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Ascent into Madness
#1

A small Sin'dorei woman sits at a table, her quill tapping against the page before her. The journal is fresh, the cover that of kittens. It was a gift for her birthday, one that had passed by unnoticed. Her head was tilted to the side and her face void of most emotions save for her curiosity.

She would start to write slowly, the words forming in Thalassian. Her stokes her precise as if she were painting a picture rather than writing words. Each word was elegant in a way, perhaps the only part about her that held any sort of grace of beauty.


Spoiler:
What is madness expect a way to pass the blame?

Many consider it a curse, a wrong. Madness is for those who murder without remorse, those who eat children, kill kittens and set fire to the homes of others. Their behavior is often considered odd, different in a sense. Perhaps it is their thinking, perhaps it is the way they move, but something about the person labels them to others as 'odd'.

Not all madness is bad.

To think different is a gift, not a curse. There is no sanity, for each person is insane in their own right. However, there are those who will suppress themselves to be what society deems as normal. Their spirits are crushed young so that they will conform. Their steps form a dull monotone drum, the beat never changing. There is no difference, no individuality.

Am I guilty of this? I have my hatreds. I cannot stand the gnomes and humans still leave me with a bad taste in my mouth for what they have done. I was, for the longest of times, the product of propaganda. I would hate as my race told me to have and love as my race told me to love. If not for my illness, I would be a drone.

My words, my erratic way of thinking and actions, they peg me as mad, insane. I try to turn a blind eye to what I am -supposed- to hate and focus on what I -do- hate. Does this get me in trouble? Often. I am looked down upon for my neutrality but I could care little about the thoughts of those who would condemn me.

We are all told what we can and cannot do, who we can and cannot like. This binds us, it restricts us. If a mage is told that they cannot teleport over a certain distance instantly, they will never try because someone else said it was impossible. Kodoshit! A mage is only bound by their mind, but schools stifle this notion early. They don't dare allow such things to be realized.

Madness is a gift if you use it as such. It is not something to blame for wrong actions. No one recolonizes themselves as insane, for what they are doing is normal to them. To admit insanity is to not know what insanity really is. The same to those who are admitting sanity. We do not know what the true line is, as it varies person to person.

Much like good and evil, madness is a perception. Everyone regards each others actions as being wrong, insane, misguided, so on and so forth. The Elf wielding a gun is insane by the standards of most farstraiders, but at the same time the gun elf thinks that using a bow is insane.

Madness is a tool to set yourself apart from others. To never let yourself be truly branded as a sheep, as a person who does not think on their own. Would you rather be a number or a name?

Brand me as insane if you will. I will embrace the madness, I will ascend into madness rather than descend into normalcy! I would rather be the villain then the nameless hero. Granted, this does not mean I'm going to go around and slaughter cute little girls.

I am not hiding who I am, no longer will I attempt to be as others view as normal.

Am I insane?

I hope.
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#2
Accidentally posted part of this earlier, derp!


The eyes of the small Sin'dorei snapped open in the wake of her nightmare. She managed to hold back a gasp as to not wake the male sleeping next to her. With slow movements, she would pull herself out of the bed, reaching for and wrapping a cloak around her body to fight the chill. Instead of lighting a candle, the mage held a hand out, arcane energy glowing around the palm and lighting the area just enough for her to see.

The disturbance seemed to have woken up a few of the cats who followed behind her. Reigen picked up her journal and pen before making her way to the door. She pushed it open just a bit before slipping out, several cats following along behind her. She walked just a few feet away and sat on a smooth stone hill.

The scene was somewhat eerie, several pair of glowing cat eyes around a Sin'dorei with a single glowing eye. The purple light of the arcane radiating around her body illuminated them only just. The journal was opened while the Sin'dorei woman scratched one of the cats behind it's ears.


"You are lucky not to feel the pain of dreams, nightmares. My children will never feel such things as well if I've anything to say about it."

The elf shook her head, her eyes speaking her exestuation. “It’s good to get out…walled spaces. I can’t stand them, but it’s not like he’ll allow me to sleep in the outdoors.”

Reigen took a hand off of the kitten’s head and started to focus on her writing.

Spoiler:
Once more the terrors of the night have killed my will of sleep for the moment. My sense of safety is compromised in those walls. I feel suffocated almost, as if the walls were slowly caving in on me and shutting out my supply of air. I feel a pain in my chest from where the drake had dug its claws. Not a very fond memory of mine, all things considered.

I know I ought to wake my husband up for such fears, but he’s had a rough night so to speak. I’m sure he’ll tell me I should have woken him up regardless, but there are some things he could never understand. These fuzzy creatures around me are oddly comforting, they have a level of understanding that no humanoid creature could possibly have. Something about them screams comfort and there is a hint of concern in their eyes. It’s like I’m a child again, all I’m lacking is a graveyard.

I should get one of those started…as morbid as it sounds.

I dreamt of all the times I was insulted for my strangeness, for my lower status in the culture of the Sin’dorei. The faces are blank, many of them dead from the invasions or by my own hands. It’s something I regret, but at the same time I don’t. I remember the insults, the most commonly used term of ‘whore’ around me because I refused to scramble and lick the feet of nobles for any sort of coin..

I really do hate nobles.

I remember the times where I struggled to feed my daughter and myself after the third war. Every sniffle and every cough would send me into a panic attack, the walls of the empty home not helping at all. I was jousted for…’favors’ a few times, blasted nobles. We made ends meet somehow without the gold of those assholes. The taunts still ring in my ears to this day.

