Guile Entry #11: Who Wrote The Book of Love?
Entry #11
I am embarrassed with what little I have written over the past few weeks. Even in the midst of two great successes, the assurance of Nilsa’s safety and the defeat of Jasper, my entries have been reduced to scattered thoughts of little importance ever since Antonio kissed me.
His hold over my heart is greater than I feared. One moment I’m grateful that he doesn’t love me, the next his love occupies my every waking moment. I left The Bloodbound to seek out my own fate, and yet I am like a marionette whose strings have simply been handed off to another...
Then again, are we not all slaves to someone? In this world steered by the opinions of kings, the favor of Gods, and the whispers of demons, is anyone truly their own? The only true freedom in this world is choosing who we belong to, so let me be Antonio’s!
Even if I am a passing fancy, fit to be discarded when he comes upon another far more worthy, let him turn me into a hero of me the same way The Bloodbound forged me into a warrior. Come, heartbreak, for I am unafraid. I know now that even with Blight in my side, and an oncoming day where I will no longer have my magic, I am worthy of being loved.
Not to say that, at this moment, Antonio doesn’t need the love and allegiance of as many as possible. It has come to light that his kingdom has fallen to gnolls, who my family now engages in fierce battle. Even one as important and indispensable as Elsmirada, proved to be the very warrior who rescued Antonio’s sister from the jaws of death, proving the strings of our fates prove to be further intertwined.
But Elsmirada is not the only name that proves the nearness of Maria’s influence, for I have encountered The Holy Mother’s very image bearer. She approached me as a friend, and regarded me– a defector of demon blood– like an equal.
Ah, Matroshka, you daughter of noble blood! She is radiant as the moon, unblemished and poised, brimming with power! Truly, there is no better image bearer. No wonder Graz’zt fell so hard at your feet! There is no doubt that Matroshka too will conquer whatever she lays her gaze upon, just as she has already conquered Laskun.
Ever since I encountered her, I’ve found my attempted prayers to other deities– Waukeen, Gwynharwyf, and even Bahamut – retreating back into my old childhood oaths to Maria. May they forgive me. May they understand that I may never completely untangle the ancient mother from my heart...
My mind refuses to relinquish this idea of introducing Matroshka into my rescue plan for The Forest of Wyrms. I think long and hard of unveiling Blight to her, bearing my heart completely in a show of Faith. After all, could not the solution for me also be a solution for Maria's entire bloodline? Eradicate not just Blight, but the soul-destroying bane of blood frenzy?
Already my ambitions venture too close to the realm of impossibility. The history of heroes has always been one of facing impossible odds, but alas, the tales of unsuccessful heroes never reach the verses of bards.
In either case I keep too much inside my heart, where there is no one to hear out my dreams and passions except my accursed brother. I should not carry out a single one of my crazed ideas without Antonio’s aid, for his faith in me speaks a thousand words, and his power of eros may prove resourceful.
For that matter, I am a fool for not telling Pellanistra– now Switch– of Matroshka’s hand in the fate of Laskun, knowing his ties with Jarlaxle. It is no secret to keep from someone who has been so good of a friend to me.
Good lords, I am forgetting everything! I feel like I am going mad. It is of no wonder that Maria and Graz’zt wield love as their weapon of choice, for there is no sweeter poison.
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