Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

[ENTRY THIRTY-THREE]

The day started out as a very pleasant mix of poetry, and balancing. Today I had to balance Rocky and mask. Tricky enough, but that they hate each other and I need them both alive for various reasons. Why does male testosterone and ego always have to make my tasks difficult? Seems like every problem I have -ever- had can be blamed totally on a man either thinking with his prick or his pride. Bloody bastards.

Still peace was upheld for a time, and the poetry was pleasant. I offered more verses for gems from Rocky. I finally came up with one suited to the mandarin garnet he had given me nearly a tenday ago. So as it stands, he has not presented me with a shiny bit of loveliness that I could not give him a relatively lovely rhyme for. This pleases me.



The words fell into place easily as I leaned back on the bench and studied the stars. The quiet peace was unsettled by a whisper in my ear.

‘Thinking? Come now, you know what to do with them.’

‘You certainly do. Must we really have this argument now?’

‘Why not burn them? Or is that saved for family only?’

I wanted to laugh.

‘You had the choice to leave. You merely lacked the will.’

‘As do you. Look at them. Quite a pair of fools, no?’

I looked to Rocky and Mask. How delicately I stood the two of them in balance for my own sake. The true challenge was that one misplaced word from the other would ruin the very fragile balance. I needed them both. Rocky… was a security of sorts.

Mask… he was more… well in truth, sis… He is something of a dangerous past time. He could have uses, but he could just as easily turn against me. It is the challenge to skill and wit that he presents. I know. I said he would not grace our conversations, Seraphim… but for you to understand the scope of the anger that churns… and the very real worry… you must understand his part in it. Mother would yet prove her point. She still tugs the strings… and we still follow.

‘Men are all fools, mother… you taught me that. Fools and tools.’

Almost on cue… Rocky stood, and moved to sit on the ground near where I rested. I frowned. He isn’t a bad sort over all… And I would break his heart. Though as mother whispered in my ear, I was afraid it would be much sooner than I had planned.

‘And here he comes.’

Dutiful, loyal to a gods-be-damned fault.

‘You certainly did a good job with him, didn't you?’

‘Jealous that some one actually gives a damn about me, mother?’

‘Oh, I'm sure they give a damn about you.’

She giggled, salaciously. Her mirth and implication like acid to an already raw wound.

‘More to it than a tumble, mother. They have many uses. Not that you would know.’

‘Are you certain of that, little Songbird? Aren't you the one that thinks they are good for only one thing?’

‘They are tools… I did not adopt your narrow mindedness, mother. Tools. But hardly anything that requires they touch me. More to it…’

I smirked. Then I retorted aloud… rhyme. My connection to who I am apart from who she wants me to be. Just like you said, sis.
‘Dreams? You are still playing the same games, but are so amateurish about them. Come… burn him.’

‘I meant my -sister-. Not the pile of rocks. I could break his heart… but I would lose a useful tool. I can't afford to replace it. My time has become precious.’

He smiles at me then, genuinely kind smile… How easy it would be to break him. Not without cause though. Not yet… not while he was useful. And certainly not on her terms. Were it possible, I would say I hated my mother more than all the men in the world… I did. I despised them all. Not nearly as much as I -hated- her. And she didn’t even have the graces to rot properly in the Hells.

‘One you can't afford to replace? Are you losing your touch? And I didn't say break his heart, I said burn him… burning stone would be a unique turn for you.’

Yes. Hate her. Losing my touch? Hardly. There just wasn’t time…

‘I don't want to burn him. He’s more useful as he is. And no not losing my touch… I am just picky these days…‘

‘Please. You have an overblown sense of your own worth.’

But I didn’t. I wasn’t just her dutiful little harlot, and I wouldn’t be. Ever again.

‘Like you care what I think? Like it really matters?'

Rocky stood and moved away.

‘I could say the same. Well then, if you won't, I will.’

At the same time:

‘See… Happy? You chased him off. -Wench-. Leave him alone.’

‘No.’

Rocky screamed… Even though he had moved from my line of sight, I saw the glow of the fames, and anger churned. She was going to force my hand in this.

"Mother! Damn you! Leave him be!"

I yelled as I rounded the wagons, and he collapsed.

‘You stupid Lotus-festering harlot.’

‘Stupid? Me?’

I knew what she meant. How stupid was -I- for thinking I could crawl from the rot she had left me in… and make something better of myself. But she was wrong. It was her failing for thinking I could not. I would.

"Fine! I'll send him away is that what you want? ME, all to yourself?!"

‘Yes… that would do nicely.’

The emotion all but gone… there was only contempt and disdain in her tone. None the less, we had attracted quite a crowd… So I needed to play along lest I get in more trouble… with no way to get out of it. The others who had been trying to put out the flames… Now looked on in shock, my own exclamations only added to the confusion as I told Rocky to go to the temple.

‘Hurry him along, Songbird…’

He burst into flames again.

‘He can't leave if you won't let him move!!’

"Gods damn it… get him out of here!"

I screamed at those near by.

"Get him to a temple!"

‘I'll go! Stupid wench! -I'll- go then! If you won't let him leave?!’

She laughed, Seraphim… I stalked to the road. I stopped long enough to assure the female guard I wasn’t calling her a wench, and make sure they knew not to let Rocky drown. I moved southward, I called on my skills to cloak me and I moved swiftly away, Praying to the Lady of Illusions that she could not torment the rest of them if I wandered too far from her grasp.

‘But you insulted me…’

[color=#BF0000]‘I -insulted- YOU?! Bloody Hells! Fine!! I am sorry.’[/color]

"Gods don’t throw him in the damned river. Not only will it not do any good… but he’ll drown."

I stopped and waited.

‘Now this… this is absolutely… Delicious…’

‘-Can I go now?-’

‘Yes. Run, -Scarlett-… that is the name you like, isn't it?’

‘Not running… mother. Just trying to make you -happy-.’

‘Why now? You never tried before.’

‘Every gods damned thing I did until you bloody died was to make you happy at your whim! Wasn't good enough for you. Nothing ever was…’

‘Maybe there is a reason for that, Songbird. Maybe you are simply worthless…’

I felt her kiss my ear and her voice faded away as she spoke. I knew better than to stand around, or to back track… so I made my way along the Tradeway, cloaked in spells. I didn’t want to go to the familiar hiding places. Didn’t want Rocky to find me, and add fuel to mother’s ire. I really didn’t want to have to play my last few cards yet. I worked up a new argument to my own value with each step I took… and my anger boiled. I had neared Candlekeep when she spoke again.

‘Why do you need the tools?’

‘Hmm I wonder… Why do I?’

‘Anders would take you back. You were his favorite.’

‘I am not going back to that bastard. -Ever-.’

‘Then Burn Him.’

‘Anders? Gladly. It would have been so poetic for you two to die together…’

‘Ahh yes, and you are such the expert on poetic matters.’

‘That is what this is really about… you hate me because he was more attracted to me, because I was -better than you-. Because I won. Because -I- walked away from you… just like everyone else. -You- are worthless mother. And I--’

‘He's following you again.’

She sounded rather annoyed as she said it. My tirade of thoughts was interrupted by a limping Rocky. I turned and glared venomously. Loyal to a gods-be-damned, fatal fault… Idiot. My spell had worn off… Hells… this was going to end badly.

"Damn you Rocky. I told you to go away. Do not follow me."

He spoke through teeth, gritted in pain…

‘I. Won’t. Leave.’

"Rocky! Listen to me. Don't follow. She will kill you for spite you idiot! Get the hells back to the city where it's bloody safe!"

‘He won't leave, eh?’

With that he burst into flame again and collapsed. Fortunately the guard was following close behind… I gritted my own teeth and drew my bow. Damn her for forcing my hand. It was too soon. He writhed in pain.

"Go Rocky. It will stop if you bloody go."

‘I…uh…can't.’

I knocked and arrow and aimed for his throat.

"Rocky. Go. She will kill you. You need to go."

‘I won't gods-damn-it, girl.'

‘Quite the irritant. Like a noisy bug that needs swatting.’

The guardsman asked how he could help as Rocky briefly burst into flame.

"Get him to the city. take him to a temple."

He stood stubbornly, though pain was etched into his stone face, as I drew back the bowstring.

"Rocky. I will kill you. Don't make me. Go with the guard."

‘No.’

"Rocky you bastard. Rocky. You have a choice… you can go now with the guard… and she will leave you alone… or I can kill you and he can drag you back. Your choice."

My voice was ice cold. I lined up the shot. Fortunately, My dear mother, saved me from the dirty work. Rocky burst into flames again. In his weakened and distracted state the guard was able to drag him off.

I considered my options before seeking a space to think. Made my way to the abandoned lighthouse. Rocky wouldn’t look there -if- he was stupid enough to try to find me again. I needed to think. Gods I almost had to kill him! And if I didn’t, she would have… of that I do not doubt. I can’t afford to care about them. None of them. They will just have accept their rolls as tools and move on. Or die.

Such a lovely collection of thoughts that ran through my mind when her voice found me again.

‘So you run here? A dank, smelly ruin of a lighthouse?’

‘Just like home.’

‘Surprising how the rat returns to familiar territory, isn't it?’

‘I just sought some place where it would be hard to find me. That way you could have me all to yourself. What the hells do you care?’

‘I just find it amusing.‘

‘Of course you do.’

‘This could make it easier to find you for some. Indeed it will.’

As her voice faded…I couldn’t help but think she was right. So I cloaked myself in spells and made my way to Feldepost’s. I was so tired… Figured I could make my way there, quietly and quickly. That was the plan of course before her voice caught me from behind and all my spells vanished…

‘Now that is cheating…’

I inched as quickly as I could to the inn. Straight to my room with little more than a nod to Sam. Things stayed quiet after that. For a long time. So I sent out a note… big mistake. I needed someone I could trust. Someone that she would be less inclined to hurt. Mother dear thought I cared about Rocky. She would use that… and I couldn’t afford that sort of game. Mask, on the other hand…

Well… yeah. And we talked for a while. Then the stupid Rock for brains bursts in the room. Now, sis I tried. I really tried. But that delicate balance spiraled wildly. Rocky was pissed about everything. He swears it wasn’t jealousy… but I could see it. The very thought that I trusted Mask… drove him nuts. Not that I could trust Mask further than I could throw him… but that is hardly the point. Appearances and all that. Which led to Rocky decking him. Which… then lead to Mask being angry. Rightfully maybe… but he held -me accountable- for it. Now mind you, I need both of them. Alive. And it just got very complicated.

Because pebble brain can’t control his temper. Damn him. I was going to have a nice chat. And if he doesn’t play nice… by my rules… then he can’t play. I may not have the time to replace one tool… but I sure in the hells don’t have time to replace a whole kit. Some good did come of it however. I know for sure more than I did before just how dangerous Mask really is… and that he is, as I assumed, no different or better than the rest of the rot. A sodding damned bastard, every single one of them. Selfish, fecking pigs.

Regardless… it took some careful words, and Lady forgive me, more honesty than I cared to give… to retain some balance. I am dancing on a high-wire, sis… and on one side… the rope is about to catch fire… on the other side, a knife waits for my back… and on either side of me I have idiots disrespecting the -dance- and threatening to pull me down. A pit of spikes below, and a place among the stars above. I am not ready for that yet, Seraphim. I have a promise to keep.

The evening played out as well as it could. For now there is balance… pending a conversation with Rock for Brains. I just hope it’s enough. Words haven’t failed me yet… But you and I both know… not all battles can be won with words and wit alone. Keep close, sis… of all the ghosts to be haunted by… why in the Nines couldn’t it be you? Bloody Hells. I am not giving them a victory. They took enough of my life. I’ll rot before I let them take more of it than they have. I will keep my promise to you. I will make something better of myself. Mistshadow hide me… I will. Somehow.
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-FOUR]

Don’t say it. I knew better. To balance such things. So much for the one I couldn’t afford to replace. Now I have no choice. So goes the song and dance. The music hasn’t stopped yet… but worthy dancers are few. Love makes people selfish and stupid. It destroys people. Worst of all, now it inconveniences my plans… leaves me with a space unprotected. No, dear sister, not because I fell into love’s gentle illusion… Rocky did. Idiot. No saving him from it.

I was still indignant that the trouble I thought I had accounted for was more troublesome than I had expected. Some good did come of it at least. I realized a bit better who I dance with on one hand… and in Rocky’s case, just how fickle and dangerous heartstrings are. I don’t have -friends-. I had always known that. Tools. I liked him though, could have kept him around… maybe had a friend when this is over with. I can’t afford friends now…

So why am I angry? Why did I care as he burned and mother laughed? Because it was part of the ruse? Or because he genuinely didn’t deserve it? Do any of them really? Maybe not. But I have a promise to keep, and that is all that matters. After that… I can live with my transgressions, make amends where I need to and suffer the consequences where I have to. Doesn’t change the fact that by the end of this, some people are going to hate me more than they already do. Maybe this is better though. Safer for the Rock for Brains.

He had come to the camp, where I had been chatting with several. I gave him a look.

‘Shoot me looks all you want, girl. We need to talk.’

I stood and we crossed the road.

‘Yeah? What in the Nine bloody Hells was the other night about?’

Were we both so selfish? Maybe. We had talked about it once. About what would happen when Rocky stopped being useful. Least this way I didn’t have to kill the idiot pile of stones.

‘He got what's coming to him.’

‘Sure. Once he stops being useful.’

‘Useful for you. I warned him not to call me Rocky.’

He hated that. The impartiality with which I view others. The appraising of tools, the measuring of strings… the process of learning just who to tug and when or how hard. He hated it. He didn’t understand. Why? Why care for a world that never gave me so much as a second glance. Better to use the tools… than to be the tool. Better to tug strings, than to be the puppet. To play rather than be the plaything. I had seen the other side of it. Now I would do what I have to. And he -hated- that.

‘Do you know the kind of bloody talking I had to do after you left? Not to mention paying for a door.’

‘Scarlett. I am leaving.’

‘Why? Just because others call you Rocky?’

‘Um…I hit them because of this, yeah. But that's not the reason I am leaving you stupid girl.’

No minced words between us, ever. Made things easier.

‘Then why?’

‘Arya.’

Of course. Of course it was -love-. Idiot. She would get him killed, and if that didn’t happen… She would break his heart. Ultimately the illusion would be dispelled, and the world would tear them to bits. Nothing but blood and sand… blood on the sand… The unhappy ending. No saving him at all… I was looking at a man who would turn bitter and broken, and he didn’t even see it coming.

‘Don't come crawling back here looking for sympathy when she leaves you heart broken. I tried to tell you, love is an illusion. Happy endings don't exist, Rocky.’

He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes.

‘Goodbye, Scarlett. Hope one day you'll be fine.’

‘You and I both.’

I spoke as he walked away. The bitterest of bitter sweet goodbyes. Rushing out of the flames. Literally. Rushing away to his doom. Figuratively Don’t let me get in the way, idiot. I can’t be dragged down by unchecked emotion anyway. He proved when he decked Mask that he can’t put his priorities straight… Who knows. Maybe the happy couple will trot off into the sunset with a field of flowers at their feet, and find that happy ever after. HA!

The rest of the day was filled with dancing. One conversation flowed effortlessly into another. Gregor is worried about Rhamea… And apparently he and I count one another among trustier sorts, on both sides. We had a nice long chat. I think we both benefited from it. We will see what happens next. We each walk a thin line, in our own ways. I sure hope he doesn’t bite off more than he can chew. He definitely isn’t like the rest of the Back-Alley-Dock-Rot. A welcome surprise.

Dancers. Never a shortage of them. I just need enough close at hand to keep me from old dance partners… At least until the moment is right to bury a dagger in Anders’ throat. Bide my time. Which is more precious each day. Someday… there won’t be any looking back.

‘Sometimes I swear I am standing on knifepoint… with the hells on one side and the bloody abyss on the other. Or maybe I am just tired.’

‘ 'At's when ye say bugger it, an' slide down th' sharp'o it lass. Might cut a bit, b' 'en yer off th'edge…’

The truth of it is… I’ll get through this… And sis? It’s going to hurt like the hells. I won’t break my promise to you. You were the only one who ever gave a damn. And you got worse than you ever could have deserved for it. I’ll see it set right. Somehow. Even if I have to bleed to make it work. I owe you that much.

On the other hand, Maybe it is just time to find some more tools?
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-FIVE]

Seraphim. I am sorry, sis. After you died, I forgot the most important thing you ever taught me.



I think now, sitting in this bloody temple, I’ve been forced to remember the hard way. I always was too bloody stubborn for my own good. At first I did not really understand why any of them cared at all. They’ve been telling me, over and over, in their own ways, why… Almost since I got here to the coast. I could be angry. I could be hateful and push them away. Damn stubborn fools, won’t a single one of them turn tail and run. Why? Because they care, maybe more than I know how to.

Words, sis… I could fill the pages with their words the last few days, especially the last few hours… but they all say the same thing: They aren’t leaving. They don’t just see a pretty face. They don’t see a murdering harlot. They don’t want anything more than for me to be what I should be, not what I was forced to be. I am not a worthless harlot, and the ones who say I am don’t even matter.

Are they wrong? Am I? If mother and the rest of the rot is wrong… then I am wrong too in a way. Who am I anyway? Maeve? Songbird? Harlot? Murderer? Sister? Daughter? Scarlett? Poet? Who? Each name… each mask was mine for a time. Each time some trial was presented and I overcome, becoming something new… or in the least, sloughing off that which I was no longer, adding to what was left. Burning off the rot and walking away with what was left as something new… Such is the way of the Phoenix.

Always I have been the Crimson Phoenix, my sister. I have been wrought in blood and fire, remade and reformed so many times now… Who is the Crimson Phoenix now? She is no longer a dock rat, digging for scraps. No longer a harlot. No longer a slave to a man’s greed and lust. A murderer? Not by choice perhaps but by need, and if they do not stay dead? If they must be killed in defense? Is that truthfully murder? I cannot say it is. Wounded perhaps? Who may walk through fire and remain untouched by the flame? I am a poet of sorts, and according to others… not a bad one. I’ve much that I could aspire to be. I made a promise to you sis. To see it set right… I’ve been so focused on the first half of that promise… I had nearly lost sight of the second… To be something -better-.

I used to think you were the only one willing to stand at my side, sis… But I have seen so many willing to do just that since I got here. I mean hells… Dreamer got set on fire more than Rocky, and stuck around. Hells, Dreamer, Stargazer and that sneaky elf that calls me Blue… showed up during one of our Mother-Daughter chats. They bloody barreled through the door, the two of them, according to the elf.

That elf is an arse… but at least he understood -why- it was important that I limp my half-coherent arse back to the temple in Beregost. Besides. Mother dear wanted to see me get toted around. I’ll be damned if I was going to give her that much. So my pride might get me killed eventually, but there are some things I am not willing to give on. Like I said. He’s a jerk, but at least he is the kind of jerk I can respect.

Which leads to another thing. Apparently the jerk had to kill Rocky for summoning a Balor. Bad stuff, as you well know, sis. Also… no surprise here, but in a round about way, Arya was responsible for his death. Bad as all that was? And as mad as I was with him, I’ll at least honor his last requests. Seems his gem collection is mine now. Maybe there are some I haven’t written verses for? What bugs me… is he wrote this stupid letter -knowing- He’d die. I mean loving like he did for Arya makes little sense to me anyway… But just giving up like that? Deliberately letting yourself fall away like that? That makes about as much sense as standing stark naked in front of Anders. He cared for what it’s worth. Just wish he wasn’t such a Rock for Brains. Least he didn’t drown. Between you and me, sis? He was an arse… but he wasn’t that bad to have around. Live and learn, as they say… Maybe the next one will listen.

So aside from my darling mother taking the time to play games until I was half out of it, I am sure anyone in the temple thinks I have already lost my mind. Now that I have gathered my thoughts? I sounded half crazy at least. Even here in the temple, she still keeps talking… and I hear them laughing. At least the burning stopped for now. For all my trying. The fact that I cared even a little bit, doesn’t matter. I remember the last thing we said to each other before she died. Platinum is right… She made her choice. It isn’t my fault. It never was. Maybe I have been looking at that all wrong. -I- Chose. I chose to keep it from happening any longer. I chose to do something better with my life. I chose to live. She chose to die. I checked before I set the fire… in fact I asked her at least half a dozen times before I did. Got pretty much the same answer. She was so far gone on the Lotus by the time I lit the fire, I don’t see how she even felt it. The damned smoke would have killed her first. Her game. But I am done playing. My Choice. Choice would become the theme of the day actually.

‘Ye always got a choice lass… Wot it comes down t' lass, is it's yer choice.’

- - -

Maybe I better just highlight the conversations.

What the hells do you care?!

"I don't…"

Then. Go. Away.

"No. It is amusing to watch you suffer. Like I did. In all the ways I did…"

You never suffered… you were a shell… A Lotus filled shell!

"And how do you think I became one, you bitch?!"

She never cared. Not once. For all my trying… she never cared. And now she wanted me to? It wasn’t good enough for me to care then?

[i]"You never asked. You never cared. Only yourself…"

How could I ask!! When -you- were never home!

"Never home. I wonder why. Do you think this one would stay with you? Or leave you like your father left me?"[/i]

She taunted as I half dragged, half crawled the Dreamer and I to the temple. Thanks for ruining dinner -mother-.

Every time I saw you … you were so full of toxins or beating me senseless-- I never knew the bastard. Figured father was like the rest…

"And yet you choose to call yourself blameless… worthy, I suppose?"

At least I -chose- something worth while.

I stood there… trying to convince him to stay in the temple so I could get someplace safe, where she could at least no hurt other people… at the point of a dagger no less… and he wouldn’t bloody listen.

"Oh my. Giving him a choice? Do you love him or something? Wait, no… you -can't-. That's right."

Hells no I don't love him… but I am feeling bloody charitable.

"For once? Gods, let us not forget this occasion!"

I've been charitable before… every gods damned time I lay out for your bloody sake. Keeping you happy, buried in your toxins.

"Keep thinking that, little Songbird, keep thinking it. Someday you'll believe it."

What you think I did it for fun?! Certainly not because I had been given much of a gods damned choice.

"And you never thought I may have wanted something different?"

I used to pray you did. What did you want? Huh?! What the Nines did you want? No one ever forced Lotus down your damned throat at least you were bloody allowed to choose who you lay with… What was it you were so carelessly denied?

"Not carelessly. Never that."

Then -what-?

"You will have to figure that out. If you can. Worthless harlot."

Oh of course because that gives you -more- excuses!

"I no longer need excuses. You, apparently, do. Worthless. harlot. One who burned her own mother…"

Like what you did to your -daughter- wasn't worse?! You wanted my sodding sympathy?! Then why the Nines didn't you try something like: I didn't want this for us, Maeve. or: This is the way it has to be because -insert reason here-… No instead all I heard was: Take the bloody tumble… Or you can have another chat with Anders.

"Because you never asked… And now it is -far-, far to late."

How in the hells could I ask when the only time I saw you was to get sent off to the next room or beat senseless for not making you enough coin?! Even if I were to have asked, you wouldn't have bloody answered… unless another beating counted?

"Coward. You never tried."

