The Dreamer's Notebook: Volume Five

[VanillaRose]

The following entries can be found within a small leather notebook that Selis Vhaire almost always carries upon her person. Certain sections have a colored string tied around the pages in order to keep the volumes separated. Each entry within the journal is clearly marked, and most are written in a steady, precise feminine script that bears the telltale slant of a left-handed writer.

Volume One

Hidden: show

Volume Two

Hidden: show

http://theswordcoast.proboards.com/thre ... s-notebook

Volume Three

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http://www.sundren.org/forum/showthread.php?p=84832

Volume Four

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http://www.bgtscc.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=8607

(( Note: Yes, this post is entitled, "Volume Two." I decided to post everything this time, so the numbers had to be changed to preserve chronological order. ))

[VanillaRose]

Volume Five

1 Uktar, 1350 DR

Over four years has it been since I have last dusted off this travel journal. Curiosity commanded me to glance at snippets of previous entries, and a rush of memories long thought forgotten swept over me. I thought of Zein; I thought of Jonas. I thought about the good times, the bad times, and all the times caught in-between the most vibrant times of my life.

I am not yet certain as to why I am back in the Western Heartlands, but here I have arrived all the same. I suppose the clichéd notion of bardic wanderlust applies to my current circumstances, although I feel that I am here due to some stronger, yet unknown compulsion. It is almost as if I was pulled back here by something or someone.

Regardless of the reasons, I am determined to enjoy the time - however long it may be - that I spend on the Sword Coast. I have no pressing obligations; I have no duties to which I am beholden. I am unattached and carefree, and I rather enjoy that sense of independence. I was naught more than a girl when I was last here, and with age and experience comes wisdom and clarity.

Enough reflective rambling, though!

Once I arrived back in the area, I learned that a masquerade was soon to be held in Beregost. I fondly recalled the time when I hosted a similar event at the White Mask, and I knew that I had to attend. I was fashionably late, of course, but my tardiness was not intentional. I let time escape me, and I was fortunate to find something presentable for sale in a local shop. (Note to self: I may have to send for my trunk of costumes if additional parties are held.)

There was a line of people waiting to enter when I arrived, but I was eventually able to purchase a ticket and enter the lavishly adorned manor. I walked into a crowded banquet room, and I was rather excited at the prospect making new acquaintances. I approached a young woman standing alone and struck up a conversation, but Imogen had to excuse herself shortly after we made introductions. A masked man flashed a smile at me, and we had just started to chat when another pair of revelers moved towards us with an invitation for drinks. The pair, whom I later learned to be named Llywelyn and Cheryl, seemed to think that the masked man, who introduced himself as Delphinn Veil, and I were a couple - and I was happy to partake in the charade! We four enjoyed a rather interesting conversation a bit to the side of the main venue, and soon we were joined by a splendid lady named Elvina.

Many of the things we discussed surprised me, especially the information I learned about my old companion, Selah Shartess. Delphinn mentioned that she was the Khazark of the Thayan Enclave at one point; Selah was always enigmatic, but I would have never thought her to be a part of Thay. Speaking with my new-found acquaintances provided me with a glimpse into the politics and who-is-who of the region, and while I have no real desire to get involved in any of the local affairs again, I have learned that what one desires and what one receives are often two very different things.

Delphinn was a delight, and I hope that he and I get the opportunity to speak again. It took me some time to realize that he was in attendance at the masquerade I hosted years ago, but I knew I recognized his name when he first re-introduced himself to me. We danced, and we laughed, and we entered the costume contest with a story that I created mere moments before I had to present it. We did not win, but the experience of entertaining on a whim again was thrilling. I sent the hostess a thank-you note to express my gratitude at attending the event.

I have a few places I want to visit, and a few people about whom I wish to inquire. Once those tasks are finished, well... the future is yet unwritten, but I hope the story will be a pleasant one. The third time is the charm, as the old adage says.

[VanillaRose]

28 Uktar, 1350 DR

What should I have felt the first time that I saw him again? I felt nothing, and yet I felt something. I felt the little rips and tears at my heart; I felt the anger and hurt bubble in my belly. I could not stand to be near him for long, because he clouded my existence. His return was so unexpected, and I was so unprepared for it, that I had to flee the Song of the Morning temple in order to breathe the crisp night air that set right my senses again.

What should I have felt when he whispered those words to me after hearing my song for him? In one uttered phrase, he simultaneously mended and destroyed me all over again. I felt empty, and I felt ashamed for letting him affect me. He disappeared into the night, and my heart lurched after him despite my protests.

