Month 14, Day 17, Hour 8
Morning is beautiful here, if only for the moment. Even this grey city, as Saint Marle would call it, has its bright corners, just as Ezra teaches us that there is hope in darkness. I hear the song of birds outside my window, and feel the summer breeze against my cheek. Again, thus, do the final words of the Fifth Scripture come back to me - "Glorious in the vestige of virtue, each soul a cleansed spark that would bring succor to the bleak Hollow. The Mists of Death come, and the flock absolved shalt be; in the flicker of life, and the shadow of death."
I know the Scripture of the Fifth by heart; many times have I studied it during my time in the Keep. Endeavoured to understand it, and sought a message of hope in its texts. At the time, as my Saint Marle explained to me, that the spirit fills every fibre of our being, and not simply our heart or mind. This was the teaching of Bastion Sarlota Otrava, of course, she said, and thus it was why we would bear the lashmarks upon our ownselves, purifying our spirit of our sins. To me, sin represents the mistakes every mortal soul would do in his or her lifetime. Intentionally or not. Just as those who have committed crimes out of malicious, purposeful intent, so should they repent and absolve themselves of their mistakes if they truly regretted what they have done before. And so I sit here, wondering again the crimes against Vallaki that Wurtbeich - dare I say again, Bastion Wurtbeich? - committed. I know now that the records of his misdeeds are true, but what of its circumstance? How indeed did Wurtbeich receive such a revelation from Ezra? Was it a coincidental result of his guilt over having performed such a hideous, cruel act that led him a new insight to pen such words, urging us to accept ourselves as less-than-perfect beings and turn to Ezra for succor? If that is true, then why are these words that he has authored, seem on retrospect, so frightening, confusing?
...My thoughts now turn to Miss Lyndis, whom I truly hope that You, oh Ezra, will extend, in Your infinite compassion, a hand to protect her from the ills that haunt her in these dark days. Perhaps I ought to applaud her efforts to speak out, to attempt to change things for the better. If only those of the Home Faith and of the Pure Hearted had more of such courage as she...! But I fear she is but a seashell adrift in the open sea, and now the tide has turned against her. I pray, oh Ezra, that You may give her the peace and love she deserves for such a woman of courage.
I must pen here the regret I feel for last evening, whereby my actions contributed to such an unpleasant and abrupt end to my friends' enjoyment of a late wine and supper. However I will do anything in the name of defense, for my friends, and not in the least Sylas. I cannot imagine what Lady Bianca must have been thinking when she employed that waitress! ...The girl seems too familiar....was it Camila..? I remember clearly that voice; just a few nights ago she seemed to be very helpful to Wulf and Sylas when we kept watch outside for vroloks. Still...there is no excuse for discrimination, and indeed it was -I- who paid the coin, and so should that girl have served Sylas the same soup as she did Raul and I! ..and let us not, of course, forget that barbarian Kayne, whose insinuations against me will turn on their heads and bite him back someday. Until then, I hope he enjoys the dishwater soup that I threw in his arrogant face.
I am grateful to Raul for being in my company of late. Though I have come to understand him a little more, and he is not as shallow as he makes out to be, I fear very much for his life if he should spend too much time in my company. Celor has attempted to remind me of the very same thing, but I do not like the way he tries to make me feel guilty for "converting" Raul. I think it not a very fair thing to say, for it was Raul's own choice to seek this calling. ...In addition, I find it infinitely odd that Celor should advise me to speak to Dagon about my Saint Marle's attacker, instead of telling me the name himself when he so clearly knows. Perhaps he does not fathom the dangers I would run into if I reveal myself to one of the Fifth's brethren.
And yet...I should mention that there is slowly a little less reason for me to hide as much as I do. I long for the freedom to answer when a friend calls out my name, and I admit I have done so sometimes when I think it is safe. I am only human, Ezra...forgive me, for this road is so long. I am lost, but ever Your faithful, and seek Your guiding hand.