Diary 1627

Diaries of Xenofos

Private journal. 1627, Sea Season, Disorder Week, Waterday

In Fazzur code.
Things are a mess again it seems. Varanis is quite unhappy. She knows and is just angry thinking she herself cannot do anything wrong… She has illusions of her opinion being the Truth.

Private journal. 1627, Sea Season, Disorder Week, Clayday

She really does think she bears no responsibility for her actions as long as she herself accepts her motives. If others are hurt by her version of truth it is just their failing. It seemed like she might have gotten a vague hint of effect she may have on others, but I would not be too optimistic. The good thing is she will at least not attempt to flatter Varanis though she may may try to influence her behaviour in ways she deems necessary for Sartar – or even – good for Varanis herself.

Private journal, undated.

Sweet rose… Logic does not help at all. Varanis is hurt, but she let go of that. So I said I would try to do likewise. It would be simpler to not. But I would not have it otherwise. One thing showing I am alive…She is so small. Deceptive.

1627, Sea season, Disorder Week, Godsday

Dame Varanis and her retinue find a village razed by unknown attackers and start to investigate.

Private journal, Fazzur code
We had to stop for the dark for not loosing the tracks. I was pretty furious at Berra. She started shouting when we came back from the village and started to talk of who commands like she did not care at all about the villagers and thought it was more important to clear out who is in command than to aid the victims…One would think she would care of her countrymen more, but sometimes I think these barbarians consider the people next valley over as bad or worse than the Lunars. Apparently she had second thoughts of her initial command and tried to retract it. As if one could recall cavalry once it has set on its way, one is lucky enough not to have it charge immediately.
And when I held that small hand in my own I just felt sorry I had brought her distress even when by all logic she was wrong…
But it is important to Varanis we co-operate so I try to follow her orders.

Dream, not recorded anywhere
I know this smell. It is too familiar. Not again. No. I did not kill you. Go away. Please. Please go away. I closed your eyes and paid the Ferryman. You can go in peace. Go. Please.

Private journal undated

Most interesting advice from Nala. On topic she does not seem most qualified to speak on. I misjudged Berra. She is not so separated she would not care. Of the attrocities.

Private diary, undated, in Fazzur code, some stains in ink

Sweet Uleria and merciful Ernalda. I thought I was resolved and resigned to what seems inevitable. How wrong I was. She is very determined, she usually is. She knew what she was asking was painful and she stressed it was a favour, something I should decide myself, not say yes just on her account. She probably does not realize that request itself lures me further into granting that wish. As hurtful it would be, there is temptation to say yes, just to please her.

But I have promised her I will try to think what she asks for if she makes a request, so I owe it to her and myself to think this through. If she needs separation from someone she loves, I don’t count unless she cares more than she has admitted. She has shown caring and sometimes given ambiguous signs. But that can be just my false hope, ever vigilant. She has said she prefers women and that love and pleasure of the flesh are something that have no place in her vocation. So my participation logically would not have effect on her quest, unless…

Now, if my participation would have potential effect I would have to think this matter throughout. She believes Eril is a hero, and that may be so despite my dislike of the man. But it is patently obvious that if it is so, it is despite his deeds with the relics of Death not because of them. His conduct was disgraceful on so many levels that his sufferings are only proper judgement of the Gods. His willingness to take pain himself or his single minded loyalty to Sartar do not absolve him of guilt or make his deeds good. End does not justify the means if they go against the demands of Honor and Truth. Or Humanity.

Darkness of Eril is something nobody should tamper with. Darkness that shows how the fight against enemies of freedom can corrupt us to become mocking mirror images of them if we do not choose carefully the means we employ. Victory at any cost is not a victory.

She will not believe me if I tell this to her. Of that I am pretty certain. If she proceeds with her quest of re-enacting Eril’s dishonorable deeds she will not do any good to herself. I have no doubt she will not be swayed by that argument. I do not think it will do her beloved Sartar any good either, would she succeed. Question is, as she is unlikely to believe me anyway, do I owe it to her to tell what I perceive as Truth. She will not like it, she will not believe it. But if there is a minuscule chance?

And what if I am wrong? What if my mind is clouded by wish to posses her and I just try to find excuses to selfishly keep something that never was mine, but I can still loose?

Good thing I do not need to decide anything yet. And we are riding towards a host, perhaps war. It is quite possible this decision does not – in the end, need to be decided by me. As it is I think I need to know more before I decide.

Private journal undated

Cupbearer, pour more vine into the bowl and mix me a drink,
I wish to have my bowl full, fill it to the brim.
Cupbearer, I want to have my bowl full, always.
Bitter or sweet, fill it to the brim. I will drink.

Private journal undated

Many scrolls there are in Library of Dreams,
scrolls not found elsewhere,
scrolls not of things that are or were,
scrolls telling of truths that could have been
scrolls telling of things hoped for or feared.
I have scrolls there too,
scrolls of hope, scrolls of fear.
Thank you Librarian for keeping them,
Thank you most Exalted filling their pages,
Thank you whom I don’t name, to not bind you with words.

