The Pursuit of Knowledge - Alexandra Keenan

[TarnishedSoul]

I dreamed.

We were in Waterdeep, in a villa that bordered a body of water. A lake? The sea? I am not certain. But this was your family home. I could see a small pier and the glittering lights of nearby manors.

We were there because you received a letter. I remember stark white parchment - expensive and rare - and yellow and lilac colors. Heraldry, perhaps? Your father was displeased with you and bade you return home. You brought me with you.

He disliked me the moment he saw me, and his disdain was palpable. You look like him; you have the same arrogance. His hair was salt and pepper with more salt than pepper. He was handsome, but he was cruel. I did not like him at all.

He wanted you to disrobe and join him in prayer. There was a whip in his hands. I felt white-hot anger course through me, and then I felt gentle hands upon my shoulders. A woman, matronly but kind - your mother? She liked me, and I liked her. She told me that I could not interfere - that you and he had to undergo this rite of passage. There was so much tension, and I was afraid.

You and he knelt together. Harsh words were exchanged, but I could not hear them. I saw the storm clouds roll across your face. Your father emphatically pointed at a ring on your left hand - ornate and beautiful. I knew what it meant, and my blood turned ice cold. He then tried to grab for the token that I just gave you; you were wearing it as it was meant to be worn: on the chain around your neck that also bears the symbol of your faith. My love, and your faith, forever intertwined. You refused to relinquish it, and the whip in his hands was raised.

I tried to break free; I tried to run to you. I could not move. I felt the leather bite into your skin - my skin. You grimaced and bore the punishment in your usual stoic, resolute way. His arm lifted again, and I cried out. I still could not move.

He looked at me with pure, unrelenting hatred. Interloper. Commoner. Unfit. He was on his feet, and then so were you. Trickles of blood were oozing through the magnificent white tunic that you were wearing. You looked so handsome; you looked so enraged. I understood your need for control.

He took a step towards me, and the whip raised high above his head. I tensed, but I did not look aside. I was defiant. Let him strike me! The pain never arrived, because you caught his arm. You were stronger, and you had found your strength. "No more," you growled at him, and his eyes went wide. I felt your mother's hands release my shoulders. You removed the ring and tossed it at his feet, and then you were grabbing my arm so that we could depart.

It was done. You were free. I smiled.

And then I woke.

[TarnishedSoul]

In your arms, I die a little death.
There is a void, and the the world ceases to be.
And then in my ear comes your ragged breath...
...coaxing life back to the fore as you revive me.

*

You lift me upon broad shoulders to that I can touch the stars, and then you force me back down again so that we can gaze at them together. Yet, when you are wounded, you turn to me for my strength - and I find that nothing else matters except protecting you, because you would do the same for me.

Let the naysayers spew their vitriol. Their words do not matter.
Let the doubters laugh and sneer. They do not matter.

Woe be unto anyone or anything that causes you harm, for my wrath is fierce and unrelenting.

*

She better leave the region before I see her, lest I rearrange her pretty face.

I know. I know that you would have me stay my hand and keep still my sharp tongue, but how dare she? What right has she? How much disrespect can be tolerated? What would you do if someone from my past uttered such terrible things?

*

No, you are right. No good can come of a confrontation. I will not lower myself to that level. I have everything, because I have you. You have everything, because you have me. We have each other.

*

What about just one slap? No? Fine. There are other slapping sounds that are much more preferred, anyhow. (Naughty!)

*

Lulluby for My Lover

"Knight of mine, don't you cry."
"Knight of mine, dry your eyes."
"Rest your head, close to my heart..."
"Never to part, sweet knight of mine."

"Darling one, when you play..."
"Pay no heed to what they say."
"Let your eyes sparkle and shine..."
"...never a tear, sweet knight of mine."

"If they knew all about you..."
"They would love you, too."
"All those people who scold you..."
"...what they would give just to hold you."

"From your head down to your toes..."
"You are the light of my life, goodness knows."
"And you are oh-so-precious to me..."
"...perfect as you can be, sweet knight of mine."

*

Always you. Forever you.

[TarnishedSoul]

"We cannot become what we want by remaining what we are."

It is fear that grips me, I realize. Fear of the unknown; fear of failure. I have grown comfortable and complacent, and I am uncertain how to rid myself of the shroud that surrounds me. All I can do is ask for aid and hope that I receive it.

What is it about this time of year that evokes such reflection? As I placed quill to parchment, I realized with astonishing clarity that I was poised to write the same words, albeit in a different manner, that I have already written.

