My fingers tremble as they guide the quill across the page. I shall have to leave odd spaces between words as I write, for my tears continue to fall and soak into the parchment. I can scarcely believe what has occurred, though I witnessed it with my own eyes. My heart fights to deny what my head knows as truth.
My father is dead.
I want to scratch out that phrase, obliterate it with a careless splash of ink so I can pretend that it is not true. But I will not. Ink will not erase the events of last night, nor will it bring him back. It is a temporary cure, a bandage placed to hide the wound from view. It will not heal the pain, nor will it mend the damage. Nothing I can do or say will reverse time and prevent his death. I am neither wizard nor priest; I cannot bring him back.
When I ended the previous entry, it was to hide this journal so I could descend to Motherapos;s dinner party. The occasion was merely to spend time with the company of friends and family, not for any special reason. Most of the nobles attending were known to me, though in many cases I could recall faces but not names. I had not expected to be allowed to sit with Mother and my half-siblings, so it did not surprise me when I saw that there was no empty seat at their table. Instead I sat with Father, who had saved a seat for me at a separate table. On my way to join him, I was pleased to note that Haedriax and Merydae were seated together, and seemed very happy with the placement.
Nothing of note occurred for a short time. Father and I simply sat together, talking and watching the nobles dance and dine. Merydae had taken it upon herself to teach Haedriax to dance, and he was performing admirably. I noticed many condescending glares and looks sent my way, but did not pay them heed. I have long received such treatment, and accepted that I shall never be one of the elite in their eyes. Bastards have few friends and allies among the wealthy legitimate. So it did not surprise me that no one approached our corner to ask for a dance. Father commented that I should dance, and I replied that I needed a partner. None were forthcoming, so how could I join in? He gave me a smile, then turned his attention back to Mother, who was also sitting at her table. Jerikasil - my stepfather - was deep in conversation with another guest, and showed no interest in asking her to dance.
I did not stop Father when he stood up and went to do so. Now I wish that I had.
It was as if the world had frozen. The minstrels continued to play, but all eyes had turned to my parents. Even Mother seemed shocked that he had dared approach her here and ask such a thing. Jerikasil is the one who broke the silence, asking him what he thought he was doing. Father replied that he was simply asking Mother for a dance. I remember him saying, at some point, that he would ask Jerikasil for one, but he was not his type. However, I do not recall�what prompted that flippant reply. Jerikasil asked him who had invited him, and at that point I joined them in time to hear Mother say that she had. Honestly, I am unsure what I was planning when I went to them. Would I have attempted to soothe my stepfather?�Or would I have teased him as before?�I cannot answer that question, even to myself. But I can say that, had I known what would follow, I would have tried to deflect his anger.
Though I will admit, it was amusing to watch the vein pulsing at his temple. I was so fascinated by that vein when I was small.
Jerikasil hissed that he knew who Father was, and I was tempted to say "it took you this long to figure it out?"�but I held my tongue. There was something in my stepfatherapos;s eyes that I had never beheld therein, and it froze�my very blood. So instead I remained still and quiet, hoping that this would be resolved peacefully. Jerikasil said something to Mother without taking his eyes off Father, and Mother shocked all present when she proclaimed that she would love to dance.
The exchange ended with Jerikasil pulling off his glove and slapping Father across the face before challenging him to a duel. Here I have to roll my eyes even as I wipe them; that idiot was always so old-fashioned and arrogant. Father accepted and said that his opponent should have the honor of choosing their weapons. I saw the�words on Jerikasilapos;s face and told Father not to do this, to take it back and choose himself since my stepfather had initiated the challenge, but he only offered me a small smile and said it was too late.
Jerikasil chose magic as the weapon of choice. This only deepened my fears, as I have researched the Spears of Kambior in the past, before I set out on my journey, and knew they are very limited in their offensive spells when compared to other priests and clerics. Jerikasil, on the other hand, was a mage of no small power. He was formidable for a wizard, though certainly not as powerful as Ralabstiaapos;s citizens. As Dr. Faldus marked out a circle for the duel, I wished Father the luck of both Kambior and Nambelai.
He offered me the same smile as before and replied that he had all the luck he would need. And those were the last words he spoke to me.
I took Motherapos;s hand as they entered the circle, and she squeezed it tight. Jerikasil was granted the first shot, since he was the wronged. His first spell was a powerful one, an incantation that had the learned shocked and sickened. When I asked one of them the nature of the spell, he replied that it was called apos;Horrid Wilting,apos; and that were it not for the protective circle we would all be dead.
