeing what lies behind. Yet is living in ignorance any better? With knowledge comes ability. Power.

What will it feel like, I wonder?

To become a God?

I've told several people about my encounter with the King. Reactions have varied. Eliza became angry. James and Juan Jose seemed uneasy. But a few people - people like me - have been very interested indeed. I spoke with Mr. Beryl Carrington in his office the other day. My story intrigued him. Kallian, too, couldn't resist the opportunity to speak with such a powerful entity. Even Quentin struck me as curious, perhaps even amenable.

That's three.

Two more.

 

Entry 137 –

1827

Spoiler

I have been crying myself to sleep lately. For months, I had been preaching the gospel of the King in Yellow - hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would listen to me. As the year wore on, though, I felt the King's presence retreating from within my mind. Shades of yellow slowly became less intense, less enticing. I used to dream daily of my beautiful daughter Kybele, waiting for me just on the other side of the Veil. Each night, I saw her in different forms - as an infant, a toddler, a teenager, even a grown woman. When she was able, we talked for hours - and she was every bit as intelligent, kind, and compassionate as I had hoped. She couldn't wait to meet Icroth and James. Yet with each passing night, the face of my baby grew fuzzier and more indistinct. Her voice became further and further away, until I lost her entirely.

I knew why the King was taking her from me. I hadn't succeeded. I couldn't even get one person to visit him, let alone five. At night, I clutched the bed sheets and wept with bitter frustration. I was so close! But the King had set his standards and I had failed to meet them.

This morning, I woke up and saw the yellow tablecloth that Icroth and I had spread over our bed. We stole it from downstairs and kept it secretly to ourselves, a special talisman just for us. The folds of the fabric once shimmered like liquid gold, but... today, it was just a square of table linen. Painful in its ordinariness. I sat in bed, my cheeks growing hot with anguish. Dull realizations pinged one by one against my head, like a scornful child throwing pebbles. Looking over at Icroth, I saw a resigned and weary expression on my husband's face. He knew - and I knew too.

We had been tricked. Played for fools. What had it gotten us? Nothing but damaged relationships with all our family and friends - relationships which now might be impossible to truly repair. Neither of us said anything. I got up out of bed and went downstairs to make us breakfast.

As I watched the yellow yolks sizzle in the pan, I thought about the sheer hubris I had allowed to take root in my heart. I've never called myself a Canonist since that school of thought didn't really exist when I was young. But I believe in God. I always have. Sometimes I wondered if God could hear me, so far away in the Seven Skies. Yet I never had the utter arrogance to think I could do what He did. To think I could replace Him! Even secular voidal mages know that our plane - whether created by happenstance or the hand of the divine - is exceptional in its cosmology. Nothing like us exists out there in the Void, only shadows and dreams. Kybele, the girl with whom I had spent hours talking each night, was a shadow and a dream. Only God could make her real. Did I really think of myself as equal to God? Even for a moment?

Shame burned my skin like a hot stove eye. I couldn't begin to articulate how regretful, how embarrassed, how deeply shaken I was by all that I had said, done, and thought. I couldn't even say it to Icroth, even though he had been through all the same things as me. We ate breakfast in silence. Though, when I packed my things to leave for work, my husband took me in his arms and hugged me for a very long time. “We have James and Eliza,” he said to me quietly. “And nobody can replace them.” I mutely nodded and left to go visit the museum in Providence.

The NGS has accomplished quite a lot in Providence lately. My encounter with the King in Yellow didn't rob me of my ability to work, thank goodness. Otto and I moved our 'Mysteries of Yong Ping' exhibit over to Providence and finally, finally opened the doors to the Imperial History Collection. That wing of the museum has been sealed off for years at this point - yet it took years to finally get it presentable. People have been asking why we cordoned off that exhibit. Miss Catherine - who has a rather quirky sense of humor - told people it was due to a ghost haunting. Well, that had the unintended effect of drawing quite a few amateur ghost hunters to the museum. Thankfully, everything is open now and no one will be trying to break into the closed-off exhibit while we're working anymore.

Since the Imperial History Exhibit and Yong Ping exhibits were both largely my handiwork, I've been spending time at the Providence museum and educating visitors about them. This morning, I wandered in and took my place behind the reception desk in the lobby. It struck me how very ordinary everything around me seemed - how real and grounded. The King's poison had been swimming through my veins for two long years at this point. I had forgotten what real and ordinary things looked like. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable and out of place. No matter what, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that I simply did not belong here. In Oren. In this world.

What was it that made me so susceptible to the King's influence? I looked at my hands. How long have I hated my own body? For years, I despised the fact that I was an elf. I spent hours fantasizing about waking up one day and finding myself in a human body. It was that gut-hatred that drove me to mutilate my own ears - in a desperate attempt to ape something of humanity.

Even after I made peace with my elven heritage, I still hated my own body for its infertility. In my heart, I know I was born to be a mother. Yet, by some cosmic contradiction, I ended up inhabiting a form that could never and would never support children.

And, just beyond the scope of my personal life, there's the matter of society at large. I have wondered if an elf can ever truly be Orenian. Oren is a human empire, built with human considerations in mind. Even Canonism centers on the importance of humans as God's chosen people. Elves have their place in the scripture as those who ultimately inherit the earth, but...

Even now, I can't help but think of how Oren has mistreated me. How the White Rose twisted me into hating my own kind and turning my face away from them as they died in droves. About Ostromir and how he never faced justice for anything he did to me. About how so many people still see me as a liar and a fraud.

When the King offered me a way out... how could I have said no?

Was it even possible to say no?

It worries me that, because of my long life and the pains I've endured, I am somehow more susceptible to these seductions than other people.

Eventually, visitors started coming into the museum. I spoke to a young 'ker man who was looking for a book on water evocation. His name was Iscesi Velu'Asath and we talked for quite a while about the nature of voidal magic. In the end, I offered to teach him if he had an interest. An enormous kha man - easily eight feet tall - came in and browsed our library for a time. A Father of the Canonist Church praised me for my efforts on the Imperial History Collection. He told me how thoroughly he enjoyed the exhibit. I realized it had been some time since I had just interacted with people normally - without viewing them as potential converts to the King's cause - and it felt nice.

