:::::: ..... he stands there upon the porch of her small cottage. He watches her as she approaches. His heart races as she grows more and more near. The moonlight bathes her in it's silvery embrace. He steps down of the porch so that she may see he awits her. He does not wish her to be startled as she approaches. He looks at her face, trying to make out it out in the darkness. Surely she has seen him now. Then... she stops. A soft curse is heard from her lips as it is carried over the cool night winds to his ears.

Quckly she spins on her heel and begins moving down the path in the opposite direction. That is it. He has his answer. Surely she saw him waiting as she looked ahead. She does not want to speak to him. At that exact moment his heart becomes a viod. A dark limbo where no more emotion can exist. Had he even a small glimmer of her light to hold onto he may have been spared this terrible pain. There is no light. She simply turned from him. His legs give out and he collapses right there on her step. As he does his bokks fall out of his satchel. His large tome of poetry... all about her. And his journal. He looks at the journal and shrugs. "Why not?" He picks it up and begins to write as tears roll down his cheeks beneath his mask. ::::::

I'm yelling yet no one seems to listen. And I'm calling out, to those who pretend not to hear. "Can anyone help me?" I ask. No one turns, and no one helps. They just continue on their path. Is this the way? Am I correct in my quest? Should I turn back now? Or press onward into the unknown? Many a time before I would have turned. Yet, though I am not close to my goal I refuse to turn. I refuse to shut my eyes again. It has happened once to often. I pretended not to hear, pretended not to care. Yet I do... I do more then they would ever know. I shut them out and take the pain inside into my heart, and leave it never to return... The pain is a wretched and foul thing. One of my own making. Something I refused to let out. Something that I allowed to take me over. And as I sit here and watch the people go by I wonder... Should I have turned? Should I have told? I am close now. Close to shutting them out. Yet as I shut them out, I do equally to the world around me. So I sit and I'm yelling. Yelling for help to a deaf ear. And then the pain comes again, unbidden and shuts them out fully... And again, I am alone...

:::::: He stops fora moment and looks up to the sky. The stars. The moon. The things he once found so comforting he now wishes were simpy gone so that he could exist in total darkness. He thinks once more of that first day her saw her. Somehow he just knew that someday she would return his love. He was wrong. She turned away from him without a single word. He cannot blame her. Who is he? He is nothing. He has nothing to offer his woman. His heart. He offered her his heart. She threw it on the ground and kicked it back at his feet. He leaves it there. It is not worth picking up. It was not good enough for the one person he would give it to. He decides he will never need it again after tonight. He writes... ::::::

What is it I fear? Do I fear anything at all? I know I am walking. Yet, I have not moved forward. I try to let them in. But I am alone again. Locked in chains of my own making. The shackles are tight about my ankles. They restrict me. They constrict me. They won't allow me to breath. When I finally think I have conquered them another moutain rises in the last's place. And it pushs me, tells me to go forward, when it knows I cannot. So I ask for help. I tell them that I want them in my life. Yet they lie to me. And the lies close the walls tighter around me. So I am alone once again. But was I ever not to begin with? I question myself. Yet, should I be questioning others? So I recede. Back... back into my cell. The darkness takes me as a whole and engulfs me into a tangled web of deceit. And when I finally find comfort in the spider's arms they bring me to my death. And so I take leave of this wretched world and I leave like I lived... Alone.

:::::: He slowly stands and turns around to look once more at her quaint cottage and his eyes fall to his book of poetry. Every poem he has written since coming to this island... every one about... Rowsy. He leans over to pick it up then stops himself and thinks. He will no longer be needing that either. A short time later he walks back into his small room where he has been staying since his arrival. He does not even bother to light a single candle or lamp. He sits on the edge of hisbed staring up at the moon. His eyes look past it now though to the darkness beyond. The cold yet inviting darkness that he so longs for now. He whispers softly the words he had so recently heard from her own lips... only his have a different meaning altogether... ::::::

"Take me... please take me now into your icey embrace." :::::: As the cool night winds blow across the porch of Rowsy's small cottage the rustling of paper can be heard. As the soft light of the moon shines down upon it three items can be seen... a large book, a book containing all his thoughts and hopes and dreams of his love for Rowsy... a note, hastily scribbled on a small piece of parchment and placed upon the book which reads... ::::::

Rowsy, I am sorry. Not for loving you. I would never apologize for that. But for loving you in a way that you felt could not be returned. It was my fault. I had not the courage to confront my feelings and in not doing so I drove you away from what might have been between us. Goodbye Rowsy~Sinclair. I truly hope you find the happiness someday that I was not able to provide.

Lord of Masks.... Camden.

