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Nov 8

Dear Diary,

Two most miraculous things have happened to me today.  Please pardon if this entry isn’t as well thought out as my others (as much as my often sleep addled brain and scarred, corrupted soul allow clear thought) but I simply need to get all this out.

The Light truly touched me today, embraced me, loved me for who I am.  I say this not for self-aggrandizement, but it’s simply what I was told by Sir Luther.  I encountered him on my way to the Cathedral for my usual prayer, we exchanged pleasantries until he started asking me about my journey for repentance.  I told him that I was doing as I could, explained what I was doing, and that I had been told by a few of our order that I was on the path.  He laughed a little at that, then tried to explain the different to being on the path and truly following the path.  I did not understand, and so he took me to A’dal.

I have only been to A’dal twice, and I have never actually looked upon the Holy being.  As… sinful as it feels to write these words, I had simply viewed the gentle and caring Naaru as a nice background (Please Light, don’t strike me down yet).  But to truly look upon the being, initially at least, was too much for my dark, tainted body, and I struggled to approach the platform above which A’dal hovered.

Thank the Light that Sir Luther was there, for if I had gone alone I simply would have passed out in awe of the Light and the Naaru’s radiance.  He spoke to the Naaru, explaining my situation and asked it to show me the example of when the “Light saved one of its Champions from the Plague of Undeath”.  My heart had stopped (if it still beats, sometimes I’m not sure) in my chest and for a moment I thought he was jesting.  But the pure Light of A’dal entered my head, showing me a beautiful scene of which I shall try to explain.

Upon the icy ground of Icecrown lay a fallen Crusader, beside a feebly burning campfire.  A helmeted man approached, and the Crusader, Bridenbrad I believe, explained in a weak voice that he had succumbed to the Plague during battle and had fled to the mountains so his comrades would not suffer the same fate.  The helmeted hero returned to Highlord Fordring, who commanded the hero to first seek out Keeper Remulous, then the Life Binder herself, in failed attempts to save Bridenbrad.  My heart ached for the man, for I knew too feeling of my life leaving my body, the feeling of the chill of undeath slowly taking hold of me, I knew his fear, a fear not of death, but of eternal damnation and subservience to the Scourge.  As a Crusader, the fear must have been tenfold, to be denied the Light he lived and would die for.

But the Light would not abandon this Crusader.  Highlord Fordring commanded the Hero to hurry to A’dal, in a final effort to save the man.  Bridenbrad ultimately died, but A’dal and two other Naaru appeared, their Light radiating in a land that never seems to be kissed by the Sun.  And instead of rising up as a Ghoul, as would normally be his fate, Bridenbrad stayed dead on this physical plane, but his soul rose up to the Light, where he would feel eternal paradise.

Tears streamed down my face and my breath was labored as I saw the glorious triumph of the Light in the Lich King’s very realm.  But I did not understand, this seemed to not apply to me.  Bridenbrad was a champion who lived and died for the Light, and I was a Death Knight, an abomination in the face of the Light.  But A’dal seemed to look down at me, as it also looked down at the Hero, and said these words:

The Light does not abandon its champions.”

I fell to the floor, tears streaming down my face to fall in icy crystals on the floor (I’ve lost even the ability to cry normally).  I couldn’t breath, but my body was filled with the Light it felt.  I could have died then, and even if nothing happened to my blackened soul, I would have been happy.  But Sir Luther was there to catch me, to hold me in the way only a great friend and mentor could.  And under the glorious shine of the Light, A’dal sang to me.  To ME, diary.  It was a marvelous sound, and I almost collapsed again if I hadn’t been leaning against Sir Luther.  I opened my heart and by soul to the Light, and now I truly know I am ON the path to redemption.

And with that, I had to leave the comfort of A’dal and Sir Luther, of Stormwind, Giyanni, and the areas frequented by the Candle.  I will return to them soon, but as I told Sir Luther, I must return to the Plaguelands, to the Scarlet Enclave.  I must free the men, women, and… children… yes, children… that I killed and added to the Lich King’s ranks.  Those souls, like Bridenbrad, they must be return to the Light, and I am the only one who can help them, since it was by my hand and my sword by which they fell.


November 3

According to this gnomish device, it is one hour after midnight.  I can’t believe I’m still up.  Some of my race are nocturnal, but I prefer to adopt the sleep patterns of the rest of our allies.  I do it now to maintain my contact with my new… friends.  It’s strange for me to say friends, ever since my rebirth I’ve never had friends until a few weeks ago.

Back to my point though, and my silly little remembering, I used to do it when I was a hopeless romantic at heart and imagined taking a human (or even Draenei after they crashed into our planet) lover, of being different than the others.  I say lover instead of “husband” as most people would say because… I’m attracted to both genders.  Always have been, probably always will be.  I’m actually told that in a race as long lived as mine, it’s not uncommon, but I never found many who shared my beliefs.  And after what the Scourge have done to my body… I doubt I’ll find anyone interested.  Especially what that one cultist did to me.  That’s for a different day.