It is amazing how much the pain of these memories hurt more than a blade could ever dream of doing. The games of the mind, they harm me even if it is my own mind playing them on me. To think of what one of those shadow priests could do to me sends shivers down my spine.

I wish I could experience true dreams like others; instead I resort to drugging myself so that I have no dreams at all. I used to watch my daughter in her sleep; giggling at wherever world she was in. I admit jealousy at her, though it’s nothing I would ever take away from her.

Not only the dreams of the mind, but that of heart.

My goals and dreams have long since died, they are impossible for me to reach. Each day draws a darker dawn for me of my depression. My student won’t listen to me, my daughter is grown and even my cats will die in a blink of my eye. It is depressing to see Krilari receive something he has wanted while I am sitting here with no real purpose to my life.

Long past are the days in which I dreamt of striding into Silvermoon as one of the Magisters, to seek council with others and to have young elves seek me out for teaching. I pictured a large home and many friends, wearing red and gaining the respect of those around me. I dreamed of making a difference. I saw my name on books; I saw becoming something the city could be proud of.

And now I am a shell of what I had once strived to be.

Then there are those who would call me a liar for what I do, they think that I am not true to myself. I admit, I do hold myself back for the sanity of those around me. It is all I can do until the day I am able to be free, to express myself in a way that will make the world notice me. Perhaps then they will know that I have a beauty on the inside…perhaps I won’t be judged by my looks.

My mistakes cost me this…

It is depressing; perhaps I shall end the subject for now. I feel…numbness in my body from thinking too much on this. It’s almost as if I’m bleeding.

I hurt.

The elf slammed the book shut, a hand darting up to feel her eyes. Since the start of her writing, tears had formed and had started to side down her scarred cheeks. Reigen shook her head and stood, setting the book to the ground. The arcane glow around her body continued to glow as she walked closer to the edge of the cliff. The cats remained behind, staring at their mistress.

Reigen gathered up the arcane in her hands, clenching her fists for a moment before she sighed, her body drooping in depression.


“Am I even anything on the inside? What does my mind show, butterflies, ravens, swans or vultures?”

She held her hands out, her eyes closed. She released the energy into the air only to see no shapes formed from the drifting arcane. “This is the price of Sin, eternal regret, nothingness.”

Reigen dropped her arms to her side, the wind causing her hair and cloak to drift in the wind. “Maybe one day…” She sighed and returned to her journal and cats to sit. She would remain there well into the morning until her husband would at last search outside for her.

“One day I’ll touch the stars.”
[-] The following 1 user Likes Reigen's post:
  • ThePharaoh
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#3

Sleep escaped Reigen for the second night in the row despite her exhaustion and frustration. This time the small elf found herself not in the tower but on the soothing land of Nagrand. The two were in an abandoned building with an open ceiling. For once she wasn’t fully compelled to go outside though decided to do so anyway.

Up the ramp she went, a candle in one hand and her journal in another. On the roof of the old armory were a few leaves from the tree. Some scattered around in the wind while others became stuck in some nooks. The small elf sat on the edge, her feet dangling over the side. The candle and its holder were set to the side in order to provide her with a little light.

Before she opened the journal, Reigen peered up at the stars. Her eyes held a bitter acceptance rather than the wistful gaze of normal. The one cat she had decided to bring pattered up the ramp soon after, choosing to sit on the other side of the candle.

The glowing eye darted back down to the book that was soon opened to a fresh page. The quill found itself in some ink before the woman would start to scribble on the page. The start of the page contained not words, instead scribbled down was a drawing of a dead swan.


Spoiler:
I really have failed in all I try to do.

Sanguis, my brother, you have refused my help when I offered it. Yet I still feel as if I have committed a terrible crime but not agreeing to aid you in your quest for bloodshed. You were right when you said I have changed. Not too long ago I would have stopped everything and helped you take down anyone who was in your path. Now I sit here, wondering how to stop you without killing you.

Is it even possible to do so? I betrayed you to Jidaeo and the human. They know you’re name and they know you’re relation to me. Will they trust me after hiding the truth for so long? I doubt it, and I earned their distrust. There are so many things I could have prevented had I chosen to do the right thing rather than what I wanted to do.

How many lives could I have saved?

A burden on my soul they are, brother. Even if you do not feel remorse for what you have done, I feel the pain for you. How can I not when it’s my own fault you’ve treaded down this path in the first place? Had I not taken father from you…had you been able to meet him…he would have set you straight.

You jab at me for this fact often, the fact that I killed our father, my family. I am thankful my two younger sisters were spared my wrath. I am thankful they will never know that it was I who had done the crime. It is a fact that will forever haunt me. So many regrets…so much shame…so much sin.

If only the past did not exist…but it still does.

There is nothing I can do to change that I have done. How many lives have I ruined in my path for vengeance, my hatred of everything?

And Jidaeo…

How many innocents have I helped end in your name for your family. What if many of them were out for vengeance for a wrong that you had done to them, that your family had done? Why am I only starting to care about their side? Was I so blinded by devotion and desperation for a companion?

I’ve broken so many promises to everyone. I promised Zariel never to let harm come to him, yet there he is locked in a cage by my own brother. He is going to be forced to kill people for his own twisted family. I couldn’t save him from that.