What have I learned in a year? Much, it is true, but I have also stubbornly, willfully persisted in my antiquated and old-fashioned fears. The voices of others have raised in a cacophony around me, and they have told me - with blunt, uninhibited candor - that I am wrong. And I, in my youthful ignorance, set aside my logic and rational thoughts and devolved right back into the same scared little girl whose mother confessed heart-breaking truths. I ignored the facts that were presented to me, and I shunned the well-meaning aid that I claimed I wanted.

Enough.

When outside forces threaten us, I am quick to say that I am not afraid of the path that we have chosen to walk together - and I am steadfast in that belief. Why, then, have I been completely and utterly unable to apply that same sentiment to the rest of my life - to our lives? Why have I been so afraid and fragile? When did I become the embodiment of everything that I told you I would never be?

Enough!

Yestereve, during a conversation with my people - people who love and care for me and you - my eyes were finally opened, and this day - this dawn - has never looked brighter. Today is the day that I no longer take for granted all of the blessings and privileges that I have been afforded; today is the day that I no longer take for granted the love that you and I have fought so hard to find.

Today, my love, and for every day forevermore, is the day that I will be happy.

[TarnishedSoul]

Droplets marred the report that she just read, and she swiped her hands at her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. He sent a report, she thought to herself, and the mental note was a mixture of amazement and disbelief. She was prone to sentiment, and he knew it, and he capitalized on it. He knows what delights me. He is clever.

Abruptly, the seated woman reached for her well-worn notebook and opened its pages to the latest entry, which appeared to be a small list consisting of three words: sweetlips, clever, Erinyes. While she occasionally jotted notes here and there, it had been a long time since she had written from the heart. The energy required to give her innermost thoughts a written form escaped her, and she was far too busy to -

Excuses. That's what he'd say, with his nonchalant bravado, and he'd be absolutely correct. He unnerved her, and she wasn't sure why. The feeling was odd. He was odd. Why was he so odd? Why did he look through her as if all the carefully constructed, impenetrable walls did not bother him? Why did he look through her as if all those barriers did not even exist to him? She shivered despite the relative warmth of her office.

It was a trick. It had to be a trick. The last person who got close to her did so at the behest of someone else, and every word uttered was a falsehood designed to make her lower her guard. She was a challenge. She was a dare. History repeats itself. Stop letting him get to you, fool.

Her gaze went back to the multitude of parchments that he had sent her. The summary of the time they spent together impressed her, for she could tell that he had put forth effort. Why would he go through so much effort? It is a trick. It has to be a trick. Remember the things he has said. Remember who are his friends. The words conjured emotion that she could not easily deny, and she felt odd again.

With the same abruptness that she initially reached for her notebook, its pages were swiftly closed. She would not write of how she felt when they embraced, because how she felt did not matter to him. She refused to glorify the con; she refused to be smitten with its instigator. Yes, she had fun, and he seemed -

But -

(No, Alexandra. Not again. Not this time.)

She placed the submitted report into a desk drawer and then covered the parchments with more parchments until the memory was buried.

[TarnishedSoul]

Subject: Cosimo Delucca - Sorcerous Sundries

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Well, that was certainly unexpected.

[TarnishedSoul]

He sleeps beside me right now, blissfully unaware of the small disturbance I caused when I stirred just enough to reach for this well-worn notebook. He sleeps in a bed that is ours, in a home that is ours, in a city that is... his, but it will become ours if, when I continue down this path. I have pangs of remorse mixed with flickers of hope, and I would be a liar if I said that I was not frightened of what happens next. I planned, prepared, outlined all that I would accomplish, and he was not a part of my plans.

Plans change, though, and I must change with them.

I do not know what subtle hand guided me to agree to his invitation for drinks and conversation. He, an enemy in my mind, surely wanted to cause trouble. He wanted to goad and mock and judge, and I had nothing else left to lose - or so I thought at the time. He surprised me by giving me options for the venue; I surprised myself by trusting luck. I rolled the die, and he said that an adventure awaited us. Understatement! I could not help but be intrigued by his enthusiasm, but I suspected a trap. What was his game? What was his ploy? I crafted contingent plan after contingent plan in my mind; I ensured that I informed someone of my whereabouts and with whom I would be traveling. I took precautions, because he was my enemy.