Fecking Hells… -I- Am a coward?! I never tried?

"Not even on that final day."

I bloody did. Do you even remember what I said? Do You?! Pike off.

"No… I won't."

I remember:
I am going to make something better of what I've got. Are you coming? I Am not leaving any of Anders' shite usable, either come with me, and we make it right, or stay here and rot in your own gods damned filth.'

And then you said:
Have all I need right here so long as you do your job you worthless harlot.

To which I said:
Fine… your choice, I am burning this rot to the ground, Here's enough Lotus to kill yourself with. Let me know if you have the guts to change your mind, Mother.

And I did I asked, over and over… watched you choose the Lotus and your own sodding death…

Then she turned her attention to the Dreamer. So I could call him a friend. I had agreed to allow him that much. But I’d be damned if she should know that, sis.

"I think I'll take this one from you. He really is pretty…"

Take him from me? He isn't mine.

"No, but he wants to be. And that would be so sweet"

He won't be.

"Then why do you dance with him, pretty girl? You do so in ways you don't with the others…"

Because it is amusing.

I left… he tried to follow of course. She set him on fire again… Stargazer happened to show up, and while he dragged him off to the temple, I ran as far as I could before my protective spells failed me. I was so tired, and so sore. I swear I could still smell my skin burning. I half expected to see it blistered and cracked every time I looked at my hands. It felt raw, and only slightly less pained than when she was actually burning it.

I piled as much as I could manage in front of the door in the rotted hole I found to hide in and directed an angry shout at her. I knew she was close. Stupid wench. If she acted like this? It’s no wonder my father decided not to stick around. Wonder if she was heavy into the Lotus then? If she had ever stopped and -talked- to me… how different a few words could have made things. That is the power of words. Instead of kind ones… we traded words barbed in hate.

Look. I can't make you happy… I never could. Apparently you were too strung up to hear the attempted confessions of natural adoration because you were my -mother-… So… since I am damned either way…

"So you run here? I wonder if anyone followed you… or knows you are here?"

Well where the hell else was I supposed to go?

"This dank old place? Like I said, the rat returns to the warren. Ahh, well… mommy still loves you…"

Her voice dripped with scorn and hate, and I burned. It was so much… Not normal pain, like placing your hand in a fire… it was somehow more. I struggled to breathe only to find the heat filling my lungs… I -felt- it so vividly. I was blinded by the blaze. I could smell it, hear it… hear what it was doing to my skin… I could bloody taste the ash as I choked and writhed…

‘… what… Good… does this… Do?’

I hissed through clenched teeth as I struggled to push her away.

"It warms my cold, dead heart…"

‘They'll… Just-drag… me… To t-the temple…‘

"Would you take vows? Would you stay there your whole life?"

She laughed. No doubt finding amusement in the worthless, runaway, murdering, harlot, taking up nunnery.

‘I… would… find a … way to not… … stay -caged-. I would try as I always tried.’

"Tried? Pfft. Songbird, you never tried anything that wasn't to your gain. Please…"

‘How… H-- ow was… it … to -my- gain… Th-is time?’

"You got away. Or you -thought- you did…"

‘Pike…. the… hells off… this… does. Nothing.’

"It does everything, Songbird. You will burn… much longer than I did. For your abandonment. For your treachery. For leaving ME TO DIE!!"

She screamed at me, and some how the fire intensified. I am not sure when I stopped biting my lip and started screaming… Not sure when those screams became whimpers… when I went from standing to a twitching heap, curled in a ball on the floor… Or when exactly the others arrived… but finally… Finally it stopped for a bit. The pain was maddening. The smallest movements, Hells, the others moving the air around me -hurt-.

Somehow I stood. ~Crimson Phoenix~ And we walked out. I could hardly see straight as I struggled to regain my bearings. Still she kept on…

How am I supposed to care when all you have ever given me is reasons not to? from as long as I can remember I ate from a damned gutter while you went and did gods know what?

"And yet you never did anything to change it did you? Lazy, lazy girl"

LAZY?! I did your gods damned dirty work!!

'Ye sure yer good t'walk lass?'

I managed a glare at the Dreamer, to which the Jerk answered cheerily.

'She'd put you in the ground before you put her in the cart.'

‘I'll bloody walk.’

"Are you so certain of that? Come, let them carry you… it will be fun."

Just Shut Up! I'll walk!

"How much do you want to bet they will enjoy it?"

I don't care!

To that, I was set aflame again. I stopped and gritted my teeth against the effort to stay standing.

'Come on, keep walking. You'll be fine.'

He was a jerk, but he was the right sort of jerk. I’ll be damned if I was going to get -carried- to a sodding temple. Dreamer wasn’t happy about me chewing my lip bloody to keep from screaming, and the Phoenix… kept walking.

'Hit'er w' 'at damn wand again.. I'll pay f'r it…

'It's not about the money. More doing things for herself.'

While most of the conversation from the walk was largely unheard… as I argued with her, and strung swear words all the way to the temple… it wasn’t until I was in the temple that the fire stopped and my focus returned some.

"There is a first time for everything, Songbird…"

My name is Not Songbird! You don't -even know- who I am.

"Then why don't you use your real name? The one you were given?"

You never gave me a choice. Told me that name was useless… if it's so important why didn't you ever once just call me by the name you -gave your daughter-?

"There is always a choice… isn't that what you've kept telling me?"

Not one to back from a challenge, my words came angrily.

'You killed Maeve Ceara Clancy long before she killed you… and you know it.'

"We'll see you again soon, Maeve. Both of us…"

I think my heart stopped, sis. To hear Anders’ voice so clearly… so … close. It made my skin crawl to the point I would have burned it off just to remove his taint.

‘… isn't sodding possible and if it is… I'll kill her -again- and make sure there isn't enough of him bloody left to come back from the gods damned hells!’

"You won't before I have my fun with you, Songbird"

"So does that mean you missed me, girlie? I miss you…"

Cale. Cale was dead. Anders was not. Mother was dead. How were they all three… In my sodding head?! This made even less sense than before. And at this point I was nearly hysterical. I wasn’t ready for them. It wasn’t safe. There weren’t enough things in place to keep me safe…from him… much less them. Either the other two weren’t dead, Anders was… or there was some seriously warped wizards out there to dream this sort of magic up.

Either way, I became aware of Platinum. They three in my head took to laughing in the back ground as he began to call wards over me… until at last… it was eerily quiet. Then I was given Rocky’s note and told about his death.

‘Wonder if he will start chatting with the rest of the supposedly dead folks.’

‘As Deva did a thorough job, and the ones you have thought dead I do not think really are, I doubt you will hear anything from him.’

‘Well now. that is just peachy. Means I am not a murdering harlot anyway…’

‘No, you aren't, but you cling to it in your mind. . .’

Then Platinum lowered his voice, the Jerk left, the priests kept busy… there were others I was barely aware of, Stargazer and the Dreamer looked worried half sick. Look at these people sis, so willing to care. Maybe I should let someone care hmm? You do I know… But maybe it is okay to have a friend or two… Gods know I need it.

‘When you stop hiding from the wrong things, you'll be able to face your true foes. Stop looking behind you, and focus solely on the battle ahead. Stop giving them pieces of you to use against yourself.’

‘I don't know what the right things are.’

‘If you have to question it, it's wrong. I told you before, you have to face your past and come to terms with it, right or wrong. Only you know how to do that.’

‘Nothing I did I could change, or would in the end… save being born under the stars I was born under… but that is hardly my choice. There are some things people don’t get to choose. I take that back. I'd have saved her… and made sure the rest of them stayed dead.’

‘Could have. Would have. What happened is what you have to come to terms with. Regardless of what you say, you are still hiding. They will destroy you because you are letting them.’

‘How do I come to terms with it -how-? She kept on and on about how I never cared. I did you know… right up to the very, very end. I didn't know how… Seraphim taught me that… but I tried? And it means nothing.’

‘You cared for her, but she did not care for you, or she would have never put you into the life she did. Throw it back at her. She knows nothing about you, because she never cared to truly find out. You must find the conviction to prove to her that she has no power over you. She does because you allow her to. Make her see.’

‘I told her exactly that today… Honest I did. I got set on fire. Again.’

‘Fire cannot hurt you, Crimson Phoenix. You are merely reborn. -Prove- it to her.’

And I had to stop, because he was right. I am not a harlot. Not a murderer. Not a worthless pile of gutter rot… not a trinket or anything. I am who I am.

Whether I carry your name, sister, or my own… Maeve or Scarlett… I am still the Crimson Phoenix, and I won’t be stopped by that which is my soul. I am the flame, the blinding chaos that refuses to be halted or tamed. I am the thing which none can own or cage and should they try I will burn them away. I am the Crimson Phoenix, and when this fire has died away, I will step from the ashes. I will leave behind all the rot, and take with me all that is worth keeping. Let them seek me. Let them find me. Let them burn. I will walk away. I will keep my promise. That is my choice.
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-SIX]

Well… She may be a goddess in the flesh… but she is so narrow minded it is maddening sometimes. And presently she hates me. No matter. It all comes out in the wash anyway. Maybe she can be reasoned with when she has had time to think and calm down.

So, as best as I can gather… she is mad at one of the Dreamer’s friends for something he -almost- did, and had every intention of doing. Justified of course… I would be pissed too. He’s a bastard as I know him. Dreamer doesn’t know that though. Nor is Dreamer accountable for the actions of anyone but himself. From what I heard, all Dreamer wants is something concrete before he goes and gets pissed off at someone who, so far has been a fairly decent friend from what I hear. Also justified.

So she is justifiably pissed off at Gareut… He justifiably wants some sort of fact and not just moody hear-say. And they might have killed each other over it today… So… I tried to clarify. Reasonably, of course. I like the Goddess… and I also like the Dreamer… Really it would be bad if they killed each other.

Not only that… but I don’t want to be forced to take sides. I mean, on one hand… the Goddess has some pretty influential friends… Not a crowd I need mad at me. Ever. The Dreamer? He is in a whole other category, and I am not too keen on leaving him on the wayside at this point. The way I see it, though… She doesn’t have a right to get all up his arse over something someone else did. It’s like being pissed at me for something Anders did. We only truly control ourselves.

Dreamer tries to steer Gareut out of trouble more often than not. Seems to me the only time he gets -in- trouble is when he is left to his own stupidity and his mouth, which gets him a fair bit of trouble indeed. Can’t say I would trust him if there wasn’t someone else around. But I won’t go blaming the Dreamer for that. When I realized that the Goddess wasn’t being reasonable… We decided to take a walk, get a drink. Left her to her fury. Says I am dead to her because I am supporting a rapist or something like that. Makes no sense… and I don’t know that she would talk that way if she wasn’t already riled up. No sense in getting all upset about it at this point.

Hate Gareut for something he almost did all you want. I would just as soon see her leave the rest of us out of it really. Warned Platinum away from the storm we left at the merchant camp, and headed to the Blade and Stars. Dreamer was rightly upset, but he calmed down before he finished his bottle of rum. Noticed he is drinking less. Good for him, honest. Great simply because I don’t like dealing with drunkards.

We chatted while Platinum worked on some paperwork of some sort. There was a lot of sighing and muttering. I nearly laughed when he tossed a whole chunk of rot into the fire saying ‘I hate you politics.’ Just like that. My kind of paperwork. Still like to know who that adorable little healer he was toting around the other day was. It’s adorable to see so many happy people. Part of me… the part that considers them friends, really hopes it works out for them. The realistic part of me though… knows better.

We decided to head to the merchant camp again, some time later, to see if the storm had passed. I really thought for a moment she would have killed us both. Would have been bad for her to do that. I mean… I am not that keen on being dead. Really. By the time we got there… it was clear that the particular Goddess storm had passed… but there was another sort of storm. Some sort of commotion for the guards and Rainbow. Not that it was actually the storm we were waiting on… and it wasn’t much of a storm, more like a … brief downpour.

A blinding flash… Just as we were about to sit down at the merchant camp. He stumbled, and I stood still… Teeth gritted against the sudden, and all together unexpected, pain that blossomed over every raw nerve and inch of skin. I was dimly aware of exclamations and offers for aid nearby. The Dreamer, sort of fell into his chair. It didn’t even last half a minute if that. I waited anxiously for him to recover… Even offered to let her talk, was greeted with her usual silence.

Same silence I always got just before she knocked me across the room for trying to exchange pleasantries instead of working. Yeah. Love you too, mother. She wants me to care about her? Then she shouldn’t bloody backhand me or ignore me when I damned well try. I wonder why I even bothered. Then or now. Because you really wanted me to try sis? Because you asked me to? Because I thought it would buy us a few seconds rather than getting burned to insanity? Lady guard me in a moment of truth… its more than that, always has been. Not just curiosity.

Some part of me really wants to know if any part of me mattered beyond what was worth coin. Dreamer had asked… why spend so much time on such a pretty name… if she didn’t care. You looked it up sis. Maeve Ceara means ‘Intoxicating Flame’ or ‘the fiery one who intoxicates’. It really is a pretty name… the way she would get angry if I used my -actual name-, like she hated to hear it… Add that to the way she demanded I use it the other day? What was -she- hiding? She is right, I hide behind every little thing. Safer there… Takes one to know one… It isn’t ideal… she would probably kill me for asking… After all these years though, all the coin and lotus I earned her… Haven’t I earned some gods damned answers?

Dreamer and I talked in the temple of Tymora for a while. Planning as best as we could with what little bit of information and knowledge we did have. Wasn’t much, but it’s a start. Mother dear stayed quiet. Strange… and rather… disquieting. Saving up for a grand finale? Closer than I would like to think? Running out of steam? Or was it really just like every time else I have asked her why, and genuinely wanted to hear the answer… that she clams up and goes back to her sulking? We’ll see, I suppose.

For the fifth evening in a row… family reunions aside… He pulled out my chair, and we sat down for an evening of words. Tonight at the Elfsong. I wonder if the world works for, or against me in this dangerous sort of game we play. He is a clever dancer, and at some moments, it is hard to say who is holding the higher ground. Most nights we go our respective ways… and I am left to wonder if I have gained or lost ground. We’ll see… When the dust settles, who stands on which side of which lines… In the meantime… I should better mind my steps with him.

He had not been chased away, yet, by mother dear’s antics. The Goddess hadn’t killed us. It had been a pleasant day, all things considered. The suspicious sorts that had taken roost in my peripheral vision… there but just out of sight… At the corner of my eye, but gone when I turn my head… were either better hidden, or absent. I assumed it was the former, over the latter, for safety’s sake. I kept my ears open all the same. This evening passed quieter than most. I got back to my room at the Blade and Stars, finding nothing out of place.

I settled in for a night of nightmares and screaming into pillows as mother sought to burn my soul from my skin… but she remained silent, and I did not burn. I was left to the company of my own mind. My mind… was perhaps cruel enough to spare me mother’s wrath. More than once, I woke, and expected to see Anders or worse standing there.

‘You always were the favorite…’

‘Did you miss me, girlie…?’

‘… Not before I’ve had my fun…’

Ominous whispers through my thoughts, not just those three, but every sodding bastard who ever sought skin, scream or song to sate some skewed view of lust and attraction. The scenes that my mind presented me as a background to these cruel promises and innuendos… Every tear you ever cried for my sake, sis… and every single drop of blood.

It is… a hollow sort of chill… to know these hands of mine are stained with blood and tears… mine, yours, theirs… And a strange sort of comfort to hope that those I might call friend are right… That it isn’t my fault… Still… I am the Crimson Phoenix… I am blood and tears, anger and fear, lust and hate, burn it all away… and you are left with a Woman… Who is she though? Who am I really? Quench the flames. Brush away the ash… Tell me what is really there? Maybe sis… Maybe some day, I can see her too? Dare I hope that far ahead…

Mist and Shadow! Now I sound like some gods-damned, whimsical fool! I’ve a promise to keep. Until all the rot is ash, behind or beneath me… Nothing else matters. Nothing.
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-SEVEN]

Sis… I really wish you were here. This would all be so much less complicated. Well… maybe not less complicated, but I would know what in the Nines I am supposed to be doing. A bunch of educated guesses. A couple blind shots in the dark too. Oh yeah… and Trouble. The kind of trouble I am supposed to be avoiding. Gods what in the Nines am I doing?

I’ve been flirting with a pretty dangerous idea of late. Been surviving on honesty and trust… Lady forgive me. And breaking several rules of yours sis. You always told me though, that I would know when to bend the rules and when to break them… Hope I am not totally messing up, and I pray you are keeping a close eye on me. Got a half dozen decent folks that I am pretty sure I can call friend.

Take the Goddess for instance. She may be more moody than anything or anyone I have -ever seen- in my life… But she has a good heart. I was right to disregard her anger. In fact the next day we were beating up guys together for calling us wenches and wanted to do ‘experiments’. Sodding bastards. Damn the Goddess yelled loud enough to knock them off their feet. Busted eardrums. We left them for the wolves, who didn’t want them, since I ended up crossing them later. Good thing I had used a bit of magic to protect my ears…

The next day… Well we sort of made peace with more wine than we should have, and about three boxes of chocolate. We had a nice chat though, before she passed out. You know I think she is the only girl friend I have since Cici disappeared. Nice to have someone to talk to about womanly things with. Made me miss you a lot though, sis. I remember how we used to laugh and carry on. Could see Goddess and I carrying on like that. The other girl I can figure is a friend is Whiskey’s soon to be wife. Mrs. Whiskey.

Then she passed out hard, and Dreamer decided to get me some place relatively safe, since at that point I was right drunk. I was also balancing precariously between wanting to kill people and cry and laugh hysterically, so he likely did the whole world a favor. Which lead to all the -other- trouble I have found myself in… No nothing happened. He was sweet enough not to take advantage of the situation.

We talked for ages about all sorts of things. Talked about you, about mother and Cale and Anders, about cottages, like we used to dream up. You know… nice and cozy, with lots of windows to watch the moon from, and an open porch to sit and watch the stars from. I know it wasn’t just the wine… he actually offered to manage it, if that was what I really wanted, and would accept it from him someday… To which I replied: I don’t have any intention of going anywhere anytime soon.

Brilliant of me I know. Hells what a mess… could have been worse, but what a mess. Got a half step off from a kiss, and didn’t. Really a sweet gesture when you think about it. More of the ‘could have taken advantage of the situation, but didn’t.’ What scares the hells out of me, sis… is that I really do think I can trust him. And between you and me… I kind of like having him around. Mother will have a field day with it. I know. Slept all night on his couch, and he was a perfect gent.

Sleeps like a damned rock though. I could have run then… but I didn’t. Could have left after he made us breakfast. Instead I sat down at the merchant camp and stewed. Bloody headache from the hells. I may never touch wine again… and if I do, so help me it won’t be even half as much as I had that night.

Goddess showed up, pretty much in the same boots I was in. We sat and talked for a while. I really was going to make a run for it… even if I had no idea where I would be bloody well running to. Not that it was a practical move… But I wanted to run, all the same. She said I shouldn’t, because what I have starting up with Dreamer is ‘beautiful’. She is a bloody whimsical woman though. It is kind of nice though, seven dinners without any expectations? Stayed all night and not so much as my hood was out of place by morning.

She also says I have friends here. Which… she is right. For the first time since you, sis… I have some friends. Real people that actually give a damn, and they aren’t just eyeing me for a pretty face. At least here, if I wanted to be totally practical about it… I know this area, know a few hiding places, the ground I stand on, the people… I am in good enough terms with the lawful sorts. Folks like Platinum or Whiskey. On my side and willing to put a blade or two in Anders and the rest.

Mask, whose name I was kind enough to adjust to THE Mask so he would quit whining about the Gods getting angry… Well, sure as the hells can’t trust him, but I can trust him to look out for himself. For now, my best interests are in his best interests. If I can keep it that way… we can dance a while longer, he and I. The Masked Dancer… I think that suits him better than Mask anyway. He honors his deals, and we have an agreement. He so much as steps sideways, and I will see him dead. He is going to poke around a bit and see who is where… In the least it gives me a time frame to work with… an approximate distance.

I need to see the Bookworm… Platinum’s brother. Probably should send him a letter soon. Get some research done. If I can figure out what mother is doing and how… I can figure out how to stop it… maybe even how to find them, and if I am really lucky, how to get the upper hand and turn the tables. Go figure sis, ever since I decided I wanted to talk to the fecking wench… she has been dead silent. Not sure if that is a good thing or not. They are using some sort of magic. And I doubt she or Cale are dead… I am pretty sure though, that it is still Anders tugging strings.

So… Goddess talked me out of running… and after a bad day of dealing with idiots who can’t act like mature human beings or keep their hands to themselves, retreating to Beregost for dinner was a good thing. We talked for a while. He really expected me to run, and I was going to… but by the end of the night, I think we were both rather pleased that I didn’t.

Which leads me to the next point… He is sound asleep in bed. I am sitting here writing. My bed, my room… odd to say that and there be nothing but sleep involved. Really. Can’t think of a time there was ever a fully clothed and sleeping man in any bed I call mine. He sleeps so soundly too. I could take out the wall and I doubt he would wake up. It’s almost cute. Really. I laid there for a bit, perched on the edge like the rest of the bed wasn’t there, dozed off for a bit. Woke up with his arm over my side… that was… disconcerting. So I got some toast and coffee from downstairs. Been sitting here and rambling… to you, sis… watching him sleep. What the hells am I supposed to do now, sis?

Hope I haven’t damned him by giving a damn. Seems to be the running theme though… things I care about… well they die. Hard enough to keep myself out of trouble… how the Nines am I supposed to keep us both safe? All I can say is… good thing I have friends, and a bit of a plan… Otherwise… this would be a real pinch, sis. Watch close, from your play in the stars… Lady guard this poor liar… Gods know I am not nearly as good as it as I need to be. Things will be a bit simpler when Anders and all the other rot is out of the picture for good. It is like chasing shooting stars, Seraphim… Freedom is there. I can see it… just out of reach. That star lands? And I swear I won’t let it go… ever. Promises to keep and all that. I am starting to see what you meant about happy endings… They are there… we just have to make them ourselves sometimes…
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-EIGHT]

Well I caught Bookworm finally, and despite some awkward moments… it went well. Would have been slightly less awkward with Platinum there, but Bookworm isn’t such a bad sort… At least not for a stuffy, bookish wizard. At least he isn’t a condescendingly judgmental bastard. In fact he viewed the whole conversation with a bookish curiosity I had hoped for. Nice and impartial. Plus he genuinely wishes to learn… with luck, he will be one of those obsessive types that will dig until he has it figured out. Except I need to send him a letter or go see him again… Seems they have new tricks.

Least they have the same old penchant for ruining a good day too. I had returned to Beregost, to Feldepost’s. Some toast and some water. Still didn’t have the taste back for wine, and my stomach was unsettled from the last few days. I was writing down some things, trying to keep all the parts and pieces in order, when Dreamer showed up. He sat down with that easy confidence he carries himself by. I took a few moments to bind the new poems into the book I had given him as we exchanged the normal pleasantries.

It is fascinating to watch him some moments. Especially when he is reading. It is a marvel to me now, more than before to watch how the words play on his thoughts… And how those thoughts play on his expression. So I watched him from time to time as he read the new additions, and tried not to smile too much. It is nice to see the words I love so much appreciated by another. Especially since one particular poem was less veiled than others…

‘I love'em lass…’

‘Thought you might.’

