Time Will Tell, In the End...

28th of Camince, 1485
 
It has been a week since Filandrel’s funeral, and nearly that since I last spoke with Ravlor… a part of me has been sorely wanting to to storm back into Ravlor’s cabin and demand that he talk to me, but Adar is right, I need to give him time…
 
Both my father and the prince are right in that I, too, need time. So, that is what I’ve been doing… I spent a couple of days working with Grimaldus in my father’s workshop, and aside from that, I’ve been spending most of my time with Meriwald in the woods surrounding Alcarin.
 
I packed away Filandrel’s robes yesterday… they now sit, neatly folded, in a carved cedar chest. I will don them again when needed, but for now, I need the distance. I have made some disturbing discoveries since reading through Filandrel’s spellbook… dark, forbidden magic that he transcribed… it raises so many more questions… His spellbook contains more spells than I’ve ever seen in a single volume… and many of them are necromantic. I found spells that describe how to trap a soul in a magic jar. Even more disturbing, are the inscriptions that describe the process of creating a clone, as a means of thwarting death. That, combined with his uncomfortable degree of interest in the elder Von Carstein’s research, makes me question everything…
 
What if Filandrel is actually inhabiting a newer, younger body somewhere in the world? Did he orchestrate his death, as he’s orchestrated so much else in my life so far? After all, when I was speaking to him in the dream, as he was dying, I am reminded of the subtle smile on his face when I asked him what else I needed to know, as his form faded away and the dream collapsed, with his death...
Is he playing me, even now? Is all of this, bringing his body back to Alcarin, the funeral, the Prince offering me his position, and his warnings about Damian… is this all some part of an elaborate scheme where we are all pawns in his game?
 
I need to speak with Damian about all of this… even though I dread that conversation. Damian hated me when last we spoke, and Meriwald’s findings when he explored Damian’s library in the dream… abhorrent. Filandrel said that for the good of our people, I will need to make Damian my enemy, and together we will save the most people by sending some to their deaths in a senseless war… I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t want to do that. I already have blood on my hands, I don’t want to even think about drenching them in any more…
 
I will need to speak with Damian at some point, likely sooner rather than later, but I will not do it this day… I have other things to do first…
 
The princess is still being maintained in her comatic state. I sought an audience with the prince a couple days ago, to see if he would grant me leave to look for a clue for the axiomyte’s command word on his throne. I found it, a silly verse of sorts, inscribed under the seat… I thanked him and promised that I would share any information that I found that could possibly help the princess.
 
I took the adamantine box far out into the woods, and set about protecting the area from any prying eyes, either magical or physical. Then, I set up a contingency to contain the box in a wall of force should anything go wrong when I opened it… that way there was minimal risk to both myself and the surrounding forest. When I spoke the verse, the locks on the box slid open, and I was able to lift the lid. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the rows upon rows of neatly organized journals and books was not it… I carefully resealed the box and returned to the relative safety of my bedchamber.
 
Again, shielding myself from prying eyes, I began to pour over the axiomyte’s writings… this was definitely what he claimed – a complete collection of his memories and knowledge, written down in a very organized form, that would be easy to review. Easy from an academic standpoint, not an emotional one… for he had not lied to me… this appears to be a complete collection, with nothing omitted… his writings cover the flight from the First World, the creation of the Wells, the founding of Alcarin and Egig Ero Fa, teaching magic to the humans of this world, the early wars against the dragons, the genocides… all of it… the bloody history of this world that the axiomyte witnessed firsthand. Also, he included directions on how to create and forge artifacts of untold power.
 
I felt a chill run down my spine at the potential consequences of anyone learning of the existence of this knowledge… much less its location… Filandrel definitely knew, and I fear that the Feathered Woman may be able to infer it, she seems intelligent enough, especially since we showed up to the council meeting, with Hasim reincarnated into the body of the axiomyte, whom she killed for his knowledge, and his refusal to share it with her…
 
So, I packed everything back into the axiomyte’s box, and hid it in a safe place. One I am not so foolish as to write down…
 
* * *
 
Many things have been occupying my thoughts over these past days… the political situation surrounding Alcarin and Runestone, Damian’s role he may or may not be playing in all this, the Princess’ state… but most of all, it is thoughts of those I care about…
 
Grimaldus seems to be settling in well enough in Alcarin, although I feel as though it is only a matter of time before he’s going to want to be off on the move again, tracking his next hunt… it makes me wonder if we both acted too rashly in the east… will he ultimately be happy when his life calms down enough to allow him some peace? Will he be able to find a home among my people, or will he always feel like a fish out of water, and long for the deserts of his homeland? I can take him back anytime he wishes, but still… I cannot imagine a life where I do not walk among the trees… so what am I asking of him? But not only that, but where does this relationship lead for me?
 
As I told Adar when I spoke with him, I do love Grimaldus. Of that, I know… but, what will become of this love? By pursuing this, am I merely setting myself up for worse heartbreak in the future? What if his grandmother is right, and there is a child from our union? Then what? Grimaldus will die, I don’t know when, but it is inevitable… as inevitable as the changing of the seasons… then I will be left alone in my grief, potentially with a half-elven child to raise? What would this world be like for such a child?... to be born into a world where you are ostracized, or, at the very least, not fully accepted as a member of either parents’ society?
 
I do love Grimaldus… but is that love worth the pain that I know is inevitable? I do not know the answer to this question, and my unsurety haunts me.
 
And then there is the matter of what Doodles revealed to me as I left… his claims that Ravlor loves me. Do not misunderstand, I’ve always known that he cares for me deeply, as I do him… but I never thought it extended into love. On my part, sure, I just managed to bury it deeply enough that I never thought it would be an issue, because I didn’t believe it reciprocated. But, after Doodles and my father’s laughing response, I’ve reliving the past half century of memories whenever I meditate at night…
 
Ravlor showing up during the snowstorm with the chickens, after digging us out of the snowdrift… our many conversations before the war… his words as he shoved the longbow into my hands in the beginning of the war, and taught me how to shoot it… his hand in mine as we ran to the safety of the outpost during the Battle of Twin Rivers… the days and nights we spent in the forests together after the war… “I know those hands” when I found him outside Yaharghul… his teasing me about Grimaldus when we were in Crassard… the sadness in his eyes when he sailed off with Doodles from Runestone…
 
I thought it was all just normal friendship on his part, that I was the one who had wished it more…
 
I don’t know anymore. I am torn… I feel as though my heart is being pulled in two different directions, and he hasn’t even spoken to me in the past week… he’s never done this to me before, but then again, a sinister voice in my mind whispers, I never told him I was betrothed before, either… I am confused. I need to talk to him, because for all I know, I might be reading far more into this than I should… or maybe it is just the stress of these past few months that has been catching up with me… I need to talk with him, and I also need to talk with Grimaldus… I need to know what exactly is going on with Ravlor, and I need to know Grimaldus’ plans for the future… I love Grimaldus dearly, but Ravlor… I don’t even really know what to say… my heart felt like it was torn asunder when he walked away, and my mind craves his conversation…
 
I guess I shall just have to wait and see how everything plays out… all of it… Ravlor, Grimaldus, Damian, the Princess, even Filandrel and my suspicions regarding his death… only time will tell, in the end…