The depths of Jerikasilapos;s hatred for my father stunned me. I had known how much he despised me, but to have memorized a spell so dangerous as that, a spell that could have killed us all, just to satisfy his need for vengeance...
Father looked badly hurt, but he was not dead. I thought surely he would use his turn to heal himself and then use the next to kill Jerikasil, but then I realized that if my stepfather had memorized such a deadly spell as that he had to have more at hand in case the first failed to slay him. It was in Fatherapos;s best interests to kill him then and there rather than give him the opportunity to finish the job.
Still, I wish there could have been another way. Some other spell. Anything other than what happened next.
Father recited a prayer, and in response an immense shroud of fire thundered down from the heavens to engulf them both. It rained fire for what seemed an eternity, and so strong was the prayer that we all felt its heat on our skin, despite the spell meant to protect us from the energies summoned. At last Dr. Faldus entered the circle to put out the fires. There was an enormous hole in the ceiling, the marble floor was blackened and melted.
Of Father and Jerikasil, there was no sign.
I know Mother fainted then. I think I may have been screaming, but I cannot be sure. I do not remember any noise in that terrible moment before darkness closed in around me and I joined her on the floor in blessed unconsciousness.
When I came to, the moon shown through the window of my bedroom, revealing Merydae and Haedriax sitting worriedly by my side. I asked them what had happened, and they told me that Mother and I had been taken to our rooms after we fainted. Mother was being tended by several of her relatives and Lady Wenanni, who had been present at the dinner. The guests had been ushered out so servants could begin cleaning up the mess. It appears that the party was well and truly ruined.
After taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I asked what had been done with Fatherapos;s spear. He had left it leaning against the wall during the party, close at hand. The idea that one of the servants or my greedy siblings would lay hands on it grieved me, and I asked Haedriax to bring it to me. When he left, I stopped fighting the tears and gave in to my pain. I had not wished him to see me like that. I recall Merydae climbing up on the bed beside me and embracing me as I wept, but I could not accept the comfort she offered. It was so very unfair to me; not even a day had passed since I received confirmation that Kamen was my father, and now he was gone. I spent the last six years searching for him, my entire life dreaming of the day when I would meet him, and I was not able to spend even half of dayapos;s worth of time with him before he was taken from me. I usually ignore my pain and keep it to myself, but�not this time. It was just too much to bear.
The tears had not stopped when Haedriax returned, Fatherapos;s spear wrapped in a curtain for whatever reason. He did not seem surprised to see me in that state, and thankfully he did not comment.�He merely handed me the spear and joined us on the bed.
You cannot�embrace a spear. It is a cold comfort to a broken heart. But I still held it tight as I grieved, laying it across my knees and clutching it�with white-knuckled fists.�That spear, the bracelet, and the�signet ring�are all I have of my father now, and the spear was�all that remained to say that he had been here. I must have appeared quite�ridiculous then,�but it did not matter to me then how I looked. It still does not.�
Some time�had passed before I finally found the�stength to wipe at my eyes and raise my head. I asked Haedriax to go see how Mother was, as there was something I wished to ask her, and before he left�someone -�either he or Merydae, I cannot�recall -�asked why�I was glowing.�
The question did not register�for a heartbeat, and then I realized�what had been asked. A�quick�look in the mirror revealed that my skin�had taken on a soft golden luminescence, and my grief was�forgotten in light of this�discovery. Some explanation, unlikely�though it may be, had�been offered�for�my sudden change in eye color. What had caused�this?�The only people�of which I knew that carried such a glow were Spears of Kambior, and I am certainly not a Spear.�
I asked Haedriax to�fetch Lady Wenanni as well,�if she�could spare the time. I did not think to�ask�him or Merydae if they had noticed when�this glow had appeared, and now I wish I had. This had certainly not occurred�prior to my awakening.�
When�Haedriax and Lady�Wenanni�arrived, the first thing I asked her was if she could resurrect�him.�She did not ask which apos;himapos;�I�meant; she is fully�aware that there was no love lost between myself and Jerikasil,�though not to what extent. She hesitated for a bit, then�explained that�it was�not beyond her skill, but�that she did not�possess a diamond worth 5,000 gold pieces.�Apparently the temple had�made use of their supply�during�repeated attempts to resurrect Zalastre. I wiped at my eyes once more and�asked if she knew of anybody in the city that would possess such a�gem.�She told me�that it was�conceivable�that one of Velmontyaapos;s many jewelers might have�a viable�diamond, and I resolved to sack my room for anything�of value. I will need a lot of gold�before I can purchase such a diamond, assuming I can even find�one in time.�
With�that thought in mind,�I next�spread my arms and asked if she�could discern any reason for my illuminated nature. She asked when I had started�glowing like this, and I replied that I�could not recall doing so before waking up. I was not sure if this had started before Haedriax retrieved�Fatherapos;s spear or�after, and she asked if she could see the spear. I handed it over and she unwrapped it, examining it closely.
