So much has happened. I hardly know where to begin--we have left Malacar and have started a grand new adventure across the sea! Laird has met her long-lost half-sister, who Jacamoolay sold into slavery sixteen years ago! These events are truly thrilling, but why do I feel so out of touch with reality?
I have...changed, or something. I don't feel like myself. Are the others looking at me strangely? I mean, Sadush always *did* look at me strangely--but the others--I think they notice it too. My meeting with Queen Valonia in the other world did it to me--her cold white hand!--I dream about that in addition to my other dreams. I feel stronger, in some ways, but weaker in others--like, if I had to lead the Eladrin Elite Enthusiasm Squad in a Tripartite Pyramidal Cheer of Absolute Elitism, I don't think I could do it. But I feel stronger as a warrior, and the magic that...Erevan...taught me has found a new outlet in my sword, to which I feel strangely attached these days. It's as if it's become a part of me. But somehow it doesn't feel like that old magic, which I seem to have totally forgotten.
Erevan! Why did I forget his name when we wrote to Valon? I hadn't given a thought to him after I woke up from being dead. And when I remembered him, it was like trying to remember someone from a really, really long time ago. W.J., I don't think I love him. I don't think I love...ANYBODY.
At least I have my poetry. It's my one connection to the old Ashleigh!
When once the vessels passed from Valon's view,
Horizon-bound, a star-like glimmering
Remained, to their passage testament,
And vanished moments hence; the sunset burned
Upon the water; and then the sea
Did darken with the night, did swallow
Night, and by the night seemed swallowed.
And Valon wept for tribulation sure,
And hoped for victory less certain.
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