Still awake. I was never one to let the witching hour pass me by.
Spent a long time reading this evening, was accosted by a certain purple fuzzball, and then ventured out onto the balcony closest to the ocean to watch the moon for a while.
I've done little for the past few days, since I returned here. It's been restful, almost pleasant even, after spending so many months in constant travel. Even I get tired eventually, shocking as that might sound to some people who are apparently convinced I never sleep (not that I would want to disabuse them of that notion).
But if I am completely truthful with myself... Well, I wouldn't be dawdling around and wasting my time if there were some better way to spend it. I just don't know if there is anymore. It's been a year. I've gone over all the same leads, or rather the lack thereof, a thousand times.
I don't know... I don't know if there's really any point in searching anymore.
I still believe she's alive. No, I know she's alive. Until the day I hear the Black Wind blowing for her I will never accept otherwise. But wherever she is now, I am beginning to believe she's far beyond my reach.
What this means for me, I don't know. I hardly know what to do with myself anymore.
I suppose if I was terribly bored I could stage a coup on the Mystics again, lure a second army to my side, and make war. I'm sure somewhere in whatever little rat holes they're hiding in, those three would be entertained. Maybe they'd return and fight me for the title of leader, who knows. Maybe I would take over Guardia Castle. Assassinate the King. Now that I've been there as an actual guest, I know all the best ways to slip in and out without being noticed.
Most of these ideas would've brought a chuckle to Ozzie's bloated lips and perhaps a grin to my own, back when. The idea of it all just wearies me now. I am even moderately glad our conquest attempts were cut short, because when I first agreed to help them fight their war
as if I had a choice I certainly hadn't the faintest idea what a large, messy pile of shit I was stepping into.
If I could just have a battlefield, just one, without generals or bureaucrats or strings, or little children crying for their parents, or women crying for their husbands, or any of it--just pare it down to the dance of blade and magic, shouting and sword crashes and blood flying all around, a beautiful bit of chaos to conquer under my will... Perhaps that would be something like happiness.
If we were to meet again, I think she would find me a monster.