If my days are numbered, then someone has counted incorrectly. Nothing I have
done has led me to deserve this torture. Respected I was. Alone I am. Buried
I will be. After all these years they have finally stripped me of my dignity,
leaving me standing nearly naked in this accursed gloom.

Nearly every inhabitant of this Basin believes me to be dead. Except them.
Without physical evidence of my departure from this world, I will remain
hunted. My actions, even the slightest footstep, hang in the balance of my
survival. For they are watching. I feel it as the wind ruffles my hair. The
trees seem to have eyes and I believe that I will never be truly safe again.

It used to be different; my life that is. I had been a saluted bookbinder, the
top in my trade. A grand manor where I used to call home. Yet above all else
stood my lovely, ravishing wife. Her hair was the Sun, showering me with our
passion for one another. But now those books lie in shreds. The manor is
naught but ashes. And the glory of my wife's radiance has been put out, like a
never-ending night.

If I get murdered, I doubt anyone would care. My legacy is but a mere
footprint upon this Basin which will soon be scattered by the winds of time.
Lies have always fed us, making us believe that we will somehow be able to be
remembered in this world. In reality, an endless mirror reflects our thoughts,
actions, and emotions, convincing us that something is on the other side of
Fate. That looking glass cannot be shattered and we shall always see what is,
but never what is yet to come. We may see traces of others in this mirror,
those who came before us, but the winds of time will eventually fog the past.
Memory is all that will be able to be relied on. But what happens when that
memory fades? All is lost; held victim to Fate's eternal grasp.

I will start at the beginning as it is easiest to write and it brings me the
least pain. For my heart aches with anguish from the memories I so wish to
permanently expel from my mind.

It was early Dvarsh when they struck…

The day was exactly similar to the many before it. In fact, one might say that
things were better than usual. The orders for my immaculate books and scrolls
piled high and my business was thoroughly thriving. With great care and
diligence I bound my masterpieces, each one forever marked with the symbol of
my expertise. For every request I fulfilled, I recorded the information in a
small, leather-bound compendium. The entries ended on the 5th of Dvarsh, when
I found a disturbing note amidst the other papers on my desk.

Following my reading of the note, the parchment slipped from my grasp onto the
cold, stone floor. Shaking uncontrollably, I seated myself on a ravenwood
chair. Thousands of thoughts muddled my mind as my insides churned like the
Inner Sea during a vicious storm.

On the thin paper, in a scrawled hand that suggested urgency, were the
following words:

News has reaches us of your success, Reditrus, and it should be noted that all
of your friends have abandoned you. If you ever wish to see your wife again,
you must do as we say. You have a single weave, until midnight on the 5th of
Dvarsh. After that, if we do not see 850,000 gold sovereigns in our hands,
your beloved mate will be sleeping with the worms in an endless slumber.
~Goldenquill

The members of the Goldenquill had once been my colleagues, as close as
brothers. But that was before the Taint came and corrupted the land, sparking
rivalries among friends and burning the pathways of friendship between
governments.

My aura of fear quickly left me only to be replaced by a demon of anger in my
heart, barely contained by the bones in my chest. I wanted these men dead.
How was I going to come up with their required ransom? Even as a distinguished
bookbinder, my wages were meager. Everything I owned had once belonged to my
father, including the manor, thus giving the impression that I had large
abundances of wealth.

Using my intellect, I realized that there was a way that I could save her. My
reasoning was that I could sell my elegant manor and pay the ransom with the
gold I received in return. Granted, it would be near impossible to find a
buyer on such short notice, but there were a few high-ranking officials in the
Basin that may be interested. It was the only way. The house built by man can
be destroyed and reassembled, but the temple created by love can never be
repaired if the foundations are removed.

Her face brought joy to my heart and warmed the innermost corners of my soul.
I could not imagine life without her vitality and comfort. One might conclude
that we were two rivers joined in marriage, with unalterable courses, and
flowing forever together until time drove us apart. Now I see that the Fates
are not so kind and now, instead of freely streaming with my mate, I must fight
time itself to save her from my enemies. How cruel the Fates can be…

Thinking back to the note, I recalled that today was indeed the 5th of Dvarsh,
meaning that the gold was needed today. Not only that, but already the shadows
were lengthening. As quickly as I could, I gathered my belongings and rushed
out the door. The brightness of the day was a drastic difference to my dusty
office. Using one hand to shield my eyes, I decided to wait for my eyes to
adjust before continuing on, despite the circumstances.

A sharp pain shot up my leg. At first I thought it was a hornet or possibly a
peck from a wandering chicken. But something was not right. My eyes, still
scarred from their meeting with Father Sun's rays, rolled back in their sockets
as the morphite seeped through my veins.