I am not sure why I was so open and honest with him. I suppose I felt that I had nothing left to lose; his words could not hurt me anymore. I knew what he thought of me, and my leadership - or lack thereof - and my apathy at the entire situation loosened my tongue. He did not prod and press as much as I suspected, and he complimented me during our excursion. I distrusted his flattery. I distrusted him, because he was my enemy.

Candle-marks passed as if they were heartbeats, and we made memories that neither of us will forget. He stood guard as I explored some duergar ruins; he gifted me a mushroom; we 'fooled' some drow into thinking that I was his apprentice; I drenched him with water to 'display an ability at cantrips.' That the ruse was later exposed did not lessen the impact of the moment, because it was the moment that I had to trust him. Every sense I possessed was heightened, because I was unarmored and minimally warded. He could have easily exposed my disguise and taken me captive with those drow, but he did no such thing. He kept me safe, and I thought that maybe - just maybe - he may not be an enemy.

Somehow, we ended up at the tree. It will forever be our tree, even if others claim it. When we first arrived at the cave near our tree, I remembered my bearings and recalled seeing it during a trek with... my people. My family. I made a comment to him; I spoke of the eloquence of a golden, warm thing trapped on all sides by the unrelenting, harsh cold of the mountains. We stepped outside to gaze upon the oddity, and he likened me to the tree in the way that I had just described. He was right.

We spoke at length, and I confided things in him that I had never spoken to others. Why? What loosened my tongue? Why did I freely offer to him, my enemy, information that he could have used to ruin and ridicule me? All of it was the truth, and the truth... the truth could never hurt me. Only the lies, the half-truths, and the assumptions could erode my spirit. I wept when I spoke of the past, and of the hurts, and of the pressures and responsibilities that I never wanted but begrudgingly accepted. He sought to comfort me, to offer me a simple hug to console me, and I refused him. I did not want his pity. I did not want anything from him.

He persisted, though. He refused my refusal, but he did not grab me or force me into his arms. He spoke to me, he listened to me, and he heard me. Everything about him was earnest and sincere, but still I denied him. Why? I have hugged others, on rare occasions, but the gesture is an intimate one. I did not know him well enough to invite him into my personal space. I did not trust him enough to make myself physically vulnerable to whatever plan he might have concocted. After all, he was my enemy.

I grew weary, and I grew annoyed. I relented, and I told him to do as he wanted and embrace me. I would sate his desire to comfort me, and that would be the end of it all. But he did something then that I did not expect: he stepped back from me. I was confused; he saw it in my eyes. He explained to me that it has to be mutual, and that he would meet me in the middle. The rest was up to me.

I deliberated, and I stalled. I studied him. I formed contingent plans for a dozen scenarios in case he tried to harm me, to push me off the mountainside. He waited, and his patience unnerved me. Why did I need so much courage to take a step towards this man? I needed it, but I found it, and I took a step closer. He met me in the middle, just as he promised, and we embraced.

It was not a pretty embrace, at least not at first. I was stiff, awkward, and armored with something far stronger than mithril. I barely touched him, and I expected a rebuke. I never received one, though. All I heard was his voice, asking me if I felt the moment. I never answered, at least not with words. I felt the moment far deeper than anything I had ever felt before in my life, and its power did not require a response. The tension dissipated from my limbs, my head found his shoulder, and we simply held each other beneath the warm, golden tree on the cold, harsh mountainside. Time ceased; I have no idea how long we embraced. Was I lulled into serenity by his heartbeat? I do not remember how much time passed. All I know is that we were both lost, blindly wandering in this lifetime, until we found our way back to each other again. In that moment, two broken halves became whole.

That is what happened at the tree, and the Gods know what I write is true even if mortals shake their heads in denial. Even we shook our heads in denial, so I cannot blame the people who were not there and did not feel what passed between us. It took us time to accept the truth, too. Why him? He was my enemy! No, he was not my enemy. He was simply lost and trying to find me again, and he cried out in a way that I could not ignore.

Our people did not, do not understand it. I am saddened by their anger and denial, but I can accept their perspective. On the surface, our love does seem insane. It seems like a trap, a trick, a ploy, a ruse. It is none of those things. It is pure, and raw, and wonderful to the point where the intensity of it all simultaneously frightens and exhilarates me. Tiny dragons dance in my blood; I feel the queer duality of wanting to trill melodious, magical notes but finding my breath caught in my throat. Whenever we are parted, I yearn for the all-consuming comfort and peace that his arms grant me, and I savor the genuine affection, earnest compliments, and warm positivity that his presence radiates upon me. Whatever I have done to earn the way that he looks at me is what I want to do forevermore, because he is love, personified.