Then, the doors opened and in walked Eliza and James. I rose to my feet immediately. “James, Eliza,” I said, dropping my eyes to the floor in shame. “I was wondering if... I could talk to you both in private. I feel like I owe you a very serious apology.”

My words seemed to catch Eliza off guard. “Oh, I...” she paused. “Of course.”

James, however, gave me one of his usual easy smiles. “After you, Ma,” he said, gesturing to the lift with a sweep of his arm.

I lead Eliza and James up to the offices on the third floor. “I... don't even know what to say,” I admitted to them. “I haven't been myself lately. For... quite a long time, in fact. I don't know what came over me. Or... rather, I do know what came over me, but... I wasn't strong enough to fight it off.”

Eliza sighed. “Auntie, it's... it's alright,” she reassured me. “I don't believe anyone could have fought off the King in Yellow. What came over you, that particular variety of magic - it's a power far beyond anything in this world. Nobody could have warded against it. Not me, not Sarrion, nor any mage living or dead.”

“Even so, I accept responsibility for everything I said and did,” I replied to Eliza and James. “I'm going to try to find all the people I spoke with while I was... under the influence... and tell them not to do what I did. I'm so sorry, both of you. I just hope you won't hold all this against me.”

“You weren't yourself, ma,” James said. “I'm just glad you listened to my advice.”

“You're not the only person to come under his sway either, Auntie,” Eliza informed me. “The arcane phenomena around Ando Alur have begun to intensify. Have you heard? The city's airborne now.”

I stared at her. “You mean it's flying?”

“Aye. Whatever tear is allowing the King to exert his influence there - it's getting bigger,” Eliza said. “Sarrion once taught me that voidal tears could be used to make floating islands. I'm worried about what's going on over there.”

“Well... I will be staying well-away from Ando Alur both now and in the future,” I replied. “I want nothing to do with that place... or the Saffron Herald or his master... ever again.” After a pause, I continued. “Thank you both for forgiving me. I... truly worried I'd damaged our relationships beyond repair.”

At that, Eliza hugged me. “I've known you since I was born, Auntie,” she told me. “I love you and of course I forgive you.”

James smiled. “Ditto for me.”

Ah, I adore them both so much!

Afterward, the three of us went back to Witten's End. Eliza had been holding off on my transfiguration lessons - and for good reason. Exposing me to more voidal magic while under the King's sway would have likely been dangerous. But now that I'm sober, we could continue what I'd been learning. James joined us as an observer. Toward the end of the lesson, he told me he'd been thinking about becoming a wizard as well. I offered right there, on the spot, to teach him anything at all he wanted to know.

There is a place in this world for me. It's here - with my family and the people I love. Even if I can't have biological children, I have James and I have Eliza. Even if society at large mistreats me, I'll have the NGS. I'll have my husband, my son, and my goddaughter. I have Cellie too - for as long as she's able to stay beside me.

This world might not be a perfect utopia - but it's real. That makes it better than any temporary voidal dream.

It's hard, though. I can't forget the face of the baby in the King's realm. Those visions seemed so real. When I held her in my arms, I felt her warmth, her weight, her breath. I wanted her so badly, it hurt.

But I can't let longing and despair get the better of me. My life here is a good one, after all.

 

Entry 138 –

1828

Spoiler

Is it safe for me to jump right back into magic after my encounter with the Yellow King? I'll admit it, I feel uneasy. While I am adamant that the Void is a morally neutral place - neither the sacred heights of Skies nor the fiery depths of the Nether - it's still filled with denizens of unknown motives and purposes. Voidal entities can be good, evil, or anywhere in between and so we must use extreme caution when dealing with them. Since meeting the King in Yellow, I have become more aware of these entities. Occasionally, when connecting my mind to the Void, I catch glimpses of them. Brief, but terrifying nonetheless. For the most part, the Void is as it always was - empty space populated only by wisps, lines, and rivers of immaterial energy. But now... sometimes in the darkness, I see other things. Things my limited mind is not quite capable of fully understanding.

Magic, to me, has always been an instinctual thing more than a matter of science. I taught myself magic hundreds of years ago. The exact nature of the Void remained a mystery to me. I knew it only as a reservoir of arcane power from which I could draw. I played the voidal energies like an amateur on a new instrument - finding the right notes by feel rather than through instruction. So now, even though I am a mage who has been practicing for hundreds of years, I still find myself lacking in certain specific sets of knowledge. I can't help but wonder if - if I knew more - I could have better resisted the King's temptations. Isn't it a bit embarrassing? That my godchild, whom I held in my arms mere moments after her birth, knows so much more about magic than I ever did?

It doesn't help that Eliza is secretive, much like her mother. Oftentimes, she'll refuse to share important information "for our safety." But if I had known there was a horror-worshipping cult in Ando Alur sooner, maybe I wouldn't have fallen prey to the Yellow King's invitations. I love Eliza, of course. But she frustrates me. She treats me like a child - as if I'm incapable of handling what information is given to me and using it to make my own choices. Rather, I should sit idly by in ignorance. But it's my ignorance that has been leading me continually into danger.

I've taken on two new magic students. The first is a dark elf gentleman by the name of Iscesi Velu'Asath. He lives in a place called the Stygian Hollow, a primarily dark elven settlement in Urguan. The second is my son, James! After years of living among mages, James has finally decided to take up the practice himself. I couldn't be more proud. We elves are drawn to magic more strongly than humans, I think, so it was only a matter of time before James joined in as well.

After my blunder with the King in Yellow, though... I worry I'm not as competent to teach as I thought I was. There are secrets about the Void that I don't know. Rarefied knowledge to which only a privileged few have access. If I'm going to bring my only son into this world of magic, I need to prepare him. He can't just go stumbling blindly through the dark like I did. Yet I fear that if I ask Eliza, she'd simply decline to tell me "for my own safety."

Eliza's mentor is a high elf named Sarrion. I will admit it, I don't like Sarrion. He's haughty and rude - and I think he encourages Eliza to keep things hidden from her family. Yet he possesses a power known as 'voidal eminence' - a connection to the Void stronger than many are privileged to possess. If Eliza won't give me the information I need to make good decisions and teach properly, maybe Sarrion will.

 

Entry 139 –

1828

Spoiler

James has himself a girlfriend!

Or, well... he's met a girl that he has an interest in getting to know better. I mustn't get ahead of myself with excitement now. The last thing I want to do is ruin things by rushing them along too fast. We're elves, after all. If anyone can afford to take things slowly, it's us!