‘An' lass… Ye've got nothin' t' worry 'bout, eh?’

I knew what he meant. Even as he smiled that easy smile and ordered his rum. I knew what he thought was coming… but I would wait for more to unravel before I settled on anything. A lot could change very quickly. Look at you, sis… or any other…

‘We'll see.’

‘Aye, we will…’

Such confidence…

‘S' wot ye writin' 'ere?’

‘Just trying to collect thoughts, and keep plans somewhat organized.’

‘Care f'r a han', 'r 'em -private- thoughts?’

‘Well this is more like … task assignment. Stargazer is keeping an eye on the Fan Club… Bookworm is now on Research… Goddess is keeping me from running away as fast as possible…’

‘I'm supplyin' dinner, roit?’

I laughed and he just grinned.

‘And conversation and moral support…And… some confusion… but that will sort…’

‘Aye, Moral support 'as my secon' guess.’

‘I have the Masked Dancer doing a different sort of research… Platinum and Whiskey, their jobs are obvious… Mrs. Whiskey too… though she wants to also act as publisher for my book of poems I am supposedly writing.’

‘I'd buy a copy, eh?’

‘So would a lot of folks apparently. Which is mind boggling… Just seems weird to pay for a poet's thoughts.’

‘Nae more'n lads tippin' me f'r a song… An' I'll tell ye lass, I've 'ad some pretty damn good tips… Ye've got talent lass, b' ye arready know 'at…'

‘Yes but with so many spur of the moment bits… it wouldn’t make sense ou--’

…out of context… But that thought was interrupted by the insidious voice of Anders.

‘Mmh… talent, yes. A great deal of talent.’

Gods, Seraphim! Even knowing he isn’t as close as he -sounds- didn’t help. My skin crawled. That voice… on any other creature, would be almost pleasant as it reached the ears. Deep and resonant… from such a snake as Anders? The way he used to get right next to my ear and speak, knowing how it affected my sensitive ears… Bastard. Rotting pile of fecking waste! I swear to gods, sis… I could -feel- him close… even if it was from memory alone. I prayed so hard it was my imagination… I could feel his breath on my ear as he spoke… and I wanted to rip my damned ears off.

‘Sod the Nines off, you bastards!’

Anders and Cale laughed, Cale didn’t sound as close… but I could see his eyes… how they watched. I was distinctly aware of how exposed I was… in a dress. I missed my armor. Even if they weren’t physically there. Not that the armor would have stopped the bastard from picturing every detail he had so memorized in ten years. Poor Dreamer, kept on oblivious, as my own thoughts spun down a much darker road.

‘When I find you, I'll remember that, Songbird. We'll enjoy ourselves afterwards. Well. We will. Not sure if you will or not.’

‘I am not your gods damned Songbird!’

‘ … Wot 'as it ye said? "Each person takes sommat diff'rent from it?" Mebbe lads woul' fin' meanin' 'ere ye din't e'en know 'ere was…’

Something about seeing the same bastards every day for ten years… and usually most nights… I could see the look Anders gave his hulking brother as they laughed over the sickening promise. I took a sip of water to quell the bile in the back of my throat… nearly gagging on it, as I tried to focus on Gregor.

‘Does he ever stop? Or does he always ramble on and on?’

‘Yes well… It seems -some- people are taking that out of context.’

‘Oi? 'Ow so?’

‘At least he can carry on an actual conversation.’

‘Never mind…’

I frowned, as Anders continued to spout his rot. Dreamer took it to heart. It wasn’t him. Probably one of the few decent men that exists. As he has said… he is no angel… But he sure in the Nines isn’t a bloody rotter.

‘We weren't interested in your conversational skills.’

‘Issit me?’

I shook my head at Dreamer.

‘Yes well… he is.’

‘It was laughable watching the two of you last night.’

I frowned even more. Now I just wanted to flay my own skin off. Not because of the Dreamer, but just because I was so sick of the eyes of those piles of filth. Sick of their thoughts and words and everything about them… and the more I thought about it, the more disgusting it was, and there came a point when I actually thought I would vomit. I hate them, sis. Hate them so much. I cant wait… for the moment when they die. I promise… there won’t be enough pieces of the bastards left to crawl back from the dead.

‘What? Not enough happen for your tastes?’

I couldn’t help the contemptuous sneer in my voice… or thoughts as it were.

‘I wonder if it doesn't work? Ask him yet?’

‘It is called being a damned gent, something you two rotters know nothing about…’

I was distantly aware of Dreamer’s frustration at my sudden lack of responsiveness. My focus was split, and I couldn’t help it. Anders was pissing me the hells off.

‘Well damn lass, jus' nae fair 'at. Ow'm I' s'pposed t' 'elp ye, 'r fix it if ye won' tell me, eh?’

‘Sorry, Dreamer… Company and -all that rot-.'

‘Oi… 'at…’

I managed an absent nod as Anders ran his mouth.

‘A gent? You certain about that? You do have lousy taste in men, you know.’

‘HA… and you are an expert on decent men how?’

‘Give'em 'ells lass. Dun' give in…’

‘Because in my business, I know a great deal about men… and what they want.’

‘Well why don't you go make them happy then, and leave me the Nines alone? Besides… you know what -sodding piles of rot want- … Not real sorts.’

‘And how many of those "real sorts" do you really believe are out there in the world, girl?’

‘Not many… but I have already met a few. What the Hells do you care for the company I keep anyway? Mad he isn't a paying customer? Sorry… you missed the part where I wasn't for sale anymore…’

Dreamer took the hand that wasn’t clinging to the water glass like I was going to beat someone with it. Anders kept talking.

‘You will be again. It's a simple matter, really. Unless you sleep with all of them nearby? I don't think your "friends" would go for that.’

‘I’ve not tossed a damned thing since I left your stinking hole.’

Dreamer burst into flames, his grip on my hand tightening briefly before grabbing the table. I scrambled for the wand, and prayed that it would be enough to abate the flames

‘Ohhh, getting quick with that are we? Becoming quite multi talented.’

I looked Dreamer over worriedly. It wasn't just mother who could set people on fire. The retort forming in my thoughts as my own anger seethed. Bloody, Fecking games!

‘I am good for more than a toss, you bastard.’

‘That's still what you are best at, though. And perhaps your singing. Though your singing was quite fine while you were doing both, eh?’

‘Shut the nines up, I won't sing for you either.’

‘Dreamer?’

‘You'll sing. The song will be one of pain and pleasure, but you will still sing.’

'Jus'… keepin'… Eyes… onna armor…’

‘Like Hells I will.’

I tried to focus less on Anders and more on Dreamer. He offered a feeble grin as he tapped the white portions of the armor. He was right… it was a small comfort to look and see it wasn’t charred and burnt. Outward, I tried to appear calm… inside, I seethed.

‘Take a sip of water… Dreamer… maybe you better get to the temple?’

‘Only if yer comin' w' me…’

‘Let's give you a taste, shall we?’

Anders’ words, Gregor’s response, and the fire came to me simultaneously. With little time to actually react or respond. I gritted my teeth and fumbled with the wand. I had barely caught my breath when Anders spoke again.

‘And maybe even your friends?’

He laughed as the barmaid caught fire. She cried out and slapped at her clothes as I used the wand again.

‘Hells!’

‘Nae bein' picky nae more, eh?’

‘I guess not… You alright, sugar?’

She nodded and I looked at Gregor.

‘Dreamer. Lets go for a walk…’

‘Aye, lead th' way lass.’

‘Oh yes, a walk…’

I shoved a decent amount of gold, to pay for the food, drinks, a room, and the trouble, at Sam as we walked out the door.

‘Sorry…’

‘Happens to the best, girl. Be careful.’

Sure… the best of us… And the murderous harlots are haunted by insane rotters with magic? Well at least Sam was being sporting about the whole thing. Either way, I wanted to limit Anders’ reach to the rest of folks. Gods I hoped Bookworm could figure this out.

‘S' t' th' temple, or ye got sommere else in min'…’

‘Uh… Let’s… just get out of here… Well… temple's closest. Can't set people on fire there I think…’

‘A taste, just a taste… something that awaits you, Songbird.’

Even as the flames brought us both to the cobblestones, it had nothing on the anger that churned in my stomach. His voice inched along every nerve, raw from the flame.

‘Pike off…’

I staggered as the heat increased, barely aware of Dreamer crawling to his feet and urging me on. The walk from Feldepost’s to the temple… it seemed longer than the distance between here and Waterdeep. It stopped briefly, and I spoke… not sure if my words were for his sake or mine, but I spoke regardless.

‘Go… Get up…’

Then we burned. Staggered and stumbled amid cries of the peasants as we inched to the temple… until we collapsed. The familiar taste of blood as my lip paid the price of my silence. I would not give him my screams. Not now… not ever.

‘Fine… hells… what?! what good is it if I can't… do anything?!’

I was even struggling for thoughts. It hurt, sis. I expected to die. Really.

‘That's possibly the point… hells is a good word.’

It stopped.

‘Bloody run… if you have … To…’

‘C'mon lass.’

We staggered to our feet, and Dreamer grabbed my hand, pulling. I stumbled and cursed. Anders spoke as I stood. Probably half the distance covered to the temple, maybe two thirds if the gods were kind. At least we weren’t on fire.

‘Pity that. He's a nice lad I suppose…’

As I looked up, half expecting Dreamer to catch fire again… He turned to stone.

‘What in the bloody Nines?!’

‘And now you can put him in your garden…’

They laughed… Anders and Cale. It grated on my ears.

‘Let him go!’

‘Bloody Hells!’

‘No. We're giving you a choice, girl. You… or him? Which will it be?’

I looked at Dreamer… a cold knot forming in my stomach.

‘What do you mean a choice…?’

‘You got rid of the last one quickly enough. How about this one?’

It was… at best, a deal with a devil. At that point though… it was all I had. So I gambled.

‘He won't go. He practically pays… surprised you are chasing him off. All that coin he drops at my feet.’

‘The coin isn't brought to me, though girl, and you have taken a lot of mine already.’

‘Yeah. Well, you owed me for some blood. Besides… I mean the last one that you all chased off… wasn't worth the rocks between his ears… This one--’

‘Is a rock?’

‘Let him go… he is worth more as a man than a statue and you know it.’

It was a deal with this devil to buy some time… or hope that I could fix it. I wanted to wretch.

‘What use is he to us?’

‘You always said a happy harlot was a productive one.’

I sneered and choked down more bile. He’d be dead before he got that close.

‘Mhmm… do you plan on going back to work then?’

‘Don't look like I have a choice. But, I'll not do a gods damned thing if you don't let him go.’

‘What can happen once, can happen again, girl. But… I think not. Have fun with your statue.’

He laughed, and it faded into the background. It took some doing, but I got one of the guards to help me drag Dreamer’s Statue to the temple… At least we were done catching on fire. The priests, by now were used to me visiting Beregost for my … troubles. The one voice I had hoped for was absent.

‘So no pleasant mother-daughter chats today?’

Her chuckle was distant, and dripped with ire.

‘Have something to say?’

‘Maybe… Honestly, been interested in what -you- have to say. A question or two maybe? You have been more chatty lately than you ever have been. Aside from the whole burning up thing… its been… well… you never wanted to talk before. Why the change of heart?’

‘Chatty?’

‘I haven't been this interesting to you since my early -lessons-…’

She laughed mockingly.

‘I have one interest in you, my daughter… and it's a not an enjoyable one.’

Progress of sorts… she did call me her daughter… not her harlot, her songbird, or any of the dozen other things she ever called me. Why did that even matter to me? She hates me… and given the chance, I would probably kill her… So why did I want to know? To understand her hate? And yet the curiosity was threatening to tear me to pieces.

‘Nothing but time and all waiting for you all to show up here to supposedly drag me back. Why not chat?’

Just another game… each side stalling the other while preparations were made, each willing to do whatever they could to inflict pain on the other. Each so certain that they were right, that they had been wronged the most. I wondered. Who would emerge the victor, who was truthfully the victim? Could we each have done one or two things differently, and changed it all? Each reacted. Where did it actually start?

‘And what do you want to talk to -me- about?’

‘I get it… you hate me… I have understood that as long as I can remember… what I want to know… Is -why-?’

‘Hate you? Why do you think?’

My focus divided between the mother out of reach, and full of hate… and the man who now gently tugged at my hand. Mutedly I sat on the pew. Resigned to another long night in the temple… At this rate I would either be a harlot or a nun… neither of which, claimed the priest… were ideal. Frankly, I was inclined to agree, sis.

Something else was encroaching on my thoughts. He held my hand. He wouldn’t run… And… I don’t think I wanted him to. It was nice… to not stand alone. I had grown so used to your support, Seraphim, and it has been difficult to stand without it. I’ve managed. Still… It’s nice to not be alone. To be treated like a human being. Not some tool to sate a lust or greed.

‘I am talking before the whole… left you high and choking on smoke… part.’

‘That is all that matters, Maeve. That is all that matters.’

It was so cold and final, so full of hate… Distant.

‘Dun' back down lass.. Be who yer gon' be, an' not who 'ey wan' ye to…’

That whisper was enough to fan the flames that were remaking the phoenix yet again.

‘Alright fine… for the record… I gave you a chance. All I ever got was a backhand or a demand for more Lotus or coin. Why Maeve? Why such a pretty name for a girl you never came to see?’

It was a question I asked many times… and the answering silence was telling enough, but still I hoped. Of course, ever the disappointment…

‘I am beyond caring, now. I want only one thing from you.’

‘How convenient.’

‘How positively convenient… Means you don't have to think about all the days you left a baby in the care of dock rats, or a child to swim the gutters of Waterdeep!’

‘Convenience has little to do with it.’

‘Then what? Why? Alright… you got knocked up from some rotter… Why give her a pretty name and never let her use it… you said you wanted something better… What?’

It was the same questions, even if the words changed. Always the same, for all those years. Even as Dreamer’s silent encouragement urged me forward, I knew the wall I would meet quick enough.

‘It doesn't really matter anymore, you took any chance I have for that.’

And the same wall… Her contempt and loathing… drew forth the same anger as I pounded in frustration against the unmovable line of separation.

‘You think I did it on purpose! Like I had any bloody choice of who my parents were? Hells if I could have chosen I would have left you the Nines alone! Honestly?! What's it matter now… you want that one thing… what does it matter if I know the truth of it hmm?’

‘The truth? Do you want a board to the face to show it to you? You've never been concerned about truth before.’

Her words came between malicious giggles.

‘I am learning my own new tricks. Besides, what do you have to lose?’

‘The satisfaction of denying you…’

‘Coward.’

‘Oh… nicely done. As if -your- thoughts and opinions matter to me?’

‘You have denied me every day of my life… I doubt you telling me why you hate me… is going to ruin your nearly perfect record. You and Anders are going through a lot of trouble for all this, mother…’

‘Do I need another reason? I really have little left to do, Songbird. Only one thing to focus on, now.’

‘No one does anything for no, or so little reason at all.’

‘Then you have lost your memory… I owe you pain, and I will have it.’

I wanted to scream. She owed me pain?! Twenty two, gods-be-damned years of it wasn’t enough?!

‘See this is just like every other time… I give you the chance to talk… to do something normal, and you spit in the palm and slap me away… Every time. Don't know why I kept trying all those years or try now.’

‘Try or not, the end result will be the same.’

‘I checked on you. You were so full of lotus you were a half a breath from dead…. you would have choked on the smoke long before it even felt warm… You were dead… and I asked dozens of times that day… for you to come with me! I gave you so many chances… and finally offered you the only other kindness I could give. You weren’t even wise enough to take that escape! Why not come with me then… all those times I asked… why not just leave?’

‘Enough, my little girl… Enjoy your stay in the temple… please don't become a nun. That would be such a cliché. And enjoy your self righteousness while you can.’

‘And you accuse me of running!’

I screamed as her presence faded, and her laughter grew more and more distant. Why was I trying? Why at all? Even though they had grown silent I felt them watching. Anders’ words haunted me then… made me self-conscious. I was… infinitely grateful that I had not given them anything to amuse their lurid minds with…

How long did I sit there cursing them? Finally I began to write while Gregor sat quietly… He shifted and wrapped his arms around me then… it almost felt… safe. Unimposing, undemanding and utterly lacking in malice. I could stand… for now… but certainly not indefinitely. Keep me out of trouble, sis… because that is straight where this would head if I wasn’t bloody guarded.

‘Still 'ere lass, 'ey're gon' 'ave t'do be'er 'en 'at, aye?’

‘They won't be happy until they have chased you off.

' 'En 'ey jus' won' e'er be 'appy, eh?' ’

‘Good…’

That I didn't want them happy? Or that I didn't want Dreamer gone? Both?

‘Din't e'en hurt 'at bad 'is time…’

‘Sorry, Dreamer…’

His only response… was to hold me closer, as he drifted into sleep. Lady guard me… Even as I am writing this… Gods what am I doing? Mist and Shadow… I am running out of places to hide, and it terrifies me.
~~

[ENTRY THIRTY-NINE]

I hate to sound like the Goddess… but some things are just beautiful, sis… You were there… You know… The air was cool, late in the day. It was early evening at best, when I reached the merchant camp just south of the bridge. The air was damp, and while most would have been uncomfortable, I welcomed it. The clouds marched slowly across the sky, casting long and shifting shadows about. Most would have been unsettled… but I smiled. This night… The Lady walked with us…

The sun settled low, and as it lost its place in the sky, the stars stepped out, brilliant, even through the misty haze that inched up from the ground. The earthen paths, cobblestones and leaf-laden or meadow-carpeted ground gave off a sweet perfume, Her scent touching all who walked through Her grace. I pitied the fools who ran through the fog, or feared it… For the foolish who complained of the chill and the damp. The moon now stood above us in her glory.

In the shifting firelight from the camp, and the sifting silvery strands that fell from the moon, I saw the shadows dance. Their gentle movements lent motion to the swirling mists. Mist and Shadow danced… The stars glittered… the rhythm in a song few could hear. Every voice of the night… from the flames to the crickets to the whispering breeze. The night sang to Her, and she danced…

It was a balm to me, sister, Her gentle whisper, as I offered my humble prayers. I gave to Her, my most beautiful metaphors, my most careful lies. I asked Her forgiveness for my truths, and her protection… She was pleased. I know this because her gift to me was your smiling face in the mist. This night… I could watch you dance in between the moonbeams. That She would bless me, of all people, with such a beautiful illusion this night… I was humbled. I had never been Her most faithfully devout. Yet, She wrapped me in her cloak all the same…

It was there, held so by the Mistshadow, that Dreamer wrapped his arms around me. His warmth a contrast to the cool of the night. I watched the night dance, and offered fitting rhymes… Carefully chosen words, easy lies, the world was the Lady’s and we danced. Fan Club let on to a few more things, confused by Her illusions, and hopefully my own. Barbed words were traded, grieves were eased, truths were hidden, plainly or elaborately. It was beautiful. All the world danced in Her shadow. Everything moved to a rhythm… whether or not they were aware of the melody that lent grace to their very movements and thoughts…

She offered me a lullaby, and the Dreamer, a cradle and soft pillow… Wrapped me in the beauty of it, and beneath it all, I held your smile… my promise… I slept for what seemed ages. Her illusions twisting the very time in which I was held. Her hand touched my mind… and drew forth the most stunning and terrible of dreams… the most breath-taking and beautiful. I watched Her work Her grace over my subconscious. I marveled at the wildest of dreams, and cowered at the most horrific of nightmares. I moved fluidly through it all as She showed me the most hidden parts of my heart and even my soul.

Finally, just before dawn would come, She would let me wake. Even as morning would fall on us, She was not finished with her magic then… There was more yet to come, and I would revel in every part of it. I woke to faces, both strange and familiar. Stargazer was there, and Fan Club, with some woman he is often with… Knots, who worried over his troubles. I offered him words, how true they are remains to be seen… But it eased his mind for a time, I think. Fan Club watched as Dreamer motioned to Stargazer… and we agreed on breakfast.

I don’t like the way Fan Club watches me… and given his words through the night… I am even less trusting of him than before, whether he is or is not working for Anders remains yet to be seen. There are too many coincidences to discount… to many inconsistencies. He was the topic of the morning, amid flirtations and veiled innuendo, and other light-hearted banter. Whatever foul mood had found me the day before, had vanished in a swirl of mist. The song had changed, though I wouldn’t be aware of it, until the illusion was complete… and I was at the mercy of the dance.

No disrespect to Rhamea… but maybe Dreamer is right… maybe we were dancing long before she left… if she saw this, even before we did, and that is why she left… I apologize. Wherever she is, I hope the gods smile on her, and she can forgive us both. I know Dreamer never meant her ill, and I can honestly say I do not either. For whatever reason that the Multiverse moves as it has, the day brought a Dreamer and his Nightmare to a new song… and a whole different dance.

Stargazer had left us to our musings well after breakfast. The conversation moved along like a stream of thoughts. Gently, but swiftly it carried us onward, creating its own song, and setting our hearts to motion. I wasn’t aware that my eyes had lingered too long on his face until he spoke, drawing me from my own thoughts.

‘Wos' on yer min' lass?’

‘Hmm? Oh… just considering the last few days.’

‘An'?’

‘Very different from the last ten years of my life… Which was rather different from the first twelve… These last few months have been… liberating… in more than one way. The last tenday or two… an unexpectedly pleasant change of pace…’

He smiled warmly as I finished my halting rambling.

‘Glad I coul' be a part 'o 'at…’

‘Me too… even if it is utterly terrifying…’

I smiled a bit and sipped my water as he now regarded me.

‘C'n I ask ye sommat?’

‘You may.’

I then suddenly worried over the question. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry long.

‘If all 'is ended, roit nae, an' I jus' up'n dis'peared off th' face o' Toril, woul' ye go on b'lievin' 'at it's worth it t' keep yer eyes an' yer 'eart open?’

‘I don't know… I couldn't say I wouldn't… but I can honestly say … I don't think I would like to have to find out.’

‘ 'En I'm 'appy lass…‘

He knew enough of my ticks and tells, while I was hidden to the world… I was running out of places I could hide from him… and… running out of the want to hide. He smiled, almost goofily as he slid his hand over mine, which drew from me a faint smile. We sat there, each to our own thoughts for a time. I stared at his hand on mine… I couldn’t help but think of the unimposing way he carried such simple gestures. A beauty all of its own, sis. If such things are illusion… then perhaps they are not so bad? Again, it was his voice that drew me from my silent contemplations, but it was the blessings of the Lady, and the glimmer of hope that you had given that lead the dance…

‘ 'Is place needs a bleedin' songstress 'r sommat… I'm inna mood f'r some dancin'…’

‘Thought all you needed was the rhythm, Dreamer?’

‘Aye, b' if noone else c'n 'ear th' music, 'ey ten' t' give ye funny looks…’

He chuckled cheerily.

‘Can the Dreamer waltz?’

The question surprised me. Truly it did. Even as the thoughts took form. It was a dangerous thing, to dance with fire… and yet, the very allure of it was hypnotic. I gave him a challenging look, my fingers already setting the rhythm, as the song took form. One of your favorites, sister, and I know it made you smile, sister.

