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A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

The nice healers are letting me out to get some fresh air, and sun today. Fel, I need to get well, and get well now!

I had to stop and re-read that last line. Because it is speaking volumes to me. (Oh, yeah, having a lot of time on your hands does that to a person. You listen to a person's voice and pick up the nuances of their speech. This must be what my trainer was getting at - never did get it then, now I do.)

Oh, and I had visitors yesterday, Kel'Tira and her nice husband Nic. We talked, and it seems my feelings were very transparent to Kel where Karamia was concerned (I must wear my heart on my sleeve, right out there where everyone can see it). And she said something that clicked with me (not then, but it does now) "Mia is grieving Tyrael's death, she loved him." And Nic mentioned that she cared for another paladin too (tho his name escapes me at the moment - the one the demoness made into her personal slave, I believe).

I think in their own ways, they were warning me to go slow with my affection for Karamia. And I can see where their concerns lie, they do not want to see either of us get hurt in what may be a beautiful thing if given time to nurture and grow. Especially now with all the tumoil in her life.

Now back to that "get well, and get well now!" thing - I have always had an impulsive nature. If I saw something I wanted, I took it. Regardless of the circumstances at that time, just worry about it later. If I wanted to go somewhere, I went. If I thought I could do it, I tried to do it...and that sort of thinking/nature more or less led me to where I am now. Recuperating from a near fatal run-in with a big bad boss man, and his goons playing a game of Dog-Pile-on-the-Sin'dorei.

I know I'm young. There are still a lot of rough edges to smooth out, but I am coming along. Better than I had hoped actually and some of that has come from associating with the Fellowship. They say you are who you keep company with, and maybe that is true. Let me tell you, there really is no honor among thieves (I know, I am one, well...kind of). Yet being with these paladins has really changed my outlook on several perspectives. And I think it's for the good. (A good thief? Is there such a thing? Except as being one in his field of expertise? Like a good second story man, or a good assassin, kind of thing).

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A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood... page 2 of 2

I know I need to take my time with the love I carry for Karamia. I need it to grow slowly, taking it's time, so we can learn about each other, our wants and our desires in life.

Right now it is burning so hot in my breast like a fire, consuming me and almost controlling my very actions. I want to hold her, to kiss her, and yes, love her...passionately, forever.

And that may be good, but it will eventually die, those big fires usually do. And it is definitely not what Karamia needs right now.

However, if banked and kept fed in a slow manner, it will warm for a long time. I want to warm Karamia a long time. And so I must go slow...for the both of us. Somehow I must contain my passion, and pull it back.

I need to be a friend. Someone she can converse with, learn to trust, and confide in. In return, I will gain a new friend too.

I don't want to think about it, it hurts to think about it, but she may well reject any amorous attempt in our relationship. A friend may be all she wants or really needs. And I will need to be ready to accept that. I cannot make her love me. What kind of love would that be?

Some day, in the future, I hope I can tell her how my first love for her inspired me to better myself, and that being in love with her made me a better man. Some day.

I think I'll go in now, and take a nap, all this writing has worn me out - emotionally. Life can be so exhilarating, and it can be so cruel. It is not ours to direct, but to live through it all, one day at a time. Some days are full of warmth and sunshine, and others are cold and overcast. And it is when it is cold and overcast, look back and remember those warm sunny ones.

Maybe I just need to get out of here and kill something. That usually brightens my mood.

Not.

The Black journal commonly used by the Warlock, Fel green magic titers across the front, etching a dragon, breathing fire. Its rather beautiful! She opens the pages, to write about her last day as A member of the Rising Sun Fellowship.

I do not feel at home with the Fellowship. I have to admit, I infiltrated them, only to find out what happened to Trayly. My last hope died with Tyrael. The basterd got himself killed so I couldn't question him properly. I wonder if he was affraid of my magic? We are not loved, we as Warlocks are tolerated. Only another Warlock can love a Warlock, and even then, its more of a power struggle, coniving, lies, and who can best the other. Think of us as Black Widow Spiders, Or a praying mantis, we will behead our lovers, so husbands never make it long.

Back to the Fellowship, I was never asked for help, I never offered any. Again I never truly belonged. So I have taken my leave. And that is that. I do not belive in elongating things, dragging them out. I can not use the Fellowship to answer my questions since the one who had them is gone! In death I have to belive that he will pay for his sins of my dear Trayly. May she finnaly rest in peace.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

My progress is almost miraculous. The healers are astounded at my recovery, they say I should still be unconcious, and an invalid. Not this boy!

