I Wound for Love
Entry #10

[Written on thin parchment, in small script, that may be difficult to read by some. The pages themselves are neatly organized and appear to represent an obsessive nature about the writer.]

"What is it exactly that you do when you go away, Kyros?"

It wasn't exactly the question I wanted to hear. It also wasn't one of those subjects I wanted to get involved in. In my entire time of working as a mercenary for the Grey Wolves, I had convinced myself that Krysinna wouldn't hear a thing of them. Something changed my mind that night, however. I'd left Miss Alexemia in the peaceful covers of the room we always stay at in Falconwing Square.

I'll be brutally honest here. I don't sleep well at night, if at all. It's not uncommon to find me wandering the streets of Silvermoon or even through the woods. I imagine if one were to look upon me, they'd see the eyes of a man who is no longer in reality, but rather a world he has made for himself.

"What does it look like?" you ask. That's a good question. I'm not sure I'm willing to indulge you just yet. Give me a little more time and I'll eventually come around. It's just not the proper time yet.

I'll admit, however, I do spend these nights off in my own little paradise, it seems. This isn't an escape. It's simply how I choose to see things with my eyes. You see what you want to, and I'll do the same. Agree to disagree and that's all that needs to be said. If you're really bothered so much by it, then take your problems to someone else who actually cares. I'm not the right person and there's not a very high probability that I'll actually listen.

Right. I don't particularly care for people who have complaints. At least, not when they're complaining about me. If one is complaining about his or her personal life, that doesn't bother me so much—not if they're doing something to change it and aren't having the most fortuitous outcomes. If they expect me to save them, then that's something entirely different.

Let's keep in mind that Krysinna doesn't fall into that category. She's a disciple. She's allowed to ask of me whatever she wants. (It just doesn't guarantee she's going to get what she requested.)

I'm getting distracted. One of these days, that will stop. It implies that I'm incapable of having comprehensive thought. I'm more organized than these entries may imply. Again, your opinion doesn't matter, so don't bother sharing it, unless you're going to tell me how wonderful I am. You might not need to do that, though, because I already know.

At any rate…

We were discussing Krysinna and the curiosity that sometimes needs to be quelled. In that respect, I would love nothing more than to mercilessly squeeze the very life out of her body. There's something about holding her limp frame in my arms that excites me, that thrills me, perhaps even more so than the blood of her maternal and paternal units forever staining my hands. There is beauty in blood, yes, but I find beauty in a form that no longer moves as well.

Just pat me on the head and call me twisted.

I'm kidding.

I succumbed to the priestess and explained that they were a group of mercenaries. In her lap was the pet cat I had recovered for her. I suppose it's a cute creature, not that 'cute' is really the kind of word I would use. She seems to like it. I felt it was appropriate for her, so she would miss me less, and that's exactly the way it needs to be. I can't have her following me everywhere because she would simply be an obstruction. It would be another situation where she'd be of better use to me dead.

As I told her of my occupation, she grew a look in the eyes. It's the one that every parent has seen. The eyes grow wide, the skin becomes pale, and the hands tighten. I, of course, never do anything like that, but to humor you, just remember that I'm talking about fear.

"What if… You mean they'll do any job for a price? But… But what price?" she asked in that quivering voice.

I inwardly groaned and resisted every urge to get up from my comfortable sitting position and walk away. "Don't let her cry," I pleaded to whatever fellow god was watching over me. "Whatever you do, just don't make her eyes leak. I don't handle that sort of thing well. Besides, she'll ruin the shirt that Atê got for me."

Honesty with Krysinna is often the best way to go, and it was the pathway I chose to take. I explained to her that mercenaries took on various tasks for whoever chose to pay the most. It's hard for anyone not in that position to understand why things happen that way.

If you don't understand as well, allow me to explain. Some people can get away with making an honest living. Mercenaries are doing exactly what you are. They're fighting for their survival. If that means they have to lob a few heads off of people, then you know, that's a pretty damn good price to continue living. You might be asking why I do it, since I can't die (being a celestial being and all). Simple.

I enjoy it.

So that's how it goes. Mercenaries do what they need to do. Just because it's not the same as what you do doesn't mean it's wrong or improper. Just means we're allowed to live our lives the way we want to. Have fun figuring that one out if you're exceptionally thick in the skull.

When Krysinna asked me if mercenaries hurt others, I really had no intent to lie to her. And then she caught me.

"You would never do that, would you?"

I could say that I faltered in my composure and nearly lost it, but that wouldn't be true. I run into this sort of conflict all of the time. I was prepared this time, and I did what I do in other situations like this. I evaded it, by explaining to her that no one would ever harm her. Why do I believe this so strongly? Because I'm guarding her.

As much as it seems like I may treat her as nothing more than a follower, I also know her use as long as she's alive. This means I'll keep her alive for as long as I can possibly withstand her. It wouldn't work very well if someone decided to stick their nose in and ruin my schemes. In fact, I'm pretty sure they'd find themselves a nice public display of what happens when someone attempts to oppose me. I suppose this means I am a bit of a tyrant, but only to those on the wrong side, or those attempting to hinder me.

This means stay the hell out of my way.

Fortunately for me, Krysinna accepted my explanation and my fierce protection over her. When I stated the hour was simply growing too late for me, she hastily picked up her feline companion, begged me to wait for her for only a few moments, and then dashed off towards the Wayfarer's Inn.

"Great," I thought to myself. "What could she possibly want?" She seems to forget at times that I have important things to attend to. Like Atê. I'm not too sure where I'm going with her just yet and I feel like I need some more support beneath my feet. I think I'll arrive at a conclusion very soon. Perhaps.

When Krysinna regained my attention, I found the priestess sporting a white gown, something she'd clearly made herself. I imagine most of the time she spends when she is not training or with me, she is working on with her threads and needles. I have quite a few items that she's made for me, and for a while, she was complaining about how barbaric I would dress. (That is, until I finally purchased for myself something more becoming. Even I have to admit that I'm quite a beast in it, but then that's to be expected. Heh.)

At any rate, she did look nice. Yet somehow as I examined her and as she insisted that my opinion was dreadfully important, I overlooked it. I'm a mentor to her. Of course she's going to take my opinions to heart. A mentor. That's it. And that's what I'm going to continue telling myself. She cannot possibly complicate things any further.

My staring led me to remind myself of one last thing. Atê was sleeping and I needed to rejoin her side. I'd had enough gallivanting for the evening. I could talk to Krysinna later, and come up with a way to handle all things on the side.

Atê was really the first priority.

As she so recently said, I may be 'incorrigible', but is it truly because of her?