What should I have felt when his letter arrived and he requested to speak? I was thrilled, and I was elated, and I was frightened beyond measure. I could not - no, I would not! - let him penetrate my carefully crafted defenses against him. We spoke, and I was intentionally, diplomatically distant. I retreated into my stubborness, and I used it to buoy myself when wave after wave of his entreatments crashed against me. I refused his friendship, and I felt victorious for having done so. I refused his desire to keep hope that we might one day know peace with each other, and I felt shattered and self-righteous for my cruelty. I said farewell with every intention of never gazing upon his handsome face again.

What should I have felt when he angrily arrived at my door to reclaim my friend, his sister, who risked so much to talk with me? I denied her pleas as well; I maintained my defiance towards his idealistic notion that he and I could one day function as 'friends.' How could I settle for his friendship when I had known his love? He was not himself, and I had to ensorcel him into calmness so that she could tend to the source of his ire. The way he looked at me, beautiful eyes filled with horror at the thought that he might have harmed me in his affliction, almost caused my knees to buckle. I wanted to embrace him, and I wanted to reassure him that I was fine. I did neither. Instead, I stayed silent and still as he disappeared from the room and my life yet again.

What should I have felt when I heard the sweet confession of love from someone who was not him? I should have denied it, but I did not. I embraced it. Why? Having someone look at me with love and affection was the remedy to an illness I had long possessed, and I willed the truth aside in favor of safety and comfort. I could be happy with this man. I could be cherished and adored, and I selfishly yearned to experience the joy that accompanies the first blush of romance. I professed my adoration, and I made promises that I knew I could not keep. I was unfair, and I felt the gnaw of guilt at my conscience.

What should I have felt when he returned to my door, angry and discontent with the knowledge that I had chosen to chase happiness again? His harsh words and his accusations towards me wounded me to the core, but I was too weak - both physically and mentally - to raise my voice. Instead, I agreed with him, and I told him that I had heard the same things in the past when his elves used the same harsh words and leveled the same accusations about me to him. The look on his face was mesmerizing, and I felt victorious. He relented, in the end, and he promised me that he would not interfere. Never have I felt more disappointed to have him agree to my demands, but there was no hope for us. I had to try - at the very least, I had to make the attempt - to love someone else other than him. I felt I deserved the opportunity, and he graciously granted it.

What should I have felt when he changed his mind? His words, earnest and heartfelt, caressed my ears and set my senses on fire. His nearness was intoxicating, and I could not resist him. He laid himself bare as he apologized for all that he had done, and I felt every last sliver of bitterness drain from my soul. Never have I been able to deny him; he holds such power over me. I forgave him, even if I never said the words, and he knew. He knew that I still loved him and that I had never stopped loving him. He knew that despite my insistence otherwise, I had kept hope. And I knew, too, that despite everything that had happened between us and the time we spent apart, nothing had changed for him. All he had to do was look at me in that certain way, and every single barrier I had built to defend against him crumbled into dust. We were always dangerous to each other in that way.

What should I have felt when he reminded me of his obligations to his family? I felt shamed, because I knew that I was selfish for still wanting him after all these years. His face was grief-stricken, because he knew what was best for him to choose, even if that meant returning to a lie of a marriage. I felt the fire that had started earlier within me fade into nothingness, and I readied myself for what I told him would be our final farewell. I could not see him again, because to be so near to him and not be able to possess him was the worst kind of torture. In another life, I told him as his hand gripped the knob of the door that would usher him back to his safety, perhaps we would find each other again. I did not believe myself. He would be lost to me forevermore, and we both knew it.

Oh, what should I have felt when he opened the door but did not step through it? I felt everything, because every single emotion in existence raged battle within me when he came back to me and claimed me in his arms. How can two people exist as we do? There is no logic to be found for us. We live on the edge of reason, and we madly cling to each other lest we fall into the void. For four years, we have languished in that void, but somehow - by the Gods, some way! - we have found our way back to each other. The coming days will not be easy, as we will fracture the lives of others in ways that will never fully mend. We are not without remorse, but the need we have for each other is too great to be refused any longer. We have stepped past the threshold, and there is no return.

What should I feel towards him? The spectrum of emotions seems too limited when placed in contrast to the way I feel when I bask in his radiance, and for all my talent with words, I lack the ability to describe our love in a way that properly exalts it. We are bound and intertwined, soul mates until the end of our days, come whatever may.

There is no one else for me but him.