Winds of Chaos

Work settles the heart.

I have spent too long without an honest day creating something. Granted it was for free for a man who attempted wholeheartedly to con me out of my money, but fortifying our "benefactor"’s safe-house calmed my nerves more than I had anticipated. I don’t even regret supplying the materials. Something about working, in an honest capacity, with no bloodshed and no mixed motives and no ethical grey areas was soothing. Perhaps, once all of this insanity is complete, the winds of magic cease their howl, the children are safe, and we are all… whatever we desire to be, I will retire to a life of carpentry? Or perhaps metalwork? Or… Hm.

The dark daydreams have largely dissipated. Perhaps they were the result of too much guilt, or too much road-exhaustion, or a combination of the two. At any rate, I have settled back into my own skin, no longer feeling it is on loan to some darker power. I remain wary, but… it has been nice to reaffirm my grip on things. Unfortunately, I have also reaffirmed my grip onto the barely-coherent body of Nor, who has proven even without the full motor function of her tongue to be a nuisance.

No matter. She took care of me; I will do the same.



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