*rain streaks down the window panes, its pattering upon the roof a comforting sound combined with the crackling from the fireplace. The bluebook lay open upon the small desk of her workroom and the scent of bilberry tea fills the air as she writes*
Protection comes in many guises, in the form of a mother, a lover, a blade, axe or the like. Sometimes from a stranger, a friend, sometimes it is sought, whilst at other times it is nowhere to be found.
The choices I have forged of late have been, to put things bluntly, problematic. Though the majority of my choices are carefully planned and calculated to gain an advantage. Are my methods deplorable? Mostly, but they have kept me safe thus far.
Tactfully have I chosen associates, some gifted with wit, others with brute strength, most are men but each providing something unique that I can apply to whatever problem that might present itself. Some are paid very well in gold and silver, others in kind words, a shared drink and the chance to feel wanted. Unfortunately I feel I shall have to call upon aid in the coming days, though it intrigues me to discover who might assume the mantle. The man who dared touch me, still leaves the bruises of his finger marks upon my wrist and arm, and why? Because I protect others, the ones within the woods, I always have and now I am at risk yet again for such loyalty.
Mother, I am blessed that you had no desire to learn the written language of these parts for now my frustrations concerning you shall be laid within these pages. Since your arrival to the town I have had to endure your constant prattling concerning the ill ways of men, their foul intentions and what not. I shall do you the honour of agreeing with you, to an extent, for I have been shown the true nature of some and they are indeed as you say, unkind, selfish and cruel. Then again, could not the same be said of your daughter? I have manipulated, taken and harmed yet you still claim my smile rivals the summer dawn and I am more pure of heart than any man could be. You created me, a bitter creature that uses for her gains...have I loved? Oh yes and I wish I had not for it is not the strength the bards would sing of, it is a weakness. You wished to protect me from this, alas you could not.
The bard claims to love me, would protect me, and does, though he is oft gone to appease his family. I gifted him a weapon, one made by a very fine craftsman for he is not the kind to use what I make. Why by the stars do people believe poison is cowardly? It is perfection. A blade does little but slice into the skin like a butchers knife does to a pig, it is messy, loud and above all unnecessary, but poison, with barely a drop I can bring such excruciating pain, or end suffering from incurable pain or disease, I could destroy towns should I wish to, it is all in the application of these things, and of course the nature of the one who formulates it.
Now I must prepare, too long have I waited for a contract to be fulfilled. I am watched by ill eyes…or should that be eye? I will accomplish what has not been done, I will gather what I require from that dark, foreboding place…alone… and finish my work, then, I shall depart. My livelihood depends on efficiency and that has been lacking of late.
