I am so tired, so very tired. I have tried to sleep but I cannot. I simply remain awake, staring up at the ceiling whilst my eyes burn and my heart weeps for the recent tragedies. Perhaps I should not have pushed myself so hard; two rituals in one day is not an easy feat. However, it was necessary.
The first was a farewell to Esfin, a simple yet elegant affair. I knelt atop the cliff, singing my grief to the wind and the sky. It took hours to enact, but I think the omens were good. The crows feathers fell as they should, away down the cliff and into the water below. The lock of horse-hair to signify his heritage drifted away like spun gold on the breeze. The last, the most important, the white feathers spiralled upwards before me. I had worried that they might not, that my choice of place may effect the outcome for it was only a short distance away that my friend lost his life. I could smell the blood from where I sat, I could feel the anger and the pain, but it seemed to me that if I did the ritual here, I may be able to dispel at least a little of the poison permeating the area.
When it was done, I felt drained, numb, but I could not rest. I had another ritual to prepare for. Lustwyn needed to be freed from the influences that held her and I could not allow myself to fail again. Weary as I was, I did as I had to for the upcoming sacrifice, willing my mind to a stillness that it did not want. Luckily, I was not required to do much more than enter a trance and chant. I do not truly know the workings of the blood magics as does my mother. I have learned only a little from her, and even then it is only for specific purposes, such as farewells or protection. I have no wish to know any more than that.
It was a success, I think. Lustwyn seemed much happier in herself when it was over. At least to begin with. I felt sorry for the chicken, but it performed two noble services in one day; first as a part of the ritual, for the blood of an innocent was needed, and secondly as dinner. Alas, I was unable to partake of the meal for, exhausted though I was by that time, I was forced to chase after a fleeing Lustwyn.
Her insecurities weigh heavily upon me at times. It is such hard work to constantly reassure her and deal with her tantrums, especially when I am so physcially and mentally drained. I realise that the thought of being without friends scares her, but I cannot spend all of my time assuring her that she will not lose me simply because a man smiled in my direction or my mother mentions her wish to return to Aughaire.
Throughout all of this, I remain fearful for Cyfier. I have not seen him in many days. I begin to believe that he avoids me now. Perhaps he has no wish to face me, knowing that by his hand I have lost a friend. Perhaps he simply has no further use for me. In truth, I must ask myself if I wish to see him.
My recent talk with a woman of his House, along with another I held with Lustwyn later the same eve, have brought me to the conclusion that I may care for this man a little too much. In light of recent events, could I truly bear to look upon his countenance and see naught but death within his eyes?
That thought scares me. Where once a light shone, will there be naught but darkness now? Is there blood on his hands because poison runs through his veins? I fear to find out, yet I must know. I must know if there is still a chance, however small, of redemption.
