We were whisked away beyond the shores...beyond the stars, even..we were threatened with an eternity there, but we were spared that..

Riddles answered, and more threats against lives....riddles left unanswered, questions mounting...answers to be found in the heart, but never to be confirmed...

That figure..

He brought back the dead...brought back the exiled...Alterio, I know. Back on the isle..the one named Paul, of whom I've heard from others. They lamented his death, and I for them, for I never knew the man..and yet, can I even speak of him, or the others whom I don't even know the names of in past tense?

How....confusing–though that hardly describes it..

This is the type of events we Bards write songs for...the type we record for the future generations..though, with Elves, 'future generations' is a term best interpreted loosely..

I think I'll get started on all that...others, at least–their grandchildren, and their grandchildren's children may wish to hear about it...and the words of an eyewitness, when coupled with the voice of a Bard can bear much weight..

*signs fluidly*
Sylverleaf, Journal Entry, 29 December.

: A late breakfast served to him in his suite, he finishes and rises. Wearing his beloved sharkskin trunks, and going to go for a swim in the warm waters as soon as he digests his food. Sir Paul pays him a visit..Paul who looks at the trunks and can't help but chuckle. "Things don't change, do they?" Paul chides jokingly. Alterio grins, but then sits to confer with Paul awhile. Both men now back where they never dreamed, under similar circumstances. The maid knocks and brings coffee, then complains about Alterio's father causing a ruckus about ripped pants. The men roll their eyes simultaneously, both knowing the older man's gruff nature. Paul knowing from being hired so many years ago to look out for Alterio, and Alterio knowing all too well from life's experience. "Ye'd think having a young new bride would cheer him up." Paul cringes..Paul knows. Alterio didn't.

"New wife? Who married the old man?"

The maid's jaw drops..she wasn't aware that Alterio didn't know. So he tells him. Paul looks at Alterio, the silence heavy.
And Alterio turns away. Shoulders shaking, body shaking. Without sound.
"It's alright, Alterio. Things happen for a reason." Paul consoles.

