Today has been a largely quiet day.
Aside from my mother learning of my scuffle with that Siward man and getting all up in arms about it, her trying to push me to be with a man again - Welten this time - and a rather rude individual interrupting our conversation in a most uncouth manner, I have little to write about.
Save, perhaps, for Davick being up to his old tricks of trying to scare away any male talking to me. This time, he told Welten that he was my husband. I set Welten straight on that matter later and he and I went for a walk together. I do find him an agreeable man and his company is pleasant, however I still have no wish to become entangled with anyone.
He spoke compliments to me, took my hand into his own. His grip was gentle, I noted, and his manner amusingly nervous. Still, I do not plan on staying in Bree-land for much longer and have no desire for more than friendship from anyone. This I told him as gently as I could. It is saddening that I must let him down, but it would be worse of me to string him along.
Apart from all that, there has been little enough to do but drink tea and consider things.
It occurs to me that I am not who I was. Whilst this is not necessarily a bad thing, still I do not like who it would appear that I am becoming.
Where once I would have stood back and allowed harm to come to me out of a belief that I was too weak to fight back and that the way to a peaceful life was via being peaceable, now it seems to have changed. All that has happened over the years, all that has happened these past months in particular, the harshness of life in Aughaire and the indoctrination of my mother have combined to make me act in ways that I would not have previously.
I see now the importance of defending myself against those who would seek to hurt me. I realise that lying back and allowing them to do as they will is not the way; it will do no good for them or I. Thinking on it, I have been recieving training at the hands of Blaecwyn, Toodle and Fingers for over a year now; with breaks for my travels and various injuries of course. I have known how to fight for some time and, with each session of training, I only become more skilled. I simply did not employ those skills before. Now I see no reason not to do so should my hand be forced. Why should I be victim to the vicious whims of others? Why should I stay my hand when others will not?
Yet, I remain unpredisposed to violence and bloodshed. I still firmly believe that any situation should be resolved peaceably if possible; with words, not blades. Compassion, the will to understand and compromise, forgiveness, honesty - all these things and more are virtues that should be employed and not discarded. My actions of late, though, have caused me to betray my beliefs.
I hold no remorse for fighting back against that man. I do, however, feel regret for my words to Faustino. I owe nothing to Drevorin; not gratitude, loyalty or any form of fidelity, but to indulge in an act of petty requital? That, I fear, is too low. Yes, it made me feel good at the time but that is how it begins, is it not? One engages in a single act of revenge, finds how good it feels and then, when retribution comes, one will indulge in another, on and on; a never-ending cycle of pointless and contemptible behaviour that results in naught but more of the same.
I may have found the will to use my training in self-defence now, but I refuse to fall prey to the vulture of vengeance. Having resolved not to be a victim to others, I cannot allow myself to become a victim to my own darker desires. I cannot give myself over to the obsidian claws of hatred. I cannot lose my heart, mind and spirit to the yawning pit of despair that has threatened to swallow me whole from that first day my father's wife raised her hand to me.
Still, in order to pull myself back from the brink, I must lighten the burden I carry. Drevorin has hurt me deeply and thus far I have been unable to forgive his actions. I know, though, that I must do so if I am to be free. Can I do this?
In time, most definately, but do I have time to waste? The longer this goes on, the more embittered I become about it and I find that I do not like feeling this way. Every day I suffer from this is one day, one step, closer to becoming the monster I have resisted for so many years.
With that in mind, I take up my blade once more and add one more scar to my collection.