My strength returns as I rest, hours upon hours of sleep. I feel a little stiff and I'm not sure I could 'hide' very well, but I am coming along well. It's a good thing.

I decided to go to the guild meeting after all. I cannot hide from Karamia. I must strengthen my resolve to seeing her, and interacting with her. Otherwise, what am I, a basketcase around her? (Well, yeah, I kind of am, but I'll improve with continual expose to her. Heavy sigh)

I think I'll go sit by the fountain again...I find it relaxing, and a good place to gather my thoughts.

Whats done is done.

((Wrong thread Wyndd :x))

The leather cover is black, it appears to have been intentionally dyed, for the inside cover is still a dull white. The wear and tear of its owner's lifestyle has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark. Neither the book nor its contents seem the worse for having been immersed in water in the past, and there are pieces of seaweed with entries written on them tucked into the back of the book, they lend a fresh, sea-salt smell to the tome.

Kel'tira Sunblaze

Does Mia know how Cyaer feels? Does Cyaer know what he is going to do regarding Mia? Does he realize that what she needs more than anything is, most simply, a friend? Does Nic know that there is nothing I needed more that day than his arms around me? Does he know that he was able to give me something no one else can? Does he know how much he means to me? That I love him more than anything? That I would give anything for him? Does he know that he means the world to me? Does he know that he is the only one I trust completely, without reservations?

Do any of them understand? Do any of them realize that I would give me anything for them? That I actually care? Do they see that I am trying my hardest, and only want us to succeed?

Light, I hope they can understand why I make the choices I do... I hope they can see...

Light, grant me strength so I can do what I must. Light grant me knowledge so I can see the path ahead of me. Light grant me faith so I can be safe in knowing that everything will work out in the end.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

The healers are going to let me loose. They said I should take it easy at first, but I'll be as good as new within a week. Little did they know that I was sneaking out late at night stretching, and oiling up my skills.

I am ready to return to the Ghostlands. I am not apprehensive, nor do I fear it. I only want to return, finish my commissions there, then move on.

When I spoke to Karamia last night, she reminded me that I could always ask for assistance if I need it. The lone wolf persona kicked in for a moment, but I reined him in. I have come to realize that my friends care about me, and I them. So I will ask, if the need arises.

Speaking of Karamia, I met with her in the Hall, to present her with the gift I had been caring for. I was nervous on how she would receive it, but she seemed to fall in love with him as soon as she saw him (How I wish that was me.) The winterspring cub took to her almost immediately. I watched as her graceful hands caressed its soft fur, and scratched his ears. She soon had him literally eating from her hands. (Oh, Mia, I'm right here.)

I offered her my friendship, and that I was willing to listen if the need presented itself. My heart betrayed itself to her - I kept fidgeting, and became so excited being there with her that she actually asked if I was having a relapse. (Oh, you weak willed body, you will be so sore tonight after I work you hard.) I told her no, and made an excuse to leave early. It was difficult to leave her and Percival, but I tore myself away for fear of exposing my true feelings for her.

The dream returned last night, and I awoke in a sweat again. What fleeting images I could remember were of a dark shadowy figure and my Karamia lying on the floor in a pool of blood. What is this nightmare I carry within me? Why do I continue to have this...dream? Fel, but I need to know!

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

A side note: I ran myself ragged tonight. I stretched myself to my limits, and did not falter. I pushed my body til it cried out in agony, and still pushed harder. I will control this machine that is myself. I will be come the master of my emotions, and my body. There will be no repeats of last night with Karamia - I will maintain control!

I fell exhausted in to the bed when I returned. But I smiled, for I was master of my domain, my body, and my mind. I move forward with my plans, and hope to one day fight alongside my Karamia - hope, no I will fight beside her. Someday...soon.

Journal of Karamia

The days are blurry still, at times I look at the drawing of Tyrael and the tears threaten. But I must go on...I must move past this lump in my throat and do the work I started. I am strong and competent. I must try and let my heart mend.

The sleeping bundle of fur next to me on the bed is white and purple. He purrs to me as I scratch his ears and stroke his soft fur. What a marvelous gift...and Cyaer has no idea how right it is for me to have this comfort, this playful sweet cat who chews on everything. I wonder if he is trying to tell me something?

We fought a gruesome monster in the Blades Edge Mountains. The battle was hard and I fell more than once. If it had not been for the strength and perseverance of Aranthil, the determination of Kel'Tira, the bond of courage between Angiel and Malathir, and the presence of mind of Wyndsong, we would not have survived. The Fellowship is growing and thriving. We are strength together, we will not fail!