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

She actually listened this time and words reached her, words did not just flow past her like often before. I am surprised that she managed to see the Truth in my words even partially. If she has set her mind on something she does not usually budge at all, so I was prepared to just hear how wrong I am when disparaging her hero for his crimes. Sweet Uleria, how rotten I feel for hurting her. But that needed to be said now, we are riding towards a host, maybe siege so there was no guarantee I could say it later. And would it be love to avoid unpleasant Truths when she, or anyone is heading to hurt and dishonor?

She also confirmed what I already knew by logic. Logically there is no reason to agonize over my decision any longer. Since she does not love, my role would be immaterial. She would be paying the price of the sacrifice with false coin if it would not be her loss. *If* Eril ever loved. It is quite possible the man has always been incapable of that, poor separated sod. But if he did not? Than I must still gauge if it right for me to help her in what she *wants* to do. And it may be that I am thinking too much of a sacrifice and loss and cost. That might not matter to god of separations at all. Just collateral damage. She still cares of it though.

She said she must do it but avoid becoming Eril. I doubt that is even possible. If she follows through she is likely to become more like him. Maybe a better Humakti but lesser woman. But if and when becoming a perfect Humakti is her goal should I not help? But should I help if I think that it is not for her good?

Private journal, undated

When I Die don’t cry for me
In my mothers arms I’ll be
The wounds this world left on my soul
Will all be healed and I’ll be whole

Storm and moon will be replaced
With the light of Uleria’s face
And I will not be ashamed
For my savior knows my name

It don’t matter where you bury me
I’ll be home and I’ll be free
It don’t matter where I lay
All my tears be washed away

Gold and silver blind the eye
Temporary riches lie
Come and eat from Uleria’s table
Come and drink and thirst no more

So weep not for me my friend
When my time in middle does end
For my life belongs to her
Who will let me sleep again

It don’t matter where you bury me
I’ll be home and I’ll be free
It don’t matter where I lay
All my tears be washed away
1 Orig. Julie Miller song All my tears

Monros fair

Are you going to Monros fair
Hazia, lumiviiva, beer and wine
remember me to one who lives there
she once was a true love of mine.

Wayfaring stranger

I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world above
There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger
In that green land to which I go

I’m going there to see my Mother
And all my loved ones who’ve gone on
I’m just going over Blue Dragon River
I’m just going over home

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

Sweet Eiritha, what news. Imarja and Uleria, please keep her, please keep them safe.

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

One more member in that hollow squad. He came sooner then the others. But I was expecting him. Maybe he will leave faster?

More familynews. This time less happy perhaps. Always Ernalda’s blessing, but Serzeen might not see it that way. And the other family implications are quite complicated.

Prisoners were quite tightlipped. I can not fault them to be honest. Not at the time when I am happy for not saying poisonous words brewing on my mind. She did not draw a blade on Uroxi. She used it on a restrained kid. But that was different. Or so she says. Women are more rational, but still that has unpleasant stink.

Left instructions to Lenta in case Varanis lets me travel and I don’t return. It s prudent I think, but maybe Varanis does not need to dwell on that possibility too much.

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

She is eating now. She should have listened to Lenta, but main thing is she is eating. I don’t think she thanked Lenta for that, so I did that again. The lass is plucky and has done pretty well.
I do have to wonder if V actually understood why I spoke to her as I did. If either of them really did. She seemed a bit absent and shaken by the previous argument. She thought I was calling them liars when I tried to point out the risks of unprofessional conduct in giving that impression. Not my thing to admonish her though. V has to make decision if that is needed or not. I probably could not anyway if even angry sparks from her eyes make my heart melt that way.
Lenta asked how I slept. I did not see him last night. Did paying of bloodprice appease his soul? Or has he passed on?

Private journal, Fire and Earth Season

Dame Varanis travelled to Sartar with bountiful supplies to give aid to her liegelady Kallyr of Sartar. In Sartar she heard that a warband of eager Esrolian volunteers had gathered inspired by her oratory in Nochet. She joined the force and marched with it to Tarsh on orders from Kallyr. In Tarsh she worked for king Argrath of Pavis who was besieging Alda-Chur with a Praxian host, trying to persuade local tribes to join his banner. On this journey her troops chased away a Lunar cavalry troop trying to resemble Praxians.

Private journal, undated

O Exalted one, the veiled one, most beautiful among all the goddesses.
You could make her love and to want to love,
bind her heart with silver threads.
You could build a silver cage
and make the little bird happy in it.

O exalted one, the veiled one, Silently smiling Mistress of Love
I am tempted to ask you to use your might and power,
to bring the bird to me and let it be safe.
Away from preying hawks, safe from ravaging winds.

But that bird should not be caged, not held captive even with the softest of bonds.
It wants to fly free and be tossed around by the winds.
Do not ask for a snare Xenofos, you promised to not set out nets of words or guile,
Do not ask of the Exalted what you promised not to do with your words

Let me look at the bird when it flies free, let my heart sing praises to the Veiled one

Private journal, Fazzur code

I was letting care and pride cloud my judgement. That is not wisdom. Good thing that was cleared. Now why did I not remember to tell her the matter of the duel earlier? I was distracted, yes. I could wait. She said it would be after the town falls anyway. But I doubt waiting will make it any easier. I told her I would need to tell Varanis. She may take it the wrong way anyway, like she did the previous time when she accused me of calling her a liar.

