Xander’s Journal lies on the table in the Library, next to it is a scroll and a pouch with several thousand coins worth of gems, including a very large diamond. Leaning against the pouch is a note, with Bill, Osanna, Samael, Naru, and Glenn’s names across the top. “To whichever of you finds this, please read it carefully. I had to take a journey to address some personal questions, but I hope to be done soon. Once again I must ask a favor of one of you. In case it is Glenn reading this, there should be enough in the bag to get someone to use that scroll, if the others aren’t available. I don’t know if I will be seeing you once it is cast, since that is the whole point of this trip. Either way, I want you all to know that it was a pleasure getting to know you, and travelling with you. In case I don’t come back from this, I will always call you friends. I will remain in the small chamber off the entry corridor. That should be more than sufficient.”
This is it.
I should be happy, relieved, or something. I know I should, but I can’t help but feel kind of lost.
Mother is cured, Father is physically alive again, and Varisia is safe from Karzoug, at least. From what I hear, they are going to Kyonin, where Father will notify his family that he is alive, then move somewhere to start over. After all these years, the love is still there.
I’ve spent the last several months in the Library, trying to get the Librarian to assist me with taking the actual dangerous books here and separating them from the inane. Like Zutha’s journal. That never needs to have eyes set on it again, by anyone. I think I might have gotten through to the thing, now that I have changed my argument from “Dangerous” to a more codified “Potency Level” system of sorting.
We did it, all of us lived through it, sort of. I died. With all the trials and tribulations we went through, for months and months, that actually shocked me.
I mean, I know enough about magic, arcane and divine, to understand that we have the power to cheat death. Osanna and Glenn died, and we brought them back. Hathus died, and he didn’t want to come back.
When I died, though, I didn’t get a choice. I was dead, I was in the Boneyard, and the next thing I know I was laying on the ground with Samael looking at me.
I think about that a lot actually. It’s like I was robbed of something important. I never got a chance to decide to go or stay. I don’t know what I would have picked, and that bothers me. Mother and Father are alive and healthy, but I know Osanna and Bill would have taken care of that either way, they gave me their words weeks ago.
The things I have done in the Library are more a way of killing time and busy-work than anything meaningful.
Everything I have done since coming back is… nothing really. I started out with these grand plans, but when it comes down to it, I had no reference point for actually deciding what to do after something like this. Now, I don’t even know if I should be doing anything.
Desna… I believe she guided my steps, rambling and erratic as they were, to this path. But, even knowing that, I don’t know where I stand now. I’m here, but I don’t know if I should be. Actually, I wish I’d had more time in the Boneyard. Some time to think about things, to reflect.
I’m trying to listen for her, trying to understand the next steps, but I don’t hear anything. I can’t make it out anymore.
I have to know. And there’s really only one way to do that, really. I just don’t see any way around it.
I won’t know for sure until I stand there, in the Boneyard again, what my answer really is.