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

I have pulled up a piece of the Zul'Man ruins and pulled out my journal. A thought overtook me on the ride here.

Why do I love Karamia? A part from her being an attractive Sin'dorei woman, with a charming smile, and a delightful laugh. Why no reason at all. (Yeah, right.)

I searched deep in my angst for my reasoning and I believe it is that she carries all those traits that I find desireable in a woman. She is strong, and capable of caring for herself, not a simple court foo-foo that screams at the sight of a tiny spider (Fel, I hate that kind of woman).

She holds strong to her faith and convictions like an oak, not like a reed that bends at the slightest breeze. And I have watched her in a few of the Fellowship meetings, she listens and digests what she hears. She is intelligent, and that means a great deal to me.

She has a heart that is capable of great love. Some would see that has a weakness, but it is another part of her that makes me want to be closer to her. I do not know how Tyrael felt about Karamia, I hardly knew him actually. But Karamia loved him, and I can only hope I can one day be worthy of her love and affections...one day, hopefully.

As I have said before, with all these strong attributes, she is still a woman who needs a man to protect her. A man to hold her in his arms, and whisper undying love for her and only her into her ear. A man to kiss her passionately and embrace her close, to let her know she is a woman to be desired and loved.

Plate armor and a heavy sword are merely tools, but when you go to bed at night, can they keep you warm and share your dreams with you. I think not. No, I think not.

This is why I love my Karamia, she is so many things to me, and she is one thing to me.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

I am free! I have been released from the recuperative ward in Falconwing Square! And I am free! I thanked all the healers for watching over me and gave a generous donation to their church. Free! Free! FREE!

I ran, yes, I ran all the way to Silvermoon City, and the first place I went was to the Wayfarer's Inn. They serve the best food, and drinks to celebrate being free! I hunkered down over a plate of steaming roast beef, the best potatoes in the world, and some delightful little rolls that virtually melt in your mouth. It was a feast! And I feel good and fat from it.

I took a stroll around the city, and happened to stop by my trainers to see what the latest news was. One of them grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me over into a dark corner.

Word of my exploits and work done here and in the Ghostlands have reached the ears of the Shattered Hand leaders in Ogrimmar, and I was to report to one of them immediately! So, I made haste to meet with them. And I was commissioned to seek out materials for the warchief's own weaponsmith to create a weapon without equal for my accomplishments!

I am honored that my work has reached higher ups, and they liked what I was doing. However it almost seems hollow without Karamia beside me sharing in my achievments. I will let her know tho, I'm sure she will be proud of me regardless.

While in Orgrimmar, I looked into some new armor, and weapons. While the armor was top rate, I was not impressed with the swords and daggers displayed. I was leaving, when I ran into a good friend, Kel'Tira! We sat and talked and drank for awhile, before she had to leave. It was good to talk with her. Tho she appears to missing the reassuring arms of her husband.

And who does Karamia have to reassure her? To give her support in her hours of need? I am here, Karamia. My ear is always open, as well as my arms. Oh, Karamia, my dear sweet Karamia.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

A very eventful first day out. After meeting with Kel'Tira, I made my way back to the Ghostlands, and to the traitorous Dar'Khan Drathir in his den of evil in Deatholme. I left the worst for last, as I stuck down his lieutenants, and released the captives he was torturing for information.

I stepped down to engage the monster, when Karamia's words rang in my ears - "if you ever need assistance, call upon the Fellowship, and aid will be there, don't try to do everything by yourself". And I pulled back. I hesitated, then opened my guildstone, and put out a call for help.

And it was answered, by the beautiful Wynddsong. I kept the crypt/tower of Dar'Khan clear of his henchmen until her arrival, and she entered. She was very efficient in her slaying of the fiend and the others. I thanked her, and was so overwhelmed by her generous gesture of coming to help me, I gave her a hug. She blew me a kiss, and said to call her anytime.

Kel'Tira, Karamia, Wynddsong - all proud fierce warriors of the Light. Each beautiful, and each my friend. I stand humbled and proud to be a part of this Rising Sun Fellowship. I await my turn to aid a fellow member in need in the Fellowship, and I will do it proudly and with the character that my friends have shown me. My thanks to you all. I salute you!

The once-white cover is now black, and wear and tear of has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark. The entire tome smells of sea-salt and a soft, lilac perfume.

Kel'tira Sunblaze

This is what I have come to?

I have heard, before, that the leader is at the beck and call of her people, and in my case, it appears doubly so. Between the House and the Fellowship, my moments of time for myself are fleeting. I cannot, however, say that this bothers me unduly, as I like feeling like I am doing something for others. I only wish I had more time with my husband.

