Celestial Radiance in Darkest Shade

[ASymphony]

Day 1:


I have no idea what year is even counted in these lands, this Barovia. It is the early morning hours, as I am writing this, sitting in what appears to be the most expensive establishment of this town, Vallaki.
Yesterdays events run through my head. Awakening near that camp, meeting a woman I was sure meant me ill, but swiftly introduced me to others without whom I would have had no bearing of the world around me.
A little I hve learned since then. The landmass I am on is the core, this country is Barovia, ruled by one Count Strahd. I learned the names of a number of different countries, all utterly unfamiliar to me.

The ceremonial gown I wore yesterday lies in tatters. I used it to bandage poor Edmund after our unfortunate encounter with the gray furred werewolf. I still wonder about the old woman we met in that wagon. I wonder if the zherisian family will find what it is looking for in this country. And I wonder, is Ayailla still looking at me? I can not feel her anymore. This... scares me. She still appears to answer my prayers as the magic I still wield proves but beyond that, it almost feels like she is not there any more.

For now though, there is little enough I can do beyond move on. I need to get my bearings, and then find out, what to do. Maybe this all is some sort of test. If so, I shan't fail it.

[ASymphony]

Day 2:

I explored a good part of the country today, foremost with Edmund, later with others. We faced strange, clawed beasts, kobolds, massive beetles. I saw death, when we set off a trap. And the return of life into these bodies. I have seen it before, back home, though this marks the first time I have witnessed both death and return in the same day. Later then, we went werewolf-hunting with Joslyn, finding some caves to the north, filled with worgs, which we suspect may be harboring something deeper below, though we did not push on. Too great the risk when even the regular wolves - and worgs - we faced still threatened to overwhelm us.

We headed on, and.. found something. I am not going to commit it to these pages for I know not who may find them. It worries me. Something is out there, and I know not its identity, or goals. And what fear is greater, than the fear of the unknown?

I shall not let it grow hold of me. The light, still shines within me.

[ASymphony]

A thought occurred to me after a conversation earlier. A terrible oversimplification, but one I could not help but make nevertheless.

While the Barovians lock doors and windows to keep out the creatures of the night, the dementlieuse seem to try and lock them out of their minds. I do wonder what that says about this land.

[ASymphony]

Three clients so far, two repeats likely to come, one more lined up. Its not much of course, but still, more than I necessarily believed would take me up on my offer to be their personal stranger. Different as they were, there are common enough themes, much as I had expected. I can not solve their problems. Neither did I expect I could. Yet, it does seem to help, at least for a while. And I expect that is the best I can hope for.

It has been suggested to me at various occasions, that I should take coin for my services. This would create a certain distance to the clients, making more willing to take me up. This concept, while I understand it, seems strange to me. I feel it may be wrong to take coin from something I give freely. And it might leave out the poor, something I desire to avoid. So... for the time being, I shall move on as I have. And hope that with every time I listen, some of their wounds close.

[ASymphony]

Nothing. This is the most honest summary of my search for the last two months. Some theories on the nature of the world, and others beyond, various theories on possible forces behind the mists, to the dubious records of the ezrite church - the few things I could gleam at least.

Ultimately, the sum of all I have read so far gives the distinct impression that there is no way out. Or at least none that has been recorded. Part of me wants to believe that being here is part of a mission, that Ayailla chose me to try and bring light to this place. Another, that this is a trial of some form. I try and tell myself that. But ultimately, I don't believe it. These are flights of fancy, and Ayailla would not simply ignore my calls while still providing me with magic. Something is wrong. This world is wrong.

I need to get out of here.

[ASymphony]

There is an old tradition on Allamaein. Familial names are not common, for where one comes from, is not as important as what one aspires to be. So, our parents give us a byname, chosen from the old tongue. Children may, as they grow up, replace them with something more fitting. I do not believe mine fits me, but what would I replace it with? I will never live up to it. I can not, live up to it. To pursue that notion would be foolishness. And I have had my experiences with foolishness. They are the reason for the light cramp I am feeling while writing these lines after all, still unused to the missing fingers in this regard.

Eylanverra. I do not think, I ever will.

[ASymphony]

"This is a city of masks." This paraphrases a multitude of similar sentiments I have seen expressed and thought about throughout the last few weeks. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. Even back home, in my distant little village on its mountain, there was that notion. No one is quite who they seem to be, because most of us at least, shape up when we step out in the world out there, do not say certain things in some circles that we might in others or out of respect for others or simply because it is easier.

Sometimes these masks go a step further. Everyone knew that Sarahel Sarella was sleeping with the traveller who was staying in the village for a few days. Yet it was not spoken about - not in public of course, yet everyone knew. Everyone knew everyone knew. There might possibly have been arguments about this in the home of the mayor, but when weren't there? Everyone acted as if this had not happened. Because the societal decision of my five hundred souls village, not including multitudes of cows, pigs, chickens and goats, was that what could not happen can't have happened. So everyone put up their mask and breaching the illusion openly was the greatest sin.

This is ultimately human, maybe humanoid, nature. Big things and small things. We do not often tell our friends that the combination of colours they so enjoy is a hideous abomination, or... more serious matters.


As a priestess, I am well enough aware of the game of pretenses. It is a necessity. And yet, sometimes I wish I could call down the light of the goddess on this place, to, for just a moment, wash away all the lies, the self-righteousness away from people. Including myself, for yes, I all too easily participate in these things now. I lied yesterday. Oh, of course, one could say it was not technically a lie. But the truth is that the truth does not usually need to be partnered with "it was not technically". I need to find a way to take of this mask, if only for a little while.

Hear me Ayailla,
one of your souls calls out.
The truth of your light,
even though it remains in my heart,
is needed much.

What can I do in this dark,
but to carry my light,
and hope,
I can carry it into the hearts of others.

[ASymphony]

My dearest speaker is gone. Of all the people I have met during that period where I listened, few have tested my convictions as much as the dearest speaker did. And yet, they held. Much of my confidence is owed to that, though the dearest speaker shall likely never know this. I hope she finds happiness. There was one matter between the two of us, one thing done I am not sure I should have. But it is done, and my regrets are merely professional ones, not personally.

Ayailla, if my voice still reaches you, shine a little light on this soul, I think, at least something inside her may appreciate it. Ayailla... I do hope a hint of light reached her through me. A hint that lasts. Warmth and radiance. It is likely a little arrogant and selfish of me to write this, as I look upon these lines again. The ink not yet even dry. An expression to cover other emotions.

The truth is that expression of such is difficult, in particular given that, even if this may be written in a tongue unfamiliar to probably almost anyone in this land, one can never be entirely sure in who's hands such writing might end up.

Be well out there, my dearest speaker.

Maybe I should get out of bed today.