#rpjournal

I haven’t written in a journal in almost a year. Time, kept slipping away. Or so I kept telling myself. Since I finished the last one, even after the moves; I’ve kept it well within sight: corner of the binding and back peeking down at me.

Is it strange that just seeing it sometimes would remind me? Of stranger and harder times; when I had far less in some ways and far more in others. Of those who’ve walked beside me in days when I slipped my fingers across the edges and found the next blank page easily, without need for a marker. When I had a child on the way, a grand company seal on my shoulder as conscript; and a job and duty that was as difficult as it was an easy breath of air for the things it allowed me to let out. And the things it taught me to keep to myself.

Looking back: it was terrible, and wonderful all at once and often at the same time. And the same could be said today. Different venue, different colors and sigil. New people, and some I once thought and even would have sworn then I would never be able to mend relations with. After so long.. where do I even begin?

The same job, done under a different flag. I --we-- seem to be collecting those, the last few years. I’m no longer just in a company helping people; I help run it. Own it, with my partner. The name it used to hold, no longer fits after everything we’ve done and achieved; our work and the stories and mysteries, missing and misunderstood we’ve been able to collect, be a part of and even tell spread across Aldenard. And in some cases, even further.

We’ve done a good deal since I wrote last. Containing the undead presence within the Corpse Brigade after Rasha’s case. Quieting and sending on the Anima insistent on staying within Amari’s father’s sword. Putting a stop to a voidsent set on summoning a minor if legendary primal trio with the intent of keeping them separate and devouring their aether. A close call that one. Closer than I’d like to admit. A mystery surrounding the reanimation of Amaal’ja downed in a culling raid meant several months ago, for which many key questions still goes mostly unanswered. And now, we’re concentrating on the children of our own our people need and want to find, and reclaim.

My personal life, has probably been the most confusing; from the outside at least. And that last piece above, is no small part of it. Nhagi has been next to me again for some time. Maybe, the uncertainty I’ve harbored in my depths, far beneath hope and love; and just below need: is part of why I’ve avoided these pages. Putting things into words that can be read is sometimes difficult. Text can be emotive, at times. But I’ve found, that finding and understanding the thought and especially emotions behind those words can be the most difficult thing. I leave these things for my children, my mate, my family: for those of them truly interested in trying to understand.

Will you fully? Maybe some might. Or come close. Nhagi’ra, you will come closest, if not understand right away. For three years you’ve seen so many sides of my face, of me. The father and mate who lost his son and his woman in the course of a day. The father who realized too late that son never left him. The male who saw you. The one who waited, and picked his fights; while trying not to interfere with yours. I stand with you, walk with you; fight and rest and run beside you. Always.

I wish we could spare Khadru. I do. But I know you, I know enough of him, I know those he’s been fool enough to make enemies of and I see where this has gone and what few places it can go. Attacking the Beds, attacking a Clan. Using the Coerlclaw of all he could have chosen, to do it. Taking your daughter. Killing the rest of the children, and others. What mercy would the Grand Companies give them even if we did ask them for more? He’s battered what pride the Serpents have. He’s punched death in past their defenses, among the families of their own and those adventurers that live in those same neighborhoods; against a Clan that, granted: did not hold to the most basic of traditions .. but still is Keeper blood; and did so with a group of blasphemous sisters whose reputation and care was already low and on edge in the eyes of their people. Murdering those children, they and Khadru will and in some cases do already have the full attention of the others. They ask; what will stop him from choosing us next. Whose children are safe other than his. Why should he and those he brought to kill babies be allowed to continue with the knowledge they might and are likely to do it again. Why should they be allowed to continue on as though there are no lasting consequences for their lasting offenses. The only answers remain: that they shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. And they will know those consequences. If it has to be delivered; I would rather it was by us. I would rather you had your daughter back and had the closure of knowing at least this part was done.

It was wrong, hypocritical and disrespectful of you, your blood and line to keep you from her for this long; especially after her mother abandoned her, and try to make her theirs alone rather than allowing Yabi her sire and her choices in a clan that big. No matter the excuse, none is good enough to surpass the fact you are her only remaining and immediate blood: and unlike the Eft or Marbol; want and wanted her because she is your daughter and kin. Because you wanted to be a father to your daughter. Not because of a title, or as bait to keep someone else nearby because little else that is true would hold them.

The same: It is what it is. The past is irreversible. It’s this day and the days ahead we can shape, now. I am not afraid to dig in up to my elbows and do so with you; in any way I can. We’ll get her back to you, finally; after three years. The painting they mocked you with, the brief visits to tease you. Your brother’s betrayal taking her entirely after the four of us promised to bring her back to your side. These things will be mended. We’ll bring her home to you.