‘Lass, I'll dance any way ye ask me to…’

Did he even know what he risked? Every joy he took in the light of the fire… would burn him many times over… and if he survived, he too would rise from the ashes… But first…

‘One dance…’

‘Why stop 'ere?’

‘And you get one song…’

He looked at me quizzically as I tugged him to his feet. No turning back now… I hummed lightly. The Blade and Stars is seldom empty, but this day, it wasn’t overly full. It was early afternoon, and most sorts were busy with various tasks. I could have hummed it as I do any other song I refuse to lend my voice to since leaving Waterdeep, but the spell of the night, and the lull of the day granted me a courage I hadn’t found in a while. To sing… not because I had to, but because my heart -felt- the music in the words… the poetry not enough… Some things… not even words can hold… And when that happens, Music… Music gives the words glory and grace.

I didn’t wait for him to lead the dance as the melody took hold. I stepped us into the waltz with a grace I had forgotten I held. I closed my eyes as the world turned away. I heard your violin as my feet stepped in time to a song I knew by heart. By the time I gave the melody the lyrics it deserved… the whole tavern had turned to us… but the only eyes that mattered, smiled on me… and I sang. I opened my eyes to the stunned faces of the Tavern-goers, the whole inn had fallen silent. Dreamer could barely speak… There were appreciative applauses from the patrons. It was as if they understood what was unfolding, and they kindly left us to our thoughts.

‘Thought ye din't sing lass…’

‘When I do sing, forever forward… if I do sing… it will be my choosing…’

He held me close, his cheek on mine as his breath whispered past my ear. For all our dancing in the last couple of months… especially the last pair of tenday… Today we -danced-. It left him in shock, and I couldn’t help but smile.

‘Wake up, Dreamer… song's over…’

‘B' it's th' bes' Nightmare I've e'er 'ad, lass…’

‘Hopeless Dreamer…’

‘Nightmare.’

‘The best of your worst, Dreamer.’

We chuckled and stood there in the quiet.

‘Think I fell into a whole different set of stars… You alright? Or did -you- fall into some stars?’

I grinned wryly at him, and he met my mischievous gaze with a sincerely awestruck one of his own.

‘Def'nietly fell lass… Nae sure wot I got m'self inna yet, b' I'm in nae 'urry t' get out…’

‘We should sit down before your knees give way, and you join your thoughts in a heap on the floor…’

I laughed, and he happily followed as I guided him back to our seats. The barmaid had cleared the table and refilled our glasses. She left in the place of our plates, his black rum, and a pitcher of water for me. I drank gladly as he continued to look at me in a way that tugged at the fringes of my heartstrings.

‘Poor Dreamer…’

He effected a mock look of scorn and hurt.

‘Wot've ye dun' t'me lass…?’

‘I taught you to -dance-…’

I grinned wryly at his sheepish smile. He really was rather handsome, and I was quite fond of he awe struck way he regarded me now. Unimposing and without expectation. We talked a while, about songs and choices and audiences and other fittingly apt topics. Subtly… he took the lead in our dance, and the encore was well on its way before I had the sense to stop it… and long after I had lost the want to.

‘When 'as th' las' time ye 'ere kissed by a lad wot meant 't?’

The casual manner in which he asked caught me off guard… None the less, I scrambled in my thoughts to find an answer besides: Never. Tried though I may have wanted to, that was all I could offer him. So I did.

‘A shame lass…. A damned shame, an' dun' think I'm sayin' 'is outta pity, b' I'm truly sorry, lass.’

‘Not your fault, Dreamer.’

We regarded each other silently for a long while.

‘Moments like this… I worry what you are thinking…’

‘Dun' worry lass, I'm doin' th' same w' ye.’

So we agreed to share our honest thoughts. Fortunately, he went first.

‘I like ye lass, I like ya a 'ole bleedin' lot, b' ye arready knew 'at… I'd like t' push't a bit, b' I dun' wan' ye t' think 't's been all an act up t' 'at point, aye? I tol' ye we'd nae break yer pace, an I meant 't, aye? Dun' wan' scare ye off, by actin' like I'm used t' actin', eh?’

He watched me, as I gathered my thoughts, and offered yet another prayer to the Lady. Our whispered conversation continued as we emptied our minds of our very hearts.

'I -am- used to acting… Used to twisting and manipulating… none of it has ever meant anything… aside from a few coins. Or a lot of it was meant for misery's sake… I am used to it… I expect it. You… You contradict every damned thing I have ever known… I don't know what to do, honest. I keep wanting to fall back on old habits, seduce, use and walk away… because it is what I know… but I don't -want- that… I genuinely hope my sister was right… that there -is- more to it than that… and I am completely terrified. Because I feel utterly bare and at a complete loss… if any of that makes sense at all?'

‘Aye… I will promise ye lass… Though it may be uncharted waters f'r ye… It's safer 'n th' storm ye been sailin'… An' gods willin, an' e'ery inch'o my blades, an' e'ery bit 'o magic 'r trickery I c'n conjure up, it'll bloody well stay 'at way. F'r as long as ye care t' sail lass… An' 'at's th' bleedin' truth.’

‘I've not known safe…’

Tell me sis, when the seductress was caught off guard, and when exactly we stood again, on the edge of a blade? I didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but it did… and I didn’t mind.

‘Well'en lass, I'mma do e'erythin' I c'n t' show 't t' ye… An' we'er I burn, 'r bleed, 'r wote'er th' bleedin' 'ells 'ey wan' throw at m' lass, I'll take it, f'r ye, cuz yer worth it t'me…’

‘It's like being between the “Point of no return,” and that mythical “Happy Ever After.” I don't want you hurt.. I've only ever said that to my sister… but I mean it…’

‘ 'Em stories din't 'appen t' misguide people, lass… 'Appily e'er a'tter's out 'ere, an' if I gotta 'urt a bit t' see 'is through, 'en by th' gods, 'at's wot I'mma do. An' mebbe, one day, 'f I'm lucky, ye'll let me buy ye a nice li'l cottage, w' a porch, an' lots 'o windows. Mebbe close t' a beach, s' while yer watchin' th' stars, I c'n 'ear th' waves, roit b'side ye…’

It was such an alluring promise… The culmination of so many factors… the world came together in a moment, on the edge of a blade… at the very point of the knife. There are a million cliché things that can be said for that moment. Irony it was, to call it the Harlot’s first kiss… but there are no other words. Absolutely none. In that moment, we fell from our perch as the very last strands of apprehension were cut by the very blade we fell from.

The second kiss did little to return word or thought to proper order and place, but he was kind enough to take the lead, as I truly no longer knew the steps to the dance we now found ourselves in. Even still, there was no expectation. We made our way to my room. He gave me time for my thoughts and my writing. He was barely awake when I finally crawled into bed. Lazily he bid me good night and draped his arm around me comfortingly. For the second time, I slept in a Dreamer’s arms, wrapped in the Lady’s illusions. I was as content in this, as he was in simply holding me. As my own dreams danced at the edge of thought… I could not help but smile. The song had ended… but the Ball had not. Morning would no doubt bring a new song.

Maybe you were right, my dear sister. You’ve been right about everything else… We’ll see… For now I will keep the ruse going. Make it convincing. Besides, it will be nice to pretend I have a shot at happy ever after. Only a fool believes her own ruse.
~~

[ENTRY FORTY]

Busy few days, sis. Haven’t taken time to write in too long. Since I am stuck here at Candlekeep, I might as well catch up. I’ll get to -why- I am stuck here in the only tavern on the coast that doesn’t have a good selection of red wine… in a minute or two. I am finally calmed down enough, and my head isn’t spinning from the damned wine. Dreamer is asleep next to me on the couch. I tried to sleep… but it isn’t working. So I will take my solace in the words.

It is odd how calming this ritual can be, sis. To watch the quill touch the bleached parchment… and set forth its blood-red ink. As though my very heart bleeds on these pages… as my thoughts and emotions tumble from my haphazard mind… into graceful script on the page. Calming… in some inexplicable way.

So a few days ago, Dreamer and I convinced Knots and Goddess to come to dinner with us. Knots likes Goddess, and both of them could use some time to relax. Knots works too hard, and I swear… Goddess doesn’t know how to calm down and just relax. So I took her shopping, and we got all prettied up. It was fun, skipped the make up and fixed each other’s hair. Picked out a couple of nice dresses. She is deadly all dolled up. Could give a man a heart attack.

Nearly well did too! Should have seen Dreamer and Knot’s faces. Utterly priceless. Anyway, the evening started out really nice. Good food and what not. I was starving. So I didn’t talk much. Which was okay, Goddess and Knots chatted about all sorts of stuff. Poor Knots. He really likes her a lot. Thing is… Goddess isn’t the romancing type. Oh well, who knows… maybe something good will come of it yet.

So there was a minor interruption about half way through dinner. Cutie came and got Knots because of some trouble that Knots was already aware of and couldn’t do much about… Then he came back. People were a bit edgy, so I just suggested what made sense. Some song and dance. I am a performer at heart. Just because I am not Anders’ little Songbird any more… doesn’t mean I can’t sing. Especially for good folk like Goddess, Knots and Dreamer. I mean they don’t see it the way the rest of the rot did… They actually appreciate it. It isn’t some sick game where they see what they can do to break my concentration and ruin the song, and me trying to stubbornly hold notes… No… they -actually appreciate the music- the way you did, Seraphim. I used to think you were the only one. Been proven wrong a lot more than I like since I got here… but at least it isn’t all bad.

Dreamer had a fiddle, sis. It was beautiful. A very well crafted instrument, and cared for with the same obsessive attention the rest of his instruments are. Brought back memories. I remember you and I together. You would play and I would sing… and for a few moments… the rot was gone and it was just music. Thought moments like that died with you, Seraphim… I really did.

Unrehearsed and spontaneous, he plucked the accompaniment for the waltz right out of the music. All he had ever heard was me hum it a few times, and sing it once. His cues were subtle, and in all honesty, there were moments I forgot I was supposed to be singing. I couldn’t tell you about Knots and Goddess dancing… because I missed it. Completely. His fiddle, my voice… and there was only the music. When we finished, we each stood in silent admiration of the other… it truly was beautiful. It isn’t often that two performers mesh so well on a spur of the moment thing.

Overall, the evening was successful. Everyone had a good time. Though Knots is hoping for love, and Goddess is hoping for… continued friendship. Such is the way of the world. Romance is a tricky thing, and there are more losers than winners. Still, if Knots calms down a bit, it could add to the friendship they have long before it even touches on romance.

There have been several moments in the last few days, where play on words and amusement at the idiots comes readily. Dreamer and I have spent hours outwitting the ‘adventurous fools’ that show up at the little camp just south of the bridge. It amuses me greatly… some moments more than others. Like when that idiot elf let me throw daggers at him and his magically created copies. I was going to hit all the copies first… and then the stupid elf… but he wouldn’t hold still. I got the first four copies… leaving two to stare down at him when I daggered his leg and he fell to the dirt. I -told- the fool to hold still or he would get hurt…

Then, come to find out, Cutie has an evil twin… or at least a less nice, more piggish, arse of a twin. Apparently he had been masquerading around as Cutie all day. Well of course when I called him cutie, he thought that entitled him to something… At first I just thought he had gotten brave, and then I knew better. Voice and accent were different up close… And then once the cloak of magic and the hood was out of the way, the differences, subtle, but apparent.

Can’t lie to a liar. I will admit…it was a crafty trick. If I didn’t like Cutie for who he was, and consider him a friend… It might not have pissed me off… the fact that the idiot continued to lie to me… well that just pissed me off more. And I really hate him. Especially when the -real- Cutie showed up shortly after the imposter left… and I almost made that adorable little Elf cry. I mean it, sis… I had my dagger pointed at him, and wasn’t being at all nice… and he was nearly in tears. He thought I hated him. How could I possibly hate that adorable, blushing Elf?

Got that smoothed over, and got to punch the imposter once too. Trouble and her boyfriend or whatever he is… can’t think of his name… Think I will call him Acorn since he is always throwing them at Trouble or getting hit by Trouble with him. So yeah, Trouble and Acorn had him pinned up for whatever reason. Were going to do gods know what to him, and the Imposter had the nerve to ask me for help, then call me a wench when I didn’t… So I knocked him one and told him if he caused more trouble for me or for my friends, I would take his tongue… be able to tell them apart that way…

The do-good types got a little huffy over us beating up the ‘poor defenseless elf’, but seeing as I was honest about what happened, and talked Trouble and Acorn out of trouble, Imposter into more trouble, and made a show at being a good sport… Guard was on my side and sent the little idiot imposter to the inn with his tail tucked between his legs. It was terribly amusing. Next time I see the Imposter… he is dead… plain and simple. Cutie is too willing to do right by me… I don’t need the few friends I have in trouble for some idiot’s pocket. Bastard. Cutie doesn’t need that sort of rot hanging off of him anyway. And I don’t care if they are long lost twin brothers. If the idiot wants to live he better become useful before I see him again. I will kill him. Period. Some how, for all the trouble he has caused him, I doubt Cutie will mind much.

Other than that, it has been nice. Dreamer and I spend a lot of time together. He is really serious about that cottage some day. Remember the joke about him catching me a unicorn? Well he had that Tristan fellow carve me one from rose wood. Stands about nine inches tall and about six across. It is exquisitely detailed. Reared up on her hind legs with her mane and tail billowing in some unseen wind. Right down to her irises. It sets on the mantle in Dreamer’s room at the Mask. Figure she is safe there. I named her Nightmare.

I still don’t like going there much… been a couple of times. Reminds me too much of the Dive. A cleaner version minus harlots, gutter rats, and scum-of-the-dirt-piles-of -rot, but it is also big… and so empty. The echoes carry oddly in the acoustics of it, and the shadows dance oddly. Sorrow seeps from the walls… and something else… but I couldn’t name it if I were faced with it. I am sure, in its heyday it was a grand place full of laughter and performances, even people. But now it just seems… lifeless and forgotten.

Dreamer is attached to it though… perhaps when the dust in Waterdeep settles, I can help him bring it back to life? Though I wonder… It rose from the ashes once already… and with things like a pool and all those rooms? It is more like a Dive or an inn than a theater. Even the dinning area could pass as competition for the Helm and Cloak. Could be pretty profitable if whoever owned it ran it as an inn, tavern AND a theater. Dinner and a show and after that, you could take the pretty girl some place nice and quiet… They could make a killing!

I know… rambling… sorry. You are probably wondering why I am writing on and on… when in all truth, I know you really want to know why I am hiding in Candlekeep. Well, seems the place’s wards are handy at keeping mother dear and the others away… And I made the mistake of trying to push when I should have just stayed put. So… let me start from the beginning of the mess.

Dreamer and I had decided to go find some trouble to cut into as the sun set. We were walking south, the banter was light, the innuendo barely hidden, the moon was brilliant, the stars seemed to smile. Remember what I said about the calm before the storm being proportioned to the storm itself? Well mother had been awful quiet lately…

Dreamer and I were discussing how I hated snakes… and dogs, as we cut through some Gnolls near the place where that Gnome is going to build his inn. Dreamer smarted off about me getting back to my more hateful roots. He is right… I had calmed down a bit. Dropped my angry defense, but my mood had been odd lately, and the need for an angry defense was more readily available. Interacting with idiots will do that… for a while they were protected from my sharp wit and dagger by nice dinners and wine. Her voice cut through my cheer and my thoughts, just as we reached the Lion’s Way.

‘Dark roads and dark places, hmmm?’

She sounded so damned close…

‘It’s a nice night.’

Now she was right in my ear…

‘What? miss me?’

HA! Missed her like a plague! Stupid wench.

‘Well, I had grown used to our little chats.’

‘Comp'ny?’

I nodded to him as she whispered in my ear.

‘Grown used to them? Then perhaps I haven't had enough of them with you.’

‘Shoul' we 'ead back t' th' Gate?’

‘Candlekeep maybe…’

‘Aye, let's go 'en.’

I sighed and nodded. We walked along. Dreamer watching my back while my focus was split. Occasionally I was aware of his hand in mine, and his gentle encouragements. In the back of my mind, and no doubt in his… we waited for the flames. We walked along, preparing ourselves for the choking pain. My anger boiled. My frustration… I thought I knew what I was walking into… I had no idea. None.

‘Not that way, mother… in the … ‘oh where has she been lately’ sort of used to… Was afraid you didn't hate me anymore.’

The sarcasm dripped from my thoughts like a soaking rain.

‘Don't concern yourself in that, Songbird. It hasn't ended.’

Of course not. You were still talking…

‘Though I wish I knew why you hated me to begin with…'

‘We've been over that, Songbird. Are you experiencing memory loss?’

‘Yes yes… you died… I mean BEFORE that…’

Stupid, stupid harlot!

‘That doesn't matter anymore, really. Dying tends to focus one's priorities.’

‘I would imagine… too bad it didn't properly focus them.’

‘Becoming complacent in life these days?’

‘Complacent?’

The looming structure of the library fortress beckoned to us just up the way. A mist crawled through the cool air and danced over the cliff edges. It seemed to fold around me and pull me forward to the keep. The Lady’s gentle guidance… and I was too stubborn to heed it.

‘Mmhmm…. expecting nothing to happen to you…’

‘Never said that… Just waiting for you lot to show up and play…’

We stepped into Candlekeep. Gregor and I discussed the differences between the temple and the inn… and we planned to find Bookworm. Mother, on the other hand had gone quiet… I piqued my curiosity. Could it be the wards kept her out? Kept me safe from her?

I inched back out onto the misty causeway. I could hear no sounds other than the baying of … dogs… and not natural dogs… not wolves… My sensitive ears twitching as I tried to place the reality of the sound that assaulted my ears so clearly. At some point Trouble and Acorn had joined us, and were regarding me like I was crazy. I was barely aware of anything… Focused ahead of me… and these… Dogs… not dogs I had ever seen anything like before. Gregor said they looked like Hell hounds. Nearly damned well killed Dreamer and I.

We ran back into the keep’s gates… and the dogs vanished. Goddess showed up and the whole lot of them were confused. Worried about me for some reason… people really care, sis. I may never get used to it. I was too worried about those dogs. I hate dogs… Ever since I was little. That big mutt that took off with my dinner for the week after nearly well taking my damned hand. Bloody mutts. I hated these dogs worse… they were big, hellish monstrosities. And they weren’t interested in my dinner.

Goddess barely saw them before they disappeared… and she could very faintly hear them… If I didn’t know better, I would think they were just on the other side of the damned gate. Trouble and Acorn went out, and there was … nothing there. Surprise! Goddess went out… said she could hear them down the road and was worried about them hurting other people. I knew better… but I followed them out on the causeway… and down to the road… slowly. I could hear her laughing. My dear -sweet, loving- mother… laughing at me. I felt so gods damned loved!

Maybe a half a dozen hounds… and these came with devils. Easily enough dispatched but not before they took down Dreamer. So here I was dragging him back to Candlekeep, Goddess, Acorn and Trouble… and now some other wizard who wanted to help following behind, asking bloody questions I didn’t have time to answer, and Trouble and Goddess were arguing.

‘I hate dogs!’

‘Awww… now that is cheating. You have too many friends.’

I could almost see the pout drawn on her face… and it made me want to laugh as I kicked in her gods damned teeth. Stupid Wench.

‘Too many friends? Jealous? Like you were playing fair to begin with!’

The others looked confused at my outburst, except for Dreamer, who had grown used to them. Used to them… Bloody Hells.

‘Playing fair? Songbird… rules do not apply to -me-.’

Yeah… I know… like the rules about dead people -Staying DEAD-. Rules about mothers -loving- their daughters… I know. Nine bloody hells take you, I know! I cursed rather creatively as we trudged back up the causeway. Occasionally we fought more dogs and devils… and I continued to drag Dreamer up the road to the keep, as well as I could. We dispatched a particularly nasty group of devils and dogs… which didn’t make her happy.

‘Awww… now I will have to search farther a field for allies.’

How cliché… the toxin-riddled, lazy, burned up, withered harlot had devils in her proverbial bed. We finally made it back to the gates of the keep, and once again, Mother fell silent. I now had a gaggle of folks thinking I was a witch, or something, and then they all wanted to help… Even Trouble and Acorn… but I didn’t have the heart to put Trouble at risk for my sake… even if she genuinely wanted to. I was livid. One prison for another… they wanted me to stay in the keep… and no one could find Bookworm. Just my damned luck.

Stubbornly, I went back out… against the urgings of the mist… And my own better judgment. I tried to needle her, but that didn’t happen. She smarted off and got quiet. So we stood, near the cliffs and discussed the issues. No mistake about it, sis… wizards are odd. All of them. Goddess and the wizard were going on and on about my mother being a demon or some rot… Mind you, I don’t doubt she is in the most loosely figurative sense, a demon… but this was amusing. Dreamer had moved to my side, and had his arm around my waist as we all talked. I laughed at the seriousness with which I was quickly becoming some demon-spawned hellcat.

A caress… almost gentle on my ear and my cheek as a honeyed whisper reached my ear… and it was disturbingly close. It stilled me to the very core of my being. I stiffened and gritted my teeth. All the honey in the realms couldn’t hide the disgusting, rotted, filth of the man that spoke, unseen into my ear.

‘Hello again, Songbird.’

I batted the hand away furiously, only for it to offer an almost loving touch to the other cheek… Almost. I bit back bile as Cale spoke into my other ear now. Right behind Dreamer and I… my mind’s eye was kind enough to fill in the blanks. The image of the muscled brute standing there… for the briefest second as his hand ran down my cheek to my chin, and turned my head slightly into the whispered words…

‘Awww… c'mon, girlie, give us a kiss.’

I drew my dagger… a biting retort on my lips, and ready to strike as soon as I knew where. In the next instance I was pulled to him in an all too familiar way, for a kiss that offered me all of his pent up lust and hate… Dreamer stepped back quickly as I drew my blade up in a deadly arc in front of me, and tried to push the unseen mass of a man off of me. I stepped back, readying my dagger for a second arch through the nothingness, when I felt his hand on my arse. Same old song and dance… His moves always the same, and so predictable usually. Had I not been chocking on bile, and had he actually been there… I might have actually taken the bastard’s hand.

To my utter fury and disgust… my blade found only air. I was suddenly wishing I had eaten something today, take the edge of the acid that burned at the back of my throat. The anger was almost blinding. I swore and cursed in a manner to make Umberlee proud as I fumbled with a wand. I was shaking… the wizard watched curiously, Dreamer was doing his damnedest to not to get sliced to bits, and Goddess was kicking the air in front of me with all the force her little frame could offer. Fortunately the wand worked…

‘Bugger. Covered yourself in a don't touch me', eh? You learnin’ some new tricks, ain't ya?’

Bastard. Bloody, Fecking, pile of shite, -bastard-!

‘You rotted pile of filth! Why didn't you stay in pieces?!’

‘C'mon, girlie, I have a piece for you…’

I spat. I wanted to gargle scalding water and flay my skin off… and even then I didn’t know if it was enough to wash his filth off…

‘Keep it to your gods damned self!’

He laughed crudely.