Even so, I'm very pleased and I hope it works out well. Her name is Ferren and she is a dark elf. I've not met her yet, but James tells me she's very pretty and that she has an interest in magic - especially water evocation. Well! I can certainly help her in that department! Eliza recommended she seek me out for training, so I anticipate we'll be meeting each other quite soon.

Maybe I can use magic teaching as a way to get to know her better - especially if she's a potential daughter-in-law. In my secret heart of hearts, I always hoped James would settle down with a nice 'ker girl. Oh, how I'd love to have some grey-skinned grandchildren!

But I must slow down. I'm already thinking five, ten, twenty years in the future. One step at a time, Tanith! One step at a time! We'll get there when we get there, if we get there. If she comes to me for magic lessons, I must make sure to be very professional and not pushy. After all, we don't know anything about this girl yet. It's possible she's already got a fellow - or she might not be interested in fellows at all... We'll just have to wait and see. James is planning to ask her on a date soon. I've got my fingers crossed!

In other news, I am taking some time to focus on my magic studies. Eliza has been learning voidal translocation from me - and I am happy to report that she is very nearly done with her training. Of course, she's a natural at it. I wouldn't expect anything less from Eliza. I assigned her one last task before her teaching is complete. She'll have to teleport successfully across several miles and make her way safely to a point of her choosing. Doubtless, she'll succeed with flying colors. I have complete faith in her.

I'm hoping to begin magic lessons with James and Iscesi soon as well. Their connections to the Void ought to be stable, provided those two have been practicing as I instructed. Maybe Iscesi and I can meet in the Stygian Hollow next time. I am terribly curious to see how my fellow dark elves live.

I have some magic homework to do too! I'm a student myself, after all. Eliza and I have been learning transfiguration together. My task is to enchant an object with a minor spell. Seems easy enough, but I unfortunately don't have many ideas. Providence has recently experienced a rash of arsons, so I wonder if I could make something to assist the Fire Brigade. Maybe ice-enchanted clothing to protect them from heat - or a trinket that can summon a steady jet of water. I'll have to experiment and see what I can create.

As for the NGS, everything has been quiet lately. I am taking some time to recover from the Imperial History Exhibit. Putting that collection together sapped all my strength and creative energy for the time being. I'll begin a new research project soon after I've gotten my verve back.

I've been toying with the idea of 'Alcohols Around Almaris' as our next exhibit. Something fun to get people through the door. Activity at the Karosgrad museum has waned a great deal in recent years, so we need something to re-ignite the city's enthusiasm for the museum. If there's anything I know about Haensemen, it's that they love their vodka.

...

Is everything really back to normal?

All I have to do is flip back a few pages and - there's my diary entries written on bright yellow paper. It feels like a dream, like something that didn't really happen. Eliza and James forgave me and it seems as though we've all moved right along with our lives. I'm back to teaching and researching just like I was before with no changes. The person who wrote those yellow entries doesn't feel like me.

Yet - she was. I am. Those strange pages, filled with delusions about becoming a God, were written by my own hand. I feel as though I could slip back into that mindset at any time, just as easily as one might slip into a warm bath.

What happens if I encounter the Saffron Herald - that bizarre, betentacled atronach - a second time? We met by chance on the road. We could very well meet again. What will I do? Fight? Run away? Act as though nothing ever happened? I feel so unprepared to handle these scenarios. There's so many things I just don't know.

It might not matter anyway. Maybe life will just go back to normal - and my 'yellow phase' will recede quietly into the sands of memory.

Whenever I see those yellow pages, tucked in between the pink sheafs of my diary, I feel unsettled and uneasy. As though there's a deep, dark, impenetrable darkness inside of me that - if not carefully managed - will one day spill out and consume everything that I am.

Maybe the question of 'who is Tanith?' is more complicated than I ever dared to consider.

 

Entry 140 –

1828

Spoiler

For several years now, I've been living halfway between Oren and Haense. We moved out of our flat in Karosgrad decades ago because King Heinrik increased the tax on single-family homes and we could no longer afford it. Eliza and the other Wittenbachs vacated as well - mostly in response to a gruesome incident that took place some years back. King Heinrik caught his niece learning air evocation. In a fit of madness, he took her to the square and burned her alive as a witch with no trial. Naturally, that terrified both me and Eliza. Neither of us wanted to end up on a pyre! So we moved south to Oren, where Eliza built her manor house in the countryside.

Yet we still kept our NGS headquarters in Haense and I remained the Flagship Museum curator. Living in Oren and working in Haense has been awkward, even with access to magical portals that make travel a breeze. I'm a citizen of Oren, yet I work abroad in Haense. Thankfully, Oren and Haense are allies at present. Going back and forth requires no visa. But King Heinrik is an unstable and unpredictable force... and I know he hates Oren down to the very core of his soul. It might not be long before he tries to incite war.

I'll be honest, too. Most of my work efforts lately have been focused on the Providence Museum. We had to get it up and running with functional exhibits. When we first floated the idea of a Providence location years ago, we chose Mr. Beryl Carrington as the museum curator. While Mr. Carrington had the enthusiasm and the spirit, he lacked the follow-through. He simply couldn't get anything done. The Providence location sat empty and unused for years on end - forever under construction. Eventually, the Emperor got fed up with us and demanded we open the museum or face eviction. Well, that certainly lit a fire under our rears! Otto and I scrambled to get the museum ready to open - and we did it! Though without much - or, honestly, any - support from Mr. Carrington. The incident raised a lot of questions as to Mr. Carrington's ability as a curator.

So, I've been stuck in a very awkward position - acting as the de-facto curator for not just one museum but both of them. Mr. Carrington drops by the Providence museum occasionally, but he simply isn't putting in the effort to run it properly. Meanwhile, I hate to say it, but I've let the Karosgrad museum fall by the wayside. I started making the commute to Haense less and less often, allowing our Karosgrad museum to stand empty most days. Do I feel guilty for my negligence? Certainly! But I feel God's hand nudging me once more in the direction of Providence. I'm loathe to leave Oren behind again.

