Excerpt from the Journal of Rosto the Piper
King of the Court of the Rogue. The Lower City. Corus.
July 8, 247
Written at the Court of the Rogue, late afternoon
Here I am, sitting on my hard-won throne, but not as the Rogue. Just as Rosto. To think, a few years ago I never would have dreamed that this is where I'd end up – King of the Rogue, in love with a Lower City Dog. A few years ago I never would have even envisioned what was to come, or who I would become. I've changed since I came from Scanra. I've changed alot. Back then, I wasn't two different people, and yet, the same person. I was just Rosto the Piper. Now, I'm the Rogue, the King of Thieves.
The battle at Port Caynn is still so fresh in my memory, it seems like yesterday, though it's more than two weeks past. That battle changed everything, and I know it. It showed me more of who I am than anything else has. It's shown me that I am not just Rosto anymore. I knew this before, but it was never so pronounced. When I'm the Rogue, I'm a different person, literally. Rosto doesn't control my emotions or what I do. Rosto isn't there. It's the Rogue, there's no denying it. There are things I wouldn't do as the Rogue that I would, as the Piper. I've never seen myself as such a different person before. The Rogue is almost entirely unforgiving. He won't take no as an answer if there's something he wants.
How is it that I'm just now noticing this? I share the same body, the same flesh, with this Rogue, and I don't even really know who he is. I don't think we're even the same person. I knew a few months ago that I changed when I was acting as the Rogue, that I was all business and no play during Court. I see things differently when I'm the Rogue. It worries me that I even see Beka differently. When I'm the Rogue, I couldn't care less if she lived or died. I'd even kill her myself if she stilled my hand on a matter. I just can't control myself. I can feel the shift in who I am every time I'm at the Court. The shift is easy now. I don't even have to think. That worries me even more. What if the Rogue starts taking over who I am? What if I lose Rosto for a moment when I'm with Beka, and I say or do something I regret? What if I became the Rogue completely? Rosto would disappear then, forever. I just know it. If I lost myself to the Rogue entirely, there would be no turning back. Even Aniki and Kora would hate me. Even Beka. Especially Beka.
Who is this man I become? He's so cold, so heartless. I think back to Port Caynn, and I know. I could have killed her, when she stilled my hand with Breno. I could have killed her when she apologized to the Rogue for that. If I could kill sweet, shy Beka when he takes over, what else could I do? I can't control it. I can't even do anything to try to stop it. He's as much part of me now as my love for Beka is. We're two sides of the same coin. Two people in one person. I don't like this. Not at all. And I don't think I ever will…And the only way I can get rid of the Rogue would be if I walked away. That's something I cannot do. I can't walk away from the Court of the Rogue; it's who I am now. I can't step down without losing my life. Even if I wanted to I couldn't. I've doomed myself to one fate. I've doomed myself to die at the blades of another who thinks that they can run the Rogue better than I can. I can only hope that that day is a long time in coming. I don't want to lose the time I have with any of the people I consider friends, especially Beka.
The Rogue has a quarrel with all and any Dogs that want to take issue with the way he runs things. He and Guardswoman Cooper have as many quarrels as Aniki does with her as Queen of the Ladies of the Rogue. Yet, when we're not Rogue and Dog, Beka and I have less trouble than I have with water.
I wonder how it is in her eyes, my being both Rosto, and the Rogue…I don't know this person, the Rogue. Who is he, really? How can he be so cold and uncaring? How is it that he would kill Beka, my Beka?
Written after Court
This was a harrowing evening. I was challenged for my throne. It wasn't my first challenge, but it's the first since I got back from Port Caynn, and the first I've had in a long time. It was also the one I came closest to losing.
It started out normal, the usual beginning of Court, up until the Dogs came to collect the Happy Bags. It was Beka and Tunstall who came. They alternate the Happy Bags between them and Goodwin and Ersken. So, almost as soon as they came in, some young cove from Prettybone district comes up to the dais without permission. He looked to be about fifteen or so, he had reddish-brown hair and green eyes. He didn't seem dangerous, at first glance, but I know better.
"A challenge for your throne, Majesty." That was when the Rogue just took over. I nodded to the lad, rising from my throne. "As challenged, I pick weapons and set the rules. Daggers and hand to hand, no Shang fighting," I heard myself say. It was like I was seeing it from outside. He nodded and backed off of the dais. I stretched leisurely, my eyes scanning the crowd. Beka and Tunstall were speaking in hushed whispers, she looked nearly frantic. She must have seen the Rogue in my eyes, because she looked away when I looked at her.