Our unexpected romance has caused ripples upon ripples, and it seems that people I called family no longer want to call me the same. Power and politics disguised as concern forced me to leave the place that I love in order to be with the man that I love, but I have no regrets. There is no greater knowledge for me to seek, protect, and preserve than the knowledge that I love and am loved in return.

There are things that I will miss, of course. The chant lulled me to sleep for a year and a half, and the noises of a bustling place like Baldur's Gate now seem foreign to me despite having been born and raised in the City of Splendors. I miss the people whose livelihoods were placed in my hands. I hope that they fondly think of me from time to time; I like to think that I served them well despite a few foibles here and there. No one can claim perfection, least of all me. I did try, though, and hearing her say that 'everyone in the keep' despised me and wanted me gone - all because I fell in love - will forever linger in my memories. She finally has what she has always wanted, coveted, for years even prior to my arrival in these lands. I wonder if it will bring her happiness. I wonder if all the people who hoped and prayed and jeered for this turn of events will know happiness, too.

I genuinely hope that they do, because if their euphoria contains even a shred of the emotion that I feel right now, as I write in the dim light while the love of my life soundly sleeps beside me, then the world will truly be a better place.

[TarnishedSoul]

"If your time to you is worth saving...
...then you better start swimming...
...or you will sink like a stone -
for the times they are a-changing."

The fortune teller told us what we already knew, but it there was a certain amount of catharsis in her words. Whatever we face, we will face it together. Whatever must be the choice, we will make it together.

A month has passed; a month ago, what started as a flippant invitation for drinks and conversation turned into the best adventure of my life - his life, too. I am fortunate to have him, and I know that he feels the same about me. We understand each other. We support each other. We fight for each other, us against the world. I hope that the world eventually stops fighting back, because no amount of petty politics can sever our bond.

There are mistakes that I need to correct; there are people to whom I should atone. All the misinformation I received clouded my judgment, and I acted upon what I was told by someone I trusted - someone others still trust. With the clarity of hindsight, I realize that I was a pawn who grew into a more valuable piece - a piece who no longer needed or wanted to be controlled. I should have trusted my instincts the moment the tome found me, because that was the moment when everything changed. I was too naïve; I thought that I could make a difference without playing the game.

Cosimo tells me to keep faith, though. He tells me, "Together, we can do anything." And I believe him, even though the road ahead seems daunting. I am afraid, but I know that he will be with me come whatever may. The times have changed, and I must do better. Not just for him, although he is my pillar of strength. For myself, too, because I do not want to be this person who so many people seem to hate. I want to be happy; I want to enjoy life. And I will - with him. Together.

[TarnishedSoul]

(Take a breath.)

I tried to cry for help, but no sound issued forth. I could taste the salt water. I could taste the fear. Instinct forced me to move my arms and legs in a vain attempt to keep my head above the churning waters, but even the light weight of my mithril plate was too heavy.

(Take a breath.)

The voices were muted and seemed beyond my reach. Were there voices? Or just his? I cannot remember. Only he was frantic. Everyone else seemed calm. I felt the cold shred my skin like a thousand knives even as I struggled. He cannot save me. They will not save me.

(Take a breath!)

Darkness folded over me. I could hear the pounding of my heart get slower and slower. I was so tired. I did not want to fight another moment. Yes, peace, come to me! He will be fine without me. He will be better off without me. He will be happier without me...

(Please, take a breath...)

The icy sting turned into a soothing wave of warmth. I surrendered to it, and I made my peace with the pending torpor. My eyes closed, and I felt the last vestiges of consciousness get lost in the unintended gulp of sea water that filled my mouth. I could hear him scream my name. I am sorry, love, but you will be happier without -

(....................)

Something happens. Movement. I do not remember. I am at peace.

(....................)

(Did I just take a breath?)

Pain. I coughed water. My throat burned. I felt hands pounding on my back. Everything blurred. Why am I soaking wet and shivering cold?

Voices. His sounds relieved. I am relieved at his relief. He loves me. I do not know why. He would be better off without me.

I am somewhere within the ship. I expel the last of the sea water, and then I burn my throat anew with some sort of liquor offered to me. It was not a good idea. I did it again all the same.

She saved me. She went overboard as well, but she had the presence of mind to save herself and then save me, too. Why? I do not understand.

I do not understand.

(Why did I take a breath?)