Dear Diary 18
February 26th 2009 02:16
Dear Diary,
I don't know what to tell them, their expectant faces looking at me from around the council table; I have nothing to say to defend myself. I cannot tell them a lie, that he did not hit me, that now he does not raise his dogs to move to war. That now his armies do not come to strike us down.
I don't know what to say now or ever; what to do about this past, these dreams that I had once long ago, which now are crushed as he leaves. As he comes to destroy us, leaving us with nothing and no more than a few weeks to prepare.
Demons are all around me. I can see them, feel them. In my darkest hour they close in around me, they surround me, try to crack through my weak defenses. And I have nothing to say, now that I have told them all that has happened. And it would seem from the looks on their faces that still they have nothing to say to me.
The moment froze, time froze as I walked away, silent, my head hung in shame. That day I will always remember as though it were the day before this one.
As I walked towards the door of the palace-to walk out, to hang my head in shame, to show all the people of Phoenix how far I have fallen-I heard another set of footsteps. I did not care except to hope that it was not Dracon.
“Astarael,” the voice whispered, full of a warmth I had never heard in Dracon's, “stay still a moment.”
I could not help myself but to stop, completely still, entranced by this voice. It was a man's voice, but the voice was kinder and more gentle than that of either Dracon or Elric. And I knew that in this moment Bannon would not give chase. Loki had not even sat at the table to hear my announcement; he had stood by a window, and I had felt disdain radiating from him. He was very angry with me.
A hand rested gently on my shoulder for a moment and the speaker turned me to face him very slowly and gently. I looked at him, meeting Loki's eyes for the first time in centuries. We had never been close, but we knew each other fairly well.
“You have done nothing wrong,” he said quietly, “you made a mistake as all of us have done before and will do again. You must not hang your head in shame for what has been done wrong, you must hold your head up high and focus on how we will do what is right.”
I looked at the floor, fighting back tears. But everything was all wrong; the Alliance was crumbling beneath our feet. The Alliance was going to turn into a war now. I could feel it in my bones, feel his armies. The dark fires that had grown to surround my land told me that war was coming; and not just any war, a war that is just as much between Gods as it is humans.
“Calm,” he whispered, taking my arm, “come sit.”
He led me to his den, his little corner of the palace. It was a cozy room with a fireplace, an oak desk with clawed legs, and comfortable arm chairs on either side of the desk. He sat me down in one of the chairs without a word and then started the fire in the fireplace. I just kept my head down; there was nothing to say. What could I possibly say to him that would make up for all that I had already said, all that had been done? The mistakes I had made which had suddenly and painfully become very clear to all of us could not be erased nor forgotten.
He sat in one of the chairs across from me and looked me up and down very carefully. I forced myself to look at his face rather than the floor. He leaned forward, his arms resting gently on the desk, and looked me right in the eyes.
“Astarael,” he whispered, “you are beautiful. You are a Goddess of Death and Beauty and you have power that cannot easily be matched. You have been strong, you have been a good leader, you have been part of this country. You have worked with us much more than expected.”
“You have done so much more than anyone thought you were capable. You have proven yourself time and time again. You have showed us your strength. And now you have made a mistake, yes. But you can be forgiven for that mistake. It is natural that all of us make mistakes from time to time, even if we can avoid it most of the time.”
“You cannot hate yourself. You must simply move on, push forward, accept what happened and pay it no mind.”
I looked up at him and met his eyes for a long moment. He smiled and his eyes sparkled just a little bit. I smiled back though it seemed rather false.
“But now you must be prepared to make up for your mistake. You must be willing to fight against Elric, and you must send the Drakor to defend the borders from the armies he has spent the last century building, the armies which will soon march to our borders.”
“It is time to be strong, to show your strength, and to destroy Elric once and for all. To cleanse yourself of past mistakes.”
I remember when Loki told me all of these things; I remember how terrified I was to believe him. I remember listening very carefully, waiting for even the slightest sign of doubt to show itself. I was waiting for him to say that he was lying. I was waiting for punishment.
It never came in the way I expected, though I could say that having to fight a God I had been married to not long before was punishment in its own way. In its own right. I suppose this is my punishment; to watch this suffering. The balance has been tipped, and though it has made more die than be born anew I am not happy with this balance. The world of After is overflowing.
The balance will be remade, peace will be here once more; the time is coming for this war to end, I can feel it in my soul. I am ready now.
