Dear Diary 20
March 2nd 2009 00:59
Dear Diary,
I must say that to be on the battlefield again is exhilerating. To be able to fight alongside my people feels like a great honour to me. After all they have done for me, it is time that I do something for them; and thus I am here, fighting for them.
I have been targetting the mages; to my way of thinking they are the biggest monsters of all, and it is fun just to watch them squirm. I light them on fire. In fact, last night I lit several of their tents on fire; though ordinarily I fight with a code of honour, their disrespect for the concept of honour has earned them this death.
I will bring more death and I will bring more suffering. I am not here to make their day brighter, I am here to help my people no matter what that means I must do. I will go to any lengths for my people, for I love them deeply. And I have gone to great lengths this night and day; I will continue as soon as I have finished writing this.
It breaks my heart to see these men and women on the battlefield. They are weary, they tell me, they are ready to return home. But they continue to fight because they know that if they do not there will be no home for them anymore. Their dreams have been crushed by the simple neccessities of life, the need for soldiers.
I have watched them fight and some of them seem so cold, so frozen; it sends chills down my spine to watch some of them. Almost automatic movements. This is what the war has become to my people; it has become almost an automatic thing, something that is quite simply there and which most feel they can do nothing about. It frustrates me to see how lifeless they are becoming. But there is a glimmer of hope for my people still.
I see that the captain of the unit I have been working with, a Drakor whose name I will not mention but whose eyes are golden, has a lover at home. He fights for her with all of his strength, he tells me. He loves her deeply but his first duty is to me and to his people as a whole; but he is praying that she will wait for him to return. Wait for the war to end, as the Drakor have the leisure to do. And I have watched her-she is waiting for him.
I told him this in the hopes that it would inspire him; the hopes that it would keep him fighting, knowing he had a loving woman to return to. I remember seeing a smile spread across his face, not something I see often in these dark times. And I remember smiling back.
For me love is a distant memory. I have never fallen in love but for Elric, and I wonder if I will ever let myself fall in love again. I enjoyed it while it lasted but I do not know that I would be able to tolerate love if it were to come to me now. I have seen too much of the devastation it can bring; and for one in a position such as mine, with such power, the devastation is only greater.
The nightmare that my love brought upon my people... it is a great burden to bear. I do not know how I survive with it each day, making it through even when I know the truth. My people die for me each day, and they die because of the love I felt once upon a time. I know there is no real love now in my heart for Elric; but I also know that there is a small weakness to him, one which slowly I am working to eliminate.
My people are proud to fight by my side. To see the sparkle in the eyes of the commander when I first arrived made me much happier. This unit is all Elves and Drakor, no humans. Their faith is stronger than that of the humans; these soldiers remember the time before the war. They truly know what they are fighting for, unlike many of the humans who know only ideals of peace, not the truth of it.
The darkness surrounds the humans. Very few are old enough to remember peace; and those who are spend their days mourning its loss. They are old now and do not have the strength to fight, nor to go out and tell the world what peace is like. They are miserable, just as miserable as the young people for they doubt they will ever see peace again.
But they will should they live just a little longer. The end is near, I can feel it. The fires still stand strong around the borders of my land but soon they will fall. I will destroy them. I will be victorious over Elric, though he thinks he holds something over me. He thinks that I will fall weak to him when the time comes. But I am stronger than that.
I am furious, frustrated, full of anger and hate. But that is why now I must return to the battlefield; a good place to get all of that out.
~Astarael
Dear Diary,
My time on the field has passed; but I leave the battlefield with no regrets, for I have done the damage I meant to do. They must know it was me, for fifty priests died and one fort burned. That is the work of a Goddess. Those I worked with were remarkable, talented, respectful, honourable, quick to follow orders.
I felt a tad regretful that I took the reins from such a capable leader, but that was what I had to do and there was nothing else. He was my second in command and he seemed quite honoured to be so; I suppose if the roles were reversed I would have been as well. We did more damage in two days and two nights than has been done in months. This is a blow that Fidolius and Elric will feel, will remember; and something tells me my people will also remember.
