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February 22nd, 1003 M.R.

February 22nd, 1003.


If there were only some people who knew. How many people actually

know? I would give my wings if it would bring the Munuko back. But those

ones are not coming back. Zeek gave the order. He could have done

otherwise. But he saw no other way, I guess... and so in saving my life,

Zeek has condenmed me to die.
I know the Red Mage seeks my life, as do others. Ones who I call

friends, I am hesitant to do so now, for in their eyes... there is something

not quite right about their eyes.
Even if I could go back to what I was; a naieve, happy, bouncy

InsectaFae, where would I go? People still want their revenge. Promises

are never kept, anyway. People say they will do something and then find the

loophole to get out of it, to accomplish their own goals instead. They only

see the wrong I have caused them.
If I had to do it over again, maybe I would change things. I would

not have called on the Kal kre Bain, because I know they are evil now, even

it meant that Zula would have been raised... but then, if he was, he would

have been Tabatha's thrall. A thrall with the Orb of Power under his belt.

He would have handed it over without a second thought, and then Tabatha

would have been unstoppable.
If I could do it again, I would not call on the Kal kre Bain. I

would have stopped Bebbhin and Liselle some other way. Some other way...
Gryffin is indifferent to me. Zula is all buisness. Zeek is a

rock. People have sworn to protect me, but how long before words of others

undo all the friendships I thought I had made? All it takes it the words of

the Red Mage, or that of... the beautiful Lady. The one who gave me a token

that I wear at all times. She said it was to symbolize friendship. And yet

I am afraid. She is close to the Red Mage and to the old Ka; and my mistake

took away Munuko-Ka. I did what I could, unlearned my magics, swore an Oath

not to enter a certain land... what more can I do?
Why can I not be forgiven? Is this the ugly underside of the

Realms? Is everyone a zealot of their own goals and beliefs? Must I die

for my mistake? Have not greater ones been done throughout history, and yet

the people who committed the mistake got off with a slap on the face?
It seems unbelivebly trying that I am held to a different standard

than others. It hurts to know that the only way to stay alive in the Realms

is to have a good group of popular people take you in, show you the ropes.

One mistake, and even they leave you in the dust, to the scum of the earth

you fall and are treated as such.
I know I will die as I am someday soon. I am only an InsectaFae,

but underneath it all I know I am more than that now. So much has happened.

I wish that I could cry all of this away. I wish that I could fall upon a

Wayland Blade and never be reborn, but that is the coward's way out. King

Oberon would not have such attitudes. He would face his attackers head on,

and challenge them.
I do not have the strength nor courage to face my attackers now. Is

it wrong to rely on the help of Oaths? To hide behind the men that made

promises to me? A few grumbled so loud that I heard it from heaven:

'Bouquet is just hiding behind Folkestone and Chimeron. We just have to

drum up some better PR than what she has'.
I know not what 'PR' is, or how I have acquired it. But how

dejected was I to hear myself described as such. It is wrong to hide? I

cannot hide from the gods, but it is appropriate to try and hide myself from

my fellows? Are they even my fellows? Who are my allies that will stay by

me, and who are the ones who will give me up to death in my Dreams? Who is

my family, and who will leave me in the cold of the Void? Who is my love,

and who will send my soul to Oblivion, never to return? Will I ever know

what love really is? Will I get a chance to live out my last four years, to

be cycled again into some thing, someone else? Why do they clamour for my

death under curtains and stone? What sacrifice will right the wrong I have

done the Kal? And why have not the Kal approached me on this? Why must I

be intimidated by physical beings who are stronger, faster, and self-

appointed most of the time? I saw Munuko-Ma, I could not send her to her

death. She died within Chaos Nature, and how I grieved. I grieved for days

while working on experiments to fix the wrong I had done. I wish to answer

to the Kal, not the Old and the New Kathrani. I want to answer to them, not

to the intimidations of Red Mage and of his friends. His friends who are my

friends -- they are more his friends, for he has sacrificed much and spent

his life alongside them. If it had been me in that ball...
"It is not easy to live among these people, and being a hero is a

thankless job." - The Champion of Fae, Lucas Harkon told me that before he

went missing. But I do not wish to be a hero, but I do want to live in

peace. I wake almost every night in sweat or cold shakes, a dream of a

familar face slaying me with a Blade of Words, cutting me into little pieces

and rendering my Soul asunder to Oblivion. I do not want it to happen. But

oh, how I tire of hiding! How I long for grass and trees and a warm

covering, as when I slept in Fae many moons ago... so many. People hate

Fae, you know. I hate UnDead. I guess it is a fair trade, or not... it

does not make any sense.
Everyone will sleep about as sound as they can tonight, while I must

stay awake and figure out what to do next. I am so worried and disturbed

about dying... in their eyes, they were satisfied. They were satisfied, and

they did not bring me back. O my soul, let me go if that happens. For I

could not be brought back to life knowing that I was all alone. Being alone

and rejected is worse than death, for it is a life of forced solitude and

forgetfulness.
Forget me not, Fae. Kill me not, Realms. I shall make up for what

I have done. I don't know how, but I will make up for the mistakes I have

done, I have created within you. I will protect you, homelands, I swear it.

I'll defend it, even unto a final death.
...though I really hope it doesn't come to that.
- Bouquet D'Amandes, Unseelie Peon
Tags: Personal Account
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 01-27-15 07:35 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 01-27-15 07:35 PM