Tarsakh 1, 1373

Today the day was as beautiful as it was long. I managed to find some time during the midday meal to take a walk. With the snow crunching softly beneath my feet, the landscape appeared pristine and peaceful. Often, I could see a sprig or sprout poking its way through the snowy ground.

The thawing has begun. Soon, we'll be able to celebrate the Greengrass festival. For now, though, the land looks quiet and peaceful. How ironic that beneath all the peace and beauty lies death and destruction.

I haven't forgotten the battle fought to reclaim this ground and I fear that none of the Heirs will either. Theirs is a story linked to this land. As the snow covers the scars of war, so to do the Heirs hide their own scars.

Things have progressed remarkably with the rebuilding efforts. An engineer arrived a ten-day ago from Cormyr. His name is Almon de Castille. He was sent to help by the Princess Alustair. She has also sent a letter of welcome to the Twins. She's requested the Twins come and make an official visit before The Harvest. The Twins haven't taken much notice of her offer, and this doesn't surprise me. They are a great deal like their father, single-minded and determined. I've spoken with Jonathan at some length about it. He promised he would talk to them, but he feels as I do; the castle is more important.

During our evening meal, I had some time to reflect on the situation over the past few months. My insight has me frightened to say the least. I fear that though the Dark God was destroyed, things haven't improved much for the Kingdom. The city of Calaunt was devastated during the War, and now, they are threatening to march upon our lands. Thank the gods for Craer's army. Without him, it wouldn't be just talk.

Speaking of Craer, he's been awfully agitated as of late. I think something is bothering him. I've seen him snap at his officers for minor offenses. I've observed the severe beating of one of his guards for failing an inspection. There are rumblings that the War has torn his soul asunder and he's not the man who once led them.

Of this I cannot believe…

I've seen him speaking to the Twins and he seems like his old self. I wonder if the War did take its toll upon him? I've seen no wavering in his faith, but I wonder if some sort of guilt plagues him?

What disturbs me, though, is his rage. I've heard of some atrocities he has committed against the brigands and thugs who once served in the armies of the Dark God. He shows no mercy, even to the weak and helpless. I pray each night for peace to touch his soul. I fear his rage is destroying him from the inside. I can only speculate if he's plagued by thoughts of his inheritance being despoiled, by his very own kin in Vaasa. It's probably another burden upon his weary soul.

Jonathan has fared much better. But I see the longing in his eyes. Often, I observe him standing atop Wyrmridge Hill, staring to the south as if watching for someone's return. I have heard of his lost love, Teagen and I'm aware of his desire to resume the search for her. I fear that he's on a fool's errand, but he cannot be swayed. I think, if given half a chance, he would leave us now. I know that his thoughts are on her as I've often heard him sing a beautiful sonnet, when he thinks he's alone. There is a sadness to him that breaks my heart. Sometimes, we are forced to sacrifice our own needs and wants for the greater good. I only hope that he understands this. But I don't want to be the one to tell him that. He seeks solace in the company of the Heirs from time to time. Most of them do.

Except for Enolis.

He's been distant since the final battle. He is an unsettled man. I'm not sure what to make of him. The Blood of Demons courses through his veins, and yet, I see a hint of civility within him. A kindness and compassion oft reserved for members of the elven surface races. Is such a thing possible? Someone who can look so evil and vile, and yet have a heart of gold? I for sure know that it can happen and Enolis is the living embodiment of that.

But since the War, he too has been troubled. He doesn't voice his troubles, nor does he rarely speak to the Twins or Craer. Sometimes, I see him talking with Jonathan. I've observed the strained friendship that is theirs, but I sense something much deeper is going on. Often, I find Enolis sitting and staring at the plain silver ring that rests upon his finger. He is often lost in thought and does not hear me approach and doesn't respond to my queries. His meditative state is one of the strongest I have ever witnessed, even more so than the monks who visited us many years ago from the Monastery of the Yellow Rose.

Always is he engrossed with the ring. It is his obsession. I'm not sure what importance it holds to him, but rest assured, he allows no one to come near it. His reaction towards me when I attempted to touch it, can attest to that. I'm glad that before he cast his spell, he recognized me for who I was and not the filthy thief he claimed me to be.

Sirus is faring better since his encounter with the soul beast. From what I've been told and the research that I've been able to conduct, I think the beast was a nighthaunt, a life stealer. Whatever it was, the damage has been done. Sirus is but a shell of his former self. And to be honest, there isn't much of Sirus left in that shell. He suffers from paranoia and carries a strong distrust of everyone except Jonathan. It seems he will only allow Jonathan to visit and to bring him food.

I've had the chance to listen in on their conversations. They are erratic and filled with babbling nonsense. But, from time to time, Sirus becomes sane enough to talk about locales and people he has met. Some of the names I've heard of, but they are of places and folks from the ancient texts, some dating back to over 1,000 years or more. I've recognized the names, but it is impossible for Sirus to have been there to experience those very same events.

I feel that his broken mind is using stories told to him in his youth and confusing it with his own life events. Could this be a sort of mental protection? I'm not sure, but he's at his calmest when he's talking to Jonathan. I wonder if he'll ever recover? I'd hate to have to send him to the Sanitarium in Mulmaster. I fear that his condition will only worsen over time, and we don't have the means, here in Wyrmridge, to properly care for him. It saddens me, but what choice do we have?

Our victory has been won, but at what cost? All those lives lost, all those souls destroyed. Those whom we call Heroes seem to suffer the worst of it. Is such the way of Heroes then? If so, then why would anyone want to aspire to become one? I don't know the answer and I don't know what drives these men to seek their fulfillment with heroic deeds. I can only ask why? What motivates these men, knowing the cost is so very high?

Oddly enough, Valor becomes an epidemic when a Hero passes by, for all the youngsters heads are filled with dreams of fame, fortune and glory. They flock to the Hero like moths drawn to a flame. Their destruction is eminent, the cost ignored, continuing even unto death. Only a few ever achieve the ultimate goal. Sadly, this world needs its Heroes; the cost not yet high enough to deter them.

Well, the moon is rising on high and dawn comes way too early. I must get some rest, for tomorrow is another busy day.

E. Wiseborn

Bishop of Torm