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

Well, that was an awkward discussion. Not something I expected to hear, quite honestly.
Hope can be cruel, even when one decides to be resolved to accept things as they are.
She said she felt jealousy. That is natural I guess. Weakness in manners and character, but who am I to judge. Besides, she would not have said anything if I had not pried.
I don’t know if she got any comfort from my words but sometimes just being able to speak ones mind may help. And crying.

Oh Exalted, you do test women and men sometimes, praised be your gifts forever.
Maybe I should not have promised to keep her secret. But I could not resist her pleading. Besides, since she is resolved in not clinging to Varanis and has given her promise on that I should respect that. If she lapsed and talked to me, the content of that talk is nobody elses business. Not even Varanis’. She should talk with her though. Not to try reveal what she keeps hidden but speak of the future. Lenta’s message says as much. I do wonder where she will turn to next. Anything past Alda-Chur seems so unreal.

Private journal, undated, Fazzur code

Praised be Uleria, she is alive. They are alive. And I still breathe. Unlike those two. And those we lost. Sweet and beautiful it is to die young, with garland of flowers still in your head. Maybe it is so. Then you sleep in bosom of Ernalda and do not have to dream.

note to Boldhome library records

Danaril was the mans name. He was born to parents in Blue Tree Tula, in Northern Sartar and raised a warrior following the path of Yelmalio the rider. When he was a young man Sartar was under the yoke of the Red Moon empire. And young Danaril thought it well to strike against the invader by stealing their horses for he was valiant of mind, fleet footed and knew no fear. But by ill luck he was caught in the act and sentenced to death by nailing him onto a cross, for that was the punishment for rebels. And while waiting for his sentence to be carried out Danaril was offered a choice. He could avoid death if he forswore his clan and kin and begged for mercy of the emperor. Danaril was young and on a cross you die for a long time and stay dead even longer and in his anguish he accepted the offer of the dark gatekeeper of the Empire and joined the cult of Danfive Xaron and red chains were tattooed over the blue tree on his chest.

Doa was the woman’s name who loved young Danaril and grieved for him as dead after he was caught by the Lunars. But after a while she settled down, tended her pigs and served Ernalda in Blue Tree tula, for there is always another way.

Berra was the woman’s name she served Humakti and travelled through Dragon pass with Vareena and others. And on their travels they encountered a lady who was also a fox who pleaded them to free her home of invaders. And Vareena agreed to this and Berra and others followed. And from the home of that fox-lady they found a man who had once been Danaril. For Fazzur the Strategos, had ordered the prisoners of Danfive to be released and let loose. And thus Danaril had walked over the hills and mountains to Sartar.

And Berra marvelled greatly, for Danaril was her cousin and had tought her much before she had gone to exile in Esrolia, but that is another tale, but this man looked like he was two score years older than her cousin should be. And Berra talked with Danaril and led him towards his home even though some said it was foolish, for he was marked with the sign of the Moon, and they feared he would be treated as enemy by all good Sartarites who would meet him and perhaps slain before he could reach the place that had once been his home.

And man who had once been Danaril walked back to place that had been his home. And the clan ring did not know what to do with him. For even though he had countenance of their kinsman he was a changed, broken man marked with the sign of their enemy. But out of pity they declined to make any decision in haste and he was allowed to live in a hut outside the the edge of the village and a season passed and then another.

Dogva was the mans name, he was the chief of the Blue tree tula. And when the harvest time had begun he asked the clan ring what they should do with the man who had been Danaril. Dis was the mans name, he was the lawspeaker of the clan. He said that man who had been Danaril had broken the taboos of the clan and it could not be said if he was of kin anymore. Ariathana was a womans name. She was a fierce woman of Vinga and defender of stead but now old and struck low by age. She asked the ring if they could let one bearing the marks of the Moon on his face live among themselves and said it would be less cruel to let him out of his misery, and would there not be a man among them to do it. For he was broken and as Gis had said, no longer kin.

Dogva listened to his ring as a chief but then Doa rose up as Ernalda. And he said unto them that they were contemplating kinslaying, a crime against Earth itself. And that Dogva was unjust and she would not be Ernalda in a place he was Orlanth, ever. And then she left and their was commotion, but Dogva and others who had been shamed by her words did not follow.

In the next morning man who had been Danaril and Doa who had been Ernalda of the Blue Tree clan were not in the tula anymore, and no-one knew whence they had gone. Here ends the short saga of Danaril

Private journal, undated

Today I shall not write a single line
Today shall only love
Today I will not touch my kithara
Today I shall only love
And if Humakt calls
I will answer from your side
Apologies, milord, no I have no time to talk
Today I shall only love
2 Finnish original by Miljoonasade

  • 1
    Orig. Julie Miller song All my tears
  • 2
    Finnish original by Miljoonasade