How could everything change in just a day? How can I feel so proud and confident and then suddenly so scared, humiliated and unsure?
It all started so innocently. Shy and I were talking in the Lady’s Rest, and the very nice innkeeper there asked us to help with an errand to Kroftburg. I jumped at the opportunity—a chance to travel and see more of this land. Shy and I quickly agreed, but it was night so we talked a while and then rested.
We shared a room but only in the sense that we were in it together. He was gracious and allowed me to rest first, then I let him sleep. He was a perfect gentleman and I do not think he has any intentions towards me anyway. I can’t tell how old he is, but with that shock of white hair, I wonder if he could be my father. I recall someone kissing him in the church as well, though it was my first night, and in the chaos of that evening, my memory could be faulty. Regardless, he is always interesting to talk to and—
Why do I spend so much time on Shy when there is so much more to tell? I do not...know....
In any event, just as we’re about to leave on our errand, out of nowhere, he says he has to go. That someone is in trouble and he has to help them. I have no idea how we would know, but he was adamant, and just like that, I was alone. I know little of men but his behavior certainly hasn’t help my understanding.
Well, I decided I wasn’t going to let the innkeeper down so I followed her directions and went south from Vallaki across a rope bridge hopefully towards Kroftburg. Only…I never made it. I must have missed a road. But I DID find the dwarven city of Dvergeheim. A curious place, with constant earthquakes brought forth by a mysterious crystal that seemed to have its own kind of terrible beauty. But the city has its own kind of charm, and I found the people friendlier than those in Vallaki.
Despite my mistake, the whole thing made me immensely proud. It was a tough journey, raining the whole time, nearly pitch dark, and I had to avoid a snake attack as well! Given that Shy gives me a look anytime I even talk about stepping foot outside, and how everyone warns me about being safe (I swear, I must look like a little girl!), I felt immensely proud to have made it all by myself. Me! With just my sling and some rations.
And then everything fell apart.
I returned to Vallaki, hoping to find Shy and get better directeions. But before I decided to explore the city a bit. I came across an abandoned house, and I thought I heard crying voices coming from inside. With my newly found confidence, I decided to investigate.
If only I had turned around to find the market as I had intended. I will regret that decision for a very long time, I think.
I don’t even remember much. There was a trapdoor. A ladder. Something…some sort of creature in the darkness. And then I woke up in a cell, surrounded by dead bodi---
I still can’t think about that part. There were men, but one turned into…a rat? They were going to sell me into slavery, but my mind, grasping for anything, remembered something the innkeeper told me about the burgomaster of Villaki. I yelled his name, told them they would be sorry. Then there was fighting, and some man…a wizard, a Hazlani…he….he freed me. Led me up to the surface. We talked. I barely remember. The whole thing is a blur.
Only I was out in the farmlands at night. There were creatures. I can barely describe them. My heart was pounding. It was a full moon. I suddenly realized WHY everyone told me to stay inside at night.
I was going to die if they saw me. Unbidden, a song from my youth to my mind—Hilga and the Disappearing Witch. I always loved that song. For some reason, I started humming it and…and…just like that, I was…gone! Invisible, I think. They couldn’t see me. Similar things happened when I thought about running faster and needing light. I just thought of songs, and sang or hummed them quietly, and—
What am I? Did the mists change me? Is this my mother’s doing? Did that wizard change me?
Everything that I used to know, I am unsure of now. I am scared of the dark and I am scared to sleep—for I only dream of dead bodies, their faces staring at me. I am scared to sing or think of songs because I don’t know what’s going to happen. I am scared to tell people, because of what they might do to me, especially here in Barovia.
And worst of all, I’m scared because I’m not thinking of Will.
I’m not scared for him anymore.
I’m scared for myself.