~Astarael
I don't know what to tell them, their expectant faces looking at me from around the council table; I have nothing to say to defend myself. I cannot tell them a lie, that he did not hit me, that now he does not raise his dogs to move to war. That now his armies do not come to strike us down.
I don't know what to say now or ever; what to do about this past, these dreams that I had once long ago, which now are crushed as he leaves. As he comes to destroy us, leaving us with nothing and no more than a few weeks to prepare.
Demons are all around me. I can see them, feel them. In my darkest hour they close in around me, they surround me, try to crack through my weak defenses. And I have nothing to say, now that I have told them all that has happened. And it would seem from the looks on their faces that still they have nothing to say to me.
The moment froze, time froze as I walked away, silent, my head hung in shame. That day I will always remember as though it were the day before this one.
As I walked towards the door of the palace-to walk out, to hang my head in shame, to show all the people of Phoenix how far I have fallen-I heard another set of footsteps. I did not care except to hope that it was not Dracon.
“Astarael,” the voice whispered, full of a warmth I had never heard in Dracon's, “stay still a moment.”
I could not help myself but to stop, completely still, entranced by this voice. It was a man's voice, but the voice was kinder and more gentle than that of either Dracon or Elric. And I knew that in this moment Bannon would not give chase. Loki had not even sat at the table to hear my announcement; he had stood by a window, and I had felt disdain radiating from him. He was very angry with me.
A hand rested gently on my shoulder for a moment and the speaker turned me to face him very slowly and gently. I looked at him, meeting Loki's eyes for the first time in centuries. We had never been close, but we knew each other fairly well.
“You have done nothing wrong,” he said quietly, “you made a mistake as all of us have done before and will do again. You must not hang your head in shame for what has been done wrong, you must hold your head up high and focus on how we will do what is right.”
I looked at the floor, fighting back tears. But everything was all wrong; the Alliance was crumbling beneath our feet. The Alliance was going to turn into a war now. I could feel it in my bones, feel his armies. The dark fires that had grown to surround my land told me that war was coming; and not just any war, a war that is just as much between Gods as it is humans.
“Calm,” he whispered, taking my arm, “come sit.”
He led me to his den, his little corner of the palace. It was a cozy room with a fireplace, an oak desk with clawed legs, and comfortable arm chairs on either side of the desk. He sat me down in one of the chairs without a word and then started the fire in the fireplace. I just kept my head down; there was nothing to say. What could I possibly say to him that would make up for all that I had already said, all that had been done? The mistakes I had made which had suddenly and painfully become very clear to all of us could not be erased nor forgotten.
He sat in one of the chairs across from me and looked me up and down very carefully. I forced myself to look at his face rather than the floor. He leaned forward, his arms resting gently on the desk, and looked me right in the eyes.
“Astarael,” he whispered, “you are beautiful. You are a Goddess of Death and Beauty and you have power that cannot easily be matched. You have been strong, you have been a good leader, you have been part of this country. You have worked with us much more than expected.”
“You have done so much more than anyone thought you were capable. You have proven yourself time and time again. You have showed us your strength. And now you have made a mistake, yes. But you can be forgiven for that mistake. It is natural that all of us make mistakes from time to time, even if we can avoid it most of the time.”
“You cannot hate yourself. You must simply move on, push forward, accept what happened and pay it no mind.”
I looked up at him and met his eyes for a long moment. He smiled and his eyes sparkled just a little bit. I smiled back though it seemed rather false.
“But now you must be prepared to make up for your mistake. You must be willing to fight against Elric, and you must send the Drakor to defend the borders from the armies he has spent the last century building, the armies which will soon march to our borders.”
“It is time to be strong, to show your strength, and to destroy Elric once and for all. To cleanse yourself of past mistakes.”
I remember when Loki told me all of these things; I remember how terrified I was to believe him. I remember listening very carefully, waiting for even the slightest sign of doubt to show itself. I was waiting for him to say that he was lying. I was waiting for punishment.
It never came in the way I expected, though I could say that having to fight a God I had been married to not long before was punishment in its own way. In its own right. I suppose this is my punishment; to watch this suffering. The balance has been tipped, and though it has made more die than be born anew I am not happy with this balance. The world of After is overflowing.
The balance will be remade, peace will be here once more; the time is coming for this war to end, I can feel it in my soul. I am ready now.
~Astarael
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