Osanna sits with her back up against the large shrine to Sarenrae inside of Magnimar’s church prior the arrival of her companions to teleport them to the ominous Ring of Seven Stones in the far northern reaches of Varisia. She takes a moment clear her head before producing her journal, pulling her knees into her chest, and laying the book upon them to write.
The last three weeks have been largely restful and joyous. Life here in the Underbridge district has been going on quite unabated since Her church was erected, and I can see subtle shifts in the people that live here. There’s more foot traffic. More shopkeepers opening their doors and barking to the passersby in order to sell their wares. The streets are looking cleaner. People are beginning to tidy up and take more pride in the areas around their homes and businesses. Children are playing in the streets. Tempers are flaring less. Smiles are more abundant. I know that there are many factors playing in to these shifts, to include reduced Sczarni activity after taking the head off of that snake that was harassing Glenn, but I’m grateful for them all the same.
3 weeks ago the lot of us celebrated Glenn’s transformation and the end of a very dark chapter in our story. It was the first time that I can say that we were all able to truly relax and enjoy each other’s company. For years I’ve been concerned about what effects alcohol would have on my…personality…and I made the choice to take a risk. It was the most fun that I’ve ever had. We laughed, danced, joked, and pranked. It was truly some of the worst dancing that I’ve ever seen, and as pretty as I’ve ever seen Samael. I’m sure that I’ll catch hell for the braids, but it was worth it. Everything was.
I spoke to Samael about, well, him. It went as well as I expected it to. It hit me some time ago that that mask that he wears has more than one purpose. It is a symbol of his order and station, true, but it also serves to cover up the man that he truly is. I’m on to him now. Prior conversations we’ve had, his comments to me, and the way he genuinely cares for the orphans clearly indicates that there is a benevolent soul underneath all of that black armor and the pentagram, and I sense that there is at least some part of him that yearns to be the man that he wants to be versus the man that others have made him be. He’s as stubborn as they get, but every goal worth achieving is worth working for. I will continue to try to add sunshine and water to his heart to see if it will grow from the two-sizes-too-small that is has been since he was a boy.
For twenty days I was happy and I knew joy. Today, the twenty first day was horrid. As I was sharing morning prayers with Her faithful, Bill destroyed the serene scene in a fit of selfish rage. The large Billtroll pinned me to the ground, threatened me, and frightened every other living soul in the church before egressing. He did this to me even after offering me a colored stone during Crystalhue as a peace offering! Praise Sarenrae for granting me with a sense of serenity at that moment, for the people needed to know that there was no imminent danger and that all was well. Sarenrae and Glenn may have been the only 2 forces in the world that would have been able to keep my anger in check after such an outrageous assault on my person and the sanctity of Her house. Thank you Mother for your guidance and for my dear friend.
I almost lost it. Almost. I’ve lived with my anger all of my life and it has never come so close to the surface as it did this morning. I saw the looks on their faces when they came to get me. I know what they saw, for I’ve seen her in the mirror many times over the years. There’s a part of me that’s glad that they did, for now they can fully appreciate the at times colossal efforts that I take to keep my demonic lineage from getting the better of me. I was truly prepared to cut Bill to shreds a pair of hours ago, and the only thing that saved him from that fate was a son’s love for his father….and the fact that my sister is in league with Mr. Voon. The situation is volatile at best. My sister is not in full possession of her faculties and her mind has truly been twisted by my sick mother’s machinations. As for Mr. Voon, there is no excuse for him whatsoever. He’s a weak-minded fool that allowed himself to be manipulated in order to satisfy his own murderous desires. He’s shown his true colors, as has his son. They’re both, at best, two-faced and foolish. I don’t know if anything can ever be right between the two of us after this. I fear that I have finally reached the limits of my patience and mercy.
Ah. And there they are, the backstabber included. Off we go again into dangers of unknown magnitude without the fortitude offered by mutual trust. I don’t know what will happen in that place. We may all be changed when we make it back. If we make it back.