Dear Diary 14
July 16th 2009 08:07
Dear Diary,
I've had another long day of fighting. But I fight for my sister. She's far enough away now that they won't catch her, but I fight because I still fear. I fight for the men, women and children of Appollinia who won't stand a chance if the army gets past us. I fight for my friends, my family, and my men. I fight for many reasons, and I will not abandon the fight, but I grow so tired of it.
The days are long. The fight is hard. My sword is magical, and thus not a burden to me, but swinging it around today is hot work and summer is beginning to set in. The summer will be unpleasant; fighting is always worst in the heat. As lightweight as Elvish armour is, as masterfully as we craft our weapons and armour, weaving magic in as we work, it is still hot after a few hours.
As Elves we are trained to fight for long periods of time, especially in Elorian, our most prestigious school. I can do it-I just don't want to anymore. I don't want to see the blood anymore; I know most of them attacked me first, but the amount of bloodshed I've seen this past year... nobody should have to see that much blood. Blood of enemies or allies.
I'm simply grateful that Kaya is not here. Shalorin can fight with the rest of us without getting scared she'll get hurt. She is free of the horror that we see here, and I intend to make sure that she never has to see it again. That girl has suffered enough; my sister will take care of her and I will help my people win this war.
Today I killed nearly a hundred men. My body is tired and aching, my ribs are bruised. I put healing salve on the bruises but they will not fully heal-it takes two days, and I am sure they will get bruised again tomorrow. My arms ache from constantly moving. Even a sword that feels like it weighs five pounds begins to feel more like thirty after a few hours.
Some of them died quickly; some of them I had to watch suffer. All of them I had to watch die, had to see the bodies, had to see their blood spilling on the ground. Should they burn the trees that have withstood this already, I fear nothing will grow on this ground for centuries-that it will become cursed ground. After this much blood has fallen upon it, it may well become cursed ground. No spell known to any race can take that curse away... only centuries of peace.
I used to think that if I had to fight in the war, I would come out virtually the same. But I am nothing like I was two years ago, nothing like it. I feel like a monster. Sometimes I look at my hands after I've washed them and for a moment think the blood is still there. And then when I fall asleep... the dreams that never leave me.
Sometimes I wonder how much more of this I can take before I simply go mad. Perhaps, if this war goes on long enough, I will never make it home. I will simply go mad, go berserk... die in a frenzy on the battlefield. It would be remembered, yes. But I want to see my homeland again. I want to grow the garden that has probably withered, restore it to livelihood. Polish and shine my house again, take away all the dust I know lays within.
I want to build a life. I want to feel love, true love, like my sister and her mate have. I have never experienced romantic love; I do not want to die before I have. I want to have a wife, and children, or at least one child. I want to teach these children everything I know... Everything.
I have the skill to survive this war. I have the faithful friends around me who will protect me in a pinch, who will help me. My men, though I do not consider them all to be good friends, all have a very deep respect for me. When you fight side by side with anyone, you bond over it-we have fought together, we have faced this war together.
The kind of bond you form on the battlefield is an interesting one. It strengthens the best of friendships and sometimes creates them. Though I care deeply about Shalorin and know that I would have been friends with him if I had met him in any other fashion, I know that I would never have met him if this war had not happened. We live separate lives when we are not here-but here we are bathed in blood together. Here we must fight together, and we must work together to survive.
I just wish this war had never started... why does the Demon always pursue us? Does he want to enslave us like he has his own people? Or does he just want power over our land? For our Gods and only our Gods can manipulate the land on which we live so long as they are the ones we worship-and it is the same for them. Our Gods cannot manipulate Fidolian land.
Most of all, why did he go about it in this way? The Great Alliance was a good way to get Appollinia's guard down, but it is simply cruel. It was the Golden Age, and it will never come again-this war will leave little but hate between the two countries. Those times were so perfect, so peaceful; trade was amazing. We had things traded from Fidolius we will never have again. (Including some nice wines if I say so myself.)
The Demon and the Shadow; they call themselves other things, as do the people of all races and perhaps even the Gods of our nations. But they are still those same two beings that split off from the Council thousands of years ago because they wanted the rich to be rich... and because they believed in slavery and the others did not.
I just wish the Demon would let this rest... he pursues it, always, always has; the Shadow would let it rest, but he supports the Demon. Perhaps he is afraid of the demon.
I wonder, but I will never know. I have no business in the minds of Gods, mine or any others.
It is time for me to sleep.
~Alaendril
There's another one coming later and two tomorrow; also, a creative piece I've been writing just to see how it would work out.
