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Fatima's Diary
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reflections for the lost
3. The Heron
I have discovered that the training that had begun with Jerhyn was far from complete. Though I was no match for him, I held myself in too high a confidence. Melee after melee with my familiar rapier I have found myself beaten down and oftentimes driven into the blackness by wounds which without magical healing would have left me scarred and limp, if not dead. My crossbows have treated me well by keeping me far out of conflict, and my skills with the hand crossbow increase every night that I practise with them. But I doubt that I will always be able to bear my crossbow between myself and harm. I must increase my skills with the blade. Perhaps practicing the quick draw will be a wise path to trod upon.After finding my skills lacking in the arena of combat, so to say, I have found that the other skills Jerhyn taught me on the off days to be of greater usefulness. His expert guidance in remaining unseen and unheard has allowed me to go places that few of my companions dare; I have also tapped into my seemingly undying luck with my ability to study an area or thing and discover what traps or poisons lie awaiting my mispleasure. Strangely enough, I have often discovered these traps and pratfalls even when my other companions, some who are apparently much better then I am with this skill (or at least boast louder then I do of them) were unable to detect anything amiss at all. Of course, of all things that I am glad that I brought it with me from Istawa, it is my luck I value the most.
I oftentimes almost lose track of all the gusts of change that have swept by and through me these last few weeks. Strange things seem to be following me at my every footstep. I believe that they most started upon the Deepnight, when I, with my own eyes unclouded by hate, saw a portend in the sky. My fellow travelers have not spoken openly of what they witnessed, but I know what I saw; a vision. Sometimes I have seen whirling colors about someone's head, that danced into a shape or symbol that usually had something to do with the person or what was about to happen to them, but this was unlike any other vision before. A great howling caught my ears and out of the sky, among the clouds chased a great pack of hounds. Their slavering jaws and red glowing eyes transfixed me; I almost did not see the emergence of a great stag antlered man, who were accompanied by two deific figures and someone who appeared to be an elven prince. The vision wavered several times, with each beat of my heart they drew closer, until my nostrils were soaked in their strange scent and my skin crawled; but then, as suddenly as they appeared, they drew aside, seeking other prey, greeting us with a bow as they traveled onward. I have been restless since then.
This restlessness has benefitted me more then once; I know that I was able to survive one battle late at night with this very light sleeping I have developed. It is a stress on my sanity if only these frequent nightmares would not keep waking me; At least when I slumbered deeper, these dreams disturbed me less. I have often sat through the night just listening to my companions slumber, and as the night watch makes their rounds. However infrequent they actually patrol, that is.
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