I'll admit it. Secretly, in my heart of hearts, I want to replace Mr. Carrington as the Providence Museum curator. That was my original job when I joined the NGS, after all - running and managing the Oren location. While I don't hate Haense, I have always considered myself Orenian and I want to come back full-time. Working on the Providence museum made me realize how deeply I missed my old home. Oren has changed a great deal over the last few centuries, but it will always be the place I grew up. My roots are here. My history is here. Lord, I want to stay!

There's also another matter that's making things even more awkward.

I received a very strange letter in the mail today. The stationary bore the insignia of the Emperor, John VIII himself. He's the son of Empress Anne I, who passed away due to breast cancer back in the year 1800. Breaking the wax seal on the outside, I withdrew the missive - wondering what on earth the Emperor wanted with little old me. Needless to say, I got quite the shock once I read it! It seems the Emperor has appointed me to serve as a judge in the Circuit Court - pending diet confirmation.

My first question was, of course... why me?! I'm honored, to be sure, but... I don't know the first thing about Orenian law! I've never been to law school, nor served in public office. I've never even been in a courtroom! I thought about running for the Commons once, but that was ages and ages ago! First and foremost, I am a scholar of history. History, while very important, doesn't have much to do with the law. So I sat there, staring at the letter in utter confusion. Shocked that the Emperor even knew I existed. Doubly shocked that he wanted me to mete out justice as a judge for the Empire!

Then... it occurred to me that this might be reparations in some form or another. This was the Emperor's way of apologizing for what I'd suffered at the hands of Ostromir. They were offering me a job as a token of compensation. I wasn't able to get justice for the crime Ostromir committed against me, but perhaps I could ensure that other people received their justice.

I wrote back to the Emperor and gratefully accepted his nomination. There are a few more steps before my nomination is confirmed. The House of Commons will need to confer on me and issue their approval. I've got two friends on the Commons, though - John Napier and my dear godchild Eliza. It's possible I might actually get through. That would make me the first elven judge in Orenian history.

My, there's something a little exciting about that, isn't there?

Becoming a judge means I have to reside full-time in Oren, however. No more working abroad in Haense. It wouldn't do for a public servant of the Empire to be jaunting back and forth across the northern border, especially with Haeseni foreign relations so tense.

So, here are my options.

My first option is to refuse the nomination and continue working abroad. I can't exactly do that, since I've already accepted. There's a chance I might not be approved by the diet, yes, but I'm relatively certain they'll accept me. If I'm not chosen as a judge, though, perhaps I'll go back to doing what I've been doing all along with no changes.

My second option is to speak with Otto and Mr. Carrington about potentially taking over as Providence curator. Alternatively, I could become an assistant curator under Mr. Carrington - but that would be a bit strange. I'm his superior as Chief of Research. Not to mention I've been with the NGS a lot longer than he has. I think this discussion is going to be uncomfortable no matter how it shakes out - and I'm not especially looking forward to it. I'd hate for Mr. Carrington to think I was trying to usurp him.

(Am I trying to usurp him...?)

And there's the matter of the Karosgrad museum. Who will run it? It's our headquarters! We can't simply abandon it. Yet I can't think of a single person qualified to curate it. Mr. Deveral or Mr. Frostbeard, maybe. Those two are the current best options. Yet Mr. Deveral is out traveling much of the time. And Mr. Frostbeard already has a lot on his plate as our head librarian... I don't know if he can manage much more than that.

What will we do? We're in a bind! I feel terrible for neglecting the Karosgrad museum, but... Oren is calling me home. Can I refuse that call? I don't think that I can.

 

Entry 141 –

1829

Spoiler

Today, I received an invitation by mail to visit Justice Olivier Halcourt at his house in Providence. He mentioned wanting to discuss my judicial appointment. Dear me, I must have spent at least half an hour standing in front of our wardrobe and agonizing over what to wear. Of course, I wanted to look professional! After all, I'm visiting the home of a Supreme Court Justice! Icroth sat on the bed and watched me for a time. At last, he pointed to the red dress that Mary Lucille gave me all those years ago in Helena. "Wear that one, dear. You look nice in that one."

"I worry it's gone out of style by now," I murmured, taking the dress off the hanger and holding it up to my body. "I first got this dress in... goodness, the 1770s? It's older than our marriage."

"It's a pretty dress and it fits you well," Icroth replied. "You're five hundred and fifty years old. If anyone's allowed to look old-fashioned, it's you."

I glared at him and slipped the dress on over my head. Icroth helped me fasten the trail of buttons down the back. He kissed my neck. "Don't be nervous," my husband reassured me. "You'll do fine."

Oh, Icroth! Saying that only made me more nervous!

Dressed up nicely with my hair in curls, I set out from Witten's End toward Providence. On the way there, I couldn't quiet the worries in my head. Would my shoes look scuffed and dirty from walking? Should I have caught a cab? What if my dress hem got wet in a puddle? The autumn rains had left their mark on the pitted, gravel-paved country roads. A cool, dry wind rustled the hedges lining the road and tousled my curls. I held onto my hat with a vice-grip so that it wouldn't blow away.

At the same time, I chided myself for getting so worked up! Whoever this Justice Halcourt was, I was sure he'd be a perfectly nice and pleasant man. He invited me. I wouldn't be showing up on his doorstep out of nowhere.

Passing through the gates of Providence, I double-checked the address on the letter. Little Ves 3. He sent along directions. First, head up Helvets Avenue toward the palace. Take a right at the cathedral and then a left down Selm Street. Providence really is a labyrinth... Ultimately, though, I found myself standing outside of Justice Halcourt's cheerful yellow manor. (It just happened to be yellow, mind... Not that I have any particular lasting fixation with that color...) I knocked on the door and announced myself.

Justice Halcourt himself opened the door. "Tanith, bonjour!" he greeted me. "Don't mind the paint fumes. We are in the midst of renovations. Please, do come in!" With that, he ushered me inside and lead me through the rooms towards his office. "Right this way! Pardon the dust. My housekeeper is on vacation while we fix up the place," he explained to me. "So I'm afraid the whole house is a terrible mess."

"I don't mind at all, sir," I told him. He opened the door to his office and motioned me through. At his prompting, I took a seat in the armchair. "You have a beautiful home. Thank you for having me."

"Merci," he responded cheerfully. Justice Halcourt was a youthful-looking fellow, despite verging on middle-age. He had a mop of dark hair and quick, inquisitive green eyes, as well as a sophisticated Auvergnian accent. "You should have seen it back when we first bought the place. Horrid!" Shuffling the papers on his desk, he leaned forward and peered at me. "I trust you know what our meeting today is about?"

