Kythaelas Little Black Book

[SeerofLight]

Out of sight, out of spite.

I won't pay tribute to your gods. What little help they provide through your faithful may trickle down over me, because it's the least you can fucking do. But I won't pay your tithes. I won't acknowledge the Bashmu Kar. I won't acknowledge the Wheel. Every spoke is a damnable creature of vanity. I had time with my gods. My gods are dead. Yours wont replace them.

Out of sight, out of spite. Spite is all I need. I can survive on spite. I did for ten years.

[SeerofLight]

The last thing I felt was anger. It never occurred to me that would be the way we parted. Even when death came for me it never occured to me, what it might be like if I never came back instead.

Its red, they're red now. Red as blood. They'll come and visit me in the night, now. Forevermore. I thought it wouldnt matter, like it never did. Maybe I can learn from them. Now all I can think of is how much better the world will be when he's dead.

They'll come in the night. They'll make me stronger, now.

It shows me what I want the most. I used to think it was coin. I used to be happier, before the Banda Rossa took me in. I explored, I laughed. I helped people. The orange was always meant to help.

What have I done?

[SeerofLight]

The days blend together easily. It feels as though it's been years since the last time my steel tasted blood. Where once there was thoughts of grandeur, of heroism, now I fear I'm darkening inside faster than I thought possible. Did I blind myself? Is there ever a way out of this? I have given myself to la Banda Rossa so wholly I forgot who I was, not even that long ago. The voices come and go. The dead, the damned. I feel it, like its always just barely touching the nerves under my skin. Sometimes I remember. Sometimes.

Tomorrow is a new day. The sun will rise again. The sun always rises, it is harsh, yet fair. I dont need much. I never did.

[Tucked with this page was a folded letter, closed within the book, sealed over. A few vague, recent sketches decorate its upper right hand corner, over the page of the book itself. Of violet hyacinths, and orchids, laced together with vines.]
[hide=Flowers and Sweets]In fields of death, where horrors reign supreme,
Amid the clash of steel and cries of pain,
There blooms a rare and delicate theme,
A sweet respite from bloodshed's cruel domain.

The scent of flowers in the air does rise,
A fragile beauty in a world so grim,
As if to taunt the battle's bloody prize,
With loveliness so pure, so light, so trim.

And there are sweets, too, amidst the fray,
A momentary pleasure for the senses,
A fleeting taste of sweetness to allay,
The horrors of the war's grim consequences.

Oh, flowers and sweets, so innocent and bright,
In this dark place, a source of pure delight.[/hide]

[SeerofLight]

[Written small, in the corner of a page.]

Unlawful Resistance: Verbal Taunting, Verbal Refusal
Destruction: 250gp of Damage
Theft: 250gp
Assault: Unarmed
Desecration: Tampering with a grave or taking things from it.
Vandalism: 250gp of Property Damage
Reckless Endangerment: Accidental
Arms Bearing

[SeerofLight]

I've never tried writing poetry before. And nobody can tell me where to find what I'm looking for. I'm fucked. I didnt have to learn poetry in the Pauper Ponds, this is why I'm in the Banda Rossa instead of the Balladeers. All I know how to do is paint, and that's not the same sort of theme.

The lesson with Amelie was good. I think I absorbed something. Gave me the idea that I could write songs, but I cant fucking sing them either. I dont know how she forgave me for what I did. By all rights, I feel the other two should hate my guts. I've certainly tried to get them to, it seems.

How dont they despise me?

I need to start practicing my writing. That might take my mind off it. Its something better to do with my hands than losing hours staring into that amulet. Maybe I'll look into the gem just a little while before my reverie. Just a little bit.