Shadows, knives and hearts
It happened all to fast. Before I could react and prevent the disaster, Sekhet was laying dead on the ground. A hollowed out snake tooth filled with venom, as I learned it later.
Crowds are nest of vipers are asps. Anyone could have been the killer.
An old man was taken into custody. A well-known caliban instigator, expendable, aged, a perfect candidate for the Snakes to have him mind controlled for the deed.
The Merchant fears for his life. Pharazzah is their final destination. They are long gone by now as I am writing these lines.
And Isu. She gave me the creeps. A large ruby ring pulsating on her finger drinking in the light as she whispered her vision. Shadows and knives. A decision to be made. Loss. Pain.
I fear for Kaeyna. The Snakes strike at the soft spots. They move in the shadows.
It will be quite some time before I can train enough skilled rangers to be useful against these shadows lurking.
Simon is a fool, his assumptions compromising the safety of my Queen of hearts. He fails to understand the meaning of Subtlety, discretion.
Next time I hear him talking about me to anyone, I make sure he will be one tongue less. He played his last chance. He has a long way ahead to become a proper ranger. But maybe losing his tongue will be a good mentor.
The Circles are on the move. Observe, track, learn. The Wayfarers are thinned and scattered. It has many advantages. I need only the best of the best, those who are capable to survive. The weak are consumed by the land. Only the useful remain.
[The following lines added a little later, a very different ink and handwriting, almost as some mantra, copied and copied again over and over through three pages]
The Hunter is void of emotion,
The solidarity falls first.
Compassion the next.
Devotion makes Him fail.
And all the others come for the rest.
The Hunter observers and learns.
And he earns no recognition.
He is the tool in the Cycle. Not the judge.
As he is the tool in the Cycle. Not the judge.
He is a tool, not a judge.