Regardless, it’s very late and I’m very tired.  And when I get tired, it seems that I start waxing on and on.  But this is fun, what else happened recently…

Oh, of course.  How could I forget!  Yesterday… I finally felt the Light again.  I had felt it a few times when I was still alive.  I’d gone to a few sermons in Stormwind, and even one in Light’s Hope before my death.  But to feel it now, after what’s happened to me and what I’ve done… It was simply marvelous.  Allow me to get into details.

I’d been wandering around the Cathedral, considering the sermon I’d heard in the Outlands when I spotted the High Priestess and Lord Brother Thalend.  I went over to see what they were doing, and they greeted me but were involved in speaking with a druid.  I was listening and watching them when I looked over and saw Sir Luther.  I’d been wanting to discuss with the High Priestess my repenting for using ghouls, but decided that Sir Luther would be just as excellent an instructor.  We spoke pleasantly for a bit before he took me into the Cathedral and instructed me in what I feel was a sort of prayer and meditation.  I started to do as he said, feeling the guilt leave me when suddenly I felt I was filled with something else, something that tingled against the unholy magic in me, not attacking it but seeming to work with it, if that’s possible.  It’s hard to explain, other than it was simply wonderful.

I must have passed out from it, and Sir Luther was graceful enough to let me rest in the glory of the Cathedral.  When I did wake though, I was filled with a desire to show others, even other Death Knights that the Light can still touch us, even though perhaps it doesn’t empower us like Priests or Paladins.  I’ve been filled with this vigor for a day now, and I pray (yes, pray!) that it won’t leave me.  For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited, I’m truly happy.

I’m also driven now though, I’ve been gathering armor and magical trinkets to augment my strength to fight the Scourge even more.  Perhaps, if nothing else, I can free those still trapped.  Those poor souls deserve, if nothing else, their freedom.

Anyways, I’m rambling and partially sleep-crazed.  Time for me to turn in now, after I say my prayers.  I actually learned them, I found a book in a used shop that discussed them, and I’ll have to show another member of the Candle it to see if the prayers they use are what we use.  That’s for later today though, now I sleep.  I feel as if I can rest, truly rest, for once in a long time.

-Garina Duskshadow-

Drabble Meme from WrA.net

Fun drabbley thing I got to do ( http://wyrmrestaccord.net/content/drabble-meme ). Hope you enjoy.

Kára – “Pets”

She wasn’t really one for pet, mostly because her undead status caused most animals to fear or avoid her.  She didn’t blame them though, if she were a small furry, scaley, or slimey creature she figured she’d also be afraid of something that shouldn’t be moving, let alone picking up its poop.

However, when Giyanni came home from having lunch at a friend’s house, she was pleasantly surprised by what she saw.  On the couch lay the form of her Aunt Garina, clutching another dusty tome from what seemed an infinite collection of them and sound asleep.  This wasn’t an unusual sight at all, Garina enjoyed her quiet time at home.  The unusual part was the small, black kitten curled up on Garina’s stomach, its head resting on the gentle swell of her breast.  Giyanni had to stifle a happy giggle as she watched them, carefully pulling out her sketchbook to capture the scene.  She knew her auntie wasn’t as scary as she tried to be.

Nicene – “Serenity Shattered”

As much as Garina loved her niece, sometimes it was nicer when the druid wasn’t in the house they shared.  It wasn’t that they fought or argued, but the girl was almost always trying something and always talking.  Garina did her best to look interested and asking a few simple questions to show she actually cared, though her mind often wandered back to her youth, when she did the same thing to Giyanni’s mother.

At the moment though, the druid was involved in “important experiments” in her room upstairs.  She’d showed Garina a vial containing bits of offcolored plant material, saying it was from the Outlands and told her all about how it’s supposed to look.  Garina just nodded and asked her to be careful before returning to her book.  Now that she thought about it, the girl had been quiet for a while now…

She looked upward, half expecting something to come and shatter the serenity that had settled over the house.  She waited a few moments before quietly laughing to herself, feeling a bit foolish.

Demitri – “Broken Piece of Jewelry”

Giyanni stared at the broken necklace in her hands with interest, sitting back on her knees amongst the boxes and dust in her old home.  Not too far away, her aunt looked up from some more boxes, squinting slightly to see what the girl had found.  The druid held up the necklace, a slightly smashed tarnished silver pendant on bent and kinked chain of silver, a single tiger’s eye in the center of the pendant.  It was a simple thing, and probably wouldn’t be worth its cost while to fix.  Garina recognized it right away though.

“Your grandmother gave that to your mother the day you were born.”  She said simply, rising to go stand next to her niece.  “She’d want you to have it now, it’s a family heirloom.”