Yes, that is the thing I miss most, time with the man I love. Between his duties and my own, our time alone together is stolen in moments. I honestly cannot keep my mind off of him... He is always with me in my thoughts, and that makes our times together so much sweeter. One day, one day hopefully soon, we will have all the time in the world to spend with each other...

One day...

(A detailed, colored drawing of Nicias is tucked between the pages, a small heart drawn on the back, with the initials, “N.S.”)

I met with Cyaer yesterday. I ran into him in Orgrimmar, and fear I was far more open with him than I should have been... He is so young... Perhaps I should not have burdened him with the idea that I worry about what I do, and whether I make the right decisions. Either way, he did give me his support, and it is good to know that people do have faith in me.

Light knows I do not have enough faith in myself, sometimes.

And now, here we all are. Part of a group trying to make our way in the world. Part of a community that has pledged themselves to one another. My dream for the Fellowship is, perhaps, for us to become a force of great good in the world of Azeroth, and beyond.

A dark shape crouched up on the broken wall. The remains of what had been an inn lay strewn around the overgrown courtyard like so many bones.

The forsaken shuffled forward, his gate unsteady, his balance seemingly off, his eyes drawn forward to each step that he took. This was a ruse, a clever design that she had seen over the past few days. It covered what was a far more agile and intelligence person than was portrayed. It wouldn’t help him now.

She dropped down behind him lightly, her feet hitting the ground without a sound. The daggers were gripped in her hands. She sprinted forward…

***
(New entry in a plain brown leather journal)

I am not an assassin, although it seems that I must be one more and more. I am not certain how pleased I am with this, but for the moment, the choice isn’t mine.

There were certain matters that needed my attention before I could more forward and now that those matters have been attended to, the time has come for the next step. While I still do not know who hired the forsaken, I do not have the time to pursue it. Other things take precedent and I cannot say no.

I cannot say no… déjà vu, again.

I will need to speak with Kel’Tira soon; I know that she has much on her plate but the time has come for me to become the other person—the one outside the fellowship. I cannot even tell them of truth of who I am or what I will be doing. Only a handful of people know and it must remain that way. If everything falls apart, plausible deniability will be all they have… and as for me, well, I get that shallow, unmarked grave after all.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

I wandered the streets of Silvermoon City, catching a few places that had meaning for me. I would be leaving tomorrow for Hillsbrad. I am excited, and yet I will miss my home and homelands.

I walked into the Hall we call home in the Rising Sun Fellowship. I imagined all the members there talking and laughing. I set myself on one of the divans, and soon found myself asleep.

I awoke to the rough texture of Percival licking my face, and Karamia laughing. I sat up, and rubbed my eyes. And Karamia told me to stand, as she had something for me. I stood still, as she walked up to me and extended a beautiful torq to fasten about my neck. Her hands remained on my shoulders as we talked. And I held her hands in mine for a brief time.

We sat and spoke about the Fellowship, we spoke of friends in the Fellowship, and I reiterated my offer to be her friend always. I was saddened when we had to go our separate ways, but I'm sure we will meet again soon.

I was able to maintain my cool, and not let my emotions run wild. Tho my heart was racing the whole time. I had rationalized in my mind, to see Karamia as a friend, as I did not get flustered and anxious around Wyndd or Kel. I have a very real desire to know Karamia, and as a friend. She is well worth the effort.

Something else happened last night also. It seems I am not alone in the nightmares I am having. Karamia and I talked with Kel'tira on the guildstone, and she too had been having nightmares. When I asked Karamia if she had had any, she told me she had them frequently. I assumed the tortures of the demoness Viragona had left her with those. It saddened me she lived with nightmares as a common occurance. Kel and Mia conversed as to whether the dreams might be magically induced.

I slept well throughout the night, dreams of Karamia and myself together enjoying each others company kept a smile on my face. I awoke refreshed and ready to take on the new day.

One last item: I worry for Kel'tira. She misses Nic, it is very evident.

A small leather bound journal, the cover scratched and worn, some of the edging red from blood...

The journal is near full, I will need to retire this one, and set about to getting a new one. I will miss re-reading my entries occassionally, as they have become old friends, refreshing my memories and keeping me focused. I will store this one in my bank.

I am at my physical peak, I look into a mirror and see near perfection. I am not vain, but in my line of work, being fit is not only necessary, it is a matter of life or death.