‘Pieces Cale, not a piece… never were very bright. Fecking arse! You still fecking taste like rot, Cale. Bastard!’

I swear, Seraphim… he might as well have been there. I felt him, smelled him… -tasted- his lips on my own… Sure in the hells heard him. I just couldn’t bloody see him… or kill him.

‘Awww… I can give you another taste, when that thing drops…’

He was enjoying this… there aren’t words to encompass the depth of my anger and disgust.

‘Then I guess I just won’t let it drop. Handsy pile of shite!’

I clung to that wand that Goddess’ brother had given Platinum to give to me… like it was my last thread of hope, because it was in a way… Kept the bastard’s hands off of me… for now.

‘I can show you handsy if you want, girlie.’

‘No thanks… showed me plenty already… surely you have found some amusing little harlot to keep your arse busy hmmm?’

Not that I would wish it on anyone who didn’t deserve it or want it… but I sure in the nines didn’t!

‘Nah… you are the -most- amusing Harlot I've ever seen, oh yes.’

‘I feel so gods damned special…’

I spat again… still trying not to vomit. Why in the hells did I have to be the favorite? All the courtesans and harlots in the realms and he couldn’t find one -willing- to take his coin and show him a good time? No he had to use some bloody wizard’s trick. How in the hells were the three lack wits even managing all this rot? A withered lotus harlot and the pimp and his muscle? What in the Nine damned hells was going on?!

‘Besides, I'm sort of stuck with ya, now. Yer ma is pissed at you now… she didn't say it, but oh, yes…’

‘Stuck with me? because she is pissed… oh by all means… since when did you ever listen to the women-folk Cale?’

Not that there was time to answer. I heard mother’s voice chanting just up over the hill. There was a flash of light and then a bloody Balor, big as a house… come ambling towards us. Not supposed to remember the moments before you die, sis… but I guess I am special… apparently they can restore memories and rape me without me being able to do more than hide behind spells.

I came too in a crowd of folk. They had found Gregor and the wizard and I, dead and burned, badly… Thank the gods… Goddess had gone to find anything that might have helped. We didn’t stand a chance against the Balor. A flick of its wrist and the other two were dead and charred before I could breathe. Dreamer had grabbed my hand and tried to run toward the keep… the wizard tried to fight it. Both of them burned up on the spot. It looked at me, its face twisting in a horrid looking grin as it drew me close to it… I burned every inch of the way… It really brought to light the reality of mother’s illusion.

It felt exactly as I did as the creature grinned down at me… I remember it holding my writhing frame in its massive clawed hand, and as the darkness of death settled around me… it threw me aside with a laugh, and disappeared. Everything hurt… so much… then all that remained was pain… searing pain… blackness and the laughter of Cale, Anders and my dear, precious mother.

The same laughter that came from the darkness around us now… it was quite a crowd of folks. The wizard remarked about mother dearest… and the others were trying to figure out where the Balor had come from… Dreamer was extending our gratitude and people were trying to figure out what was going on… I felt them all looking to me… I wondered if they judged me… blamed me. If they would still be so quick to help the murdering harlot I was…

‘Do you remember anything?’

One of the strangers asked… and I looked to him confused.

‘I remember…’

Before I could answer that I didn’t remember, a voice echoed through my head.

‘You forgot… let's not have that…’

They laughed as the memories crashed down on me violently… knocking me to the ground… again I fought the urge to vomit. I remembered every horrid moment… every minute detail… every whisper, every touch… the very lick flame and the curl of my flesh as it actually burned… I remembered dying. It was dizzying. Terrifying. The barren landscape I found before me and the blinding flash of light as my very essence tumbled through the planes back to the body it had left behind… It sent me reeling. I struggled to see the stars… Struggled to focus as my mind worked to sort all the sensations that accosted me at once.

Dreamer kept my hair back as my stomach emptied… Mother’s sing-song voice in my ear. A grating backdrop to my pain and shuddering thought.

‘Mmm… how pleasant… Mother loves you, Songbird, little Songbird…’

I choked. Love? This is what she calls love? The darkness seemed to shift and chatter to itself, they laughed and faded… gone as my anger rose and my stomach no longer offered all it contained… perhaps because there was nothing left… They asked me to show them where the Balor was summoned, and I did. My instincts telling me to distance myself from the others. Well meaning strangers and tentative friends alike, and Dreamer was telling me to let them help… that they know what they are getting into.

Why do I even care? I have never given a damn about anyone before… why start now? Because I see now, that you were right. And if I don’t know what I am getting into or up against how can they…? Mother is right… I have many friends these days, and it isn’t so bad actually. Honest.

The group hobbled to the library fortress… the monastery that beckoned again through the mist… the mists that urged me forward, seeming to hasten my every step… and this time… I went as The Lady bid… without argument or complaint. There was more talk, but I was too angry to focus on it… and five bottles of wine later… I was again trying to keep my stomach in one place, calm my nerves and wash the day from my senses…

The inn keep seems to have no problem with us sitting here… and I am getting tired… not to mention I am drunk right off my arse… Maybe I can talk to Bookworm in the morning… I know one thing… Need to see about more of these wands made up for those I care about… I’ll keep my promise, sis… providing it doesn’t kill me first. Then I will keep my other promise and find that happy ever after you wanted me to.
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-ONE]

It had to happen sooner or later. No such thing as happy ever after, sis. Hells… Getting pretty damned close… Which is why Cale has to come along and remind me… I am not even sure what I am doing anymore, much less what in the Nines I am supposed to do next. Rather disconcerting. I always had a plan. Always had a way to twist the rules in my favor. Always had a trick or two to keep the upper hand. Now… I am losing ground and clinging to a dream.

It had been a pleasant month or so. I have to say, I like having a warm place to sleep at night and enough coins in my pocket to take care of what I need, and still have enough left over to listen to. I had worried about the quiet, honest. Started to even hope that they had gotten bored, and assuming they aren’t dead, that they found some new pretty thing to amuse themselves with… Gods be with her…

Dreamer is a constant challenge. Never bored and deliciously insatiable. Sometimes, sis… there is a quiet moment that floors me. He really cares, and I may never get used to that. He is so… unattached. I envy his -freedom- and I relish his attention. Its an intoxicating rush to know I have his attention so. To know that a look or a whisper later I could rule his thoughts… more than that though, I’ve seen him hang on more than just lust. He gets -absorbed- by the poetry, or the look on his face at the end of a song… I used to enjoy tugging the strings. Control that men are so fond of surrendering for a toss and tumble, but emotions, Seraphim… That is the real game. Addictive and dangerous. Because to play, you risk as much as you gain. So why haven’t I broken his heart and walked away? The bloody fools line up, and sometimes Dreamer makes it so easy…

Because I want to believe you are right, sis. I want to believe there is more than unhappy endings. More than lust and broken hearts. With Dreamer? It almost seems possible. So gods damned close… Then Cale has to come along and spoil the fun. Bastard. In an instant, a pleasant evening of conversation, banter, word games, innuendo and veiled threats and allusions to this or that, turns to rot. Happy Ever After, gets skewed… by a touch from a hand I have yet to escape.

It was gentle at first, the way he always was. And no matter how hard we tried, sis, we would still flinch, because we knew damned well what was next… did I flinch? I can’t remember. He always was good at pushing buttons. Not the good ones either.

‘Hello, darlin'…’

His thick drawl cut through the conversations and thoughts like it was a shout in a silent room, though it was little more than a whisper in my ear. I bristled, jumped. Pretty sure I said something unladylike, drew my dagger… but there wouldn’t be anything to stab. Nothing to fight. So began an old song and dance…

‘What's wrong, Songbird?’

I moved to dodge a hand, for all the bloody good it did me, the taunting pinch landing all the same.

‘C'mon, sweetness…’

If I could -do- something… I wouldn’t resort to bloody anger. Backed into the damned corner… Did what I could, the only thing I could.

‘Pike the Nines off.’

That earned me a slap in short order.

‘You have a pretty mouth… but too much venom.’

I wonder why in the -Hells- that is…

‘So be nice, or it won’t go good for you, girlie.’

Won’t go good?! How in the fecking hells could it go much worse? I remember thinking that. Maybe I shouldn’t have. See… the problem with curiosity is, it leads to questions… and the trouble with questions is… They get answered.

‘Ye wan' 'ead t' a temple, 'r ye gon' ride 't out w' a crowd?’

I looked at the crowd. A blessing and a curse no matter how this worked out… Cornered.

‘Safety ‘n Numbers…’

I nodded.

‘Your pretty boy here is a bit on the stupid side, isn't he?’

Mine? HA! Maybe. And once again I couldn’t help but think how much smarter Dreamer was than Cale’s rotted arse. Cale… was jealous. Just to be safe though… got out the wand.

‘His attitude might improve a bit if I kill him…’

He kept talking… I used the wand, and he just kept talking.

‘A bit of poison, maybe? It seems poetic, don't it?’

The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, the implied promise… the reminder what this was really about. Revenge. Dreamer took my hand in his. Anchored. Clinging to a Dream.

‘In a crowd of people? Now who is being a twit?’

There was of course, the ever present reminder that a crowd of people wouldn’t possibly be more than fodder, on the other hand… it beat the hells out of what Cale would do… if I was alone. I shuddered. Was vaguely aware of the crowd and the conversations… I would take my chances with a group. I didn’t want to be mean to him, but I was struck by the very real worry that Cale would do something to him to shut him up, so … I beat him to the punch.

‘Dreamer… shut up a minute.’

‘Aye…’

‘You think I care about that, girlie? Damn… you must have gotten stupid too. What in the Nines are they gonna do to me that hasn't been done already?’

I could think of a few things… And a couple I -really- really wanted to try out. Painful ones.

‘Make sure you stay dead this time? Brilliant start, I think.’

‘Keep talkin', bouncy cheeks, they'll be sure to think you are crazier than you are…’

Sure, because they didn’t already. I -hate- that… almost more than -Songbird-. Bastard. Never the less… it was prudent to … not be so loud. Lest I scare the group off. So I shut up, sure Cale loved it… Taptaptaptap goes the dagger, the blade making a very real and very comforting sound.

‘That dagger your new security blanket? Won't do shite to me, sweetness.’

It did before…

‘It will do enough if you get close enough… stop hiding like a coward.’

I shifted my grip on the dagger… -Wishing- for something to strike. My mind wandered over the memory of taking Cale’s own dagger… and killing him with it… and carving him into pieces with it…

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap…

It did before… it would again. I’d take his eyes, so he couldn’t watch again… Take his tongue to shut him up… but only after I took his hands, a piece at a time… and fed them to him… so he could Never… touch me again.

Taptaptaptaptap…

Bastard.

‘So you think a dagger'll be doin' a thing to me? Girlie, that's just dumb.’

He laughed.

‘No one lives forever, Cale and even the dead can die…’

Again. I swore, poor Knots’ ears.

‘Lady, calm down.’

I became aware of an idiot. Smiles a bit too wide… eyes linger a bit too long… Jake looked at him and told him to be quiet. For some reason the idiot was nervous about my dagger… And for some odd reason I was in a really bad mood. Knots told the idiot to leave it be… But you know how idiots are… And I snapped.

‘Either shut the hells up, or let me stab you since I can't stab the one who deserves it… otherwise, pike off.’

‘You would die before you knew it!’

I eyed him… briefly considered if he would be doing me a favor… If he could. Bastard. I wanted to see him dance. I wanted to see blood… preferably Cale’s… but with every pinch and poke and prod… I was starting not to care, and so pissed off, it didn’t even matter. The idiot drew his sword. I just sat there… and smiled. Jake drew his own swords… leave it to the Chivalrous to ruin my fun.

‘Put it down, or I’ll put you down.’

‘Be calm Jake. It's his move to make.’

Good old Knots. I waited.

Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…

To my utter disappointment, rather than move to strike, the idiot just stood there like an idiot. And then the guards interrupted and he put his sword away…

Taptaptaptaptap…

Hells. Still… it was sweet. So I looked at Jake, deciding… for all the ire that might have come before, he was a good one to have in a scrap, and I did appreciate the sentiment.

‘Thanks sugar… but I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl… lace my own boots and everything.’

Dreamer calmly patted my hand and stood. Idiot kept rattling on about wanting to help and fruit juice or some rot. Dreamer regarded him venomously and spoke.

‘Ye e'er… -e'er- s' much 'a make a thought about contemplatin' a veiled 'threat 'gainst m' lass 'gain, an' ye'll 'ave yer drinks spillin' out th' 'oles in yer chest…’

I almost smiled. Loved him… Hopeless dreamer that he was.

‘Take care of yourself, huh? That why you got the pretty boy there?’

‘Because he amuses me.’

My tone was flat as Dreamer stepped closer to the idiot to make his point… the sudden distance worried me, and my worry was rewarded with a pinch on my arse… Through the bench, sis… Gods damned Cale.

‘Oh, I can be imaginin'…’

As much as I was sure the bastard watched? I am sure there was little to his twisted imagination… and the thought made me want to vomit. Instead, I moved, swift and sure, to cut at the arm that I found reaching for me. Only to find little more than air to slice through. I unleashed a string of curses fit to make the dockhands blush…

‘Oh, now -that's- my girl!’

Song and dance… Cale was laughing… to the left. I hate him, sis, HATE… and that puts it mildly.

‘I am not your gods damned -anything-!’

He laughed… and it faded. Gregor moved back, having somehow made peace with the idiot. Acorn was making peace with some crazy sort… Gnome and Knots were… observing, silent support… Jake just… waited for something to stab… Slowly, I let myself calm. Prayed by all the mists that Cale had gotten bored. I sat there, and fumed… quietly indignant that I couldn’t do anything… Dreamer squeezed my hand. I took more comfort in that little gesture than he could ever realize. I know he felt as helpless in this as I did… but I took comfort in it anyway. He was there… He wasn’t leaving. No matter what Cale said. I wasn’t aware that I was gritting my teeth so hard until Cale had the good graces to say something.

‘You'll break your teeth doing that, Songbird. And you'll sing funny.’

Right… so… once I was sure he couldn’t move to get away… He would eat his hands and maybe one or two other pieces… loose his tongue… I would knock out his teeth for spite, gouge out his eyes, and then choke him to death on them. Perfect… now I just needed to be able to -stab- him.

‘I wouldn’t sing for you if it was my Swan Song.’

Tap. . . Tap… Tap-tap taptaptaptap…

Bastard. Sodding, fecking, pile of shite Bastard!

‘You won't sing for -me-?’

So he was jealous of Dreamer. That made me smile. A little.

‘I -won't- sing for you, -ever again-.’

He laughed.

‘Glad you are so Bloody Amused.’

I couldn’t have been more insincere if I had to be.

‘You've always amused me, sweetness.’

‘Dun' let'em get t'ye luv…’

Anchored. Tapping away at the dagger, each click becoming a representation of every ill memory I had… just of Cale… and a counting of every thing… I would do… if I could just see the bastard bleed.

‘Yer boy there ain't too bright, is 'e?’

The cheesy imitation of Dreamer, boiled my blood.

‘Pike off, Cale.’

‘Can't. Your stuck with me. Don't think I like the idea all that much myself, but until I can figure out how to touch you proper like…’

The insinuation hung there, suspended, sort of like the bile in the back of my throat.

‘Like you ever did anything -proper-! You won't -ever- touch me proper like. Ever. You get that close, and I will make sure you stay sodding dead this time. I promise.’

‘You won't have any choice… at all…’

‘Had the -choice- the moment I left Waterdeep. I intend to keep it.’

‘You won't be free forever.’

‘Like Hells. I'll remember that when I watch your soul get dragged back to the lower planes where it shoudl have stayed.’

He ran a hand down my cheek, ever so gently… So sweetly… as he whispered. I wanted to flay my skin off. And burn it. Repeatedly.

‘I'll find you another cage, girlie… lined with silk… and blood.’

Such sweet promises… May I choke and rot instead.

‘You just try, Cale!’

‘There wont' be a try, Songbird. The studies go well, and it -will- happen. Like what happened to your boy toy there… when he was stone.’

He laughed… and I smiled, though I wanted to vomit. Studies. I just had to be quicker. If an idiot like Cale could learn new tricks… so could I. So could I. And I had a wand for situations like what happened when they turned Dreamer to stone.

‘And I don't care if you lined the gods damned cage with the finest things in the gods damned world, you can still pike the bloody hells off!’

‘I did mention blood as well as silk… and you will learn so much in the eternity I'll have you.’

‘You -won't- have me -anywhere- much less eternity! The only blood that will line my paths will be yours. I’ll get ahead of your -studies-. You’ll see.’

‘And you will lose… Talking won't help you, bouncy cheeks. Every day I grow stronger…’

He wasn’t the only one who could learn… and I never lose. Still… his constant pinching and slapping was getting on my nerves. So again, if only to ease my own frustration, blade and body moved in a deadly fluidity, and I swore. For lack of a better thing to do, when the dagger found no purchase in flesh, and my own bloodlust went un-slaked… I threw the dagger, and watched as it sank midway up the blade into the cold, trodden earth near my feet.

As I contemplated the difference between flaying, burning, or scalding my skin off, occasionally swearing to peel paint from canvas… the briefest thought crossed my mind… Dead. Better off dead. But that seemed too easy, and hardly worth the respite. To my horror though, the dagger… -moved- as Cale laughed… like he almost picked it up… Bloody Hells. What were the three of them up to?! He doesn’t get the damned dagger back until I have carved him up with it. I promised you, sis… both of them dead. Me happy. No dying. I am keeping my promise. Cale and Anders will die, and I will learn happy ever after… If I don’t go crazy first.

I snatched the dagger up for spite. Taptaptaptaptaptaptap… A dance of sorts… I was so mad, I was blind. Back and forth, the glint of firelight on the blade… Cale laughing… Fecking pile of rot. I was tired of dancing with a partner I couldn’t kill. So I sat down again. I was tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of Cale. Tired of Anders. Tired of my dear sweet mother. I wanted them dead. Beyond dead, if I could find a way.

‘You still move soooo sweetly, Songbird.’

More bile. I could see his eyes on me… Feel them, and I wanted to choke him on them so badly…

‘I wonder if you will still think its so sweet when you are holding your own intestines, Cale. Since you obviously don't remember the last time…’

‘Experience helps, girlie. And this time you'll be in chains.’

‘Chains?! Like HELLS. Like the bloody, gods damned, Nine Fecking -Hells-!’

‘Chains, yes. Among other things…’

I wanted to wretch. I would die first. I would not go back to being the lowest of Waterdeep’s low’s favorite harlot… I would not go back to Cale… I would not go back to Anders. Someone would die… and since I had a promise to keep… it wasn’t about to be me. Maybe burning all of Waterdeep to the ground would help…

‘Your cheeks get nice and rosy when you get angry…’

His hand touched my cheek again… it was almost lovingly, if not for the fact that Cale was incapable, and his every touch made me want to forcibly remove my own skin…

‘Get the Hells off of me!’

I swiped at the hand, vaguely aware of the pain as the blade meant for Cale grazed my skin… The adrenaline had me reeling, the anger had me seething… the blood that trailed from the small cut went unnoticed.

‘Lass, ye gotta calm down… He innit 'ere…’

I heard Dreamer’s words the same time that I heard Cale’s… and there was nothing I could do.

‘Now… give us a kiss, girlie… ‘

The smell of cheap, soured ale and sweat was overpowering… As much as I would like to think he -wasn’t there- … His hand yanked my hair, pulling my head around. If hate could be given a touch… it would be that kiss. Desperately I clawed at nothing. I slashed… at nothing… and when he pushed me away from him… there was nothing there… but his laughter as I turned and wretched. There was cursing even I didn’t know I was capable of as I drained the bottle of wine desperate to … ugh… Gods, Seraphim…

‘I'll visit you again shortly, darlin'… don't hurt yourself… Much…’

Amid my attempts to calm down, and a brief plan to blow Waterdeep off the face of the realms… Was my attempt to burn the useless wand that was no longer protecting me, Gnome rescued the wand, Knots had to leave, Platinum and Goddess showed up, Gnome agreed to work on some scrolls that might help a bit with Cale and the others… I was desperate to calm down. I was half afraid that I would take it out on Dreamer… and he didn’t deserve that. Slowly… So very slowly… the blur of rage cleared.

I sat on the bench, silent, still. Suffocating… Drowning… I wanted to scream. Dreamer wrapped me in his arms, and the others wrapped me in spells… I was afraid to move. Afraid to open my eyes and see Anders sneering down at me… or worse… Afraid to close them and remember… Sorry sis… I envied you for your place between the moonbeams, safe among the stars. Safe… Love is the Mistshadow’s most carefully crafted illusion… her most brilliant… and I relished it… Safety? Safe was such a fleeting illusion that it no doubt gave her pause. A liar, after all… is never completely safe from the truth… The truth is never entirely safe from the work of deception… I prayed, maybe even begged for her to reveal the illusion that Cale and Anders and Mother hid behind… I never was her most faithful, but I asked her cloak all the same.

In answer, the mists swirled across the ground… the stars danced behind a thin veil of clouds… amid it all… Selune… brilliant in her own right. Dreamer whispered softly. Losing my mind… and I held onto a Dream… figuratively and literally… for dear life.

‘We'll get'em luv…. An' 'en w' do, we'll make 'em pay 'n blood b' th' gallon… He'll nae lay a han' on ye 'long 'a I draw breath luv.. Nae one will…’

He may as well have… and it wasn’t Dreamer’s fault… still my words came harshly as I sought something… anything… but it was like grasping at the mist.

‘Just did Dreamer… until we figure out how… He will. Not your fault… Gods damn it all! I love you… and he is going to damned well kill you for it.’

‘Like feckin' 'ells 'e is…’

A small comfort… but I took it.

‘Nothin', 'specially sommun' who's 'ntire claim t' fame 's 'at 'e's a bleedin' pimps brother, 's gon' lay m' in m' grave, lass… An' 'en' I get 'old 'o 'im, Umberlee's gon' 'ave a nice li'l playting f'r all th' 'e's put ye through…’

I gathered them up like fragile bits of starlight…

‘Sommat I c'n do t' make ye feel better luv?’

‘Not sure, Dreamer. You care. That matters… a lot’

‘Jus' wish w' coul' take th' fight t' 'em…’

Again, I saw all of Waterdeep burning to the ground… Every piece of filth in the City of Splendid Rot, screaming and withering away. Burn off the rot… Make something better of whatever is left. Phoenix. Crimson Phoenix.

‘S' bleedin' killin' m' worse 'en th' flames an' the' 'ellhounds. Sittin 'ere an' cannae d' a damned thing…’

‘I know… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say or do… That is the point, to drive us insane… and apparently torture me for eternity… but that won't happen.’

‘Shoul' take th' fight t' 'em, I still say…’

If only it were that simple. Anders is a pile of rot… but he isn’t dumb enough to stay in Waterdeep. Besides, if he was there… I would know unless I am being lied to. Gods help him if I find out he lied to me. They will beg -me- … all of them. And anyone who helps them will find a kinder fate in the Abyss.

