View source for 04.23.06 Journal Entry (short story)

{{Creative-work
|author-displayed=player of [[Charna Ja'Varrel'Kav]]
|title=The Definition of Evil
|author=Charna Ja'Varrel'Kav
|date=2022-01-25
|type=short story
}}
The Definition of Evil

She lay quietly in the soft furs and layered pelts that had always fashioned her bed and listened to the soft song that rolled through her head.   It was always there now, drowning out the screams and memories of war. It sang louder than the nightmares that plagued her, and even muting the Shore of Dreams as they cajoled to sleepers.

Now that she had learned to control the hunger, and taught the shadows that they were hers to bend -- Not, as some had thought, that she was there’s to bend – she had found a new, fresh outlook on life.  And the possibilities that spread before her seemed endless.

She felt truly free for the first time in a long time.  She was alive again and oddly disconnected from the petty things that happened around her.  Fear was behind her, her pain gone as well.

Like a butterfly discarded its chrysalis, she felt that the child was gone and a woman had finally emerged in its place.  Still wide-eyed and wondering, but somehow less naïve and stronger than ever she had thought possible.

She had thought at first when the war had ended and she felt hollow inside, that she’d never know what it was to be her own person and to feel like she belonged.  Now, in the caress of the shadow’s song, she knew she didn’t need to belong anywhere.  She was who she was and nothing could pull her from that, nothing could shake it.

As if to acknowledge that thought, the shadows twitched around her and she knew the cold of the grave.  She didn’t shiver, the cold wasn’t to be feared, but smiled instead. 

Since the night of the scythe, the night of deaths and freedoms, she’d feel inexplicably drawn towards a place that was right and true.

Balance.

How could such a simple word convey the depth of what she felt?

Yet, it did.  All around her, she had come to find shadows and chaos and within its rolling churning tides, she had found balance.

She knew she was inherently good and had once feared that her own heart would draw her too far over the edge.  But the Goddesses on her side had brought to her the very things that would keep her aligned to the grey.  The song rose, dispelling the first hints of dark memories and times, and laughter spilled from her lips.

First, they had drawn to her the dark vambraces whose song she lingered in and whose hunger, once sated, had threatened to sicken her from lack of true nourishment.  But the Goddesses knew how to care for their vessel and it was through Cosain that she had managed to maintain her own body, their link ever tight and powerful.

Then they had brought her a cursed blade, its grip and shadows binding to her as strongly as the other but her conviction to not be claimed by these powers drove her to master them and she found within herself the greatest power of all.

Her own

Yes, she was still Zelia’s and gifted with the sight and laughter that could carry her through Chaos and out the other side unscathed, but also, she’d earned the favor of death.

 And Gosaena smiled on.
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