I do not ride the hawkstrider I bought very often, I run. I enjoy the sensation of the ground beneath my feet, and the wind on my face...well, and the hawkstrider makes me ill. It's bouncy gait makes me nauseous, and I find myself needing to stop too often.

I look forward to testing my skills and abilities here in Hillsbrad. The fresh air and sunlight remind me of my homelands, as well as all the trees. I enjoy the great outdoors, the freedom, and the wildlife. Perhaps in another carnation, I will be a hunter, for I do love the wilderness!

I will be doing many of my commissions here for the Forsaken. I am still growing accustomed to their look and their sound. They are our allies, and I will do my best to assist them in whatever they require of me.

My thoughts keep returning to Karamia, and I find myself missing her. It was good to talk with her before I left. She is a comfort to my soul and my heart. I may have embarrassed her as I preferred to use her full name, Karamia, than Mia. But to me, her name is poetry to my lips, and it sounds like a gentle song to my ears. Karamia, Karamia, Karamia.

If I could but only tell her my feelings for her. It aches sometimes to hold it in, unable to express this love I have for her. As I learn more about her, the more I talk with her, the more it grows within my heart. I...I...I will hold on, and keep her here in my thoughts and my heart.

My hand touches the bronze torq she gave me. It's is nice to have something I can touch that she worked with her own hand. It is very dear to me already.

..

The once-white cover is now black, and wear and tear of has left its mark on the thick book. Pieces of paper and other small mementos peep out of the pages, and a piece of soap on a rope hangs from the binding as a bookmark. The entire tome smells of sea-salt and a soft, lilac perfume.

Kel'tira Sunblaze

(The writing is shaky, letters smashed together. A perceptive person would, perhaps, guess the writer was terrified or drunk. Or both.)

A dream. It was just a dream. Light...I drank myself into unconsciousness last night. Something I am not proud of. I have not been that drunk in a very, very long time.

Nightmares... While a good part of last night is a drunken blur, my dream sticks in my head with a frightening clarity.

Will setting it on paper help me forget?

Is there a reason I had it?

Will the image of my husband's body ever fade?

It was dark. The twisted landscape of my insubstantial surroundings was vaporous and surreal. The strange noises from the darkness drove me forward until I stumbled over something pale on the ground. Throwing my hands forward to break my fall, my fingers encountered smooth, cold flesh. My sister's eyes stared up glassily at me as I flinched back. Something forced me to rise, my flight continued anew. Twice more I fell, finding both my brother's body and the fourth, nameless Sunblaze child.

The scene shifted. I was confronted with a pile of motionless corpses. Faces I knew leered out at me. Mother and Father; Treyn, a knife slash opened across his cheek; Auxilia, face frozen in a mask of pain; Kara, torn open by the yeti that killed her; Varus, head and body seperated. Countless others, all people I knew and recognized. I turned and ran. Only to find myself somewhere else entirely.

The mound of cadavers was replaced by towering stands filled with people. Men, women, and children of all races cheered and cajoled. The sword in my hand was heavy. Arena walls towered overhead, and spectators screamed aloud, even as my awareness focused around the figure approaching across the sand.

Unwillingly, I squared my stance as Mia approached. Her own cloth garb a sharp contrast to my gladiator's plate. As she halted an arms-length away from me, my sword rose against my will, hovering even with Mia's chest. I could only watch as my hand drove the weapon into her chest. I could only watch as she crumpled to the ground. I could only watch as more and more of the people I cared for approached. Only watch as I slew them all, one by one.

Mia. An'giel. Cyaer. Auxilia. Mal. Tyrael. Ash. Wyndd. Quill. Kalrei.

The next figure to approach was one I would recognize anywhere. My husband, my Nic, walking across the blood-stained sand. When he met my eyes first, his lips formed my name, I could see it. After he caught sight of the bodies of our friends around us, his relief changed to something akin to fear, betrayal. Hate. That was possibly the worst for me. Watching Nic's love change to disgust.

I almost felt justified in killing him, until my body was released into my own control, and I sank down on the sand, watching him bleed out onto my armor. The hardest thing for me, was seeing what I had wrought. What I had become. In that moment, I hated myself more than anything.

I spoke with Mia earlier, she thinks it likely Viragona is not as dead as we had thought, and could be behind these dreams.

Cyaer and I also spoke at length. He is entirely in love. I think he will be good for Mia, even if he is that much younger than she is. His dedication to her is astounding. He cares for her deeply, and his careful consideration carries into everything he does.

I am done writing. My head aches, I emptied all of my alcohol from my bag, and all I want right now is a drink. I am afraid to sleep, yet can barely keep my eyes open.