I've had another long day of fighting. But I fight for my sister. She's far enough away now that they won't catch her, but I fight because I still fear. I fight for the men, women and children of Appollinia who won't stand a chance if the army gets past us. I fight for my friends, my family, and my men. I fight for many reasons, and I will not abandon the fight, but I grow so tired of it.
The days are long. The fight is hard. My sword is magical, and thus not a burden to me, but swinging it around today is hot work and summer is beginning to set in. The summer will be unpleasant; fighting is always worst in the heat. As lightweight as Elvish armour is, as masterfully as we craft our weapons and armour, weaving magic in as we work, it is still hot after a few hours.
As Elves we are trained to fight for long periods of time, especially in Elorian, our most prestigious school. I can do it-I just don't want to anymore. I don't want to see the blood anymore; I know most of them attacked me first, but the amount of bloodshed I've seen this past year... nobody should have to see that much blood. Blood of enemies or allies.
I'm simply grateful that Kaya is not here. Shalorin can fight with the rest of us without getting scared she'll get hurt. She is free of the horror that we see here, and I intend to make sure that she never has to see it again. That girl has suffered enough; my sister will take care of her and I will help my people win this war.
Today I killed nearly a hundred men. My body is tired and aching, my ribs are bruised. I put healing salve on the bruises but they will not fully heal-it takes two days, and I am sure they will get bruised again tomorrow. My arms ache from constantly moving. Even a sword that feels like it weighs five pounds begins to feel more like thirty after a few hours.
Some of them died quickly; some of them I had to watch suffer. All of them I had to watch die, had to see the bodies, had to see their blood spilling on the ground. Should they burn the trees that have withstood this already, I fear nothing will grow on this ground for centuries-that it will become cursed ground. After this much blood has fallen upon it, it may well become cursed ground. No spell known to any race can take that curse away... only centuries of peace.
I used to think that if I had to fight in the war, I would come out virtually the same. But I am nothing like I was two years ago, nothing like it. I feel like a monster. Sometimes I look at my hands after I've washed them and for a moment think the blood is still there. And then when I fall asleep... the dreams that never leave me.
Sometimes I wonder how much more of this I can take before I simply go mad. Perhaps, if this war goes on long enough, I will never make it home. I will simply go mad, go berserk... die in a frenzy on the battlefield. It would be remembered, yes. But I want to see my homeland again. I want to grow the garden that has probably withered, restore it to livelihood. Polish and shine my house again, take away all the dust I know lays within.
I want to build a life. I want to feel love, true love, like my sister and her mate have. I have never experienced romantic love; I do not want to die before I have. I want to have a wife, and children, or at least one child. I want to teach these children everything I know... Everything.
I have the skill to survive this war. I have the faithful friends around me who will protect me in a pinch, who will help me. My men, though I do not consider them all to be good friends, all have a very deep respect for me. When you fight side by side with anyone, you bond over it-we have fought together, we have faced this war together.
The kind of bond you form on the battlefield is an interesting one. It strengthens the best of friendships and sometimes creates them. Though I care deeply about Shalorin and know that I would have been friends with him if I had met him in any other fashion, I know that I would never have met him if this war had not happened. We live separate lives when we are not here-but here we are bathed in blood together. Here we must fight together, and we must work together to survive.
I just wish this war had never started... why does the Demon always pursue us? Does he want to enslave us like he has his own people? Or does he just want power over our land? For our Gods and only our Gods can manipulate the land on which we live so long as they are the ones we worship-and it is the same for them. Our Gods cannot manipulate Fidolian land.
Most of all, why did he go about it in this way? The Great Alliance was a good way to get Appollinia's guard down, but it is simply cruel. It was the Golden Age, and it will never come again-this war will leave little but hate between the two countries. Those times were so perfect, so peaceful; trade was amazing. We had things traded from Fidolius we will never have again. (Including some nice wines if I say so myself.)
The Demon and the Shadow; they call themselves other things, as do the people of all races and perhaps even the Gods of our nations. But they are still those same two beings that split off from the Council thousands of years ago because they wanted the rich to be rich... and because they believed in slavery and the others did not.
I just wish the Demon would let this rest... he pursues it, always, always has; the Shadow would let it rest, but he supports the Demon. Perhaps he is afraid of the demon.
I wonder, but I will never know. I have no business in the minds of Gods, mine or any others.
It is time for me to sleep.
~Alaendril
There's another one coming later and two tomorrow; also, a creative piece I've been writing just to see how it would work out.
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