Pages of Memories

Thursday, January 8, 2015 - 10:35

Rowina leaned against the door of her lab and looked around.
Nothing was different around the room yet she was pensive
and sad. Walking to a shelf she pulled out a large tome and
walked to the desk. Running her fingers over the RSW embossed
on the front she opened the leather bound tome. Slowly she
flipped through the pages, touching bits of flowers, or weeds
or sketches drawn in, reading over the words, one page turned her
fair skin crimson and her eyes would not look over to her lab
work table. Coming finally to a blank page, Rowina sat and
dipped her quill into a nearby ink pot. With a bold flowing
script she began to write.

Dear Diary,

There is ever the question put to me, why I do not simply
move on. Those who care for me taunt and tease me, urging
me to forge new paths. I understand their concern, and
I tolerate the jests at my prudish nature, my over concern
towards duty, my hidebound view on my life and bonds.
Yet they only see a thin slice, a moment in time that is
today and the recent past. There is no way to explain to
anyone, not even Tenchi who is dear to me, that it is not
duty, it is not prudishness, it is not even some quest for
power as had been hinted at. Keeping her vows was merely
the right thing to do.

Nobody but she could see a young awkward esper girl, barely
from her basic training in magic, travelled across the
great seas and arriving in Westbridge. The did not see her
confusion and her fear, and they did not see Vorcet that day
come to her with concern, with friendship and with aid.

They were not there as days went by, how he had helped her,
taught her, sheltered her and guided her. None could
understand how in that time, Vorcet had been her rock, her
mentor, her master in the arcane arts. How to explain
that in that time, though she had heard of his more nefarious
deeds in the past, none of that matter for to her he was
nothing buy kind, nothing but patient and nothing but

As time passed, and my magic reached heights equal to his
own and her young nascent wings wished to spread he had
tromped about the countryside with her. From city to
city, through the forests and clearings looking for a place
she would call her own. She knew well he had guided her
to her home, far enough away she could be independant but
close enough to him he could watch over her. Everything
around her held his imprint for he had helped guide and
shape it.

From student to companions we then went, plunging into
the mysteries of Myth Drannor. Searching out the hidden
places of the Realms. To this day she could hear his voice
ring in her ears calling her "Row, come along, do you want
to see something neat!" Of course she always had, dropping
whatever project or task to follow where he lead.

From companion to wife was as gradual, emotions deepened
warmth to heat. She had only known he had some secret
the day they wed. Again calling to her and dragging her
off before Kossuth. Arrogant and certain he had not
even bothered to ask her, only assuming she would say yes.
Before Kossuth, before those few friends he had managed
to find she had given him a piece of her soul.

Now, he was lost to madness. She could feel his torment
his battle as he wrestled with power he had no idea how
to control. She could feel it because he held a piece
of her soul still and it glowed bright within him as she
fueled its fire. What person of worth would turn their
back not just on their husband, but her best friend. The
man who had shaped much of who and what she was. What
measure of a fiend would she be to not, during his most
dire hour, hold steady and fast hoping their fire would
guide him through the storm.

So her dear ones could fuss, and mock and tease as they
would. And she would tolerate it all with an easy
grace and smile. But she would not waver her stand should
it cost her everything. As long as her strength last,
and her will was iron she would wait at the crossroads
with candle steady to help guide him home.