And what of my brother? I promised to help him get out of his situation but I was too slow. Now he acts in desperation and malice. I promised never to sell you out yet I have! They know brother, please, hide and don’t come out. I’ll never scry you again, I’ll never let you be found with my aid.

But that means I betray Jidaeo, the very many I’ve spent so many years serving. I have gone though so much of my own blood just to prove that I was loyal.

Would they do the same for me? Would they harm their own family for me?

I…

Somehow I doubt this. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do at this point. Who do I help? Who do I believe? Am I simply a tool for both sides of this conflict? What of all those I have killed who have warned me not to get involved. They cared for my safety; this could have all ended so long ago had I not interfered.

I’m afraid.

If I chose one side…I lose another. I don’t like feeling so hopeless. If I aid Sanguis, then Jidaeo will die and Zariel will be ruined. If I aid Jidaeo…my brother will die and Zariel will be angry. No matter what I do, there will be nothing for me to be proud of. And if I do nothing…

Then I’ll be alone, a traitor to both.

I don’t even think I’ve been a good parent. Relly grew up without so many luxeries that many other children have. Does she resent me for it? I could have done better…am I doomed to repeat these mistakes with my second? Will I be a failure?

This life has made me so spoiled.

I’m trying to clear my mind with a break, to spend some time with my lover of so long. Thus far I fear that I’ve only harmed him as well. All these thoughts are caving in my head, I don’t feel anything but sorrow and he blames it on himself for his promotion. Here we are in paradise, yet I feel as if I was on the other side of the world from him.

I wish I wasn’t sick…

I wish I could get away.

I’m so selfish.

The small elf stares up to the sky, her expression still heavily burdened with her thoughts.

“Can I kill my brother?”

Her voice echoed out to no one, the cat simply lifting it’s head to mewl at her before going back to it’s nap. The elf traced a hand over the markings on her face. “Do others feel as hopeless as I? Too weak to do anything.”

Reigen stood up and picked up the supplies she had brought with her. The candle was left on top of the stone structure as it was nearly gone by that point. The woman went down the ramp and set the book on the end table near her side of the bed. She gave a brief smile to her sleeping husband.

“There’s nothing you can do to be a stranger…yet I don’t feel like I belong anywhere…”

The change of robes were quick, the elf marching out the front door to the tall grass and wide fields before her. She stretched herself out and started to walk, forsaking her shoes no more than a few steps into the walk. Her pace would speed up the more her mind raced. She decided to do something she could never do before, not with her weakened body.

She ran.

The trees became a blur, the grass tickled her skin as she passed by taller patches. Even as pain burned in her body for the over-excreting she kept on. Her chest constricted, her legs felt as If they were on fire but still she kept on. Only when she reached the giant diamond, Oshu’gun, did her body finally lock up, the elf falling flat on her face.

Pained gasps were the only thing Reigen could manage until she turned herself over. She struggled to her kneels, crawling a few feet before collapsing in a heap once more. Her bare feet bled from the various stones of the path and the sticks on the ground.

She lay on the ground, her knees hugged to her heaving chest.


One day…

That day will never come.
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#4
Warning: The song has some language and strong implications of depressing topics. The post itself contains dark undertones.


As expected, Silvermoon wasn’t exactly known for its nightlife. Many things would close down as the sun would start to dip beneath the distant horizon. Those in the more shady businesses would crawl out from the darker areas to hassle those walking to their homes.

Even after so many years, litter from the scourge still was found in the city. The cries from those who had lost everything still echoed off the shining streets, the sound almost as haunting as the banshees of the Ghostlands. The ones who failed to repair their lives were under the various awnings of the city, taking whatever protecting from the elements they could get.

Drunken men stumbled around, evidence of their adultery plastered all over their person as they stumbled their way home. Others still were being thrown out from some of the Inns for presumable harassing a waitress. Even more were not making it home that night, their depressing bodies unable to move more than a few feet away from the bar before collapsing in sobs and hidden inner pain.

Even Silvermoon had its fair share of ‘scum’, those who were unable to help themselves after losing their family, their friends, and their will to live. They were kept under the radar, made fun of and ignored by the ‘perfect’ citizens. Even after nearly being wiped out, the city was still divided by those who were born with wealth and those who did all they could to feed their starving children.

Pity stabbed at the heart of Reigen as she watched another stumble her way out of the bar, a mother of three who lost her husband the same way she was losing herself. Even years were not enough to heal their hearts, her own heart. How could Reigen feel any pride at her own race that would leave their own to suffer for a difference in metal coins?


There are those who have suffered more than I have these past few years. I know their pain though, the pain I put myself though with the taint that is known as fel. They still have nothing to look forward to in the morning, no one to call their own. The humans…they caused such a pain to us only to have it turned on them.

No…I cannot blame the humans. The lust for power is the true culprit, a darkness in our own hearts…our own souls…our minds. Could anyone have resisted such a call? I have my doubts.


Reigen raised a hand to the bartender. She had been in the bar since the sun had started to drop, her husband having gone off to bed a while ago. Her insomnia would not let go of its grip on her, that much was evident by the dark rings under her eyes and her sluggish movements.

Another drink was placed in front of her, coins were exchanged and the bottle soon found its way to her lips. For once she was void of her mask, for once she ignored the comments about her face. The woman no longer cared for a fact she already knew. Reigen knew she wouldn’t make her way back home tonight, she’d not let him know that she had been drinking even though he protested it so.