I have rarely had the honor of seeing Lady Wenanni Idialya in a state of�speechless shock, but�this was one�moment when I did. I asked her what was wrong, since I could see nothing special about the�spear beyond it being extremely ornate and beautiful�in comparison to the weapons of other Spears. She was unable to find her voice for several moments, but at last she was able to say "where did you get this?" I told her that it was my fatherapos;s. She shook her head slowly and asked of no one in particular "who is that man?"�before saying that the spear was beyond an artifact and that chances were that she could not need to resurrect him at all. I asked her to elaborate since arcane magicks are not exactly my realm of specialty, and she asked me what was the most powerful magical weapon I could think of. I could not think of any such weapons just then, and finally settled on the legendary Spellbook of Jexis. It does count as a weapon of sorts, given that wizards receive deadly spells from its pages.
Lady Wenanni told me that it was funny I should have settled on that one, as there were parallels between the long-lost spellbook and the spear in her hands. I was beyond tired of cryptic answers and told her so. She told me, in so many words, that this was the Spear of Kambior. As in, the godapos;s own weapon.
Kambiorapos;s spear.
I was stunned. How had my father gotten such a weapon?�The implications of his bearing this spear are endless, each possible explanation more shocking than the last. I simply could not wrap my head around them all, and instead asked what she meant by not needing to resurrect him. She said that if he carried this weapon, it was possible that Kambior himself favored or had chosen my father for some reason and might resurrect him himself. But, she added, given that he was so stupid as to cast that spell in such an enclosed area,�Kambior might not. I was too shocked to take offense. I asked if my touching the spear might have caused the glow, and she had no answer. The problem is that neither she nor Haedriax were glowing, and he had touched the spear before me. If contact with the spear was enough to cause the glow, he at least should have been lighting up the room as well. Yet he was not.
What is happening to me?
Lady Wenanni asked what my plans were now, and I explained what had occurred since this whole mad adventure began, asking her to keep Haedriaxapos;s identity a secret. She seconded my beliefs that Quaine was the proper destination, and I told her that this spear should be returned to Kambiorapos;s faithful. She agreed with me, and told me that I should ask Zalastre if he knew of anything that could be done for Kamen or about a viable diamond. She also recommended that I contact Viannon Telaihr for further information about my father and the spear. She also took a look at the bracelet and�signet ring Father had given me, and�was stunned once more when she realized what the bracelet was. She advised that I tell no one what it was, advice I�have already followed for�some time now, and wondered�where he could possibly have found it. I have no answers for that�question;�is there anywhere he had not been? She was unable to identify the meaning of the ringapos;s insignia, to my disappointment.�After�further small conversation�she bid me good night and good luck.
When the morning came, I rose and went to Motherapos;s room, leaving the spear in my own. She was dining in bed, and asked me what I planned to do now. I told her of my desire to find a diamond for a resurrection spell, and she donated several pieces of her jewelry for the cause. She assured me that they were all trinkets given to her by Jerikasil. She also gave me a hairclip that Father had given her some time ago, a piece crafted of gold and set with emeralds, and said that she wished for me to keep it. Mother is not all that displeased that he is gone, but she was a little saddened when I commented that my siblings likely hated me now. Likely they blame me for their fatherapos;s death, since my father cast the spell that slew them both and he arrived at the manor with me. Mother winced, but she did not disagree with my assesment of their feelings on the matter. She instead commented that she had always hoped her children would marry for love rather than be forced into a union with someone they did not love, as Kadansel had. She asked if I had anybody special in my life, and I told her that I did not at present, though I was keeping my eye out. It did not seem likely that I would suffer an arranged marriage anyway, given the general knowledge of my origins among our peers. Mother told me, with a small laugh and wry smile, that Jerikasil�- she did not refer to him as her husband - would sometimes, when he was drunk, speak of marrying me to a donkey. I suppose that is the sole blessing of being born a bastard; none of our counterparts are interested in me for political or monetary gains.