‘B' some bloody feckin' justice t' g' t' 'ere li'l pit 'ey're hidin' in, kick th' bleedin' door down, an' stick yer blades 'ere th' sun dun' shine… ‘

I smiled. Gods I loved him… He filled my mind with such -beautiful- pictures now… And that was just the beginning. I had so many -wonderful- things I wanted to show Cale. Anders. Mother. Ending with how to stay bloody well dead.

‘Luv ye, lass…’

His finger traced the cut on my cheek, and I was very aware of something… The hand, the why… the intention… make a very real, very distinct difference. I surrounded my thoughts in those differences. Pushed away Cale and everything he was, which wasn’t much… and relished in the fact that I was loved. That not every hand that touched me meant harm, and Seraphim? I wished you could understand it… I miss you sis… So much. All we ever had was each other, but I can be content that you are safe, beyond reach of Cale and the others. Lady Guard You… and guard you well…

Conversations rolled about, and it seemed I was in the clear for a bit. Dreamer started to doze off, I was still waiting for Gnome to finish the work on the scrolls I had paid him for, so I let him go rest. Platinum was there still, and a few others, it had been nice and quiet for at least an hour or two. I asked if souls could make those kinds of deals that Platinum had been talking about, after death… and Platinum’s answer… wasn’t heard so clearly as Cale’s:

‘Who said anything about doing it after death, sweetheart?’

‘Because you were dead, I made sure of that…’

I glared at the dagger resting in my lap.

‘That's a useless little trinket, but keep it if you like…’

He practically hissed like a snake as he -licked- the cut on my cheek. I couldn’t tell you what was said… but it wasn’t nice… His laughter became the backdrop to the other’s concerns, until Gnome cast a spell, telling me to save the scroll I was struggling to read. My nearly forgotten anger from earlier, crashed into my thoughts and shattered reason like so many shards of glass. Still… the relief from further assault was welcome… I may not be too fond of wizards, sis… but they can be -very- useful.

Once the others had tossed enough spells on me to make a chandelier jealous, Platinum and I talked a bit. One about the very real, and entirely more likely possibility… that as much as I wished they were… they were not dead. Seems the fact that they -were- dead is pretty moot at this point… and my insistence otherwise isn’t doing much good. He then asked about scrying… which then moved along to talk of wizards and of trust. Before I knew it, the length of the magic had run its due course… and a hand ran up my back.

‘Now that just wasn't nice… Maybe, when I get that dagger back, I'll gut him, too.’

Great… see this is why I don’t ask for help, sis. It causes trouble for people. I wouldn’t be willing to do so much for folks… much less die… so what the hells right do I have to ask it of them? Though truly… I would… do a lot more for a lot of these folks… than I am willing to admit to.

‘Oh, you'll get the dagger back alright…’

I smarted off to the voice over my shoulder.

‘I have other plans for the dagger, pretty.’

A finger snaked across the nape of my neck at a disgustingly slow pace, up and followed the line of my jaw. I clenched my teeth. I was not going to fall back into the old habit of sitting idle and letting him do what he damned will pleased… but it’s difficult to fight a battle such as this when you don’t know what is going on, don’t know the rules, and have absolutely no high ground. My hand took up the dagger, I coiled… Just needed to know where to strike…

‘You do need a bit of re-education, you know.’

I flinched as the finger moved just beneath my earlobe, making small, painfully slow, and entirely too deliberate circles.

‘Many plans for it, and not much longer, now… no…’

I tried to move away only to have my ear grabbed and twisted painfully.

‘Stop that, pretty…’

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my discomfort, but I was caught off guard, the startled yelp escaped me before I knew it was even there. Platinum asked what was being said. When I told him Cale was being bossy and that he wanted his dagger back… he asked me for it.

‘He's welcome to come get it from me.’

He said it with utter confidence, but I had a promise to keep.

‘Now that irritates me. You thinking of giving it to him like that…’

I did think it… if only to irritate Cale. But even that is not worth you, sis. I would break the world and offer a million empty promises, but never to you… ever. However… the consideration got me a smart pinch, and this one hurt.

‘You've been getting a lot of -exercise-, haven't you?’

Again… Small consolation in Cale’s jealously.

‘What? He fears a fight on even terms?’

Probably. I explained that I promised to keep the dagger until I had gutted both Anders and Cale with it… I had promised you.

‘Again? Hmm. Maybe I should just return the favor…’

He got quiet.

‘You haven't done me any favors, Cale… Ever. And I would gut you again in a heart beat if you weren't such a damned Coward.’

‘As usual, you let them win. You allow them to goad you so.’

Platinum’s words… true as they might have been, stung. I tried not to get angry… I really tried. As much as his words stung… it was nothing on what came next. It started low and moved up my midriff. It was quick, and deep, a sharp and intense pain as though my stomach had lain open by a searing hot poker taken straight from the fire.

I screamed. I curled up, desperately trying to catch the phantom entrails that I could feel falling away, but could not see or catch… I writhed and wondered how I managed to stay conscious at all. I was dimly aware of the others who scrambled to my aid, and more grateful than I cared to admit when a spell took hold. Gnome had cast another spell, and as soon as he did that, everything stopped. Much like the deafening silence that comes after an intense and prolonged clamor, I was left weak and breathless in the wake of the absence of the pain. I was dimly aware of the conversation around me for a time…

‘The mind blanks are the only things having any effect at this point.’

‘Damn… one more thing I have to work my way past. Maybe your mommy has figured out this one by now…’

Cale’s laughter faded away slowly… and I could only think, that he would be back, and gods only knew when. Would he bring Dear Mommy to the party? Or big brother? I wonder how much Lotus mommy gets for doing all the hard work while the boys play?

The pain of the whole ordeal must have knocked me silly though… because as I sat there and tried to rest… I was… distantly aware of a conversation about a worm with hands… and have the disturbing feeling that it -isn’t- an insult to Cale. I’ll have to ask Goddess about it later. I have a few scrolls… and its been quiet long enough… I need wine, and sleep… and I hope Dreamer is done napping… because right now… I need him to tell me I am not insane… and remind me that things can’t be … as bad as they look.

I know… I know…

“Promise made is a promise kept…”

I’ll keep it, sis. And don’t look at me so funny… I’ll explain the worm… AFTER I rest. Unless of course it really was some stress induced madness. Pray for me, Seraphim… from your place between the moonbeams, maybe if you ask the Mistshadow to hide me beneath her cloak… Just keep them away long enough to buy me some time. Time to figure this out… and make sure when the dagger falls -this- time… they don’t walk away from it. Whatever is going on… I have a feeling it starts… and ends… with Mother dearest. Gods-be-damned-Wench that she is!
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-TWO]

I am making a right mess of things, sis. A bloody damned mess. When did they stop becoming useful tools? Start getting attached, and you stop thinking about what is practical. When did the nicknames, most of them, stop being a means of staying detached… and start becoming a form of endearment to friends? When in the bloody Nines did I start thinking of them as friends?

Oh I know its useful that they think I care, makes twisting them into useful things easier. But what do I do now that its no longer an illusion? Bah! All my honesty the last few days… wonder of wonders the Mistshadow hasn’t abandoned me. Unless… faith is an illusion too. Another tool? Does it even matter any more? Especially since I am less inclined to find tools… and more content with friends. Get myself killed yet. Maybe. I don’t know anymore.

Worse still… is it really worse? Maybe not. Bloody damned confusing mess! Dreamer. I have watched it happen. Let it happen… and I don’t even mind… Well, I do mind he might get hurt. That’s the problem. Laugh it up, sis. You did say happy endings exist if we work for them. He’s working for something. And I am tempted to help it along… Maybe. I don’t know… if it stops being practical, nice as it is…

‘An' t'night, 'a th' White Mask Theater… Th' beaut'ful… Talented… one 'o a kin'… Maeve Capstan!’

We stood atop the Friendly Arm, admiring the night sky. I found myself in an odd mood. Offering songs and poems to the stars. The days had passed easy enough. It was nice. To bed with the sunrise, though not always asleep, thanks to Dreamer. Nights full of laughter and more good times than not… And little stolen moments of joy. Now I looked at him in near muted shock as he gestured at the imaginary audience I would one day captivate… And he was utterly oblivious to what he had said. I bet your laughter rang between the moonbeams the rest of the night too.

I know what you are thinking, sis. Not sure what I am thinking, but I know you. You think its funny. Little Miss Unhappy Ever After… in love. Yeah. Bloody Hells! Could things get more complicated? He is set on that cottage. Set on riding the storm out, and making me Little Mrs. Happy Ever After. Stop laughing. It isn’t funny, sis… its terrifying. Don’t you remember what happened? It’s the ones I care the most for that get hurt the worst. I’d be doing him a favor if I broke his heart… All of them. So why the hells haven’t I? Because I care. See?! This is why you DON’T Care. Ever. Makes survival… complicated.

Easier when you are just looking out for yourself. You would still be around if you didn’t bloody care about me, sis… Then again I might not be… Either way, this wouldn’t be so complicated now. So where the hells do I draw lines that I haven’t crossed… So I can… what? Cross them again? What’s the point. Too far gone to turn it around now. Yesterday I was even making apologies to people. To keep friends. Not tools. Not manipulations either. Honest, Damn-me-to-the-Nine-Damned-Hells, apologies. Gods damned bloody brilliant mess I am making for myself.

I know, sis. It isn’t as bad as I am making it out to be. That’s what you would say. I can hear it now. I’d be willing to agree with you if it wasn’t for today. Sure today started out bloody brilliant. It was actually nice. Blue is back around. The airy little Genasai that I swear could be my twin some days… in spirit of course. We had a grand time at it too. Gave her a right, proper, welcome the hells back too. Got a good laugh out of it, and a pretty fair drink. Which reminds me, if I am ever allowed to walk down the road again without getting molested by hands I can’t cut off… I need to refill her flask and get it back to her. Hells I might let her have these two bottles of Berduskan I have. I won’t drink them. Just drank hers for the hells of it. She’s a doll.

So yeah the day started out really well, drinks and laughter and some poetry. Was a good crowd of folks about. “Blue and Red” went and kept spirits high, until the goodly sorts had to go getting into a debate over some girl that I guess is more trouble than most. Then there were a couple of folks I didn’t know and one or two that pass as familiar faces. Then the real trouble started. I was laying there on the bench, just lounging and waiting for the afternoon to pass and the moon and mist to rise. When I got a rather rude pinch on my thigh.

"Quiet is nice, don't you think -luv-?"

This sent me upright rather quickly.

"Loved that jump… "

Bastard pinched me again. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of jolting me, I held onto the bench and gritted my teeth, determined to sit still.

"Attempting to be brave, missy? Come now… we can't have that. I'll have to tell your mother on you…"

He chuckled in my ear as I attempted to sit still.

"Go right ahead. It makes things more fun… "

I bit my tongue until it bled, if the bench weren’t made of stone… I likely would have left indentions where my fingers dug in as his tongue traced the edge of my ear… and resolved as I was… his next words set nauseatingly on my nerves. Everything he said made me want to stab my ears out. I wanted to tear off every inch of skin he touched. I -hate- him.

"I certainly won't mind if you sit still…"

I jolted. Started looking for those scrolls Gnome had made for me.

"Now now… none of that."

To my surprise, my search was halted by a hand grabbing my wrist.

"Play time is soon to be over, and the real fun can begin."

He bit my cheek. Bit me, sis. Fecking Bastard! If Cale isn’t dead… I was going to kill him… take out his eyes, cut off his hands… shred him… burn what was left… track down his SOUL and find a way to destroy it. Bloody Pile of Rot… the Hells would be too kind on the bastard.

‘Gods Damn it!’

I jerked away from the hand, which let me go, at just the right time to try to throw me off balance. Simultaneously, a foot caught me in the back of the leg and nearly well took me to the ground.

“They already have, sweet thing… On your back, missy… Your favorite place, it seems."

Like Hells! Fortunately, I recovered the fall. I didn’t want to contemplate the results if I didn’t.

"Awww… c'mon… "

Anders, of course wouldn’t let Cale have all the fun… Never did.

Trouble showed up and I sent her to find Platinum or somebody… and be quick. She left… the others were worried I was sick or something… I was bloody well nauseated enough. I started rummaging through my pack for those damned scrolls… which of course I couldn’t find.

"Trying to get your paladin friends to help? Awww… I bet they ask for a tumble eventually. You know how paladins are… all repressed."

‘Like you would know.’

"Considering you tumble this ‘Dreamer’ fellow to keep him around, I'm not surprised. It's all a sham, isn't it? Once a harlot, always a harlot."

Wasn’t it? No… He wasn’t in it for the toss. Though it would be bloody easier if he was. Some drunk swore I was delirious, Kat, the girl that hangs around, was actually speaking in my defense, oddly enough… I took advantage of the peace to try to find the scroll. Gnome showed up, wonderful timing… and offered to help, as did Cutie… though I wasn’t sure what Cutie could actually do…

Which reminds me… He has a mischievous streak. Tried to talk me into a hug only to try to toss me in the river. I took great pleasure in turning him red as my cloak with a kiss, for revenge. Wasn’t even a long one… a quick little lip smack and he looked so red he was almost purple. It was priceless. And for the record… it’s the last time I offer him a hug. Scamp. Adorable, but still a scamp.

Of course, hard as I was looking… Gnome walks over and points right to the scroll. I read the damned thing only slightly quicker than should have been humanly possible, and sat down. Very still. About that time Knots, and Goddess’s brothers… oh that’s another thing. Goddess has asked I not call her that because she feels unworthy of it. So she’s Chocolate now. Since she is the only girl I know halfway well that I share chocolate with… matches her skin tone too… okay getting off subject again… sorry sis. I am tired. Her brothers. The twins that have no sense of color. They showed up too.

"Awww, damn. Here are your ‘friends‘. Which one get the first… and who gets seconds?"

The scroll didn’t work? Bloody Hells… I tried another one, reading it slower just to be safe. I tried then to explain what was going on to the trio of knights that Trouble had brought back… which was proving difficult.

‘Nobody gets anything.’

‘Gnome?! You are a bloody wizard! Figure this out!’

"Just your boy toy? Perhaps you -have- changed, but I doubt it, really. You are just playing hard to get, so they will be even more yours later, when you ‘give in’."

It was slightly ironic that so far I hadn’t had to promise a toss to get things done. The Dancer had implied it… but respectfully hadn’t brought it up, and still continues to insist that he is doing this with the expectation of nothing in turn, save what ever profit he can find off of Cale and Anders… Not that I would believe that for a second. I’ll gut him if he asks for a toss, and tries to tell me I owe it to him. I am not a gods damned harlot. Not anymore.

Cale nibbled at my ear and chuckled darkly.

“We grow stronger…”

‘Get the Bloody hells OFF of me!’

At this point the twins were talking… one was asking what was wrong, and whether or not Gnome’s spells were helping. The other wondered if I could hear them… which I could… It is just hard to concentrate with some sick bastard nibbling on your ear… which I wanted to cut off. I would have cut my ear off. They tried more spells. It wasn’t helping. They wanted to carry me to a temple.

‘I can bloody walk… Gods damned Cale… Pike the Nines off!’

“No…”

The dripping, malicious hate in his voice was sharply contrasted by the uncharacteristically -gentle- kiss he placed just so on the tender spot beneath my earlobe. I wanted to vomit. Set myself on fire… anything. To further compound the want to tear off every inch of skin on my body… Anders placed his own sickeningly gentle kiss on the other ear. Briefly I considered cutting off my ears. I drew my dagger and lurched up. The others discussed my sanity and what to do. Surprisingly the Dancer spoke in my defense this time… What in the Nines is going on? When did people start giving a damn about -me-? Especially people like that?

‘She isn’t crazy.’

‘Some where… just out of here away from…. Just…’

I screamed in frustration. My dagger dangerously close to my own skin, but finding no purchase in the attackers.

‘She’ll hurt herself.’

Gods I wanted to. If I thought killing myself wasn’t monumentally stupid… Gods I would have slit my own throat rather than let Cale and Anders have at.

‘Bloody hells! Just get them away from me… where the nines is safe?’

Knots tried to calm me down. I am sure I redefined the statement ‘fit to be tied.’ A gaggle of well intended folks urging me across the bridge as I walked along. My focus torn in too many ways at once to make sense of much.

"And how is mommy's favorite little girl this afternoon…? The boys tell me you've been a bad, bad girl."

Great. Had a regular damned party now. Mother dearest was there to light the place up, in a not too figurative way… I waited for a lash of flames to slow my forward progress… And smarted off against my better judgement. Well… never was one to think things through beyond what I needed.

‘Bloody bastards! Since when has anything I have ever done been GOOD, or right exactly, hmm Mother?’

Hard to walk with a pair of bastard lechers’ hands pinching the hells out of you with every few steps. Laughing the whole way. Progress was slow as I focused on forward motion, and tried to ignore the taste of blood and bile in my mouth. Then Goddess caught up with us. She wanted to know what was going on. Demanded we stop so she could look around. Try to see what was going on. I would have been more than fine with it… had the boys not decided to take advantage of it…

“Oh my… you stopped…"

Cale sounded like a giddy boy about to get his first toss… And while I tried to keep moving forward, found myself held in place. Some one was standing on my cloak… the others blocking my way forward, and not one of them was aware that there wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t touched by a pair of hands I wanted to chop into a million tiny pieces. I wanted to run to the nearest temple before it got worse. Barring running… I was ready to bury my own blades in my gut. Fortunately, I didn’t have to. Chocolate muttered off a spell, and something popped over my head. A loud sound, that sent me ducking… By the gods… at least the molestations stopped. For me.

We made the march to the temple, I can’t even remember which one. They were upset at Chocolate for interfering. Took the time to make that well known too, from what she said at the temple. There was some argument about what to do next. The others thought it best to go to Candlekeep, rather than stay holed up in a temple. Candlekeep was warded. A slightly larger prison than a temple. We could be librarians instead of nuns…

Chocolate didn’t want any part of the Candlekeep, and for some reason was mad at Gnome and Cutie… and they were talking about walking… YES walking… all the way to the keep. It had been a while since I was raped standing up… really didn’t want a chance for a repeat. Gnome could have us there in a blink, if Chocolate would just agree to the spell. But she didn’t trust him. I really wondered if she trusted anyone.

Eventually though, we ended up at Candlekeep. A forced retreat. I had lost my foothold. Spells weren’t blocking… not regular ones. I wasn’t any closer to figuring out what was going on. Bookworm had yet to get back to me, and then some stuff came up… But hey, I was stuck in Candlekeep for the moment… so at least… my chances of finding someone who understood what was going on. That was fortunate… Unfortunately… things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Chocolate said the voice demanded she stop trying to help me. That I wasn’t worth her time… might be true, but she was determined to stick it out… even if she was mad at me. There were a million thoughts going through my head… and more than one conversation. So it took a bit for the part about the voice sounding like Whiskey to stick.

It didn’t sound like Cale or Anders… or mom… but a guy she knew really well and liked. One who would never ask her if she was a harlot and pinch her on the arse. It sounded like Whiskey? This of course shattered every theory I thought I had… and left us with a million questions. Like:

If it isn’t Cale and Mother dear, are they still dead?

If it isn’t Mother dear, Cale and Anders… who the hells did I piss off so bad?

Why take such care to make me think its Cale, Anders, and my dear sweet mother… And not choose a more careful illusion for Chocolate?

Why are they even doing this to begin with?

Who is ‘they’ and what did they want?

Who would invest such time and effort into a bloody harlot from Waterdeep?

I mean they didn’t seem to try that hard to trick Chocolate. So it stood to reason it might not be who I thought it was. Which means I may not be dealing with someone I thought I knew. Talk about hiding and illusion in an illusion. This was heavy magic involved. Someone was going through a lot of trouble to make me miserable. Frankly, it was pissing me the hells off. No shortage of people willing to help. Willing… gods I just don’t get it… but there isn’t time to argue my worth or figure it out. I am not going to be some gods damned librarian. Or a nun.

I just need to get my bearings, and find some clue as to what is going on. Cale and Anders are still the best link… the others want to scry for them and see what they are up to. it’s a start. Not much of one, but better than nothing. In the mean time they want me to go over my past… and go over a lot of other more recent things. Maybe I pissed someone the Nines off. I mean aside from Cale, Anders and my mother. I mean… Anders is still alive… but he doesn’t have this kind of fire power. This is some heavy duty magic at work. Maybe the other two are still dead… maybe not. We needed to find out. The sooner the better. Time to regroup and switch strategies… I think.

An illusion the Mistshadow would be proud of. When I find out who it is that is responsible for this… Gods help them. Because I am pretty sure no one else will. I am sure the view is nice from where you are, sis… but I have a promise to keep. I miss you, but I think I would rather see you later… rather than sooner. Remind me of that the next time I think about tearing out my own heart. Poor Dreamer… hope I don’t have to break his to keep him safe. Gods damn it! What a mess. Think I am going to finish that wine… and then work on this stuff Whiskey gave me. I need sleep. I can figure this out… after the hang over.
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-THREE]

They trickled in. The faces that have become something more than tools… Gnome wanted to stretch his newly acquired skills. The others wanted to help for varying reasons. I wanted answers. There had been talk of scrying for some time. Whiskey’s girl was there. Paragon… in lieu of Ms. Fantastic. Jake… the one soul I have yet to coin a clever name for that encompasses him… had ambled in… I feel bad for him. He offered to help… and I handed him, in an almost all to literal way… the Hells on a platter… or Mirror as it were. Mono-chrome was there. Platinum was there. I am infinitely grateful that Dreamer wasn’t. One of us needs to remain sane…

I know sis, not making total sense. Sorry. Hells. I wish you could have been there. I remember how scary it was the first week in the Dive… even how scary that dog was when I was real little… the one that took my food every day for a week? Those weren’t Scary. Anders the first time he caught us trying to get away? That was just adrenaline… even half the things I thought Cale did that were scary. Not scary. Not compared to this… the men we called monsters? Piles of swine and rot… but definitely not monsters. I’ve seen some weird shite since arriving… stuff I thought was scary at the time… Nothing on what we saw through that mirror last night. Nothing.

I’d have run if I didn’t want to know what the Hells is going on. I know. I don’t run. Maybe I should have. We decided to go upstairs and scry for Anders first. The one I didn’t kill. Chocolate and Mono-chrome didn’t think we would find much. If we did, Mono-chrome was ready to find someone to wiggle fingers and teleport us there to deal with Anders. Them, rather. I wasn’t invited. This pile of rot makes a mess of my life… and they want to protect me by leaving me out. Figures. Bloody Hells! If they intend to go where Anders is… I’m bloody staying home. Anders can stay where he is… suits me just fine.

So Gnome worked his magic with Anders’ favorite blade, the one I had planned to kill him with… and a mirror. Started out … normal for that sort of thing. I didn’t understand what they were doing really, or how they expected Anders to be all chatty. Especially for my sake. I mean by that point… I figured even if it wasn’t Anders and Mother and Cale giving me the Hells and keeping me pinned in Candlekeep… well… I doubt Anders would want to chat over ale. Turns out… he isn’t in much of a mood or position to chat.