Her mind felt fuzzy from the alcohol already, no doubt from her dry streak from her first pregnancy and raising the daughter on her own for so many years. The same threat hung over her head for the newest arrival. No matter how many times she was told that it would only be a few hours at most, the fear still choked her of having to raise another on her own.


I have everything.

I have a family. I have a fair amount of wealth. I have a home I can go to when I feel cold, a soft bed and silk sheets. I have respect, a reputation to those that had wanted to harm me. I had made a haven for those who needed it and still have such a thing for those who need it. Most have parted their ways already; I helped them find their way in this world.

My stomach is full of food when I require it, I am always clean and never have to bath in a cold river. I have books to read, supplies to paint, instruments to play and pets that love me. It’s not like I suffer at all…I lack friends, this much I will admit. I am rather lonely in that regard I suppose. That’s all I should feel, right? But…

Why do I feel like everything…

What’s wrong with me?


Tick…tock…

The hours of the night went by until at last she had to leave her liquid sanctuary. Her mind was fuzzed from the amount she had drank, though she did manage to convince the bartender to give her a bottle and two small glasses. The doors closed behind her and the lights went out. If not for the small amount of arcane glow around the brooms she would have tripped over the man who had been crying for close to three hours.

Reigen’s steps were far from straight though she managed to keep her head firm enough to be able to know where she was going. She ignored the shady dealers around the streets and left though the great entryway of the city. Following the path outside proved to be harder then she had first thought, but she trudged on. The further from the city she went, the less the feeling of suffocation was on her.

She had just passed Fairbreeze when she had to fight off the urge to sit down and finish off the rest of the bottle. She kept her head low and passed the guards without any hassle. They had larger worries on their minds; a stray elf wasn’t worth their time to send on her way home. Ahead of her was the river separating Eversong from the Ghostlands, her hold abandoned home. Perhaps one day she could reclaim it, but for now she could only pass by the bloodied path.

The small elf looked to the sky, the stars covered by the branches of the dead trees.


Everything is so meaningless…

Nothing I do has made a difference, to be honest. There are still those that suffer…those that I could help. Would they use me as the Novalights have? How can I trust these people again after that? I was right about all nobles, they are all scum, worse than any thief in the street. They steal to survive, nobles…they steal so that others may not have it.

I feel so empty…

Why do I feel like this? I have no reason to, but…I feel as if the moment I set this bottle down that I will come undone and shatter into pieces of nothingness with no one to pick me up and put me together again. I have my husband…but…

I just don’t know anymore.

I don’t know myself. I don’t know anyone…who is the truth…who is a lie?

I’m so confused…I’m so upset. I don’t know why! This empty feeling has no reason to have a hold of me. Why am I not happy with my life?

This is rather distressing…


The haunted forest almost reached out for her, branches scraping against her skin. Reigen left the path at last, her feet crunching against the brush and dead leaves. Luckily for her she was apparently too large of a threat to be attacked by the plagued creatures. The path she was taking was one she had used much in her childhood, but had long been forgotten since she left.

At last she came across the graveyard from her childhood. Just as she had thought, it had become overgrown with weeds from years of neglect. The bottle was set on the top one of the gravestones before she would move about and tend to the graves. The moon was in the center of the sky by the time she had finished.

Many of the stones had become cracked during the third war, though Reigen was thankful that none of them had been dug up and used. She went though the process of cleaning each stone off with water from a nearby pond. The names were worn down, though somewhat readable. Many of the graves contained the bodies of the many cats she had cared for over the years. Small skeletons lay around from the ones she had abandoned. They were soon buried with stones set over to mark the graves, each stone receiving a small kiss.


What is this world if but lies? There is no trust…there is no truth. Justice is a joke by those who wish to rule. Love is only a trap…a wonderful trap…but one that will sting at the first chance there is.

Is this a world that…that I even wish to live in?

No.


Reigen reached for the glasses and bottles and set them to the ground near where she would sit down. Her back pressed against the stone while the rest of her body went slack. She popped the cork of the bottle and a foul smell emitted from the strength of the drink. The small elf stared at the bottle as if it were some sort of demon.

To forget, to remember.

To love, to hate.

To live, to die.

Smiles, frowns.

Truth and lies.

Justice and chaos.

Love and hate.

Perceptions…there is no truth.


A bitter smile crossed the face of the elf as she poured the drink into the small glasses. She sat the bottle to the side and took the two glasses into her hand. Her glossy eyes looked up to the sky once more. It was vast and open as always and she found it easy to lose herself in it’s beauty.

“This is to the forgotten ones.”

One glass set against her lips as she took it down in one quick gulp. The liquid burned on it’s way down her throat and into her stomach. The other glass was tilted onto the dirt of the grave, sinking into the dead foliage and dry dirt. For ever drink the elf took, another glassful wound find its way onto the ground near her only to get sapped up by the thirsty ground.

“Time keeps going on…leaving us behind. We are the forgotten ones, even if I still walk the world.”

Morning would find the elf slack against the stone, the light breeze pushing her hair across her face. The bottle was well away from its original resting place and one of the glasses were broken against the stone. The other glass held drips of red in her hand, seeming to have been crushed in her grasp. Her breathing was slow, troubled and forced even in her dreams.

Only a haunted smile on her face gave any indication that her dreams had any sort of happiness to them.


I’m so tired…too tired.
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#5

The candle was the only source of light in the small room, it's light casting dancing shadows of the small elf sitting before it. It was raining again, though this came as no surprise for the one awake inhabitant inside. It was almost always raining in Hearthglen, not that she had any complaints. The rain was a comfort, it drowned out the moans of the scourge that lumbered around just outside of the encampment.

