Today has been odd. I find that I regret leaving Far Chetwood this morning to continue my vigil in this spiteful town. I felt at peace in those woods, as I always do, but Cyfier did not seek me there last night and I have to keep up the pretence of his absence. I therefore forced myself to leave behind my place of tranquility and make my way into Bree instead. The closer I came to the settlement, the less pacific I felt but I certainly had no inkling as to the turmoil that it would throw my way this day.
To begin with, I took up residency on the stone bench only to have a hobbit begin to play a lute next to me. I tuned out the sound of the music, determined to keep up appearances. Usually, I might listen and even enjoy the sounds for I have always loved the magic that can be wrought by a well-played song but this day my mind was elsewhere. I must be thankful, therefore, that Flannery was in the area for, as I remained occupied by thought, Arugru went to greet her. It was only her called complaint that he was accidentaly trying to push her from the steps outside the Prancing Pony that called my attention back to the present. Without that, I may not have been mentally present enough to see what it was he planned to do next. He returned to my side at my behest, but before my attention could drift once more I was forced to throw my arms about his neck and hold him back. Even as I did so, he continued to try to lunge for the hobbit musician! I had to drag him away by his ruff in the end even if only to prevent injury to the vacant bard.
When I returned to my vigil some time later, I was to face something even more unexpected that my faithful companion randomly attacking a halfling. I was speaking to Arukhor, a man I had once trusted well enough to tell of my origins but now had no recollection of, when our conversation was interrupted by a voice I had thought never to hear again. I turned and there, seated atop a beautiful black horse, was one I had once known so well.
He had changed not at all. Tall and tapered, fit and healthy, with alabaster skin and a breathtakingly beauitful face framed by thick blond hair. The passage of time has not aged him at all. He looked exactly as he had so long ago when he kissed me one last time and told me that he had an errand to run and would return in a few days time.
I knew not what to think. I knew not what to feel. I had believed him dead! I had mourned his passing and now here he stood before me, smiling and speaking as if he had never abandoned me and without so much as an apology.
I grudgingly left my vigil, and Arukhor, to accompany him elsewhere for a more private conversation. I cannot say that I had any particular wish to grant him such a favour after what he had done but ever have I been the one to espouse the virtue of forgiveness and second chances. To refuse him would have proven hypocritical and a part of me was curious as to why he had suddenly returned after so long. What he had to say hurt me deeply.
Given that he had once told me that he loved me, had even debated with me at length as to whether we should wed - with me refusing to allow him to make such a grave sacrifice on my behalf - and had then departed for years on end without so much as a short note to inform me of his fate, I had not expected him to rekindle our previous relationship. Nevertheless, I did not expect to be told that the only reason he had sought me out was to see if I could aid him in discovering the nature and origins of a particularly nasty poison! Years of silence, of leaving me to believe that he had been lost to the world, and he comes to me about a toxin!
He did it for love of me, he said. He did it that I might be free of him to lead my own life, to find love elsewhere. Selfish! Had he any regard for me whatsoever, surely he would have simply told me that we needed to set aside the childish dream of remaining together. I would have understood. His kind is immortal and I... am but a fleeting spark from the embers of life; doomed to breifly fly up into the night and wink out of existence in but the blink of an eye.
He did it for love of me, but how can I believe that now? How can I believe that he ever cared for me when he lied in such an awful manner? How can I believe that he ever so much as thought well of me when his entire reason for allowing me to know of his continued health is entirely due to my knowledge of poisons and cures?
Upset with him though I may be, I have agreed to look into this unusual substance. Between the situation with Cyfier, Aakusti's continued presence, Rellas' paranoia, Seaver's sudden distance, the return of Nevarian - the elf formerly known as Vaenthall, Nalokha's silent threats and Haldrid's absence, I fear that I may break once more if I do not have something to concentrate on. The various problems are too many and too scattered. They run concurrently but with no discernable way for me to know which one needs the most attention at any given time. At least the little mystery of the vial is something tangible and clearly set before me.
Bree, Bree, home of the Free... it has failed to physically end my life on several occasions, though not for lack of trying. Perhaps it now seeks to end my sanity once and for all.
