Opalina (prime)/The Weight of a Promise
The Weight of a Promise
Title: The Weight of a Promise
Author: Opalina Jalcon
From the journals of Opalina Jalcon- 2-3-2002
There are moments when the world grows so quiet that you can hear your own heartbeat.
Then there are moments when someone else's heartbeat echoes inside your mind.
Today... it was not my own thoughts keeping me company.
I had slipped into the Temple hoping for answers. Instead I found arguments. Friends spoke against friends. Thurfel's name was tossed about like a blade, while unseen voices whispered from the shadows, each insisting they alone knew the truth.
I stayed hidden as long as I could.
Perhaps I thought if no one saw me, whatever haunted the room would pass me by.
It did not.
The smoke found me as though it had been searching all along.
Cold. Heavy. Alive.
Everyone else saw only black tendrils curling around my feet.
I felt fingers.
Not on my skin...
Inside my thoughts.
"You thought I would forget you so soon?"
No.
I had never believed that.
How could I? Every quiet moment since our bargain had been borrowed.
Everyone asked if I was all right. If the voice was speaking to me.
How could I explain what it is like to hold an entire conversation without moving your lips? To hear threats delivered so gently that no one else could hear them?
They looked at me with concern.
He looked at them as leverage.
Every person I loved suddenly became a weapon that could be turned against me.
Find the staff.
Find the bearer.
Do not fail.
Or they would suffer.
The choice was never truly mine.
Silon wanted to guard me.
Sweet, stubborn Silon.
He believed steel could protect me.
If only monsters fought with blades.
Jestin questioned me, trying to understand why I would even seek the staff.
How could I tell him?
If I searched, I endangered everyone.
If I refused...
I endangered everyone.
Some burdens offer no right answer.
Only different kinds of guilt.
I kept telling the voice that I wanted no deaths.
Not my friends.
Not strangers.
Not even my enemies.
Perhaps that is what amused it most.
Mercy sounds very small beside immortal cruelty.
Then came Jarlstrom.
Dear, impossible Jarlstrom.
Still joking.
Still laughing.
Still refusing to fear things that hid in shadows.
He mocked the unseen.
I begged him to stop.
I remember reaching toward him.
I remember wanting one more second.
Lightning answered before I could.
The sound split the sky.
One heartbeat he was laughing.
The next...
he was lying at my feet.
I have seen death before.
Too many times.
But this one carried my name inside it.
Not because I cast the bolt.
Because I had been warned.
Because I knew what the voice was capable of.
Because it had happened to someone standing beside me.
Then Jestin challenged it.
Another flash.
Another life ended.
The air smelled of ozone and fear.
People screamed.
Friends wept.
I could only whisper...
"Please... no more."
I do not know whether the plea was for the Nine...
or for myself.
The others think I am strong.
Perhaps they see courage where I feel only exhaustion.
They do not hear the bargains whispered into the corners of my thoughts.
They do not wake wondering whether every conversation is overheard.
Whether every smile given to a friend marks another target.
Tonight I held a staff in my hands.
Only a carved thornwood walking staff.
Not the one they sought.
Still...
my hands trembled.
For just a heartbeat I wondered what would happen if it truly had been the Staff.
Would I have the strength to destroy it?
To surrender it?
Or would the voice finally claim what little remained of me?
I still do not know.
But I know this.
If the Nine believe threatening the people I love will make me become like them...
they have misunderstood me completely.
Every life they take hardens my resolve.
Every threat reminds me why they must never succeed.
I am afraid.
Terribly afraid.
But fear is not surrender.
Not yet.