A worried look was cast over her shoulder at the sleeping male, only to relax once she understood that the light would not wake him. A soft smile would take hold to her face, almost as if to laugh at watching the man hog the blanket to himself.

Reigen would shake her head, turning her attention to the journal in front of her. Once more, the pen would artistically scratch across the page, art turning into words and words turning into the once again troubled story of her mind.



Spoiler:
I find myself offput by feeling like a child once again.

The words of that Orc burrowed into my own tainted thoughts and rooted into the center. It was not even a planted seed, but a young tree being planted. I never would have thought that a person so young could make me feel like a child reaching out for someone to comfort me. It's almost embarrassing, but I was just reminded that wisdom comes from age and not experience.

I will not lie when I say I hate my own existence. The things I have done, all the mistakes I have made still weigh heavy on my mind and I cannot forgive myself no matter how hard I try. I have no faith to turn to nor any shoulder to lean upon. To everyone else, forgiveness of myself should be as simple as thinking 'just learn from it'. They do not understand how it burns my very soul.

"Failure. Worthless. Pathetic."

These words often cross my mind over anything I try to do. My own thoughts taunt me about my own love. He was right to say that he has harmed me, though the pain was only escalated by my own tainted thoughts. I don't care about the words of others, but their words become my own opinions.

Krilari is always telling me that an artist is their own worst critic. Perhaps I take this too far with my opinion of myself. My own hatreds, my own pains have become marks on my body that only I can see. Others see me for how I am, yet I only see all the wrongs I've done. Will I ever be free from this?

Is there anything I can do?

Perhaps time...perhaps more words with the Orc...or maybe I should just give in and believe my husband. His words are wonderful for me, each praise to me is like being bathed in the Sunwell itself. I'm such a giddy child around him I swear...

I will speak with him when he wakes up, perhaps with his help I will understand why I think the way I think. If not him, maybe Endling...or even Clovis.

Clovis...

Will he hate me when I tell him what I once was, the deeds I have committed in the past in order to better my own personal gains? I have no doubt that he will, so perhaps I will never tell him. If I ever do, it will only be to explain why I think the way I do, why I argue with him so.

I must rest.

The journal would be shut as soon as the ink dried and the small elf would stand up with a stretch. A small spell and the light would stop it's flicker, dying down to make the home truly dark. Reigen would make her way to the bed, kicking aside a jar or two in order to lay down.

Sleep would not come to her, her mind too troubled by her own thoughts.


You will amount to nothing...

No. I will...I am. I am happy.

Nothing...
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#6
[[One more mentioning that she does not have evil voices in her head. She just has very bad self-doubt about everything. Also, too lazy to find a song for this post. Hurp. There is ONE cuss word at the very end, for warning.]]

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed until she woke up from falling onto her bed after the battle. Her wounds had been harsh and the attempted heal from the purple paladin only closed the wounds just enough to where she did not risk bleeding out anymore than what had already been done. She was still light headed, the room spinning as she rolled off the bed in a wobbly stand.

Pathetic…

Reigen shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts until her eyes set upon the blood-stained sheets in which her shoulder and back rubbed off on. The elf shook her head, pulling the sheets off the bed and throwing them into a corner. She would have to wash them before her husband got home.
Didn’t Clovis say he would come?

Worry crossed her face, but a jarring movement caused her to wince in pain instead. The elf rummaged around, finding bandages, creams and other such stuff for first aid. Her clothing was removed as she did her best to patch things up. Her shoulder was cleaned and bandaged first before she would attempt to do the same with her back. It was a hard job, even with the aid of two mirrors. She couldn’t get it all and hoped that infection would be avoided.

He left you to die…he’ll never come

The elf shuddered at her own thoughts, trying to shake them off as she stood to tighten the bandages around her back and chest. Both were soon to stain with what oozing blood still game from the wounds.

That’s not t-

You know it is…they all want you gone.

They want you dead.

Worthless!


The elf dressed in a light robe. Her expression dropped thought by thought, her normal ‘spark’ nothing more than a glint of it’s former self. The darker her thoughts turned the less she seemed to be herself. Reigen shook her head, fully dressed now and made her way to the door, leaving and walking out into the guarded city that is Harthglen.

Even your husband…always gone…

He has work to do.

He just doesn’t want you around.

None of them do.


The rain let out as soon as she was ready to knock on the door. Needless to say she was surprised when she saw Clovis just fine and holding Endling like a newlywed pair. She thought nothing of it, conversing with the two and regrettable shrugging off any concerns that either had of her. She felt spiteful, forgotten and still a bit light headed. Everything was fine until what Clovis said broke though her head.

"It's just...I was worried for you well being"

Lies, all lies!

Endling is tired, I do-

Your well being comes second to a rotting corpse!

I don’t think…

It’s true…they were annoyed to hear you.

Maybe…maybe they do.

You are nothing.

The elf left not long after, stumbling back out into the rain with an aching body. They worried about a cold, worried about her wounds when she herself didn’t care anymore. She didn’t return home either, instead choosing to sit out on a rotting stump for the duration of the rain. The water felt good and normally she’d feel wonderful in the rain, but not she only felt bitter.

Dark thoughts washed over her, her own self-doubt and self-hatred taking root in her mind and heart. When the rain stopped she didn’t even notice until a passing guard spoke his concerns. She only returned to an empty home then, washing the sheets, drying them by the fire and putting them back on the bed.