Unconsciousness took hold and I feel back into the nothingness of my mind.

Nightmares marred my dreams. I was surrounded by orc elders from the Ruins of
Shallach, who scoffed and spat at my being. I tried to run away and escape the
torment but I found myself unable to do so. And then, all at once, a legion of
spiders came scurrying from a bottomless hole and began using my body as a
banquet. My screams were drowned out by the jeering from the elders as my
flesh was painfully ripped from my bones. Soon, I was a mere skeleton, but I
would not die. I begged for them to finish me there, to let me get rid of the
pain, but all they did was laugh…

Abruptly I awoke, my ears still ringing from the dream. My body was stiff and
it hurt to move. The darkness of Mother Night's shroud consumed any joyful
thought I had left. The darkness…

With much effort I managed to stand. My left leg was throbbing. Glancing
down, I saw a small dart protruding from my appendage. A short shriek of pain
escaped my lips as I removed the projectile. A sickly goo dripped off the end
of the needle and was absorbed into the earth, innocently retreating its malice
with no remorse.

My feet carried me automatically as they began to take me home. Although I was
a part of the Forest of Glomdoring, my home and workplace were near Magnagora.
My mind, however, was on different matters. I had to figure out a way to keep
my possessions and still save my wife. Her perfect image leapt to my
attention. Was she alright? Where was she now? My pace quickened.

Just then, my ears were filled with a new ringing as the Bell Tower in
Magnagora tolled, heralding the coming of midnight. Much to my dismay, its
bells were accompanied by the cheers of its citizens, oblivious to the torture
afflicting me. As I stopped moving, my heart did as well. Each ring of the
bells felt like a slender dagger piercing my gut, slashing the ties that bound
my wife and me in marriage.

The next few minutes felt like a lifetime. I opened the oak door to our manor
and ran up the stairs to the study. The doorknob rattle as my shaking hand
enclosed around it. Slowly I pushed open the door… right into a pool of red.
Veronika lay there, lifeless, staining the turquoise carpet crimson with her
blood. Her Faeling wings were crumpled underneath her body, never to fly
again. All of my strength, my resolve, my sternness, collapsed around me as I
became vulnerable to my emotions.

The tears flowed freely as I cried.

The last chance for me to pass on my honorable name was lying before my eyes.

"Curse you Sun!" I shouted. "You trick me with Your light! Why?! Tell me
why!"

Through my clouded vision I noticed an identical parchment to the one found in
my office. Without hesitation I picked it up and read its contents:

"Down with the Taint." was all it said.

So this was how it was going to end then, at the hands of some old friends,
killing for their beliefs. I personally did not believe in the Taint, which
made this even more unnerving. People may call Magnagora and the Forest of
Glomdoring "Taint", but I refused to concede. But alas, my opinions do not
matter do they? It didn't stop them from murdering my most cherished thing in
life, did it? Sadly, the Basin will not stop to honor my beliefs.

"Why make me suffer?" I asked to a nonexistent enemy. "What is my crime?
Living? Then finish what you've started! I'm right here! What are you
waiting for?"

This last roar reverberated through the empty manor. I crumpled the note and
threw it angrily into the pool. Its face quickly became tarnished, much like
what my life was becoming. Then it dawned on me.

"I have to run. I'm not safe here, or anywhere. The evidence if this incident
all points to me. Everything from me leaving early, then not returning home."

The tears were persistent and began welling up in my eyes again. I reverently
took the torch down from the wall and with a farewell kiss I tossed it onto the
rug. As the flames kept rising I said my farewells.

"I love you Veronika and I expect I will be seeing you soon. Wait for me and
know that you will remain with me forever in my heart."

I left the house with only my coat and a small knife, and I started walking
down Ackleberry Highway towards New Celest, the exact place I wanted to avoid.
I figured that Celest would be the last place that any of them would look for
me. If I was being watched, I took no notice. I was too engulfed in my wife's
death that I hardly perceived anything at all. Even in the night, the silence
was unnatural. Nothing moved except me. It was as if the whole Basin stopped
to mourn for me and my wife's passing. I knew this was not the case, but the
thought gave me a retreat of comfort amidst the turmoil.

I glanced over my shoulder in order to decipher whether or not I was being
followed. My eyes saw no stalker or malevolent demon, but rather my gaze
became fixed upon the looming peaks of the mountains. Their rough and jagged
edges which ripped the horizon reminded me of my torn life which was now devoid
of happiness. As they towered above, the mountains seemed to hang over my head,
ready to crush my physical being. They could not destroy my mind, however, as
it was already hopelessly mangled with my grief.

