Dearest Maebh the Magnificent,
You were just a dream.
Nothing you do matters. The credit and fame goes to the political elite and aristocratic oligarchs, and your words and deeds are dust in the wind, the chaff dissipated after the harvest.
No seeds of freedom are planted in chauvinist soil, and inspiration dies.
Ice
Your only rivers run cold
These village lights
They shine as silver and gold
Dug from the night
Your eyes as black as coal
And if the mountains should crumble
Or disappear into the sea
Not a tear, no not I.
I can't remember what happened. Not exactly. There had been fire - fire from El's magic, fire from flaming shadows, fire… from a crystal. Scáthfile ripping into a body, blood everywhere.
Blood… seas of congealed blood. I was wading through it, past vacant stares of my family, no recognition in their eyes, even my Daideó…
But no, that was the nightmare after. It's so fuzzy, I know there was more.
I can't remember killing the Necromancer - he was there, and tossed the heads of my elven friends, and there was some sort of crystal, and an altar? There was an illusion that I Dispelled. We killed Martin, and the halfling, and then - silence.
Even the roaring fire went out.
That's all I can recall - it's hard to concentrate on it. I've had nightmares, and somehow El, Firia, and I found ourselves in a small town - Beton Chin. We had passed through on our way up briefly, but everything is different now.
We managed to get back on our feet, paid for our rooms at the inn by helping out, but my heart isn't in my music.
Sharn is missing, and… I don't know. The people here are rude, and they don't like magic - they're afraid of El. They probably should be. Now that the magical interference has cleared, I'm sure she could fry them all. Speaking of frying…
This afternoon we decided to leave and head back to the capital, see what's left of our reputation and money and the inn we had purchased with our hard work last year - or whenever…
As we gathered our meagre supplies, cries broke out in the streets - a massive snake decided to interrupt our quiet exit. We were going to leave when it started swallowing some innocent kid - so I reluctantly started my augmentation rhythm and got everyone's blood pumping.
El set it on fire, and Firia jumped in with katars and sliced the kid free.
I thought I was fine, when there was an explosion behind me, and heat. Shadow creatures jumped me from behind, slicing me with a talon. I don't think they were the same as the shadow people we fought before…
I screamed a curse to freeze one, and then Scáthfile came to my rescue - I was grateful to see him again; he must have been hiding in the surrounding forest. When he was finished with it, there was nothing left but a pile of dust.
When the chaos ended, the townsfolk ran us out of town - though they were kind of grateful that their kids weren't all eaten. How reasonable…
So we left town and are camped out in the forest for the night, hopefully safe for the present.
The interactions we've had in town have been strange - we're told that Prince Tog died of old age long ago (oh, and orcs are somehow integrated into society here - a timid blacksmith and a freaking orcish priest of Valour - I don't even know how that works!), and the townsfolk talk about King Gervaisen. And there are strange boulders that have clearly fallen on top of buildings - long ago.
They weren't there when we passed through.
Firia tracked down a history book, which spoke of King Gerald in the past tense, and peace was brokered between orcs and humans at Soutley Fort… 30 years ago.
No mention of the brave women who warned everyone, our epic shortcut through the swamp, the wall we built by ourselves, and the myriad heroic deeds we performed so selflessly.
Hardly surprising, I suppose. But extremely disappointing.
There's one interesting detail I forgot - the three of us discovered pendants around our necks after the battle - I don't think they were there before, but my memory is so foggy I can't know for sure. It's a crystal, in the shape of a talon, and feels… peaceful. Something about it pulls at me. It's been a hard day of processing. My life feels a bit empty. I don't want to admit it, but if 30 years have passed… my family, and all those who know me, may be… gone.
I don't want to think about it. But there's a glimmer of… something. As we left town this evening, I thought I heard a voice - in the wind? In my head?
“But I have not forgotten you.”
I have a song in my head. I wrote most of it at the top.
Stay in this time
Stay tonight in a lie…
Come on take me away
Come on take me away
Come on take me home
Home again…
Walk on by
Walk on through
Walk until you run
And don't look back
For here I am
Goodbye, my idealistic self;
~Maebh the Lost