"I have a good guess, sir," I replied, smiling a little. He reminded me of someone - an old friend. Those inquiring eyes brought back memories of a young Velwyn Ashford, not yet the High Pontiff. I decided I liked Justice Halcourt. "If I'm understanding correctly, the Emperor would like me to serve as a Circuit Court judge?"

"Precisely, madame," Justice Halcourt said with a decisive nod. "When His Imperial Majesty asked me for my recommendation, you were the first person who came to mind."

I blinked and pointed to myself. "Me?"

"Oui, madame." He leaned back in his office chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Many decades ago, I served in the MoJ under Solicitor-General Ophelia Van Wick. You published a letter during that time, detailing an incident that had occurred..." Pushing aside some pages on his desk, he withdrew a document I found very familiar. "I'm sure you recall this." He slid the document across the desk to me.

I picked it up and frowned. There are certain incidents that I've neglected to write about in my diary, simply because they are rather painful to recount. Back in 1803 - quite some time ago now - I received news that Padraig O'Rourke had passed away from lung cancer. Years of smoking cigars had caught up with him, it seemed. In his will, he directed his children to send me a letter. That letter contained Padraig's final confessions on his deathbed, where he admitted to his role in my kidnapping. Truthfully, I was overjoyed when I received it. At long last, proof positive that I'd been brutalized. No one could sweep the incident under the rug any longer. Or so I thought.

In my haste to clear my name, I published the letter publically. The letter contained many accurate details corroborating my story. Yet, as I discovered later, it also included a generous number of falsehoods and misdirections as well. Padraig was looking to clear his family's reputation, so he laid the blame for the kidnapping on others - his political enemies who weren't even involved. Even on his deathbed, Padraig lied and lied. So, rather than exonerating me, the letter made me look like even more of a liar. Publishing it resulted in nothing but humiliation and the further degradation of my image in the public eye. I was so embarrassed by what happened, I didn't even want to record it in my diary. In fact, that incident is what caused the long lapse in my entries. I knew that if I opened my diary again, I'd have to write down the details of Padraig's fake letter. I didn't want to do that.

Yet here was the letter in my hand. "Sir," I began, "I regret publishing this. I know a lot of what's written here is false now."

"Some parts false, oui." Justice Halcourt nodded along. "But other parts are true and verifiable. I believe those men hurt you, Madame Vursur. In fact, I know they did. I encouraged Solicitor-General van Wick to mount a proper investigation into the claims, but she declined. At the time, I thought it was crazy, but she preferred to sweep everything under the rug and deny you the justice you deserved. For that, I am deeply sorry."

"There's nothing you could have done, sir," I replied to him, placing the letter back on the desk.

"Back then, no." He leaned forward once more, peering at me with his quick eyes. "Today, however? I would like to offer you the opportunity to correct the Courts and make sure that injustice does not prevail in our great Empire. That is why I put your name forth for the nomination." He continued on - "When I heard you'd returned to Oren, I could scarcely believe it. I thought - the Empire hurt her, failed her, denied her justice. Yet she still returns to us despite it all. Your loyalties are clear, madame, and your actions tell me that you love Oren more than any of us."

I bowed my head in thanks to the gentleman. "You do me great honor, sir," I said quietly. "That incident with Count Carrion and Mr. O'Rourke did me a great injury. Not only physically, but mentally and spiritually. I really can't express how deeply I've missed my homeland."

"Well, we shall see to it that no one is driven from their homes by injustice ever again," Justice Halcourt confirmed for me. "I've made all the arrangements for you. If you are worried at all about your ability to serve as a Circuit Judge - don't spare it another thought. C'est bon, ne t’inquiète pas. The confirmation hearing will be painless."

"The thing is, sir," I ventured hesitatingly, "I don't have much in the way of a legal education."

"I'm already ten steps ahead of you, madame," Justice Halcourt chuckled. "I've prepared some educational materials for you. My colleague, Justice Turgon, and I will be serving as your mentors. You'll be receiving one of the finest legal educations in the Empire."

"What about my job?" I asked.

Justice Halcourt lifted a brow. "Your job?" he echoed back.

"You're aware I'm a curator with the Northern Geographical Society museum, yes?"

The gentleman nodded. "Oui, of course."

I fidgeted with my fingernails, picking at them absently. "I'm not the curator of the museum here in Providence. I'm actually the curator of the Karosgrad location. But... I suspect it wouldn't be good for an Orenian public servant to be working abroad in a foreign nation..."

"Oh, hm," Justice Halcourt hummed. "Is it possible to look into getting a transfer? The Providence museum surely needs a curator as well."

"Yes, sir, but I'm afraid the Providence museum already has a curator - Mr. Beryl Carrington," I answered. "I could speak with our President and see what can be done, though."

"See to it, then, if you would, madame," Justice Halcourt said. "But if a transfer isn't possible, then I doubt your curator duties would conflict with your judicial appointment. Academia and the law might overlap on occasion, but they are separate spheres." At that, he stood and crossed over to his bookshelf. From there, he selected a bevy of dusty-looking legal tomes. He sat them down on the desk in front of me. "While you're waiting on your confirmation, it would be wise to begin studying the Orenian Reformed Code - with particular attention to the Lex Criminalis and the sections pertaining to Legal Procedure. Later on, after your confirmation, we'll begin reviewing previous Supreme Court decisions. Orenian law operates on a concept called legal precedent - meaning that future decisions must take past decisions into account."

I transferred the books over into my lap. "Yes, sir, I understand."

Justice Halcourt smiled. "Très bon. I figured you for a quick study, Madame Vursur," he said. "Get started on that - and President Napier will doubtless be in touch with you about a confirmation hearing soon. There's no need to be frightened of it, mind. Just be pleasant and I'm sure they'll vote to confirm you - il est facile de faire."

That more or less wrapped up our meeting. He escorted me to the door - but not before inviting me and my family back for dinner once renovations were complete. I will certainly take him up on his offer! Justice Halcourt and the other members of the Supreme Court are my bosses now, so I must take care to develop a good relationship with them! I'll need to seek out this Justice Turgon soon too...