:::::: And the final item... the one placed on top of the note to hold it in place against the wind... A black silken mask covering a faceplate of silver with silver inlayed designs running across it's surface. His mask. His shield. His pain. His darkness... no more. ::::::

--Journal entry 27 August, Lord of Masks

*smiles as she stops at her cabin, removing her journal and sits to write before returning to the mainland*

My short visit to the Isle has done me a world of good, I only regret that I narrowly missed my Uncle. I have heard of Taelie's return to the mainland by Az...I know he will return eventually. It was so good to see Tiggy, Lina and Janey again.

Now I can return to the mainland to finish my business there, and be content having seen at least some of my friends. I do greatly miss everyone. I wish I had seen Mags and Dan and Jasmin..as well as Vixxy, Mia, Lia, and Alkane.

I will see them all again soon, Im sure. Well...my ship leaves soon, so I must gather what clothes and such I left, and return to the mainland. To the place of my misery, and loathe. But, it holds me through, knowing I still have a home here where people care for me...I wish them all well.

--Journal entry 27 August, Lyrias

Early evening finds me sitting restless in my room. I've not slept well in over 2 fortnights, perhaps a third. Indeed, I've lost track of how long these nightmares of death and tragedy in my home have plagued me. Would that I had an assured means of sending parcel or notice back home, so that I might inquire of the health and well being of those I love. Perhaps it is just my homesickness, and, perhaps, the impeding guilt that I know I will feel when the time comes for me to leave Jasmin.

Darkness abounds during my evenings. Darionus, lost and thought dead, was discovered hiding by a waterfall that Zyllah had kept much to herself, living almost as a wild man. I fear he's lost his memory, which can be considered by some to be a fate worse than death. He's no people, no family, no home, and now his very life has been stripped from him, leaving him an empty husk of an ashen-skinned elf. It is my hope for him that he can make a recovery, relearn some of what he has lost, and make something of himself despite his tragedy. My heart truly goes out to him.

Another elven friend of mine *is* dead. Maeji Qko has slain him, a be-heading as I have heard it. As I understand the story, Sethin came to the defense of Nestasia, the fairy, who had attracted the murderer's killing ways, bringing the young girl Saria out of Maeji's sights. One should never threaten a child in such a matter and not receive punishment, but Maeji, so far, has only added to her tab of evil. I mean to find away to bring justice down on her. I have seen her skill, and I have seen her weapon, however, and I fear that I may indeed meet more than my match with her. Nonetheless, I will find a way.

As I understand it, Sethin's brother is about. I mean to conference with him on the matter. Perhaps we can pool our might and resources to bring to Maeji what she rightly deserves.

On the brighter side of my life, Jasmin still holds quite a bright torch for me, and I feel that my heart does still burn just as hot for her. I try not to think of the day when I will have to set sail back to home Ardikan, for I fear that her owner will not let her travel with me. What's more, I suspect she will not thrive very well, with her beliefs and ways of living, in our land. The differences are almost too great for me to overcome, I fear what they might do to her. I tell myself that it will be better to love while it can be, and relish in the experience while it lasts, but I cannot help but think that I will be sorely heartbroken. Worse, I fear she will be as well, although I hope she is will be strong enough to move on quickly.

Also, I've added yet another friend at The Pleasuredome this week. Ezmeralda seems to have a spirit of the likes I've not seen before. She's like a stone with a heart of fire, one moment hard and cold, the next warm and caring. I've not figured her out yet, but she seems to be getting along with Jasmin, now that Jasmin is no longer jealous of the way Ezmeralda treats, or perhaps MIS-treats, me. Perhaps I might sleep out of pure exhaustion tonight. One can only pray.

-FDB-

--Journal entry 27 August, Fierjen Dancing-Bear

-Landing kneeled from leaping through a window into her tree house hideout she removes her journal and reaches blindly for a quill at her coffee table-

Memo: Make Blood Contract. [Tuesday, August 28, 2001]

The plot thickens, the people seem to chase, yet I completely covered my tail from being judged as guilty. There are no traces, and any so-called evidence wouldn't intimidate me.

Seems Bear has many friends, that is nice… I love it when enemies have so many loves ones. They become weaker and easier targets. People are expecting me to kill this Stacey by now. Perhaps I should let things calm down in order to concentrate on the bigger plot. Besides, I never wanted that melodramatic bitch; she was just a bonus.

Time to move on, yes. The Black Pearl shouldn't focus on such. However, this Bear seems to interest me…perhaps Jane was right, there is excitement at the villages.

Qko of the Maeji People

-She tosses the journal over her shoulder. It lands on the wooden floor when the journal glows for a split second with a green aura and fades back to normal-

--Journal entry 27 August, Maeji-Qko