The mirror stopped reflecting… looked like gray fog for a while. Then it got less opaque, it shimmered and rippled in hues of red and orange. Platinum had moved between me and the mirror. I tensed as the images of flames became more apparent. I thought for sure this was some sort of trick and I was going to catch fire any minute. Then the screaming reached my ears. Even over the others urging me not to look. Curiosity kills the cat… always got me in trouble. Never anything I couldn’t talk myself out of, sis… but this time…

I inched around the hulking knight to take a peek into the mirror at the corner of the room. It looked like something out of a nightmare. The others were confused. Thought it was a trick of sort. Then as the image sharpened, there in the forefront was Anders. All twisted and writhing in pain and fear like the rotted arse he is… Not sure when I had drawn my dagger… I expected something to come after us, or for it to melt away and Anders be standing there just fine and ready for a toss… I think Platinum thought I was going to charge the mirror… or run. I didn’t really see what was going on in the background at first. Just Anders…

I always said I’d like to see him in the Hells, sis, for what he did to you… to us. The way he’d laugh when you screamed… or the way he would be so sickeningly sweet if we cried… right before doing every gods damned thing he could to make us suffer because he was a miserable bastard. Funny thing was… I finally see him getting a taste of his own affections… and then some… and I felt… Nothing. I wasn’t really mad that I didn’t get to kill him myself… more kind of… Empty. He was dead. Didn’t matter if it was my hand or not. I -saw- it finished. First half a promise kept?

Maybe, and maybe getting to that second half means I have to figure out -why- the bastard is dead. Lot of thought for a few seconds. Mind is funny like that, works faster than you think it should. Didn’t take long for the contented nothing to fade. A barbed whip wrapped around his neck and dragged him back into the writhing misery behind him… and what I saw made me ill. It was horrid. Somehow, the thought that Anders was in that mess wasn’t so comforting anymore. It was horrid. The worst nightmares we had ever known had nothing on what was there.

This… creature… I can’t, Seraphim. There aren’t enough wretched words in the world in any language to describe the thing that leered at us through the mirror. I don’t think a soul in that room would fault me for hiding behind platinum like a scared child. It… whatever it was… the monstrosity behind every man whoever walked through the Dive… No sooner had its inky voice crawled through the room like the puss-laden tongue that delivered it… Was talking to Gnome… and just like that, Gnome looked away and it was gone.

We were all in varying states of scared beyond reason… or utterly repulsed… Questions were flying one way and the other as we all struggled to regain composure. Gnome had done pretty good. I guess these scrying things can get pretty dangerous. I could understand why. So Anders was dead, likely. No one was exactly sure where he was… I wasn’t entirely sure I cared beyond what it had to do with what was going on. It was apparent that if it really was Anders… Anders didn’t care about his favorite harlot anymore.

The Hells, the Abyss, some mage created pocket plane? I didn’t care. Anders was there, getting what he deserved and couldn’t bother me. The whole mess confirmed our earlier thoughts that it wasn’t Anders, Cale and Mother giving me a right pile of rot. Needless to say we weren’t going to have a chat with him. Wasn’t entirely sure if he was dead or not. Wasn’t sure if that… thing we saw… was responsible for what was going on… or even a part of it. I was content with his suffering. I was also scared of whatever I had managed to step into when I stepped out of Waterdeep.

Despite how bad that was, they wanted to do it again. They wanted to look for mother. Wasn’t sure why. She had probably already sold what was left of her soul for more damned Lotus. I tried, Seraphim, to care like you asked me to. I really did. Never got me more than more pain. I gave her the choice to leave. I did. She chose the Lotus. So I gave her enough to kill her and stop her shriveled, black, heart. I asked her a half dozen times to come with me. She chose the Lotus. She could have been my mother… but she chose the damned Lotus. She was so high she could have reached the seventh heaven by the time I lit the Dive up. May have already been dead by then… She chose the Lotus… and I watched the place burn a bit.

Even as I left before the flames attracted attention, I turned and walked away. Looked back once and wondered if she ever cared. Not once did I ever consider what would happen after that. I’ve never really thought about dying or death or what comes after. Hadn’t thought about it much, or her since I had to outrun Anders. If I had used enough poison I might have been the one to send him where he was… But… Even if it can be reasoned that I didn’t actually kill her… I did let her die.

I bled for her again. This time not because she made me bleed or handed me to some bastard that wanted me to scream. One girl’s pain is another man’s pleasure. She ran from hers. Hid in her Lotus. I did wonder a few times lately why. Why did she do what she did, why didn’t she love me like a mother should have? Why did she choose the damned Lotus? Or what happened to her before I came along… Lot of things I will never understand, lot of questions I won’t ever get answers to. Biggest one is… Did she really deserve what I gave her anymore than I deserved anything she gave me?

Mono-chrome pulled out a simple dagger and cloth. Asked for a pinprick of blood. Even promised to fix it up afterward. Not the worst thing a man had ever asked of me, least he could be a gent about it. Probably not nearly as hard as him asking me to let go of my want for payment for what they did to you, sis… He was pretty swift about it. Not an impartial bastard, least not as much as he tries to put out to be. Think somewhere in that world of black and white… he has a real heart.

He handed the rag to Gnome… who still looked pretty rattled from finding Anders. Then there was more talk about whether or not I should even be here for this. Hindsight? Probably not. But again… Curiosity is my bane. I argued. I was dealing with rot. I wanted answers. I was staying. Hells be damned… only that was a bit more literal than I expected. Gnome worked his magic again and the mirror was once again washed in that slate gray.

Things get… a little smudged after that. They get… difficult to contemplate. There was no gradual clearing of the gray mass that was the mirror’s expanse… Platinum stood square in front of me. I peeked nervously around him to the mirror as it came quickly and very sharply into focus. The first thing that reaches the senses is her scream. Guttural and tortured. The absolute encompassing anguish of all the worst and most horrid things you can imagine.

Once the mind gets past the horror that the scream carried… in mere seconds of thought… the eyes focus… And the only thing I could think as I buried my face in Platinum’s cloak was: Mother didn’t deserve that. No one did. Wreathed in flame and writhing on the chains that suspended her… How she could scream so, choking on blood the way she was… I’ll never understand. In the second or two my eyes looked on the scene in the mirror I could see these… things… lashing at her with barbed whips… after that… I didn’t see a damned thing. Because I couldn’t bear to look.

To the core, sis… never had I been so scared, it compounded what we saw earlier… the sounds… I could almost smell the burning flesh… I was shaking so damned bad I don’t think I could have stayed upright if Platinum wasn’t hanging onto me like the daughter I never was… I could hear it… Could hear the flesh rending… and writhing back into place so they could do it again. Some odd rhythm to the melody her screams were creating in a song that truly was hellish…

And I wasn’t the only one unnerved by it… in some odd accompaniment came the sound of flame…and for the chorus… the others exclaimed in various levels of disgust and unnerved fear or loathing for the image before us. Then the horrific music was sundered by the others trying to get the attention of the things that were… … yeah… No matter how horrible she was to me… ever… she didn’t deserve… that… from those… things. Makes me want to vomit to think… I … put… her… there.

All at once… it was silent. That eerie silence that comes before the monster shows up… the one we read about in the stories? The one that comes in the middle of the nightmare… just before you are scared awake and gasping for air? That silence… and it was deafening. I was grateful then… for the comfort offered. For those few moments… I was a scared little girl… with a father that cared and was going to keep the monster away…

The thing spoke… and it was the same one from before. It had Mother and Anders. It offered us those two… Two… where was Cale? It leered. Threatened Gnome with all sorts of nasty stuff… in the background… Mother started screaming again… I felt… regret. Real regret. She really didn’t deserve that. Not that. She deserved something for what she did… but not that. And now… I had gotten Gnome in trouble with this demon thing… or devil thing… or what the hells ever it was… I didn’t look. Didn’t want to. Didn’t need to… my imagination filled in the blanks between sound and sight.

Next thing I know the thing is gone… Mono-chrome is asking for Mother’s name and taking off… Platinum soon behind… I tucked into the corner of the room and glanced at the mirror… relieved to see a normal reflection… Not that it erased the image burned into my mind… Chocolate calmed Paragon down… Gnome… it messed Gnome up bad, he was out of it and said he had a killer headache. Jake left looking pretty messed up but didn’t say a word. Then Chocolate is telling me to stay at the keep and safe… and taking off. It all happened so quickly… I felt horrid. These people were supposed to be my friends… and all I was doing was laying more trouble at their feet.

Then it dawned on me Chocolate left… alone… I would know by the end of the night in just how much trouble we were in… I mean these people had seen a lot of fecking shite… and they were rattled. I was terrified… By the time I found Gnome he was alright… Platinum was coming back saying Mono-chrome was with Chocolate and they seemed safe. In Beregost. Least she made it to temple okay… But by the time I would see her again, she would be so rattled she was shaking. Paragon went to make sure nothing went bad with the scry and tend her duties around the keep.

Like an idiot I had inched out on the causeway. I thought it was safe at first. May have just been because at first, whatever it is that is messing with all of us was busy in Beregost. Just before we all stepped back into the safety of the keep… I heard it. And it used Cale’s voice.

“Hello again, sweetness…”

Cale… the only one not accounted for. They wanted to scry for him… after everyone rested. We still didn’t have many answers… and not the ones we needed. I’m scared, sis… I can see that happy ending you talked about… and I am scared of losing it. For the first time… probably ever… I really want that. I want to be more than the best harlot in Waterdeep. I want to be more than some bitter, miserable poet… I want to be more than some nameless pretty face… with friends and people that matter… not just tools and people I string along because its amusing… it isn’t fun anymore. I want a life. I want… My life as I make it. Without a cage, literal or figurative… without some bastard expecting a toss and tumble. I want something more to bank on then ten years of cultivated skill in making myself dirt so some rotter can feel a half step higher than he is.

First… I have to try to get some sleep… or get drunk. Though Platinum says it’s a bad idea. I get it, sis… these people really care. Maybe Chocolate is still awake… she was pretty shook up. First time I ever saw her look at Whisky distrustfully. I keep apologizing too… she shouldn’t have to look at her best friend and wonder if its really him or not… She says she is convinced, now more than ever, that I really am worth saving… But is it really worth damning her in the process?

When did it stop being about survival… and start being about living? I never cared about the difference before… then again… I never had the choice… I thought about going back to Waterdeep… but they are right. Too late for that now. We stick this out, we kick the arse of whatever is doing this… or we die.

Frankly? There are a lot of things I promised you I would do. That second half of that promise… To find that happy ending… is so close… I just don’t want to mess it up. I’ve messed a lot up… If anything… I owe it to you… To Dreamer… to the others… to make it count for something. Doesn’t count if we lose right? So I guess we are going to stick this out. To the finish. We figure out who it is, and there is going to be a lot of payback. This isn’t even about revenge anymore… its about seeing it set right.
~~

[ENTRY FOURTY-FOUR]

Bloody Hells!

Haven’t written much lately. Too gods-damned bored. Hard to get inspired staring at a mountain of books on demons, devils and magic. Still need to talk to that bloody wizard. Bookworm’s replacement? Seen him a few times, he wants poetry. I want bloody out of here, sis. I need to narrow this down though. Need to know what I am up against. I hate this shite. Not knowing what I am up against and where to stick the blade. Hiding in a damned library? Some freedom I’ve earned for my damned self.

What in the Nines am I doing anyway, Seraphim? It was simpler thinking it was Anders and Cale. Simpler thinking Mother dearest was a monster that deserved the worst of the Hells. Simpler when I thought I knew what bloody game I was playing and how to win it. The Mistshadow must have been laughing at my own self made illusion. The illusion that I knew what was going on and was in control. Starting to bloody believe that all the gods have one warped sense of humor.

I keep sifting through these books, that are supposed to have answers. They might, but if they do, am missing it. May not be Cale and Anders, could just be a trick. Mother didn’t look like she was in any shape to talk like she has been… That’s a bloody pile of rot. I felt bad for her… though I don’t know I really should… Can’t help it. She’s a wench, bloody Lotus-ridden harlot. Never was a mother beyond dropping my arse into this world. Still, bad as she is… Find myself second guessing a lot of things. Find it hard to believe, I know I do. But those things? Whatever they were, and what they were doing? I don’t even think that wench deserves that…

Too many unanswered questions in this. The rules keep bloody changing. Half the time I think I have it… the rest of the time, I am just guessing. I’m not you, sis. Not good at this. Fecking Anders! I actually hope the bastard isn’t dead! I want to gut him for what they did to you. Want to. Not going to bloody get to though. I could I suppose, but if I did it would ruin this whole over all plan of making something better of myself. Dammed paladin! “Revenge does you more harm than good, let others deal with it” he says. Maybe he’s right. I can’t afford to question it. The Monochrome Brothers and Chocolate, even Platinum and his little Mouse, Whiskey and Paragon even… Bloody out-voted. Guess though, with that many saying it… and they aren’t some pile of rot either… probably some bit of truth in it. So long as it gets bloody dealt with… preferably with his blood.

Been quiet here. Not many people come through, and even fewer stick around. Can’t say I blame them, I am not good company, and this place isn’t exactly the most interesting place on the Coast, unless you like books. I like books… This is bloody ridiculous though. Dreamer and a few others come to visit.

Dreamer… now there’s a real puzzle, sis. He’s an amusing one. Certainly worth the initial trouble. Now though? Not so much. He’s a distraction. Not only that but he keeps getting on the bad sides of the more useful people, which is bad for me. He visits less and less. Can’t say I blame him for that either. Wonder what harlot he went running himself to while I am stuck here? He’s got that damned theater to keep him busy… but he bloody well isn’t in my bed every night. Typical damned man no doubt. He is a scoundrel. Knew this going into it. No hard feelings though. Was a pleasant dance and an amusing game while it lasted. Phoenixes aren’t meant to be kept in cages… and Dreamers will roam. Ironic that it is me saying: Thanks for the Toss, have a nice life! This time.

So I wrote him a nice poem. Think it will get the point across. Maybe I can re think this whole happy ever thing later… Though honestly? I can’t say as much as I would like to, that Dreamer and I could have ever been more solid than a pleasantly passing dream. Maybe more than one happy ever after… maybe not. I’d be content with Free Ever After… If I survive this mess I’ve gotten myself into. To the Nine Damned Hells with it. I like the world better on strings, strings that aren’t wrapped around my heart.

I’ve got time to figure this out. Though if you know anything, sis, speak up! Stay here much longer and I will end up a nun/librarian… Bloody Hells, that isn’t actually going to happen. I hope. Meanwhile I guess I had better wave a damned book of poems under that wizard’s nose. Anything, just to get some answers and kill the Rotter causing all the problems… and if killing isn’t an option… I’ll think of something. More than one way to get rid of a problem… even if the dagger is more efficient.

Music changed, the dance changed… the stakes of the game are a bit high, but it might be amusing after all… Just need the upper hand, or at least to be the one changing the rules. In the very least, I don’t intend to lose.
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-FIVE]

Seraphim… I am starting to think I lost my mind in Waterdeep. I think I will add that to the list of things that the gods-forsaken City of Splendid Rot snatched over the years. Freedom, Innocence, Hope, You… and my Sanity. Every bit of it but you is probably floating down some gutter right now. Some Rotter that I missed putting a dagger to is probably… well, never mind. Bloody bastards…

Started out as a nice enough day. Rain hasn’t been that cold lately. Makes the walks around the Keep pleasant enough. As pleasant as it can be to see the exact same space for… how many days have I been here? Doesn’t matter really. I am no idiot. I’ll stay here until I figure out where the Hells all this trouble is coming from.

Ran into Illusion. He still doesn’t get the nickname, maybe because he takes things to literally… Silly knightly types. He’s a pretty decent one like Platinum though. I might even consider him a friend… which may be why I was so bloody well behaved today. He seemed, well… pretty out of it. Offered to buy him a drink, and all he said was it beat wandering around aimless. Poor guy. He did seems pretty unfocused. Brought him the first pair of drinks. Took a bit of talking to figure out what the problem was. Apparently his wife went missing. Pity, I told him, I am no longer in the business of replacing wives…

Got him talking about his kids. Bloody Hells, Seraphim… Never thought I would see the day when I would be sitting by some tavern fire with a man, talking about family life of all things. On a side note, Illusion is a bit of a lightweight. After the first two drinks he was all up in arms. Felt bad for him actually. This wife of his is a lucky girl. Looked like he’d been looking for her since she went missing.

Well, you and I both know how too much anger mixes with too much alcohol and causes too much trouble. He started work on a second set of drinks, which, by the way… I didn’t by them. Honest. Had absolutely no plans to take advantage of the poor fool. Gods, sis, sometimes though they make it so bloody easy…

About an hour or so later, between the Stouts, the warm fire, and a few tricks to turn his neck from granite to rubber… poor thing was all but in a stupor. Whiskey and Chocolate showed up too. They were chatting with me… well, Whiskey was, more or less… Chocolate was ready to be done with this … whatever it is as much as I am. Anyway, someone saw Illusion home. Hope the poor fool gets some sleep. I even hope he finds this girl of his. Maybe she’ll be a better mother to hers than mine was to me.

I wish I could say the most terrifying part of the day was when Whiskey offered to play matchmaker… but it wasn’t. By the time he headed off to see Ms Quintessence… yes, Definitely like that better than Paragon. So Whiskey is with Chocolate and Ms Quintessence. Not sure if they are two very lucky girls or if he is a glutton for the worst kind of punishment. Poor bastard.

Anyway, that wizard finally crossed my path. Still not sure if it is a blessing or not, but it is some step in the right direction… I think. Hard to tell anymore, sis. So I drew those things that I saw. The ones Gnome pulled up in that mirror? Drew those for the wizard. Fortunately, I still have a knack for art… Unfortunately he hadn’t seen them… or didn’t recognize them… maybe because there was no way to capture just how horrific those things were in ink. After today… maybe I shouldn’t try too hard either.

So he offers to take me -into- the library, help me try to find something on what we are dealing with. I probably owe the rest of my damned life in poetry at this point… to about half a dozen… Least my soul seems to be my own … for now. Weird, two decades of rot, I light out of Waterdeep like my arse is on fire, and run into a whole lot of folks that are… well… decent.

This library? -Library- doesn’t even begin to encompass it. Don’t know how they keep all those books straight… There were so many… Floor to ceiling, shelf after shelf crammed. Books and scrolls and manuscripts… that I swear went on for nearly forever. Briefly I indulged in the day dream… my books of poetry somewhere in those revered halls to all things written. Not a bad bit of happy ever after… if I get that far.

He worked some sort of magic, and had Platinum and that pretty little red headed knight join us. Platinum was coming all this way to check on me. He’s a doll. Really he is. This girl he brought with him looked like another knightly sort, or a priestess or something. If anyone deserves to be called Angel, its her. Then he said he was going to go look over some notes on something and that we could look through some books… sounded simple enough. He took us to some of the monk-librarians, and told them to help us find whatever we needed. Sure it sounded simple…

We walked through row after row of books. Coming to some roomed off bit. So many books. From the looks of it… planar, and anything to do with it. Of all of it, half of the damned room, all on demons and devils and the lower planes. That was a terrifyingly large amount of shite to sort.

"My guess is something like one of the demon lords, or princes. Something unique. That is why no one so far has known much."

Right, when he said that… it didn’t sound so reassuring. I looked at the mass of books.

“We are looking through all of these? Platinum, I'm not even exactly sure what I am looking for…”

"Well, if any pictures match what we saw, then that will be what we are looking for, hrmm?"

“I hope these are picture books. Right. Big, Frog, Scary looking, Demon… thing…”

I half hoped that to be a title somewhere. We decided to look for pictures that matched what we saw… not much of a direction, but it was a start. No better ideas, I asked Tymora for a hand, closed my eyes and randomly pointed. We had each picked a different section to thumb through.

The one my finger landed on was a worn, stained, worm-ridden book called "Treaties on Madness: The Forms of the Demon Princes". That sounded absolutely bloody lovely. Angel found some book, holding a similar picture to the one I drew… some unpronounceable title… Talk about tying the tongue in knots trying… I thumbed through the one in my hand… Sure enough there sat old Toady-Tongue, drawn as though the artist was half afraid of what he drew. The book though was in pretty bad shape.

“Platinum… look?”

Sure enough he agreed… this thing was what we saw.

“Demon Princes. So not devils. Why couldn't I get one of those fairy tale princes instead that turned from a frog to a handsome rich doll when I kissed him?”

Angel found one more relatively loosely related book to the first one she found, I added those to the stack. I had the one with the picture. It was a pretty detailed picture… and from the writing around it, the artist had gone insane… You would have to be, I thought, to draw it so… well. The rest of the book was nearly unreadable, but that picture…

The book with the unpronounceable name also had pictures… these were drawn as if the artist were afraid of it… to even draw it… Can’t say I blamed him. The text in it was… hard to read. It didn’t make much sense, and the handwriting looked like it was written by someone stuck between hypothermia and a heart attack. Sometimes it was as if the quill barely touched, much less held the page.

The third book was a lot of nonsensical rambling that probably wouldn’t have made any sense if I had an eternity to read it and a chance to talk to the author face to face. Kept it anyway to peek through if there wasn’t much useful stuff in the other two. I wonder what sort of insane and tormented soul it takes to write this sort of stuff… what studying it might do to you… my rather dismal thoughts on my own sanity wandered. Demon princes hmm… Nothing like pissing off the royalty… that’s me… brilliant, royally fecked up, royally in trouble.

“How can there be so many books on the lower planes? There really that much Rot?”

"Nine layers to the Hells, rumored to be infinite layers of the Abyss, Scarlett dear. Truly, a lot of 'rot'."

“Which one are demons from?”

"Abyss."

“The infinite one? Bloody Hells, when I get in trouble I do it right…”

I degraded to further grumblings at being cheated from a fairy tale frog-prince, my thoughts and musings continuing. Princes are hard to kill… Wondered if they are as hard to kill as rich merchants. Hated that side of work. Wished I could have just killed them and skipped the foreplay, Seraphim. Nothing quite as easy though. I’d promise them the heavens… and send them there with a well placed dagger. Men are such pigs. Bastards, all about the Toss. Except for Anders, bloody rotter, who was all about the damned Toss and the coin. Somehow I didn’t think killing a Demon Prince would be anything like killing a bastard Waterdhavian merchant thinking below the damned belt… My musings were interrupted when Platinum found another book.

"Hrmm. Dreams of the Screaming Mouths."

“There was a lot of screaming.”

“I imagine the ones who wrote these lost there minds to insanity…I cannot imagine the dreams they had when closing their eyes.”

Not sure I wanted to either… The nightmares I had just since they went hunting for Mother dear and Anders… Let’s just say I am perfectly content to sit out the next one. I don’t want to find Cale’s arse that badly. Not ashamed to admit that I was perfectly content to hide in that corner and be a scared little girl either.

This book was… well poetic. Morbidly, revoltingly, maddeningly poetic. The metaphors were vague at best. There were pictures too… more stylized and lacking in realistic detail… strictly artistic almost. The descriptions were allusions in prose of various styles. I couldn’t help but be both repulsed… and oddly intrigued by the author’s words and skill with words… part of me wanted to put the book down… Another part of me wanted to unravel the wordplay.

We searched for hours, and the only other thing I found was a book that loosely detailed the abyss itself. I added it to the stack simply because I didn’t know much about the Abyss, and given what we were possibly dealing with… might not hurt to know what other tricks and nasties they might have to throw at me aside from demonic dogs with a taste for blood.