“Maybe I should never have come back…”

Suddenly, a sneeze came forward.

Ah shit.
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#7
You really are worthless.

“Get out.”

Clovis stomped out, followed by Endling without a second though. He was angry, that much she could tell, but so was she. In fact, she hadn’t felt that angry in a long time, so far as she could recall. Broken promises on top of her time with Krilari once more being cut short because she was too much of a pathetic little girl to take a few wounds. She had hoped for a fun time, but duty always comes before fun and now that Clovis was important, she doubted she would see him anytime soon.

They just don’t want you around. They did this on purpose, talking about it before they came here I bet.

She found herself unable to argue with herself any longer. Instead, she slammed the door open and walked out, ignoring anyone who attempted to speak with her. One forsaken tried it but found herself at the end of the small elf’s anger. She was snapped at before Reigen turned on her heels again and walked away, not wanting anything to do with the city.

You’re just a waste of space. Honestly, why did you even come back when everyone shoves you aside like you don’t have feelings? I think they liked it better when you were gone…

“Maybe they did. Maybe I’m really just that big of a waste.”

Even your trainer doesn’t find you important enough to speak with you more than every other week or so. You’re just doomed to fail.

“I really am…everyone else has reached their goals. And me? I’m just going to be stepped on for the rest of my life. I’m just going to be someone there to provide comfort to others when it’s good for them!”

She stormed out of the city, snapping at any guard who dare tell her it wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t care if it was dangerous, she didn’t care if anyone would worry. As far as she was concerned, she could be gone for weeks and no one would even notice. In fact, to her, they might even welcome the fact she was one more gone. Maybe that’s when the real party would begin.

Can you hear the cheers now, the freedom they’ll have with you gone? No more gold need to be spent on worthless trinkets to try to pacify how you feel. You won’t be a liability to them any more.

That much was too true, now that the gates were long behind her. She walked over the dead grass, the plague in the air much thicker outside of the city. She didn’t know how long she walked for; she would have kept walking if not for her illness draining her energy quickly. She found an old tree to sit on, said tree crushing several items that much have been there before the plague set in. She didn’t move from that spot, nor did she plan on moving.

They’ll just let me rot there.

They won’t come because they don’t care, and if they do come it will only be because of their morals.

So be it, if they feel pity enough to come, I’ll show them what their actions caused.


But I won’t have to worry about it.

They’ll never come.

The area around her would fill with soft music as she played upon her flute. There she would sit, not moving until someone came to retrieve her, if anyone would do such. Once more the little elf was left alone, only her dark thoughts to comfort her and only her dark thoughts to provide any reason for what had gone on.

She sat alone with only madness to comfort her.


I’ll forever be dirt.

Day 1 of 7.
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#8
Even during the day, the small cabin managed to be rather dark. The fire was put out as soon as the male of the house left. The light from the candles was also done, the small magi waving them out and the main window was covered by a sheet. Once the room was dark, save for one glowing blue shard, Reigen would sit down to write.

Spoiler:
Dragons are monsters.

I don’t care what color they are, they are all the same in my mind. The red is no different from the green, the bronze from the black; the blue might as well be all of them mixed together. I don’t give two shits about the color of their scales, their claws all feel the same way in the end. My survival from the attack was a case of pity and I think now I would have rather died then to know what I know now.

Can I honestly feel betrayed though?

He was a pawn of theirs before I came into his life, though had I known what he was when I met him, I would have sooner died to the Orcs in the forest than face the servant of a monster. Dragons to me are like demons to him, monsters that just all need to die. They all need to go into that little home of theirs and leave us all alone. They’ll kill us all soon enough, and he’ll be right there with them, laughing as his masters destroy this world once they become bored with it.

Was it all an act?

I bet he laughed it up and had tea with his master while I suffered from nearly dying. I bet even now when he sees the result of it, my ‘mental defects’, he can hardly contain a snicker. A pity case is all I am these days I bet. I bet he’ll try to taint our daughter and upcoming child with stories about how not all dragons are bad. Ha! They will know how much of a monster those creatures are. They’ve done nothing to prove otherwise.

I feel sick, almost.

I don’t want him to touch me anymore…not now. Not with knowing he’s a damned monster himself! I bet as soon as I stop being useful, he’ll want to kill me, he’ll want to finish the job that damned blue drake started. It’s just a game for him and his ‘friends’. I wonder how many around me serve the winged demons? Monsters…all of them. I hope every last one of those damned beasts and their pawns suffer a death as painful as how I feel at this moment. I hate them all…

I hate dragons.

I hate dragons.

I hate their pawns.

I hate lizards.

I should hate Krilari.

But why can’t I?

He’s one of them…he’s one of them. He’s a monster like them who I bet knew that it was going to come. I bet he knew that I was going to be attacked, but it was all a game for him. After all, I’m nothing but dirt…no. I’m worse than dirt as even dirt has a use to it! I’m just a thing that exists for the amusement of others, a thing that is meant to be a tool. I can’t even call myself a person because even people have uses.

I’m just a scapegoat, waiting it out until they decide that I’m no longer worth the effort.

