Author Topic: Lucian Vărzaru - Home is where I Roam  (Read 776 times)

FinalHeaven

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Lucian Vărzaru - Home is where I Roam
« on: April 12, 2020, 03:51:31 AM »
[This journal seems well-worn and outright damaged, with some pages torn out or partially shredded.  In addition, it seems as though the author must have changed at some point - as the topics within shift from detailing the life of a Sargent in the Wachter Militia to something else entirely...]

[The first new entry comes after a handful of grimy blank pages.]

My apologies for stealing your journal, father, but in some way your words will surely help with what I wish to accomplish.  Before that, though, I wanted you to know that I found Miri.  I won't ruin your memory of her by going into details but I will say that I believe she is at peace now she rests.

I'm also getting married.  Her name is Liss and I think I probably don't deserve the patience she's given me.  Or the sacrifices she's made, and may still make.  I'm going to give her the ring you made for Miri.  I've made a lot of mistakes in my quest to make sure that Miri isn't forgotten but this much at least seems innocent enough.

I shouldn't have left.  I wonder if I'd stayed if we could have found her together.  Sooner.  The Corvara would say that this is Fate, that it was meant to be this way and no other.  But I'm only half Corvara so I will just say...

I shouldn't have left.





FinalHeaven

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Re: Lucian Vărzaru - Home is where I Roam
« Reply #1 on: April 15, 2020, 01:42:58 AM »
I lied in my last entry.  It bothers me, yet the curse I bear only seems to effect my speech.  Yes, I am cursed.  Would you think me a fool, father?  I have the feeling you would.  I swore an oath to some of Miri's people and failed to deliver what I promised.  It was not intentional, the failure, but it caused them to be unable to mend a rift of sorrow.  It's for this reason that I carry the curse willingly.  In fact, I carried it when I found her.  I believe that is part of the reason she paused before striking me, before breaking into tears.

Sorry.  I said I wouldn't ruin your memory of her.

I've been told that I have beckoned watchful eyes.  That which should not be known or alerted.  This, mind you, is not a part of the curse.  It is something else, something due to my reunion with Miri.  I'm not scared.  In fact, when I consider it, I don't feel much of anything.

In case you don't believe me a complete fool just yet I will add that I intend to save Miri's tribe from the evil that hounds them.  I don't think I could explain why, even with all of the pages left in this journal.  There is a word in the patterna, marhime.  It means unclean, and I suspect this his how the Vistani see me now until the curse is washed away - if it ever is.  It doesn't matter.  What matters is I cannot have the blood of women and children on my hands.

I'm hoping that Lucky Lucian still has some luck left.

[The bottom half of this page seems to contain one word written over several times.]


Shalach-ti
Shalach-ti
   Shalach-ti...



FinalHeaven

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Re: Lucian Vărzaru - Home is where I Roam
« Reply #2 on: March 01, 2021, 07:49:27 PM »
I am coming to an ending now, father.  Is it finality, or just the end of one chapter and the beginning of another?  I don't know.  I had hoped to write more here, some words of wisdom or encouragement should this journal ever make it into the hands of another Half-blood.  But as my time runs out I'm beginning to understand that anything I could say, any hints about where we belong that I have learned - they're all meaningless. 

We may not be true Vistana but we're all wanderers at heart, and those who wander never walk a straight path.  I think this is what madame Vadoma meant when she said I wouldn't like the answers I found if I went digging.  If I rob my kin of their own paths by telling them the secrets I've learned then they will crave more, and more, and more - as I did.  Better to make the journey unknowing, to gain the wisdom of experience so that their choices are their own and not manipulated by an unquenchable thirst of the unknown.  That is how we find our Home.  That is how we find where we belong.  By living, by defining our own place in the world.

Home is something you make, not something you find.  I wish I'd have understood that sooner.  I hold no ill will toward madame Vadoma any longer.  She tried to warn me and I chose not to listen.  Choices, then, are what link us all together.  As long as we giomorgo understand we share that link, we'll never truly be alone.

I will offer one item of aid to any brethren that may walk a similar path as mine.  The origin of the Vistani people as sung by the clans of the Boem Tasque, written as is and without my own thoughts.

Interpret it as you will, brothers and sisters.  Learn from it.  But do not let it rule you.


The Splintering
Why do you wander, O maker of music?
Why do your strings weep?
Why do you starve?

Because I have no home.
Because I have no hope.
Because I have no harvest to reap.

Where are your roots, O wandering slave?
Where are your ancestors?
Where are your gardens of plenty?

Torn from the soil.
Torn from the memory.
Torn from the feeble hands of my children.

How can this be, O tearful wretch?
How can this happen?
How can this go on?

Because I murdered my friend.
Because I murdered my comfort.
Because I murdered my place in the sun.

Why did you do this, O miserable one?
Why did you murder?
Why did you kill the one you called friend?

He stole my true love.
He stole my own heart.
He stole my only reason to live.

What will you do, O cursed fool?
What will you suffer?
What will you do to make ammends?

Nothing but wander.
Nothing but starve.
Nothing but play my melancholy violin.

When will it end, O pitiable fetch?
When will it rest?
When will it all be over for you?

Never, never, never, never, never...

To my friends, endari-vitir.
All Paths Converge.
« Last Edit: March 01, 2021, 07:52:06 PM by FinalHeaven »



FinalHeaven

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Re: Lucian Vărzaru - Home is where I Roam
« Reply #3 on: December 13, 2021, 01:20:09 AM »
[Many pages following the last entry seem to be covered in incoherent scrawling, some of which are torn or shredded.
 One remains, however, and while it seems written by a troubled hand it is at least legible.]

The end is coming, and a new beginning.  Tselikov's whispering is now an incessant droning, like metal grating against metal.
 I don't know if I'll be able to push it aside much longer, and so I will make this simple.

It was seeing Rahimus that gave me pause.  His reminder that Dante would never have given up fighting, if he'd been alive.  And then I found Lucien and Saffron at Dante's grave not a day later, and I admit, it seemed like Fate.  Like I could find another way.

I do not believe that the Vistani will allow me answers to my final questions.  But perhaps, even then, the simple act of trying to speak to them a final time will serve some purpose.  If not for me, at the very least for those who bear witness.  As long as I can shed the whispers for long enough.

I'm sorry, Liss.  Serena.  Everyone.

The ritual site must be cleansed, and this foolish mage who tampers with it stopped.

I would like my swords and this journal to be given to Liss, to be kept until the day she finds another halfbreed who needs guidance in life.

I would like my father's spirit to be put to rest.

I would like for the Winterstars to find their way home.  The Corvara owe them a debt, and it should be remembered and pursued.

I would like my remains - whatever the outcome - to be left on Dante's hill.

Endari-vitir.
« Last Edit: December 13, 2021, 01:24:32 AM by FinalHeaven »