For news spread quite quickly. I know that all of the Drakor will have knowledge of my presence during that time; for their magic allows instant communication. The royal family shares instant communication with the most powerful Drakor as well as the most powerful Elves. They will know; and they will be glad of my help.
I remember the battlefield with remarkable clarity. The stench of death is so familiar to me; but I can feel that the people are starting to give up hope. On both sides there is little but despair. I came to my people at the perfect time-they have grown desperate, frustrated, tired. They are very tired of this war, but the knowledge of what I have done for them will carry them through for a period of time. I know that this day Bannon leaves to fight on his own. He wants to do some damage, more than I did; it is time the Gods take part in this war. That we show our people that we care for them as much as they do for us.
The battlefield was stained red with blood of the last five decades. I could have stared at it for hours, for never have I seen such complete ruin of a land. No war has been this great, not in all the history of the races. I have always watched the wars very carefully; and the last war was centuries ago, forgotten in the minds of men but not the other races. The war was much smaller, ten years of brutal murder that could not do to a land what this war has done.
Nothing grows there. There is only the ever present stench and aura of death as frustrated spirits linger; I set many of them free these last nights and days. I was brought to many of them by this commander, who knew all the spirits in life. He told me he performed the rituals to set them free of these bonds as much as he could, but some were too strong for him to break. It has happened many times throughout various wars.
It makes me wonder how much more I should be doing for my people. Should I be fighting with them each and every day? But I cannot afford to do that; I must attend my council meetings. I must visit with Loki regularly, and I have many other obligations here I cannot simply abandon. I enjoy my mansion and my close family of Drakor servants far too much.
I have talked little of them since starting this journal, but I suppose that during times like these that is to be expected. Now I think I shall speak of them, for they are all very dear to my heart.
I will begin with the first one I brought into my home; she is a living Drakor, not a spirit like some of the others. Using my magic I can sustain her life indefinitely so long as she remains here. Her parents were two of the most devout servants I have ever had, centuries ago before the last war. They died, sacrificing their lives for me and the other Gods.
For you see the last war was almost a civil war. A group of seventy Fidolians came to live in 'peace' to the Drakor lands. I believed that perhaps this would be a step towards a stronger bond between the two countries, but I was deeply mistaken. I should never have let them into my kingdom; I should never have let even one of them step foot within Drakor lands.
But I did, and so together with a group of outside Fidolians-not the government, but a religious cult that had kept itself hidden for quite some time-they began a civil war. The Drakor were being attacked from all sides, and it was the temples that these monsters chose to attack.
I remember when they died, Kamilla and Avinash, two very loyal servants throughout the years of their lives. And little Marika, my favourite of all the servants, only seven years old, was left all alone, for her aunts and uncles had died in similar attacks, or they had taken in another child and could not take her in as well. So I brought her here, knowing what I could do with my magic. I raised her from her youth.
Marika has always been more like a daughter than a servant to me. She tends to the gardens for she deeply loves what few flowers grow here. She cleans the floors because she cannot stand to see them dirty. She dances by the fire each night for her own pleasure and to bring a smile to my face with her talent.
She is fiercely loyal and would never leave my side if I asked her not to. But I ask little of her, only that she continues to live life as she has, continues to love life.
Then there is Rei, a historian who has been here a century less than Marika. I chose her for her passion. Many centuries ago I kept a running chronicle of all that went on within the human world, knowing how each moment passed for each person. Rei was a passionate historian in life who grew very ill after traveling to unexplored lands. I gave her new life here though she may never leave; she stays in the library.
She knows every book I have on my shelf-every book ever written-and almost every moment of her time is spent writing new books, writing down the happenings of the world as they happen. There is a spirit who helps her, a Drakor spirit. In life, Vaira was a very dear friend to her and a fellow historian; with her death, little has changed. Together they keep a chronicle of the world of mortals.
There are more, but the exhaustion of the fighting has finally hit me, and now I must simply fall into my bed and sleep; for the sleep will not be long, nor particularly peaceful. That is something that I have come to accept so long as this war may last.
~Astarael
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