There is no opportunity for the likes of me and I might as well resign as a teacher. There are those out there who can do it better I bet. I couldn’t even get one student to listen to me, how could I hope to get a class to listen to me? No…better to just let those who have a real presence pass on their knowledge. I’ll…turn it in tomorrow I guess. I really have no will to get up from this chair to do anything. I haven’t bathed in three days, I haven’t slept in four and the last thing I ate was a little bit of fruit that Krilari almost forced me to eat.

Keeping me alive as a plaything I wonder…there’s nothing that says otherwise.

I can’t even look in the mirror anymore to tell if I can see myself as I really am. I don’t want to see my own reflection anymore, my hate so great for myself and those around me. Would it even really matter if I saw the truth? Fel, that may even be a lie in order to make me feel better, I don’t know how much Krilari warped his little visions. I could look worse for all I know.

I feel so tired…so helpless.

What can I do?

Who can I turn to? I can’t tell anyone my sorrows…I don’t even have a friend to turn to. They’re all gone, all of them have abandoned me and left me trapped. Not like I could tell anyone if I wanted to. Walking up to someone and going “My husband serves the dragons even though one almost killed me” is just asking for someone to call me crazy or for him to be hurt.

Light…

Who can I trust?

Someone…please…help me. I don’t want to lose the only thing I have left, even if he is a monster…even if he laughs at my pain…even if I’m nothing more than a toy to him. I shouldn’t think this way…but there’s nothing to prove otherwise, nothing. Was I cursed from birth to have an illusion of happiness around me, one where I can no longer tell the real from the fake?

I plan on seeing a doctor soon, about my weakened body. Magic has been unable to help me thus far and I’ve heard of those who practice without magic. Perhaps that is what I seek, perhaps not. I have to try though; else I’ll never get any peace. I don’t know why I should though, but I will anyway. At this point, I just wish I could die, I wish I wasn’t with child so I could drift away into the darkness where I will become truly alive.

Maybe in death, I’ll know myself.

No.

That's a horrible thing to say. Remember Reigen, remember all the comfort he has given you. He's not a monster, right? He loves you, he really does. I can't let this get to me, but I hate the dragons so much. I hate the dragons but I love him. Light, I'm so confused, my head is numb and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I'm angry and I'm not. I'm happy he told me but I'm depressed to know. Of all the times I wish I was a priestess...of all the times I wish I could speak to the Light and be comforted.

I can't...my head hurts so.

I just want him to hold me and tell me it's all alright. Everything tells me to hate him, but I never will.

It just hurts.

The journal was left open to dry, least they stain the pages and become unreadable. The elf looked to the blue shard, her body bathed in it's blue light. She would pick it up and examine it with a tired sigh. Almost an hour would pass before she would lift her eyes from it, looking to the locked door.

"No knocks...there will never be a knock..."

Soon, sobs would overcome the women, the shard thrown into the ashes of the fire. It's glow was the only thing highlighting the women when she fell to the floor, not moving from the spot for what one might judge as hours.

Opportunity knocks...when you least expect it.
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#9
A small elf sat at a different table this time, various supplies set out on the floor and a fire going in the fireplace. It was a stressful past few days and she was glad to be away from it for once. Getting out of the blasted city of Hearthglen for a while was just what she and her companion needed. They could have a few stress-free days and just enjoy time together.

So she had hoped.

Even though they were far away, her face was still twisted with worry, her gaze tired and her body twitching for reasons unknown. Thankfully still her blonde haired companion slept on. Her eyes wandered back to his form on the bed for a moment, a ghost of a smile twitching at her lips before she would turn to the journal in front of her. After a few moments she would near whisper to the book. The cover would open upon it's own, flipping to a new blank page.

With a single candle lit, she would start to write.


Spoiler:
Sometimes knowing is worse than being left in the dark.

I know why I am ill, and I know why my thoughts plague me the way they do. One is impossible to cure and the other doesn't seem any more likely than the first. It's not as simple as he thinks, corruption does not go away at the snap at the finger because I didn't cast a few spells that I might have that day. It's a very twisting of our minds and sometimes body that just stays there. The very arcane that flows though my body feeds it and makes it what it is. If I didn't cast a spell for the rest of my life, I may still have the corruption the way it is now. As much as I hate to admit it, he's just a bit too hopeful about it.

And it's all the blue drake's fault as well.

Krilari says that when it nearly killed me the way it did, my body became overloaded with magic, or something like that. It forced my body into an advanced stage of corruption without me even knowing it. Instead I was fooled right away, thinking I had died and suffering as though I did die. I still feel such things and I can't get ride of the feelings. I've seen things that weren't really there for the longest of times, heard things that wasn't real and harmed myself on false facts. All because of that damned drake...what did I ever do to it to deserve this?

It's driving people away too.

These thoughts are what make me lash out against people so hatefully, this corruption has caused me to say things that were so false about people. There's no way I can explain them without sounding crazy either, I even thought Krilari assumed I was crazy after I first told him. Bless that man and how he still stands with me after all these trying years. I don't think I would have made it without him, I don't think I can ever make it without him. How long I wonder until he grows tired of the things wrong with me and finds a more normal lover?

Clovis, I wish I could apologize to you, but at the risk of sounding crazy I'd rather you hate me. Friendship between us is no good in the end, for you're just a human. You'll never understand the things I do because you're just a baby by my standards. You'll die so quickly and then you'll just be a memory for a thousand years or more. Granted, I still think you're unfit for the council because you are racist. You clearly hate the forsaken and that does not do the cities image good at all. If you cannot suck up your pride and see things from a political standpoint then you do not belong there. If it keeps up, I may have to start up a petition to remove you from the spot.