Alterio turns back, wiping tears. Of laughter. The chuckle turns into a hearty laugh..and he asks Paul to take the maid out, he must get this down in his journal whilst it's still fresh::

~~~

Vixen is now my father's wife. This is a cosmic joke..and either I'm the only one who'll understand it, or I'm the butt of it.

My pet..::chuckles again:: Now Lady Carazzi. My..stepmother?! Mia and Alkane's GRANDMOTHER?! Now ho there..My children are now my..stepsiblings? This is bizarre. I don't want to even continue untangling the twisting of the family tree on this one..

But when I think of it, he can offer her what I can't.. or wouldn't. She is now married, a proper woman. He'll have someone to look after him. He's mellowed, he has less obligations now than he did in his younger years, or that I do currently. He's got the time to devote to her. Granted, he'll likely try to squish her into conforming her to his ideals and standards of a wife, but do you know what?

Wouldn't I have done the same?

Granted she will protest. She protests everything, whether it be in her very best interests, she protests. But perhaps my father can tame her, look after her. This could work for them. Why shouldn't I be happy for them?

Fine. I am jealous to a certain degree. But with all things considered, she avenging the wrongs that happened to me; he seeing that I was awakened and recovered in Achethe, and the fact that I do indeed want both to be content in their lives.. I will swallow the jealousy.

But..
I will NOT call her "Mother."

Journal Entry, 30 December, Sir Knight Carazzi.

: He leaves the book open and goes for the swim he now needs. Paul watches from shore, dressed rather casually. Both men still not feeling 'just right'..but a hell of a lot better than they did just two days ago :

They say one should consider their second chance at life. I obviously don’t. They see it as unfair. That is not my problem.

This lad named Rei tested be last eve. He ended up bowing and apologizing to me. Eyas, his brother, wanted to somehow to justify my actions or rather stand at his brother’s side. Another lad was there, who gave me such dirty look (Morte), he will soon meet his faith..wait..I told Khalidan I would cease for this time only.

But they give me such looks that are so inviting. It’s not very nice to give a look at one who had murdered mothers with their infants while their fathers tied in the family’s chair watch three yuletides ago. Those who remember saw that I was arrested by his holiness dressed in white without a shirt.

Their codes of honor I laugh at.

Journal Entry, 30 December, Nemesio Canales

Entry 102

The wounds still continue to bother me, even as I write now. I am beginning to wonder how serious my injuries may really be…for now I easily get seasick. Nevertheless, now is not the time to relieve myself of my duties.

The other day, I ran into a strange, yet somehow familiar, woman named Azil. Although she claims that she and I have never met before in person, something in my mind doubts so. Maybe it’s just my sickness…or maybe we did once meet before…

Eyas still has difficulty walking, but at least he isn’t stuck in bed. After observing the effects of iron poisoning on him, I am more glad than ever that I am human.

As for my crew, they are relatively peaceful for the time being. I’ve given them all a 7 day break, seeing as how they’ve needed one ever since we docked here. That just leaves me to tend to the ship.

Vincent, my second mate and boatswain, is the only one who is willing to help me maintain the ship, even though I’ve offered him the 7 day break. He must really admire his captain, and seems to enjoy life as a pirate. There aren’t many who do.

Although my crew members are enjoying themselves, I’m facing more problems. Last night, I confronted a dark-hearted elven knight known as Nemesio Canales. He almost killed Attrei over a matter which I cannot clearly remember…all I know for sure is that it had something to do with Lady Chastity. Eyas and I tried to interfere, but Vixen and Chas held us back. I would have fought for Attrei, but Nemesio is in a much better condition than I am, and I am in no position to fight him until I fully recover…and yes, he will suffer at my hands, sooner or later.

Well, I think I should rest for a while now…maybe that’s what I need if I want to recover soon.

Captain's Log, 30 December, Morte Geist.

Hestia brings such tidings...such tidings indeed. What is to be thought of all of this? All I can think of is my son, my family. What else have I to think of? Myself? My business? What difference does it make? None. It often crosses my mind that maybe this isn't the best place to raise my child. What happiness can he find here when no one else has found any? All I want for him is a good life. A better life than I've had thus far. Why? Because he deserves it, that's why. But I can't go. Not now that Paul's here. Yet if I remain, forever with Alterio's presence clouding the horizon... No, I have little ill will toward him, but gods, every step I take he's there somehow, and some days I just long to be done with it all.

Hestia's tidings, words of me have been spoken. I no longer care what they've to say. It's funny, isn't it? How after everything I actually once bothered to be angry, to care what they thought of me, even to care for the lot that exists here. But I know what I am, and those that matter to me know what I am, and may all else be gone. Do I feel sorry for myself? Once. That was wrong of me. It was also wrong of me to think that I could help, that I could change anything on this island, or the nature of those that inhabit it, those that dictate what is and what isn't, regardless of the truth.

Truth. Truth is whatever they want us to believe. Well, I don't. But then, that's cause for condemnation, which I won't deal with. No more arguing, no more fighting. Just quiet. Quiet is what I need right now, at whatever cost. I'm already paying, not that I mind. Such payment makes me strong, strong for my son, who needs me now. But if somehow, it all begins to darken my doorstep... Well, we'll see.

Aunt Amy ails worse. She won't let me do anything for her. She wants to go. I can't begrudge her her passing. I'll let her go, fine. But I'll miss her. I've grown rather fond of her. I give her another day or two. I should see to her arrangements for passing. I suppose they'll all go then, Nathaniel, Carlin, Kienen, hopefully even Ashling...but not Hestia. No, she wants to stay here with me, at least for a time. Says she's at a bit of an impass, but she'd rather remain at my side then dart back home to marry some Lord. I can't blame her. Uncle Kienen's been warm to me of late, but only because he thinks I'll listen to his not-so-subtle urges to get married. Marriage? Marriage would only be a hinderance, a drain. A plague. I shall never marry if my road continues as it is. Not here. Call me cynical...no. This is realism.

Journal Entry, 31 December, Jane Maichen