When I arrived home with my stack of books, Icroth let out a low whistle. "They gave you plenty of homework, I see," he quipped.

"I've spent fifty-six years reading and researching for the NGS," I replied with a grunt, setting the books down on the dinner table. "Compared to that, this should be a walk in the park!"

Icroth chuckled, leaning on the back of a chair. "The Right Honorable Judge Tanith Vursur." He stroked his beard as he imagined it. "Will they make you wear a powdered wig?"

"With my sensitive nose?" I laughed. "Goodness gracious, I hope not!" I'm surprised at how quickly this happened, but I'm happy too. At last, my reputation is starting to bounce back. I worried I'd be hated in Oren forever, yet here I am! A judge! At least, a potential judge. I'll have the ability to right wrongs throughout Oren and give justice to people just like me.

My relationship with Oren is a complicated one, filled with ups and downs. Periods of hope interspersed with despair. Equal parts happiness and sadness, war and peace, violence and healing. Little by little, though, I can make it better - if I keep working hard, hoping, and putting my faith in God. I don't have to escape to a new world, no. Not when I have the power to fix this one.

 

Entry 142 –

1829

Spoiler

Goodness gracious! I just finished my judicial confirmation hearing - and I daresay that was one of the most nerve-wracking events of my 500-year-long life! In the end, they confirmed me - but still! My heart is pounding so fast even now, hours later, as I write this.

On top of that, I think one of the representatives in the House of Commons might very well have bad intentions toward me... Though I can't say for sure.

Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions. Yet I can't help but be suspicious. The incident with Ostromir taught me to be on my guard all the time. You can never be too careful. Oren is full of untrustworthy people with ill intent. I won't go hurtling accusations at anyone, at least not publicly. But... well, suffice it to say, I'll be very wary going forward.

It all began a few days ago. Several members of the House reached out to me by post prior to my confirmation hearing. They wanted to introduce themselves and ask a few preliminary questions about me, my background, etcetera. I received letters from John Napier, Mr. Minuvas Melphestaus (an elf like me!), and one Heinrik Komnenos. Mr. Melphestaus congratulated me on my appointment and asked a few pertinent questions, which I answered. John gave me some information about how the confirmation hearing would proceed.

Mr. Komnenos's letter, however, was... a little unsettling.

His letter read - and I quote -

Dear Mrs. Vursur,

I know about your past. I would like to have a friendly chat prior to your confirmation hearing. Please meet with me privately at the Victory Pub in the basement below the NGS Museum.

Signed,

Magistrate and Representative

Heinrik Komnenos

My past? What on earth did he mean by that? I have a very long past, after all - over half a millennia. The more I read over his letter, the more uneasy I felt about it. The last time I met a man alone for a 'friendly chat' didn't exactly turn out so well. Flashbacks of the Orlov house basement, of Padraig O'Rourke, and of Ostromir Carrion tormented my sleep. I've still not been able to fully reclaim my memories, but I have flashes here and there that disturb me. Naturally, I did not want to go into any more dark basements with any more strange men. Was I being overly paranoid? Perhaps, but you can't blame me for wanting to protect myself! Politely, I wrote a letter back to Mr. Komnenos declining his invitation. Any questions he had, he could ask them at my confirmation hearing.

So, nervously, I awaited the day of my hearing. I barely slept a wink the night before. Instead, I sat awake reviewing the ORC and old Supreme Court decisions. Justice Halcourt assured me that the confirmation hearing would be painless - but I'm a worrier by nature. Finally, at three o'clock in the morning, Icroth grumbled at me to shut off the light and go to bed. I laid my head down on the pillow and reviewed the laws in my head. The last thing I wanted was to go before the House and humiliate myself with a lack of knowledge.

This morning, I got up having enjoyed very little sleep. Icroth made me coffee and helped me pick out a dress. Once I was dressed, we went down to the garden and picked out a fresh rose for my hair. "I can't believe you're going to be judge," Icroth sniffed, taking a pair of scissors and cutting the stem.

I frowned at him. "You don't sound like you approve."

"I just don't trust these human institutions," he replied, straightening his back with the bloom in hand. He twirled the stem between his fingers. "The bureaucracy. The politics. Nobody enacts real justice by pushing papers."

"I don't know what the alternative is," I said. "The system is what is it is... and we've got to work inside of it."

"Or change it," Icroth said flatly. "Or if you can't change it, opt out."

"That's easier said than done, dear," I sighed, folding my arms and peering down at the dirt. "I think I could really do some good as a judge. If I can stop just one person from suffering like I did... then it's worth it to me."

Icroth sighed. "You're a good woman, Tanith." He cut the thorns off the rose stem and slipped the bloom into my hair. "I am proud of you and I support you. I hope it goes well today. Just don't let those paper-pushers and clout-chasers and bureaucrats change what's in your heart. I love you."

"I love you too." With that, I kissed him goodbye and set out on my way.

I've made the walk from Witten's End to Providence many times now. They say that bandits love to patrol the road to Providence, but I've never encountered trouble. Instead, I walked alone with my thoughts.

From the gates of Providence, I made my way toward the State building. It houses the Commons, the courthouse, and the House of Lords too. I arrived to find the Commons already locked in a heated debate. It seems my hearing was the second item on the docket. The first? An inquiry into Solicitor-General Galbraith's conduct as Minister of Justice. The doorman asked me to remain outside until I was called. So I took a seat on the nearby bench and waited.

And waited... and waited...

The halls outside of the senate chamber had the feeling of a tomb - all marble and cold. Hours ticked by and I began to drift off. At long last, though, the doors flew open and a red-faced Solicitor-General marched out. He blew past me in a huff. I assume the inquiry did not go as well as he'd hoped. What did that bode for me, I wondered?

Moments later, the doorman motioned for me to enter the senate chamber. Taking a deep breath, I pushed past the oak doors and into my confirmation hearing.

A dozen unfamiliar faces peered down at me from the pews. John Napier, Edward's son, sat before me in the President's seat. It struck me just how much he looked like his father, only taller and wider. He motioned me forward. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Vursur!" John greeted me kindly. He smiled a tusky, half-orcish smile. "We have invited you here to speak of, and vote on the subject of your Confirmation as Court Justice."

