Ziltopia's War Journal
The days of the past several months combine into a misty fog within my mind. I had been doing the deeds of the Clan as determined by those who command Tarentum; Oberst, Spears, Bloodfyre, the Tarentae. Am I to be punished for an ineffectual mission? The thing which I long for, to be adopted into the Clan, to become a part of the legends and myths...to find home once more. But why do I feel lost again? Kaiann, that bastard, between the two of them, the twisted lovers, my home was Satal Keto, that is where I belonged. They destroyed it after using everyone and everything up. Pawns, pawns in there scheming. Kaiann and Arania. I should have killed them, but I was too young. Put into a postion of power before I was ready. Intentional, it was premeditated. Going from Knight to Priest in order to be Consul, much, much before my time. Then taking it away before having a chance to prove myself. Taking credit for my work, telling Firefox that it was all of their ideas; stealing, scheming ... I trusted them. The schism, losing my master...losing my mind. Troutrooper was gone. I was lost. I left. I came back; drawn in from the rogue existence, into the Clan by old friendships; Darkfire, Oberst, Bloodfyre. Now the Force is setting right the balance. Troutrooper came back to the true Brotherhood from the spurious EH monstrosity. The pieces are falling into place, things are righting themselves. The Force works mysteriously to its own purposes. Kaiann's soul will be mine for the ages.
Masters Spears, Bloodfyre, and Oberst need to continue my education in the Path of the Watchers. I must manipulate Kaiann's soul and make him suffer throughout his noncorporeal existence. I will torment him for the ages, death will not consume me, I must master the Force and live on, even though it is not our way, it is my duty.
I must oblige myself to complete the training; my mastery over the fifth level is essential. I must be able to Compel the Shade on my own. My former Clansmen, how negligent of you to leave behind so much when you abandoned Clan Satal Keto.
Perhaps it was not to my best interest to get on the bad side of Master Oberst. The Tarentae do not understand my rage, my passion, my lust ... I am being consumed, I am losing control.
I have had it always; I carry it with me; the fetter that will call him to me ... he never thought that he would regret the small articles left behind ... abondoned the Clan ... Satal Keto ... our home left to rot and whither away ... it will call them both, if they truly are separate entities, tied together in lust and hadred over all these many years; were they ever really, truly more than one mechanism of destruction and despair? I have kept it with me to remind me of the betrayal ... I must never forget, never forget ... it is my duty ... my last duty ... never forget ... my last duty for Satal Keto ... my last duty for the dead and forgotten ... never forget.
Whenever he looks at me I can never decide if he sees my gender as ambiguous or enigmatic. Why is the fact that I am female so perplexing to some? Zwhelersians are very much like humans in body shape and tone; we are a bit more lithe and have different eye and hair colorations and configurations, but seriously, I am a woman. My nickname, Ziltopia, does mean unspoken lust in my native tongue. Am I drawn to his manhood or the power of his station? Can hearts that are blackened with distrust and lust for ascendancy truly love?
My mind is splintering ... I go from moments of lucidity to periods of time that pass without my knowing. There are things I have done that I do not recall ... why am I losing control? Rage should be harnessed, focused ... why do I have no governance of myself?! Who can I trust to assist me ... can those who exploit the darkness and the dead truly be dependable and noble? I trusted before and almost to my own ruin ... whom do I choose to serve. Am I still lost in the mire of Satal Keto or do I pursue the sanguineness of Tarentum?
The darkness is swallowing me ... down, down, down ... I must regain control!