Unlike the cove, I left my boots on, but shed my outer blue-violet silk shirt in favor of the sleeveless black one I wore under it. I pulled a dagger from my belt, and waited for my challenger to initiate the attack. After a moment, he surged in, slashing his dagger at my throat. That's the oldest trick in the book. I ducked and brought my own blade up under his guard. He knocked my blow away, and slashed at my arm. It was a well-aimed slash, else it wouldn't have caught me. Fire erupted from the place where his dagger had sliced my skin. I danced away, checking the extent of my wound quickly before flicking another dagger out of a wrist sheath, which was in plain sight without the silk shirt. I threw it at him, aiming for his shoulder. He moved slightly, but not enough to get out of the way entirely, as he thought he had. The sharp edge of the dagger clipped his shoulder, and he yelped.
He rushed in, letting his temper get the better of him. I was lucky in that regard, that I was able to keep my head in battle. I stepped out of the way, and he ran right into a table. Dripping from the ale and other liquids that had slopped all over him, he rose, his expression furious. He rushed in again, and did something I wasn't expecting – he punched me. I reeled back, throwing my dagger up in defense. I could feel my eye swelling already. Before I had a chance to recover, he surged toward me again. Had I not caught his, he might have thrust the blade into my heart. We grappled for a moment, before he knocked my feet out from under me. We fell to the ground, while he struggled to get his wrist free. His weight on top of me made it harder. The way we'd fallen, his wrist had jerked and the blade had made a gash over my good eye. He could see that I was winning in our struggle, and frantically searched for a way to kill me. Using all of his strength, he drove his dagger toward my throat, wanting to end it while he could. He got close, too close for comfort. As a last attempt, I jerked my own wrist out of his grip and dashed the hilt of my dagger against his chin. Before he passed out, he slashed at my throat, knowing that it was his last chance for life.
He missed, but not by much. The blade edge sliced a deep slit running along my collarbone. After just a second, he passed out on top of me; I used a leg to lever him off, and tried to get up. The room spun when I got to my feet. I couldn't see because of the swelling in my left eye and the blood that dripped from above my right eye. I was lightheaded, but I knew I had to finish what I had started, and get out of there before I blacked out. I bent down and cut the cove's throat, though I regretted it. I hate wasting perfectly good rushers, and killing someone, even when I have to. There are rules to being the Rogue. If you defeat a challenger, you have to kill him or her, just like they have to kill you if they want to be the Rogue. It's a sad fact in the Court, but it's just the way it goes.
Everyone stood frozen as I staggered back to the dais. "Aniki, take over. I've got to go to a healer," I said. She nodded, but didn't move from her seat. Even Aniki knows better than to sit in my throne, though she is Queen of the Rogue.
I took a deep breath before I started for the door. When I was nearly there, I felt a soft hand on my arm. I couldn't see who it was between the fact that my eye was swollen shut at this point, and my vision was almost completely obscured by the blood. I shook the hand away, muttering something like "Get away, doxy," under my breath so that only the woman could hear me. I wiped the blood from my eye only to see that it was Beka. I could feel the Rogue slipping back into the shadows as our eyes met. Hers had turned into pools of ice. We stared at each other for a moment before spots started swimming in my vision. I nearly blacked out, then. "I'm sorry, Beka," I whispered before I managed to stumble out of the Dancing Dove. The only reason I'm still alive to write this is that there is a healer that lives close to my inn. I managed to get there quickly, considering the way I felt. The healer opened the door before I had knocked twice. I almost passed out against the doorframe, but, thankfully, I managed not to. The healer was a young woman, as most of the Lower City healers are. She helped me to one of the rooms where healers do their healings - whatever they call them. After just a moment, her fingers glowed a pale gold as she called on her magic. Her cool fingers ran along the cuts on my arm and collarbone. The release from the pain was a relief, even more so when she healed the black eye. I stopped her for a moment before she healed the cut on my forehead. "Let it leave a scar."
She laughed. "Every time you've come to me for a healing, you've come out of it with a scar, Rosto the Piper. You are so vain." She did as I told her to, though. Admittedly, she has a point. I do have my vanity…
I did go back to Court after that, but only briefly. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I didn't feel well at all. My head throbbed, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I never do feel well after a healing. I think another reason was that I felt guilt about what I said to Beka. I didn't mean to, I didn't know it was her…
I left after a little bit, and came back here. The headache I had is mostly gone, and my stomach has quieted, but I still feel bad. I can only hope that she'll forgive me. I hope Beka will forgive me. I hope Beka is in there somewhere, and not Guardswoman Cooper. I heard her on the steps a few moments ago. I'm going to go apologize again. Maybe she'll forgive me…