Walking past the Estengare River, I noticed that some of the water was not
following the normal path. I didn't realize what was happening until the
currents formed a complete circle around me, trapping me from escape. The
rushing water tantalized me as I backed up into the center of the ring.

It was the demesne of an Aquamancer, and it was pure havoc.

I thanked the Gods that I was a Shadowcaster Faeling and I pumped my wings hard
and rose into the firmament. To no avail. A typhoon arose from the water and
knocked me down to the moist earth. I groaned as my body hit the ground with a
soft thud. Mustering my strength, I attempted to stand but a tidal wave emerged
and thrust me to the mud. I looked up helplessly at the swirling water, wishing
there was something I could do to save myself. Lately it seemed that I could
not save anybody, and remembering this, my morale vanished. A swarm of jellies
erupted from the torrent and commenced stinging me. Their writhing tentacles
lashed out at my unprotected body, each one leaving their mark of devastation.
Soon my body had what appeared to be a shell of welts.

I sensed my mind power faltering so I summoned the last of my reserves to cast
a protective circle around me. A piercing rain, falling like sharp needles,
obliterated my magical shield, the last protection I had.

Yet, through fading eyes I saw signs of the demesne breaking. And, I noticed
the Merian responsible for this devilry. I removed my knife from the pocket of
my coat, praying to the Gods for precision, and I hurled it accurately at my
assailant; a final act of desperation.

The Merian gasped his last and fell backward, with a dagger in his chest. The
demesne shattered with unmatched power and as the currents retreated back to
their endless highway, their might pulled me into the river. I did not resist
because I didn't think there was anything on the Basin nor any of the Planes
that was worth living for. My eyes glossed over and I sank into
unconsciousness for a second time.

I awoke to the sound of waves lapping on the shore of the Inner Sea. My lungs
were filled with water and I coughed painfully until my breathing became
stabilized. The salt on my lips reminded me that I hadn't eaten for nearly an
entire weave. I moved to get up and, like a slap in the face, the events of
the past day flooded my mind. Feebly, I attempted to push the hurtful images
out of my head, to forget the horrors of the previous day. Unable to bear it,
I surrendered myself to the exhaustion that plagued me.

It took several days for me to be able to move again. Even now there are scars
that serve as reminders to my face-to-face encounter with death. I continue to
live by the shore, a hermit if you will, fishing to eat and trying to push the
past away.

However, it didn't take me long to realize that no matter what I did or how
much the memories upset me, there was no way to forget what had happened. It
was as if an invisible shield surrounded my head, keeping all of my
recollections at bay. Sometimes I wondered about the past. That is, if I
could've saved my darling Veronika, altered the future, and changed how I am at
the present. I have begun to doubt my credibility as a Faeling just because
that I couldn't prevent her passing from this world. Not only that, but I felt
that my soul was now riding on this fact, and that her death was ultimately my
fault.

This brings the story to the current time. I have not met up with the
murderers since then, and their motives remain a mystery. Personally, I
believe that it wasn't about the gold. Instead, fear struck their hearts as a
blacksmith's hammer strikes the sword. They were afraid of being lower than
me, of constantly being beaten and they wanted to take matters into their own
hands.

Right now I am gazing out to the Inner Sea. Father Sun is setting now, and His
beauty is entirely absorbed by my gaze. Yes, I have made amends with Sun; for I
know He meant no harm. Yet He is still mysterious and I am drawn to His bright
power.

I am now wading into the water. The soothing currents wash away all of my
tension and let me enter a state of deep relaxation. Finally, peace is within
my grasp. It always has been, but I've never seen it before. Blinding by the
truth I was, for Nature can heal my soul.

The water has progressed up to my chest. I can feel soft points of pressure on
my legs and thighs, the evidence of fish nibbling on my body. I do not mind.
In fact, I value their presence and company. I inhaled deeply and let the
sensory aroma of the sea air fill me with its grace.

The water is now at my neck. I stopped here and let the moist sand caress my
feet. I am going back to Nature. Created in Nature, and nothing left except
it, I must return to my roots. Maybe if Veronika were still alive, the outcome
of my life would have been different. Then again, if my beloved Veronika hadn't
been murdered, none of this would've happened. Maybe it was for the best.
After all, I have gained much knowledge in my learning of Sun and the Sea.
Perhaps this truly was meant to be. I closed my fatigued eyes and retreated
from every bit of my regret.

A wave pushed the water over my head and I continued on with Father Sun as my
beacon of comfort towards the unity of Nature.