If it comes to that, I'm sorry, but you're unfit.

I'm so stressed out that it's hard to eat these days, even more now that I know the coming days are going to be hard with being told not to cast as much as before. The very thought of it makes me ill and makes me want to flee before the cutback officially starts. I need to get so many things set straight as well as continue with my Magistrix training. Perhaps I ought to write down a list...

1. Cut ties with Jidaeo once more.

I don't care of he hates me or not, I told him once before never to speak to me again and he does not listen. I do not care if he has business with my husband, he can talk to my husband in that case, but I do not want him to look in my direction or speak to me at all. I can't trust him, I do hate him and I think he's a damned idiot for what he does. I don't want to be associated with that, most of all with the public opinion the rest of the Magistrix seem to have with his family.

2. Cut ties with Zariel.

He doesn't need me, his family name and being associated with it is bad for me. I helped him one last time and now it's time to end such things. The boy has his own way of doing things and he seems to be on the right path, which is all I could ever hope for him. He's also no longer dating that human, which is also good. It just woulda ended in pain for him when she passed on from age.

3. Finish up my reading and writing for my classes.
4. Make sure this whole Red Glove thing passes over.

So far so good on this one, I got the doctor his safety, Annabelle is free and the head commander knows not to believe the report for that Haydee women. I think I've done about all I can do here unless I get more information. With any luck, those of the Red Glove don't even know my name, so I should be safe.

5. Eat more red meats.
6. Move around more.

This is all I can really stand to write about at the moment.

It will always be the same...

Reigen closed the journal, huffing a light sigh. She would looked out the door before she felt herself lifted from her chair. She wasn't given much protest before she'd find herself laying partly on the bed and partly upon muscle. She would attempt to speak, but found a finger to her lip and a shush came from him. After a few moments, she would give in and allow herself to fall asleep against him.
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#10

Goodbyes were said early in the morning between the small elf and her husband of many years. The routine was normal and simply enough, though he always found a way to change it up just slightly so they'd never feel like a machine going though the motions. He would leave a couple hours ahead of her, giving her time to prepare for whatever she needed to do. Once he was gone, she was left to nothing more than her own thoughts and the snores of a small tiger.

You've put this off long enough, you know.

The small elf known as Reigen would turn and walk over to the other side of the room in which there was a a full-length mirror covered by a cloth. Dust was upon the fabric and it had a very stale scent to it compared to the rest of the house. The elven remained paused before it, a hand stretched out as if to remove the fabric though not quiet touching it.

Remember his words. He would never lie.

A quick motion of her hands would yank the fabric off, the elf coming to stare at a reflection of herself. Instead of the arrogance one would expect her to have of her own reflection, the women looked shocked and even a bit paler than normal. A hand would come out and set against the mirror while her face went though a series of emotions.

Upset. Fear. Anger. Surprise until finally a smile would crack across her face. Where she once saw scars litter every inch of skin she had, she saw the smooth flesh that had always been hidden to her. Where she once had many lines of stress she could now see the wrinkles fading. The infections she had once fears had turned out to be nothing more than one of the many illusions she had been suffering from.

And it was all thanks to him that she no longer saw what she had always hated about herself physically.


You are free from it's torment, it has no hold on you. Embrace it.

"I am free."

Spoiler:
So much has happened since I last wrote.

I considering myself blessed with the very light that the glorious Sunwell pumps across this world. I have been given everything I wanted, everything I could have needed to make my life something worth living, something that I could look forward to waking up to each morning. I have a loving husband, beautiful children and for what friends I do have, wonderful friends.

Though, I should try to warm up and trust people more often.

I don't need the words of others to dominate my life. I don't need their whispers nor do I need to act how I think they want me to be. His efforts have unlocked the chains of binding that have long since held me down. With him, I don't need to reach the stars for I already have the sun.

Listen to me, gushing like a child given her first flower from the opposite gender. Has it truly been this long since I've felt content with myself? I cannot remember the last time that I felt like I didn't need to hide, perhaps when I was ignorant to the world and it's ways. For so long have I walked a path in which had no direction and no sense. He has put me back on the path that leads to a bright future.

I am Reigen Dawnsend. I am no longer defined by the actions I once committed. While I still hold regret, I will no longer allow them to hold me down as they once did. I have too much to move on from.

For once, I can say I am truly happy.

Thank you, Krilari.

P.S

I really need to find out more about that murloc I saw a while back. Was a rather fascinating creature and I was surprised to find out it could speak common. His quest certainly is a noble one and while I hope he succeeds, sometimes the end to a journey can be a bitter one. I'll have to make sure no one bothers the poor dear, I'd hate for him to be picked on for being different.

Besides, he's strangely adorable for his race and I'd love to learn about his people if he's willing to speak on it. If they're all that intelligent, then maybe I should bring it up back in Silvermoon to not encourage the random slaughter of murlocs and perhaps just set aside one of the beaches for their use. I'll likely be laughed at, but eh, there's no harm in trying and we might get him to visit!

The journal would be shut as soon as the ink would dry. Soon after the small elf would get herself changed and be on her way out the door in the direction of the hold. Her steps held a spring to them, her feet no longer dragging upon the stones like what was normally done.

Back at home the embers of the fire could be seen finally dieing out. On top of the burnt wood a strip of cloth rested, now burnt beyond any real use. The mask that hide her face though so many years was now nothing more than fading memory.


Better things await.
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