The subject turned to Haedriax and Merydae, and she agreed that he was the best prospect she had seen for her thus far. They are young, yes, but that will only grant them time to get to know each other and for friendship to slowly evolve into love. If Uncle decides to betrothe her to him, they will at least be fond of each other and close in age. Even better, he is royalty. What more could Uncle want?�I spoke of my wish to ask Haedriax if he wanted to remain here in Velmontya or continue to travel with me, and Mother said that she would not mind having him here. She is already fond of him, as I knew she would be. I�told�her of�possible�plans for the�future, but not of what�Lady Wenanni and I had spoken. Mother has suffered enough shocks of late;�I will not reveal my many�suspicions to her until at least one of�them has been confirmed. She did ask about the glow, but I could only offer a shrug in return. Neither of us can explain why my eyes have�turned golden, or why my skin has taken on this gentle�luminescence.�I did tell her, however, that I missed my old eyes since they were hers. She told me that�she�almost had not recognized me at first, after my arrival. I do not look like�her daughter anymore.�
We conversed�longer, then I bid her farewell and told her that I would write. Who knows�when next I�shall be in�Velmontya after we depart?�Or even if I will be allowed near the family estate once my half-siblings divide up their shares? Following my depature from her room, I sought out Merydae and Haedriax and asked him if he wanted to stay here or come with me. He was hesitant, probably afraid of hurting my feelings, but in the end he said that he wanted to stay here. I noticed that he glanced shyly at my cousin when he said that, and she likewise was quietly pleased. I asked him to take care of her, and for her to look after him. They agreed, then hugged me and I said goodbye. After bidding farewell to Jillaina and collecting my things, including this journal and Fatherapos; spear, I left the estate behind.
I found myself loathe to return to Zalastreapos;s current home just then, however. So I sought out one of my old refuges from when I was young in order to record my thoughts and compose myself once more. This particular refuge is in a small park not far from my familyapos;s estate; there is an ancient willow with tendrils long enough to shield an elf from view, and I often took shelter here in my youth. I am not the only person to have sheltered here in the past, but at the moment I am the only one here. The solitude is welcome at this time, and being so close to such quiet majesty as this old tree helps to settle my swirling thoughts. My head is clearer than it was when first I ducked in here and spread my journal across my knees.
I do not blame the gods for what happened last night. I think they have a very cruel sense of humor, but I do not blame them. Father made his own choices, and Kambior had nothing to do with that. I wish there was something I could have done to avert last nightapos;s events, but in hindsight I am unsure what I would have done. Perhaps Zalastre could have turned aside Jerikasilapos;s rage, but I am hardly his equal in terms of diplomacy. Besides, I am fairly certain that had I interfered, Jerikasil would have had no qualms about hurting me, or even killing me. He tried once before, afer all.
If I had been the one to die, Father would have been completely justified in snatching up his spear and impaling my eternal tormentor with it. I do not think anybody would have stopped him, either; murder is not acceptable in Velmontya, and Spears are defenders of those unable to defend themselves, protectors of the innocent. I could not have defended myself against Jerikasilapos;s magic, and I would not have struck the first blow. Father would have been completely justified in avenging my murder. Furthermore, he would still be alive.
I do not want to die. But of the two of us, I am the less powerful and more useless. Father was a powerful Spear of Kambior, apparently with the godapos;s own favor. Heapos;s saved untold numbers of people. All I have done is rescued Haedriax and discovered the reasons for King Percyapos;s war with the Arleuthians. I suppose it can be said that I helped rescue Zalastre and found Suwende, but I did not accomplish those alone and without error. If one of us had to die for Jerikasil to come to justice, why not me? The world needs people like my father. It had no need of people such as myself. Rogues that hide in the shadows do not change the course of history. And what kind of rogue can I be now, with my skin glowing to banish the darkness, soft though it may be?�
This is so mixed up, so confusing. What am I supposed to do now?
I should be getting back to the others now. I want to ask Zalastre if he knows if anything can be done about a diamond, and what he knew of my father. I might as well ask him about my new glow as well. Any explanation would be welcome. I also need to sell the jewelry Mother gave me, and the few things I was able to find in my room. Damn Chiarella for taking my own jewelry.
I am going to put this journal away now, but take a few more minutes to think and compose myself. I do not want the others to see me like this. It is going to be hard enough, explaining that Kamen is gone and I am now a walking lantern. I do not wish to explain why I have been crying in addition to that.
Kionalil eda Deistrani
dantech digital, dantech dynamics, dantech inc, dantech uk.
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