07.14.04 Letter to Guarrin (short story)
Title: Letter to Guarrin
Author: player of Charna Ja'Varrel'Kav
Guarrin,
I am not sure what rumor has reached your ear or what facts have come to you, and since we seem to pass one another much like the Morning Dove missing sunset, I decided to write you this letter and leave it with the temple clerics in hope that they would see you before I did.
Last night was hard; once again this war forced me to be covered in the blood of a friend. I’m so weary of it. Everywhere I turn I find myself in a situation where I must do what has to be done. And at every turn, I find that the price for it is more anger from people around me. I am sure that Raelee will be furious with me for a time to come, her precious knowledge lost and her, of course, blaming me and the Sickle’s Heart.
Let me go back for a moment, my mind is a jumble and I want to make sure I tell this to you in the proper order.
Last night when I met with Sickle’s Heart, to speak to him of the death of Cerisago, we came across the Magus. He seemed weak and wane, unusually disturbed by the headaches that were plaguing us all. We quickly realized that something was amiss and drew him off the streets into the Café where we could keep quiet watch over him.
It was there in that Café that Harith tried for control over Deshian by using the Magus’ love for her and his god as a power source. We tried to stop it from happening while sparing the Magus his life. We called for the Lady and she came with the Deacon but it did not help and in the end, Sickle’s Heart spoke a prayer to his Lady and claimed the Magus’ life.
It was at the moment of his death, and because she had bonded with him so completely thus almost succeeding in her designs, that Harith and Deshian died as well.
I raised him then, feeling the pressure of his god upon my wrists with the act of linking souls, and brought him back by Zelia’s grace. I hope it soothes his soul as she has soothed mine, though I am unsure.
I feel sorry for what has come to pass. I have done my duty to the town and her people by aiding in the destruction of the Whip and once again it has come at the cost of another’s pain. There are days when I wonder if I am a vessel of Mularos’ for the pain that I deal out instead of a vessel of the Resistance. Then again, the Resistance for the most part denies that I am one of them. I am alone in this war, Guarrin. You have your Gryphons and your VOLN. You are embraced within the folds of the Elanthian Alliances and I am on the outside looking in. Always doing what must be done and forever scorned for my actions in it, even when they are right and true.
I have lived by the mandates set before us by the Prophet, a man who is widely scorned by so many nowadays that it pains me to listen to. I have done all that I can to see that Havenites are kept safe only to scoff at as much as the Prophet. I am tired. Tired of the war, tired of justifying my actions, and tired of being hurt in my heart.
Last night a friend told me that in this war we all had to use the tools that were given to us. He was and is right. I hope that one day people will come to understand that.
The scribe over my shoulder is starting to annoy me. He has corrected no fewer than eight of my misspellings and it makes me nervous to have someone reading how I am feeling.
I hope this letter finds you well.
By my hand on the 14th day of Koaratos in the year 5104
Charna