"Thank you for your consideration," I said to the sea of faces. A ripple of murmur passed through the great hall. I wondered what they thought of me, with my ash-grey skin, red eyes, and long pink hair. Was I the first dark elf to set foot in this room? Surely not - and yet it felt like unfamiliar territory for my kind. There was only one other elf in the vast room - Mr. Melphestaus, a high elf with a face as pale as milk.

"Should anyone have questions for Mrs. Vursur, please raise your hand," John solicited the room. Immediately, three hands shot into the air.

The first to speak was Anton d'Amato-Orlov. "Mrs. Vursur," he began, breaking the still silence of the room. "Do you believe that you have the practical experience necessary to be a Justice of the Circuit Court?"

"Ah..." I blanched. Nervousness welled up inside me and escaped from my mouth as a small, uncomfortable giggle. "Well, I'll admit that this is likely my major weakness as a candidate for the judiciary. I do not have any formal legal education. I've never been a lawyer nor... even really been in a courtroom!"

Mr. Melphestaus interjected - "Madam Vursur," he said, standing up. "God save the Emperor. It is a pleasure to meet you. You are perhaps one of the oldest living Imperial Citizens in all of Almaris, here in the flesh. But, despite your status as a living historical treasure, I cannot overlook your complete lack of legal education. I feel that I can only vote to affirm you should you declare your intent to pursue a valid and accredited legal degree. Would you be willing to do so?"

"I would be absolutely willing to pursue all avenues of legal accreditation, sir," I reassured Mr. Melphestaus. "I'm always happy to expand my knowledge."

With that, Mr. Melphestaus nodded and resumed his seat. That left only one hand in the air - and it belonged to Heinrik Komnenos. John acknowledged Mr. Komnenos with a nod. The aged and silver-haired representative leaned on his cane as he stood up. "Mrs. Vursur," he grumbled beneath a thick and wooly beard. "Considering the spottiness of your past... what makes you think you are worthy at all to serve in the courts of this Empire?"

I stared at him from across the vast hall. "My... past?" I echoed back, uncertain. "What do you mean, sir?"

"The whole ordeal involving several respected gentlemen of Oren," replied Mr. Komnenos. "You accused several noblemen of good standing... then ran off abroad to Haense. Now you've come back - and you expect this assembly to make you a judge?"

John banged his gavel. It sounded like a clap of thunder in the enormous room. "The matter concerning Mrs. Vursur and Ostromir Carrion has been closed," he bellowed. "That is all, Mr. Komnenos. Thank you."

"Hush and let the woman answer," Mr. Komnenos barked in return.

"I'll ask you to take a seat, Mr. Komnenos," John growled. For a moment, I could see the orcish side of him coming out.

I piped up. "I don't mind addressing his question."

John turned toward me in surprise. He cleared his throat. "Very well, Mrs. Vursur. Go right ahead."

"I, um..." My gaze dropped to the floor. I looped a strand of hair between my thumb and forefinger. "I don't think being the victim of a violent crime should disqualify me from serving on the court."

My voice grew in strength as I went on. "I was kidnapped by several unscrupulous individuals, subjected to torture, and forced to flee the country for both my safety and my family's safety. Whether or not you believe my side of the story or Ostromir's... that doesn't matter to me."

I raised my eyes to meet Mr. Komnenos's. "I want to be a judge to ensure that no other good Orenian citizens are driven from their homes by such miscarriages of justice."

At that, John nodded. "Let us motion to vote," he said. "As President, I vote aye."

Anton d'Amato-Orlov raised a hand. "I vote aye."

"Melphestaus, I abstain."

Mr. Komnenos peered down at me with beady eyes, half-hidden by his shaggy mop of white hair. "Komnenos votes nay."

A lady's voice spoke up from one of the back rows. "Hartcold-Rourke. I vote aye."

John gathered up a pile of papers in front of him. "I have the absentee ballots here." He cleared his throat. "Wittenbach votes aye. FitzPeter, aye. Rosius, aye. Safe to say that the ayes have it. Congratulations, Mrs. Vursur! Or should I say - Justice Vursur?"

Applause cascaded through the senate chamber. Everyone clapped, except for Mr. Komnenos. He glowered at me from his seat in the pew. I tried to ignore him, but I felt a creeping dread crawling up my spine. What had I done to deserve this man's ire? For some reason, he'd taken the side of Ostromir Carrion and Padraig O'Rourke, the two men who stole me off the street and assaulted me. He wasn't involved at all in the incident, at least as far as I knew. Why on earth had he decided, apropos of nothing, to become my enemy?

With that, John dismissed the representatives. A few of them came to congratulate me, including Mr. Melphestaus and Ms. Hartcold-O'Rourke. As I accepted their good wishes, I noticed Mr. Komnenos hovering on the edge of the group. When the others departed, he approached me - hobbling on his cane.

"We never got a chance to meet at my pub," he said. "Why not join me for a drink, Mrs. Vursur? A toast to your success."

My eyes darted toward John, who was tidying up his seat. "I'd love to," I said. "Can John come along?"

Mr. Komnenos shook his head. "I would rather a more private tête-à-tête. Just you and me."

My blood ran cold. "Er..." I didn't want to appear impolite. "Maybe a more public location," I suggested. "How about the Novellen?"

"Are you scared of me?" Mr. Komnenos pressed, leaning forward on his cane. His eyes shone with a wicked sort of delight. "You've got nothing to fear from an old man, Mrs. Vursur."

John let out a disgusted noise. "Good Lord, Heinrik," He swore, picking up his papers and coming to stand beside me. "Have a bit of bloody grace and sense."

Komnenos held up his hands in surrender. "Apologies," he grunted before limping away with the aid of his cane. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vursur."

Watching him exit the room, I felt my shoulders relax. I hadn't realized just how tense I was. My chest deflated as I let out a sigh of relief. John patted me on the back. "Don't let him frighten you," he told me - and winked. "Justice Vursur."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling at that. "Ehehe! Thank you!"

It ought to be a happy and exciting day. The House confirmed me as a circuit judge - the first elven circuit judge in the history of the Empire. Isn't that something special? Yet I'm having a hard time celebrating.

Why? Why do people still despise me this way? The incident with Ostromir and Padraig happened over 40 years ago now. In the meantime, generations of children have grown up and reached adulthood. I thought that, by now, the people would have forgotten. Yet it still haunts me. All I ever did was ask for justice. What else was I supposed to do? Should I have just kept quiet? Allowed Ostromir and his goons to brutalize me?

