All I can seem to think on is misery as of late, this collar keeping me in this state. This collar will take some adjusting to; some considerable adjusting to. I think part of the magics in this collar keep my moods more consistent, at least, that’s what I hope it is. If it keeps me in this state of misery that certainly wouldn’t bode well for me. I can’t enjoy the breeze, the wood beneath my feet provides no satisfying texture, the sea holds no beauty. I simply sit here and sulk.
It is so very unlike me.
Suldren seems to be under the impression that he knows everything and that vexes me. I had invited him to talk over a game of chess so I could fully explain myself, not being exactly fully allowed with the debacle that had happened. Well, in wonderful tradition Suldren seemed to miss the point yet again, this time departing like a child in a full tantrum. I had warned him to leave his anger at the door, so I can’t help but wonder what did he expect? Does he expect me to coo in his ear? Pat his back when he spits up and then dab his lip? I wished to fully explain myself and the ways of the fey so that he could be more informed. He is certainly an inspiring leader and means well when his temper isn’t flaired, but he still has much to learn.
So it concerns me that as of late he has become more… bloodthirsty? I saw the look in his eye when he had confronted me. He was weighing the pros and cons of my blood on his hands. He had given a goblin more quarter when we were supposed to kill him and now he isn’t even concerned when Kun-We slaughters innocent merchants only trying to protect themselves and their goods. I had told him his near death experience was a mistake, something I did not foresee, I had apologized for my indiscretion, said that I had wished to amend any wrongs I had done at any cost and still he seethes just under the surface at my very presence.
All the things that were said about trust and the oathcircle had proven to be my nemesis. I had told Suldren (in not so many words) that my acts did not speak volumes about my intent. They were like Man’s words, mutable like water. I cannot believe what most of this plane say they will do, they change their minds when it suits them. In the Fey Wild, words ARE action. Just like when they decided it did not suit them to return the compass, it did not suit them to grant me mercy after they had sworn an oath to protect a Dagger.
That is not entirely true, I retract that. I was granted mercy, it was just the murder that I could still see in his eyes. Suldren cannot understand my addiction to irony and doesn’t want to, perhaps he never will. My addiction consumes me like his rage consumes him so I cannot fault him his weakness.
Actually, I should say consumed. This collar prevents any love that I have…
Additionally, Kun-We had disappointed me somewhat. I had asked him why he should allow me to remove my collar and why he had any interest in it. As far as I could read Kun-We ignores everything that he doesn’t understand or enjoy, so his interest could have been only one of 2 things.
As he stated, it certainly wasn’t compassion for me.
Therefore, I imagine at some point he must have been a slave. It’s the only thing I can think of that fits. It reminds him of a time that he loathed.
I am still miserable again. I think I shall have to apologize to Talmud for my demeanor as of late. I’ll ask him if he’d like to play some chess sometime, it’ll help me get my mind off of things for a spell. He has been a good friend to me and I need to repay him more somehow.
Parlor tricks… parlor tricks…Foolish Suldren.