“It’s broken though, and I don’t know if I have the gold to fix it.”  Giyanni said simply, turning the pendant over in her hands.  On the back the name Duskshadow had been scratched into the once smooth silver.  Suddenly a gauntleted hand covered her own, closing her hand around the delicate pendant.

“I’ll pay to get it fixed.  This piece of broken jewelry has more worth than just what it’ll appraise for.”

Vorrick – “Toast”

“Toast and eggs, ma’am?”

The simple question threw Garina off, and if she weren’t already sitting down she surely would have staggered.  She stared at the girl who asked the question, a Night Elf maiden with pale purple skin and white hair, dressed in plate armor and holding a plate laiden with eggs and slices of toast.

It was neither the question nor the girl that threw off the usually graceful Death Knight.  What staggered her was that the question was directed at her. Though the Crusaders certainly appreciated her steel and battle prowess, they didn’t include her in their afterbattle rest and relaxation.  Frankly, it didn’t bother her one bit.

Another Crusader stepped up next to the girl, a human boy with a crooked smile and red hair.  Behind them, the rest of their group was gathered around their cooking fire, regarding the Death Knight with curious and kind eyes.

“Please join us, ma’am.  We have food and drink, and were wondering if you woudln’t mind sharing a tale or two?”

Under the shadow of Icecrown Citadel, surrounded by cold and death, Garina never enjoyed toast as much as she did that night.

Last Night Of Hallow’s End

Tonight is the last night of Hallow’s End, and I for one am not as disappointed to see it go as much as Giyanni is.  She certainly enjoyed the candy and games, she’s such a child sometimes.  It was fun to see the humans enjoy it, though my heart (or what’s left of it) is partially broken when I see how short lived their race is.  But perhaps that isn’t as much an issue to some, my own sister took a human lover some time before her death.

That reminds me, I ended yesterday talking about my own death and rebirth.  It’s a difficult thing for me to discuss, though it’s easy to write it seems.  Perhaps I should even try and write it up like a story, I bet Giyanni would like that if I read it to her.  But that’s something for another day, when I’m not so tired and can think more clearly.

I was fortunate enough to meet up with Lord Master Brother Thalend today.  He’s almost as knowledgeable about the Light as the High Priestess, and I was able to get answers for my questions about the Light and Prayer from him.  That is, before some events with Sister Felia occurred.  By the Light (is it wrong for a former Scourge warrior to say that?), I swear she causes so much trouble for everyone.  I’m sure she means well -today she was in Stormwind against Brother Luther’s wishes to get armaments for the Nightwatch- her actions often land her in trouble, and her curious and nervous way of speaking make it difficult to trust her.  (On a side note, Brother Thalend explained that I was truly a Sister, which made me happy, even if I tried to deny it).  Regardless, we then got somehow pulled into a fight, which I don’t want to get into right now because I don’t truly comprehend it yet.

I returned home to find Giyanni dividing her candy up to share with me.  I don’t eat candy, but the act of that was enough to touch my heart and make me feel a little less lonely.  I did have a mint though, which was nice and reminded me what sweet foods were like, even if my current state leaves me with more of a craving for blood.

Anyways, I feel this journal entry has become completely mindless and lost.  Today was a fairly active day, and I’m pleased for the most part.  And now, it’s time for me to rest.

Garina Duskshadow

A Beginning

Every story must have a beginning.  At least that’s why my lovable, but sometimes clueless, niece Giyanni tells me.  She reminds me very much of her mother, though my memories of my sister are fragmented and vague at best.  And like her late mother, Giyanni has been hounding me to start a diary to “record [my] inner thoughts”.  She even bought me this little leather notebook to write in.  She knows my tastes very well, it’s black with a silver buckle to keep it closed, and she even had my name, Garina Duskshadow, carved in intricate calligraphy into the cover.

I’m surprised I can still write, after the brainwashing I suffered at the hands of the Lich King.  Unlike many of the other “Ebon Knights” who were freed at Light’s Hope, I’d been under his control for quite some time, after a foolish mission into the Scourge controlled section of Stratholme.  The memory of being swarmed by the undead, of my soul being corrupted and twisted into something unholy, was one of the memories the Lich King let me keep, though it was also twisted into a demented image of a powerful and wonderful rebirth.  I was even experimented on to a small degree, various unholy spells and surgeries done to me by crazed necromancers, some doing it simply for sport.  I may not look like an Abomination, but I fear to see myself nude in the mirror at times.

I would write more, but the memories have changed my mood slightly.  Though I feel somewhat lighter at having conversed with a book about my past (Have I gone crazy already?) my mind is clouded with fatigue and I think I hear Giyanni returning from her night out with her friends.  I suspect she’ll want to talk to me about her night, not that I dislike hearing about her life.  Writing in here is certainly enjoyable though, I shall certainly write more when I have time.

Garina Duskshadow