The others had things to do, the monks got busy… not sure when exactly I ended up on my own. I had the collection of nightmarish books spread out on the table… looking for a name or … favorite food, and possible poison that would kill it… anything. Finally came across something consistent enough to assume it is a name:

Stryl'rurta. Sure… say that five times fast… or don’t. From what I have read, you can drag some of these demons from their uncomfortable holes with words and names. I was going to have to be careful… or end up like these authors… or gods forbid… worse. Demons are collectors of souls. Not sure though if this is a proper name for this bastard we saw, from what I could gather of the gibberish in the unpronounceable one… its at least the name of the type of demon. The poetic book, fascinating to read by the way, sis… never seen such… nightmarish metaphors.

One of them referred to the thing as “Ye Liveliest Awfulness”. That could mean any number of things. The book with the spidery handwriting… the scared one… seemed to finally offer a bit of detail. It collected souls like other demons… but the more corrupt souls the better. Explains why it had Anders’ sorry arse… maybe even mother dearest’s. Didn’t make much sense why it was troubling Chocolate. I mean I could see it messing with me. My share of stains to make up for, sure. What the hells were we? Bait? Fecking bastard. Don’t care if he is a Demon prince. Still a bastard. Talked like ‘he’ was a pretty secretive thing which made me wonder more if that was his NAME or his TYPE of demon… Either way the last time he had anything to do with Toril, much less Faerun was with Netheril? The Bloody Netherese? What the Hells did it want -now-? Not too sure I wanted to know.

My eyes wandered over my collection of horror stories… and rested on the book with the picture. For a sliver of a second… I swear the tongue moved. I slammed the book shut. After a few minutes I had myself convinced that I was tired and my eyes were playing tricks on me. I reached over and began to flip through the pages to the picture again… Before I got there… as I was flipping through, the thing’s tongue shot out of the book.

That sent me flying back into the far corner of the room. Flying may be a bit of an overstatement… I flipped out of my chair and didn’t touch the ground until I was in the corner… It nearly licked my -face-, Seraphim! My Face! I found myself fighting off the memory of unseen tongues on my ears, and trying to breathe. I had just about written it off as my over active imagination in a creepy room full of books on Demons… and gods knew what else… all alone, in the middle of the night… in a storm… Exactly that. Just like those ghost stories we used to tell each other… and the good guys always vanquished whatever came out of the creepy… haunted book… right?

Rather than take chances I thought perhaps I had done enough reading for the day. I was going to get the monk, and thank him, head to the inn and down my last bottle of Symbian Red, thank you Dreamer… but the damned door was locked. I tried the other door and found it similarly locked. Hells. I got locked in… for the night. Absolutely -peachy-!

I was content to get cozy by the door and wait for them to remember me, cursing everything from libraries to librarians, when the book … laughed at me… not the book, I thought… the damned picture. This set me to muttering every incantation and melody I could think of to protect myself, and calm my arse down… The incantations helped… but the melody was doing little to calm me down.

The room was oppressive. I wondered if I would suffocate. Or get crushed under a falling shelf… or… something. My imagination had me beating on the door frantically. I couldn’t say when I pulled my shield off my back and drew my blades. I just knew… something was going to happen… and I’d be damned to Cale’s bed before I went down without a fight.

“Pike Off!”

I was screaming… at the book… beating on the door… and the odd thing was, the sound was falling away from me. Like someone was slowly moving me away from the noise. I couldn’t hear the sound of me beating my shield on the door. Couldn’t hear my own screams… Everything went silent. Save for the sound now coming from the table… rustling pages. I looked over to see the books pages flipping back and forth frantically. I really did expect for some monster to crawl out… only thing was, I didn’t feel like some brave, monster-smiting, heroine with a glowing sword to combat the ills of the planes… I just wanted out of the gods-damned room!

I could feel myself screaming my throat raw… good thing I don’t sing much these days… My throat is still sore… and what felt like an eternity was mere minutes. All at once the book slammed shut, and the door that I was trying to push myself through one piece at a time fell open quick as you please… all at once I could hear my hoarse cries… and fell, rather ungracefully into a nearby monk.

He asked if I wasn’t alright… I was anything but all right. I was bloody loosing my mind… What does the bird do when the tiger figures out how to get in the cage? What happens to the birds who imagine cats that aren’t there?

It happened again when I met the wizard outside the library. The damned tongue took his bloody face off! He was -talking- to me without a face. Telling me to calm down that things were fine and there was nothing wrong with that damned book. I blinked… and things were indeed fine. Or at least he had his face…

The rest of the night was spent with that damned wizard and half the bloody keep treating me like I was some insane fool who was going to burn the world down on a whim. Patronizing bastards. Swears the book isn’t some messed up possessed bit of nonsense… and that I must be out of my mind… Maybe I am… can’t really say anymore. Still…

I didn’t want to read that damned pile of books alone. Fortunately they thought I was a danger to the books and wouldn’t leave me alone with them anyway. I swear I saw the picture move again. A mocking flick. Some unspoken promise I am better off not contemplating. The wizard did a lot of the reading. I spent most of the night waiting for something to crawl out of the books and running rhymes through my mind. The past few months ran between the prose, a dizzying succession of puzzle pieces that I couldn’t see clear enough to make sense of.

You always said to respect the Lady’s gifts… but some of them out right scare me… I really hope that the little display tonight was Her hand… Lady guard me… Seraphim, you always said there were those who would use her gifts for ill… I truly wondered who hated me so much that they would. Wonder if I have upset her? I never was much for faith like you were. I am sure I am not among her best… pray for my sake I am not among her worst.

I must have fallen asleep. Woke up in a bed, wizard still reading. He said he had some things to take care of and that we would talk soon. Seems the next thing we are looking into are the Netherese… this just gets better and better. Gods… I’m afraid to even ask what the Nines is next. I traded one pile of rot for another… at least in this one… there are a few pretty, shiny things… and I call more of the shots than I used to.
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-SIX]

Not sure if the last few days have been exceptionally productive or not. Been sort of… up and down. First off the other day: Talked to the Old Coot for a bit, not that there was much he could add. Everybody wants to save the poor little harlot. Bloody Hells, Seraphim. Why couldn’t we meet people like this growing up? Even just one or two. Could have been enough maybe. Either way, probably overstayed my welcome at the library. They still act like I am going to shred their precious books. Sure… but only the ones that take people’s faces off. Idiots. Hope their own precious library kicks their arses. I would say I want to be there to watch, but I don’t want to be anywhere near it when the books go homicidal.

So I talked to Whiskey and Chocolate. They’ve got a wizard there that runs a school or some rot. He seems to know a lot about the Netherese, but so far nothing overly helpful, and so far nothing that might hint at some sort of demonic oddity. Either way, I have once again upgraded to a nicer cage. At this rate, I’ll be some rich noble’s mistress and mostly free before I die. Hells. Maybe more than that. Maybe not. I want to believe that you and everyone else is right, but every time I find something that might get me to that Happy Ever After… Something tugs on the damned strings just enough to remind me that I am nowhere near close. Not nearly close enough.

Speaking of strings and things… Been a bit of trouble over breakfast. By breakfast I mean dragon eggs. Sort of made a mess of things for Chocolate and Whiskey. I really hope they get it sorted. Not used to seeing them fighting like this. She took the whole mess with Jake pretty hard. Mess. Bloody Mess. Literally. And in the interests of protecting my own arse in the long term… Jake hates me. He isn’t a bad guy, but it sounds like Gnome has gone crazy, and Jake is listening to Gnome… or… Listen since Gnome has disappeared.

Not entirely sure what this whole dragon thing is all about… almost afraid to ask. Been gathering bits and pieces, and I am pretty sure things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Dancer’s lost his mask. Saw him the other night, which is what got me tangled in this whole breakfast mess. Heard a whisper about an egg going to Durlag’s… then a bit later Whiskey and Chocolate go running by… Looking for an egg.

Fell into an old habit. Hard. And it didn’t do me much good. By the end of it Jake hated me, and he has every right. Still, better he was in the hands of someone that didn’t want to kill him, rather than someone who honest to the gods looked like he would. Maybe it was the wrong thing for the right reason… Have a feeling it was the lesser of two evils though, and still not close enough to the right side of things to save my arse.

As punishment for my misdeed… get this: A poem. Sounds easy right, sis? Sure… until you factor in that it is to be on the nature of forgiveness… receiving… AND giving. Still think I should have taken Platinum up on the offer to put a dagger to my throat and yell at me. Would have been bloody simpler. So I asked him who I was supposed to forgive? Cale? Anders? Not happening. Mother? Maybe. Not sure on that one yet. No, what’s Platinum suggest? Myself.

Right. -Right-. Should have seen that one coming. Forgive myself. I know better than to say I am blameless. Everyone swears I’m something worth saving. Murdering harlot. Why do they think that? Wrapped them around my finger with some pretty words I guess. Maybe at first. Captivated by the wounded dove, the bitter poet. Even after they found out I was nothing more than a thief and a liar… still think they can save me. From what? The Toad Prince? Sure. I hope so. From the past? Even if I ever lose the cages and strings… They tell me I paid my penance for twelve years of the hells. Say I can’t blame myself for what I was forced to do.

Maybe I can though. I could have ran. Left you and the others. Why didn’t I? Maybe because I am more human than Anders or Cale… even mother. I pride myself on that. Better than dear old mother. Because you were the first person to give me more than a second glance. Don’t know how you did it, Seraphim. Not sure how you can live the life you did… die the way you did and still believe in love and happy endings.

She’s a lot like you. Wearing your necklace for now. Seems wrong for me to wear it. Sort of stomped all over Dreamer’s happy ever after… and I don’t feel particularly bad about it. He’ll find some other girl. I am not ready for happy ever after, may not ever get there. Its all diversion and games to me. She’s like you. Believing in love and romance and all that rot. She’ll keep it for now. Whiskey and Chocolate think I can be taught. So did you. You tried to help and it got you killed. So maybe now… now that she wears your ruby, I can look at her and remember what happens when the world gets too close. Get some distance between myself and everyone else. I need to. Like Dreamer says… I am good at making people hate me. Good at using people Play em all like fools, and let their own indignant pain do the rest? Sure… they will survive then… I won’t drag them through my hells… any of them.

I keep telling myself that it doesn’t bother me. I don’t care if they hate me. Keep telling myself there is no such thing as a happy ending, and a life without cages… Can’t lie to a liar, Maeve… Can you? So why am I still trying? Why do I bloody care? Because I want to believe they are right? Because I need to? Phoenix. Born of blood and fire… Does she rise just to get dragged down in the mire? Maybe. Feel like I am running out of time. Getting clumsy. Getting attached. Things are getting complicated. And part of me wants a way to have my cake and eat it too. I want freedom and friends to share it with. I want their forgiveness… Why should they give it? Platinum has a point. Why? Unfortunately I don’t have an answer… yet. Now if I could survive long enough to figure it out…

Too much time holed up in that damned library. Losing my edge. At least my reputation still holds. Nice to see people worried when they see me coming… Nice to see them look at me the way they do a terrifying storm, beautiful, deadly… poetic. There are a few brave ones willing to step close enough to look a phoenix in the eyes. I respect it. It fascinates me. Confidence? Arrogance? Or do they honestly have a chance of walking away unscathed in the figurative and literal sense?

Been talked into thinking about publishing poems… Lucrative he calls it… Part of me wouldn’t mind the fame or the coin… But I can’t help but feel it’s a different sort of harlot. Sold my body off for coins in Anders’ pocket… now my soul? He says I am not giving it away… just sharing it. Maybe I am just being negative, as usual. I do need the coin. Anders’ stash is running low.

Need to get more wine… Stupid twit threw the last of it at the back of my damned head. I swear he is suicidal… all but begged me to kill him… Which is why I won’t. Has nothing to do with the fact I promised to behave… and that I am less inclined to go looking for more trouble. Nope… Nothing to do with that at all. Say it enough and I will believe that I am doing it for the right reason and not simply because I want to deny him the satisfaction of getting his way.

Need to get a lot of things actually. Some rope. A new dress. Some more scrolls. I did get some ice arrows. Didn’t figure fire ones would be that useful with all this talk of red dragons. Been reading up on everything from Demon Toad Princes, to Red Dragons, to the Netherese, some other things. I’ve been out a little more. Getting brave, I know… and pushing my limits. But I can’t make any gold locked in a room. Most nights I am just happy to have enough coins to do what I need, and still see the stars overhead.

Walking a thin line, sis… real thin. I can’t help but feel I need to figure something out… soon. Always running out of time. Somehow I doubt plugging the hourglass or turning it over again when no one is looking is going to save me. You’d know what to do. You always did. They say a good dancer isn’t one that knows every dance… but one that can make it look good even when the steps are all wrong. I just look like a girl with two left feet and a broken leg. I used to think I had it all figured out. Lot to learn, sis. Just got to stay upright long enough to figure it all out.

I have a promise to keep, though I wonder how I am going to… Mist and Shadow! I miss you, sis. I want to be that girl you thought I could be so bad… Every time I think I am there… I mess it up. Don’t need Cale to drag me back down anymore. Turns out I am pretty good at doing it all on my own. Got so many willing to save me from the hells and what have you… Willing to stand between all the monsters of the realms and me… Who saves me from myself?
~~

[ENTRY FORTY-SEVEN]

Well… in the least it seems most have made peace since the breakfast disaster. Not really sure if Chocolate will completely forgive my part in it. Not sure I have the right to expect it… I just hope she understands the dance. Especially the one I am likely to step into… for the right reasons this time. Not for me. It’s a familiar song, but this time I choose the dance partner. This time it is for a decent reason too. They need to know… I stand a chance to help and do something decent for a change. I just hope I remember all the steps. Especially the ones that don’t get me killed.

Either way, I am starting to believe things have a chance of working out. Platinum has been trying to help me see this. Today, none too gently… but I get the point. I said he wasn’t a right bastard enough to put a knife to my throat and yell. He had said that he was capable of more than people gave him credit for. Didn’t think he meant that he was a right bastard enough to call my bluff the way he did. I respected him before… perceptively, more so now. Mostly because I didn’t see it coming… Pissed me the hells off too. I deserved it I think, and for a knightly sort… it was a well done dance.

We’d gone to some tavern themed open house night at the Theater… which unfortunately resembled a dive too much for comfort’s sake. Was alright when Rock was buying me drinks. At least the wine was free… but even that wasn’t enough to get my skin to stop crawling. Platinum looked like he could use a rescue, and I could use being… well anywhere. So I told him I needed to talk to him and it was important…

Then offered him a drink at the Helm and Cloak. Chocolate joined us, and on the way, that troublesome fellow, the one Chocolate wants to save, stopped to talk to Platinum. Priceless, he was worried that Platinum’s daughter was afraid he was stalking him. I did my level best to not laugh. Chocolate was still a mess, so I offered her a drink too. Figured it was well warranted after the last few days everyone has had.

I had thought it would just be a lot of pleasant conversation… or at least that I was in the clear. Chocolate and Platinum exchanged some rather tense words… then Princess showed up for a bit. I sat, sipping wine from a glass, content and feeling like some sort of decent folk.

“How goes your poem?”

“The poem… yeah… it’s a work in progress.”

The frown was the first sign of trouble. The conversation continued onto talk of dragons and what have you, and I thought I was really in the clear.

"You are still having trouble grasping why I set the task."

A statement. Not a question. Like a child, I still felt the compulsion to answer.

“Why…? uh… I am willing to guess that it is because I messed up pretty good.”

"Who are you, Scarlett? How do you define yourself?"

I answered without thinking. Falling back on old wit, overused, but yet to fail. Only problem is… Platinum was lacking a sense of humor today.

“I'm a lot of things, depending on who you ask. Poet. That's my favorite anyway.”

"I did not ask others. I asked you."

Oops… no side stepping today.

“I… am something more… Transitory. A phoenix with a ways to go before the ‘rising from the ashes all glorious and wonderful’ bit.”

The look he gave me sent me diving eyes first into my wineglass.

"If that is how you saw yourself in your heart of hearts, you would have no trouble writing that poem."

The words were sharp. It was then that I realized I had let myself get caught in a battle of words… unarmed.

“Tell the truth.”

I wouldn’t say he sounded… well maybe I would say he sounded angry. His last words carried an edge I didn’t think the paladin capable of. I regarded him carefully. Unarmed, unprepared… and totally in over my head. The wine I had wasn’t helping matters. I found myself also becoming defensive like a scolded child.

“The Truth. I somehow don’t think that is going to help matters much. I get the feeling that ‘bloody pile of gutter rot’ doesn’t sound very poetic.”

My own words edged with indignant anger… He sat there, arms crossed and looking at me as though he intended to look -through- me…

“Why do you see yourself that way?”

His tone was dangerously even… Mine… was not. Bitter and spiteful was a good start.

“Because I am a run-away, murdering, lying, thief of a harlot. Sounds like 'gutter rot' to me.”

I all but spit at him. His tone remained level, like something unchecked just beneath the veneer of polite conversation. Did I mention I was over my head?

"A murdering, lying, thief of a harlot."

“What?”

I shot back.

“You bloody well asked! What do you want me to say?”

I knew better. Even as the words fell out of my impertinent mouth. You don’t jab at an angry tiger… And that was exactly what I was doing. I really shouldn’t have been surprised when the tiger pounced…

“If you are such a harlot, let’s go upstairs then!”

He slammed a pile of coins on the table with a force that took me off guard. Face to face with a tiger… Best way to describe the look on his face. An angry tiger… and I was pinned. Figuratively of course, though I am not sure I could move under that glare.

It was a stunned look that met his. He Didn’t even budge. Deadly serious. He was calling my bluff. He -dared- me to take the coins. To prove my own lie true. To prove I was a harlot… he challenged… and finally I answered.

“Shove your bloody coins up your arse!”

My venom matched his now. I was angry. Now the viper was pinned. Her bite, for all it’s venom was useless.

“Exactly.”

We stood there, the table, and the coins between us, glaring at each other. Chocolate burst into tears, Princess looked on in shock. I am sure most of the Tavern was now giving us their undivided attention too. Were it not for my stubborn pride, I might have walked away. The look on his face challenged me to run. I had lost one battle. I wasn’t backing down now.

"You choose not to then? You make a -choice-?"

“Right, a choice.”

"Does not sound like a harlot to me. My money is perfectly good."

“So is your marriage.”

Brilliant Scarlett… state the obvious. Bravo. Scarlett… genius wordsmith extraordinaire! Bow to her supreme wit. Drowning.

“So why a harlot then?”

“Because if it were any other time, and I didn’t respect you or your wife… Bloody Hells! Never mind.”

Yes indeed, brilliant. Not like the implication wasn't there. I degraded to glaring at the coins on the table, and drained my wineglass before promptly refilling it.

“Say it.”

Another challenge.

“I -choose- not to.”

I snapped back with a sneer. Princess, after watching in muted shock, made her polite good byes and scurried out. Chocolate was crying again. Platinum wasn’t a heartless bastard… He broke from our spat long enough to offer her a comforting glance at her. I, on the other hand, was riled up.

“What the hells is the difference between taking coins on the table for a toss upstairs, and a poem for every gods damned other thing that gets handed to me on a bloody platter?! harlot's a harlot no matter what she sells.”

"You are no harlot. That is my point."

“So because I'm pretending to be something new and shiny, everything is just peachy, then?”

"Why do you call yourself a harlot?"

“Are you even listening? Sure, haven't done a thing I couldn't justify… But it doesn't bloody matter. Justification. Cheap way of blaming everyone else.”

“You made a choice back then too. To live. To sacrifice and become something you were not, forced by evil men.”

Sure… I get it. I wouldn’t have become a harlot if I had a choice. Maybe I did though. Could have run off rather than waiting for mother to decide she cared. Could have let them kill me. Would have been preferable most nights and most days…

"To live."

“Hells, Platinum all I did was trade one cage for another. Sacrifice. Sure… I've sacrificed so much…”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"Your body. Your dignity, or else you would not have a problem with it."

The anger had left his voice, and I chanced a look at him. He continued to make his point, I continued to be obstinate.

"But you do have a problem with it, or you would have taken my offer."

I crossed my arms with another scoff.

“That isn't a sacrifice. That's just human nature.”

I finally met his gaze, and eyed him.

“I have a better question.”

"Alright."

“What would you have done if I took the damned coins?”

"I would not have offered if I thought you would."

“Because you are so sure I am such a good little girl.”

I rolled my eyes at him. My list of things I wasn’t proud of was inclusive of the list that I barely justified… and there was plenty I didn’t even try to. Long way to go before I burned off the rot and rose from the ash…

"You are no saint. But you are not the horrible, disgusting creature you set yourself up as in the depths of your heart. You are worth the time and effort of trying to help."

He looked to Chocolate, with his next words, they were obviously meant for both of us. I really hoped the mess between the pair of elves settled soon. I wasn’t sure if either of them could handle much more.

"You are not a monster."

He looked back at me, level and calm… no trace of the anger. I felt all the more like a scolded child, standing before daddy dearest, and getting her just dues for causing trouble. Made me wonder about the father that I obviously have somewhere… Wondered if he was the pile of rot that mother dear made him out to be.

"You are not."

Finally, the coins that I had been glaring at were gathered, and he put them back in his pocket. He had called my bluff… and I respected him for it.

"You cannot hope to become that phoenix without learning to forgive yourself."

“And what exactly am I forgiving? According to you its choices I didn't make. Cale and Anders? Rotters can pike off! Anders got his due, I am just sorry it wasn't my dagger that sent him there. Cale? If he managed to gather the pieces I left him in, and crawl back from the dead… I'll send him right back in enough pieces he doesn't come back again. And that makes me such a good little girl, now doesn’t it?”

Indignant as my anger was, I couldn’t help it.

"Forgive yourself for believing so little of yourself."

And that was that. The end of the discussion for the moment. Left me with enough to chew on. There was a buzz of an undead issue, and he and Chocolate went to check on it. The rest of the tavern either went about their business, or scurried off at the mention of trouble. Some looked at me disdainfully. Some with pity… Some like a man with coins to burn… Depends on who you ask, truly… If you asked Platinum and the others… I was something worth saving. I wanted to believe it so bad… but if you asked me? I would tell the stars, sis… That I was just a scared child… in way over her head.

Our next conversation wouldn’t come until later in the day. It would be much more productive, as I finally started to get the point. I can’t help but wonder how different things would have been for us, sis… If we’d have known one person, just one… like some of these I had met since leaving the City of Splendid Rot. He’s not a bad sort. People are lucky to be able to call Platinum a friend… Me too it seems. ‘Bout time my luck changed a bit. Might make it to that happy ever after yet…

There was a lot more talk about this dragon… Talk about Jake and some other things. In truth, I didn’t pay much attention. My mind was on the stars… among other things. Really was easier with you around, Seraphim. Wrote you a lullaby for those nights you spend between the moonbeams. Finished Platinum’s poem too. I think he will like it.

Who am I?

I am the Crimson Phoenix… someday, I will leave nothing but ashes of a past that I never chose… and choose to make something beautiful of what is left after I burn off the rot.
~~