Ineia's Journal

 It seems like months since I had time to write, like time has just stopped progressing in the normal way. I haven't slept since... sometime before we came to the city. 

Last night I thought we would go to bed after dinner, but decided to explore the city instead. While we were out a man stumbled into us, bleeding. He said "Treachery! Tell the king! Yalethkarr has fallen." and collapsed on the ground. The fall of the cities had begun. I thought he had died, but with Inayin's help I was able to stabilize him. 

Back at the estate I tried to save Yalifer's life. The poison had worked deep into his blood, and he was wounded by both sword and arrow. I could feel my own face was pale as I tried everything I knew--with the use of the extensive herbal medicines available and Inayin s assistance. When I needed clean blood Fjalanor simply rolled his sleeve up. He didn't say anything, just sat in the chair I gave him and held his arm out over the bowl and let me drain his blood with metal tubes. I thought his blood would be enough. It... I think it would have been if I'd been able to start sooner. It should have been enough. 

At sunrise, after hours of effort, after draining Fjalenar of all color, Yalifer took one last shuddering breath and died. Even with the Lotus Paste and  Fjalenar's blood I couldn't save him. 

At this point it was dawn. Fjalenar fell asleep, but the rest of us went down for breakfast. I put the messengers sealed letter in my pocket. We told Lady Vianrei and Rinsos who the messenger was and what his message was. We told them where we were from. I wept as I told them the city would fall and all the horrors that were coming. They believed us, as much as was possible. Maybe our horror at hearing that Parbeas had arrived in town convinced them. He is at the palace now.

 Thargash came in from his night out--apparently he'd been watching for Lady Anaris, who had arrived with her anvil that night. He explained the anvil was how he intended to move to his own time and get us back to ours. He wanted us to steal it. I said we should talk to her first, maybe explain a little bit of the situation so she understands. How can I steal from someone who was kind to us?

I also pleaded with Thargash to come back with us. He is a good teacher. He's worked with nobles and seen many fights and always managed to find a way through. I need his help. If he came back I could make a place for him, and anyone who had a problem with it could take it up with me--my parents included. I'd build a place for him, I'd make him fit. 

But it isn't only that I need him. I also don't want to fight him. I've grown fond of him. I can't let him go through with his plan and when he tries I'll have to stop him. But I don't WANT to stop him.  Thargash is the only part of the battle at the Jade bridge I dread. 

I don't even dread dying. 

But, of course, he wouldn't agree. 

I am captivated by his passion for his wife. It makes me think of Neras and Kanle, who were willing to burn the world down for each other. I can't imagine loving anyone like that. I don't want to love like that, whatever the hymns might say about them "teaching us to love." I've always known I'd make a different choice than Kanle. There are too many people precious to me to let them burn for one man. It would be better to cut my heart out than let it betray me that way.

And yet, here I am thoughts returning repeatedly to Kanle and Neras, Thargash and his wife...

Fjalenar came out at this point and suggested we go to Lady Anaris in person. We agreed to go after breakfast. I put a kettle on to boil, and before I let Fjalenar leave I set a steaming mug of Purple Sorrel tea in front of him. He was so pale. He hadn't complained, but there was no reason for him to be miserable when I know my way around an herb cabinet.

 Fjalanor freely gave his blood. He never mentioned how we'd be changing Time if I succeeded--or any of the arguments he used with Thorankarr. He simply gave his blood to save a man he'd never met-- and then seemed surprised when I thanked him. Fjalenar is... Giving oneself like that is... To use the word "generous" doesn't seem quite right. Giving clothes or money is generous. Giving blood is so much more personal that it should have a word of its own. At least he was looking less drained by the time he'd finished the tea. 

When we arrived at the palace (Tenuyala and Telari were with us) we found Lady Anaris with some difficulty. The palace is quite large, and apparently there were SIX Lady Anarises.' She was very happy to see us at first, and before we'd had time to say much at all a  handsome man came up to be introduced. My stomach dropped. It was Lord Parbeas. 

He immediately saw that we had Treian blood, and I invented a story about a Treian ancestor in our blood line way back. He said the city would be empty soon, and asked if we'd like that. I told him I would miss the Treians. 

The double meanings made me nauseous. He was like a cat with a mouse, just playing with it--outright saying what was going to happen, and no one understanding except us. He said he'd just come from Lanenkarr. Is the crown of the last Treian Lord of Lannenkarr here--the one that appears on his head in the Seige of the Red Isle? I feel sick.

He left, and Fjalenar made some choice comments once he was gone. Quite mild, really (he was remarkably restrained!), but Lady Anaris was deeply offended. She did allow us to talk to her in her rooms, but after those comments she was cold and distant. I promised our friendship in her time of need, and warned against trusting Lord Parbeas, and even told her about the messenger (Tenuyala showed her Fjalenar's arm as proof). It was no use. We cannot save the Anvil through her. 

Heartsick and subdued, we returned House Neras, only to see Lord Akdhēras' carriage departing. We had been unaware that Inayin had set an appointment with Lord Akdhēras, hoping to have us present while Lord Akdhēras healed his eyes. When we weren't there, Inayin refused the rite. We just missed it. We have now deeply offended him, and Lady Vianrei is worried. We have caused her so much trouble, and still two days left here. 

We had our second dinner, and I attempted to sing. I did... so poorly that it will be a blight on my memory till the day I die. I was just part of the chorus, so it shouldn't have been so bad, but I tried to adjust mid-song and somehow was even more off tune. So much for being named for a songbird. My face flames to think about it. Fjalenar and Herek did quite well, though. (of course a poet would have a nice voice. I don't know why it surprised me. Of course he can sing...)

And now I must sleep. I mean to sleep well tonight because starting tomorrow we must begin our own watches. It must be soon now. 

--

A few postscripts out of order:

I have a Treian sword now. Lady Vianrei gave one to Fjalenar and one to me. It is lovely, one handed, and has a bronze blade. Not magical, but very well made. 

Father Rinsos tells us that Inayin's eyes are windows that someone is looking through. I believe it is the Eldress Falaru. He thinks he can heal Inayin when the gate to the Jade Bridge opens.

Eldress Falaru worships the Vulture as do the other two elders, she hired Thargash. They have been working their schemes for many years now.  This explains a good deal. 

I do think we will make our last stand at the Jade bridge. I feel lighter every moment we get closer. Imagine. I thought I'd pick up this fight from my fathers who have guarded the border from the nalshbori for a thousand years. Instead, I am the one who will fight them in the very beginning, and it will be the blood and great deeds of his own daughter (stars give me strength!) that calls my ancestor Neryaleth to take up his sword. I am eager to have and end of talking. It's time for action. 

I do hope to at least get Inayin away from here. I am concerned that his sickness will cause him to also be turned into a son of darkness --against his will. That would be unimaginably horrible.

Should I live, I mean to begin the cleansing of Cheykor immediately. Perhaps politics are not so complicated. Suffer not a vulture cultist to live. That is simple enough.