Opalina (prime)/The Plan That Should Never Have Been
The Plan That Should Never Have Been
Title: The Plan That Should Never Have Been
Author: Opalina Jalcon
From the journals of Opalina Jalcon- 2002
I truly believed I had found an answer.
For so long I had carried only questions—questions about the staff, the Essence, the Council, Thurfel, and whether there was any path left that did not end in ruin. When I learned the Essence sought the true staff, a single thought rooted itself in my mind: What if they chased the wrong one?
It seemed so simple.
A friend possessed a staff that looked much like the true one. If Lady Xeldria carried the imitation while someone she trusted secretly moved the real staff to Koar's altar in Pinefar, perhaps the burden would finally be lifted. Perhaps Koar Himself could destroy it... or seal it away where no mortal ambition could ever reach it again.
I walked to Lady Xeldria with hope fluttering in my chest. She welcomed me kindly, listened without interruption, and never once made me feel foolish for asking.
Patiently, she explained what I had failed to understand.
The staff could not simply be taken to Pinefar—not by ordinary means.
But I thought I had solved even that.
The Four Winds Hall.
I had traveled through it before. I knew its doors, its routes, its conveniences. In my mind it was only another road, another bridge between distant places. I laid out my idea piece by piece, convinced that I had finally found the missing thread.
Then she asked a question that stopped me.
"Exactly how would the Four Winds Halls allow the staff to get to Pinefar?"
As I described passing the staff from one trusted person to another inside the Hall, I watched understanding settle over her face.
"So," she said, "you would suggest that we pass the staff along during... let's say... a raffle."
I nodded.
Then came the words I never expected.
"Even though we have been asked specifically not to do so."
My heart sank.
I hadn't known.
Not for a moment had it crossed my mind that such an exchange would violate the trust placed in those who used the Four Winds Hall. To me it had been clever logistics. To those who understood the Hall, it was using a privilege in a way it was never meant to be used—a kind of black market hidden beneath ordinary travel.
She explained gently that the consequences were severe. Privileges revoked. Penalties beyond that.
I felt my cheeks burn.
Not because she scolded me.
Because she didn't.
She could have dismissed me outright. She could have laughed at the absurdity of my plan or questioned my judgment. Instead, she simply shared the truth, quietly and kindly, protecting me from a mistake I never knew I was making.
"Well I definitely don't want anyone to lose their privileges," I found myself saying, the plan crumbling before it had ever taken shape.
She even whispered where I could find the rules myself, inviting me to read and understand rather than simply obey.
By the time she rose to leave, she thanked me for the suggestion.
Thanked me.
I stood there after she departed, staring at the empty chair.
My plan had failed.
But perhaps the meeting had not.
Sometimes wisdom is not discovering the perfect solution.
Sometimes it is learning that good intentions are not enough—that the road to righteousness must itself be righteous.
I left that table disappointed, but grateful.
The staff was still in danger.
The journey was still uncertain.
Yet because of Lady Xeldria's patience, I would not become the very thing I was trying to fight: someone willing to bend trust for the sake of a worthy cause.
There has to be another way.
And when I find it...
It will be one I can walk with a clear conscience.