No.

I won't allow anyone to harm me. Long ago, I was passive and compliant in the face of injustice. But not anymore. Let them do their worst. No matter what, I won't be silent.

 

Entry 143 –

1830

Spoiler

My judicial confirmation is contingent upon me earning a law degree. Justice Halcourt said that he could fast-track me, though. All I really need to do is pass the bar exam and I'll be ready to go! The exam will require quite a lot of study, though, so I've been hitting the books fairly hard lately. Icroth has been helping me too. We'll sit for hours at the kitchen table while he drills me on obscure laws and old Supreme Court decisions. Sometimes he'll scoff under his breath at some of the more particular or (in his opinion) nonsensical laws. Yet nevertheless, he's remained steadfastly supportive even if he doesn't necessarily approve. Every day, he reminds me that I made a good choice marrying him.

Justice Halcourt gave me my first test a few days ago. We met for coffee at the Paddy's Pints, which is just down the road from the judicial building. He slid me a folio with a few documents inside of it. "This one will be easy, Madame Vursur," he assured me. "Your first decision as a judge. What will it be?"

I opened the folio and found a few loose sheets of paper within. On top was a petition written to the judiciary by House Draskovic, an Orenian noble family. They were just recently elevated to the peerage. Skimming the letter, I felt my forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Their patriarch has been missing for over a decade," I repeated to Justice Halcourt. "So they want to declare him legally dead and pass his titles down to his living brother."

Judge Halcourt nodded. "Precisely, madame. Such things are not so unusual."

"But..." My hand moved over to the other document in the folio. An Imperial seal, eye-catching with its red and white stripes, marked the top of the page. "These are the letters from Emperor Joseph II granting them their barony and titles... and he specifically says that the title is non-hereditary. The title reverts back to the Crown upon the patriarch's death."

"A conundrum indeed, madame. Well, go on," Justice Halcourt prompted me. "What should we do about this?"

"His brother can't inherit the barony," I replied. "The Imperial letters say so."

Justice Halcourt lifted his coffee to his lips and took a sip. "Oui, madame, and that is the judgment you must hand down to them."

A cold chill went down my spine suddenly as I realized what I had to do. "I have to take away their barony?" I murmured, reading the Imperial letters over once more. "Is this going to kick them out of their home? I don't want to be responsible for making a family homeless...!"

Justice Halcourt shook his head. "Non, non, madam," he reassured me. "They won't be evicted, but they will lose their claim to the peerage. Ne vous inquiétez pas - no one will be deprived of their home."

I frowned. "Won't they be very cross about this, though?"

"Oui," Justice Halcourt said. "Yet it is our responsibility to enact the law as it is written, regardless of how anyone feels about it. The law is the law and it applies to all men. And women. And elves too." He chuckled and took another sip of coffee. "Sometimes we will be called upon to make unpopular decisions - or decisions that make people angry. We must make them anyway."

Not too long ago, Justice Halcourt had to make a very unpopular judgment indeed. I recalled him telling me about it. He told me the story of an elderly and somewhat senile old Dame - Dame Viktoriya Tsescar - who was nevertheless very popular and beloved as a war hero. She'd won great victories in the Sutican War and the Inferi Incursion. Yet the Dame ran afoul of some controversy when she negligently placed a deadly weapon in the hands of a child. That child then used the weapon to injure a Haeseni tourist, nearly causing an international incident.

How, then, would the courts handle this famed and beloved war hero's crime? The courts had no choice but to prosecute the Dame, despite her fame and popularity. If they let her go, it might have sparked war with Haense. Justice Halcourt told me that the Haense foreign dignaties were calling for the Dame's prompt execution. Dame Viktoriya ended up banished from Oren for life. Many people came out to protest the judgment, decrying it as overly harsh, but Justice Halcourt held firm. I admired that about him. It would probably be easy to capitulate to the mob. Yet if he let Dame Viktoriya go unpunished, it might mean terrible things for Oren later down the road.

I realized then - Justice Halcourt was giving me a test. Truth be told, I've become very sensitive about my reputation since the incident with Ostromir. I've had some harassment from the Carrion and O'Rourke families since I returned to Oren. I wanted to become a judge to ensure justice for everyone, yes, but I also hoped to rehabilitate my reputation.

Judge Halcourt wanted to see if I could make the unpopular decision. Which was more important - upholding the law? Or placating a group of powerful nobles?

Well...

I'd certainly made the unpopular decision before. A more cowardly version of me would have never pursued justice against Ostromir. She would have just let him get away with it. She wouldn't have dared rock the boat, lest she risk make anyone upset with her.

I used to be that cowardly dark elf who avoided rocking the boat. That was me when I served the White Rose.

Dear diary, I'll let you guess what judgment I decided to make on the Draskovic case. I think it was the right one. My hope is that I passed Justice Halcourt's test with flying colors.

In other news, I resigned from my position as Karosgrad curator. I'm living and working in Oren full time now. I'm the assistant curator at the Providence Museum under Mr. Beryl Carrington. It feels a little strange to be back, but I like it. We've begun developing a new Adunian-themed exhibit for the museum too! There's unfortunately been an outbreak in anti-Adunian racism recently, so the NGS is doing our part to push back against it.

My magic students are progressing nicely with their training too. I've got three now - James, Iscesi, and a young nobleman named Simon Bastille d'Arkent. They're all still quite new. I haven't taught them much yet, but they're all proceeding along apace. The thing I love best about teaching magic is how many new and different people I meet along the way. Who would have thought I'd include a dark elf from the Stygian Hollow and an Orenian nobleman both among my students? And my lovely son too, of course!

 

Following Entry 143, Tanith Vursur and her husband Icroth Vursur disappeared from Oren. Friends suspected that her disappearance had something to do with the King in Yellow, though nothing was ever confirmed. Her best friend, Celestine Herbert-Wittenbach, set out in search of her friend and subsequently disappeared as well. 

 

Dr. Vursur and her husband have since resurfaced in the Empire of Man. She currently works and resides at the NGS Flagship Museum outside of Rittersburg. When asked about her centuries-long disappearance, however, she has little to say. "I prefer not to talk about it," quote Dr. Vursur. "It was a very difficult time in my life. What matters is that I'm here now and happy to be back."

 

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