_{by jaymamma.}

This adventure had been perfect. The wizard though he had been brought low, had lower yet to go. Ironically by me going low. I fully expected to miss when I kicked him. Ha, on the floor mewling like a baby exactly where he and all wizards belonged. Sildar pulled me back to stop me, or did he pull me back out of disgust for how much he enjoyed watching me work. Does he even know? It doesn’t really matter, cause I see right into him.

    I felt some semblance of myself again from the back of my horse, the girl that existed before the banshee’s so called puppet strings.

    She was right of course. Sometimes the truth scathed and stung. I find all of this to be pretty obvious, I mean I am a Warlock. By nature I draw power from another being, its a business deal, No different from the deed that entitles us the manor. My strings are pulled, but sometimes those strings are not tight pulling me along from one hop to the next and I can move according to my free will.

    Those are the moments to truly watch.

    I cant always explain my reasons for the things I do. I just have to do them. I don’t feel I did anything horrible on this adventure. A party of road robbing orcs will steal no more. An old banshee a creature of sorrow and suffering had finally found an end to its horrid existence.

    I do however find myself again envying the druid. The power she commands, taking the form of the very stars is nothing short of awe-inspiring. To think she got it not by making a deal with a soul sucking extra planar being makes me fell foolish, and well I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous of another. Mostly though its respect for doing what I have done but smarter and purer.

    This was the first fight I think the party did not want. Strangely I regret that the most, it was the only downside to this adventures events. I wanted this fight, I needed this fight and I made it so. The girl in me prays they not come to distrust me, though the Woman I am knows they should. I have an end goal in mind for all of this. This goal is in firm view in the girl’s minds eye, the purest part of me that remains, a place the darkness does not, can not touch.

    That thought fades away as I catch my reflection on the blade of curse bringer. My features have become softer, subtler, and worry lines I had have disappeared I looked a good five years younger. I smiled my boon had been granted. As much as I appreciated my enhanced beauty, that was just a welcome by product. I could always command the shadows existing around me. Now I could create the darkness itself. 

It came along with a feeling, a similar feeling to when I first summoned cursebringer. What was it, it was a little more than elation at newfound power. No. It was ..nostalgia. like remembering something you had forgotten. I could do this before? Was this new at all? Flickers of images flashed through my mind. Faster than I could grab them. I could only latch on to one but for just an instant. It was my reflection as I passed a mirror. I wore silver gleaming armor? Cursebringer was in my hand, it looked different though like it was covered with something, something that was reacting to movement and the changing of light. There were others moving with me quickly passing the mirror. I also looked older? Then the memory was gone. It left more questions than answers. I could tell however a few things for certain. The where and when the images were from. Ravenloft. Right before The battle that had laid me low and weak. How was it that I carried cursebringer before fighting the wolf? I had stolen it from him and used it against him I had thought. How was my flow of events so skewed? It did however make a little sense. Why would so cunning a creature keep a weapon so close that was one of his only weaknesses. Why had I never wondered that before?

What was with the armor? I had never seen it before, nor remembered wearing it. Who were the others traveling with me? I had fought that fight alone, Had I not? If I had in fact not, where were they now? I had no memory to go along with it, but still felt a sudden and deep stab of remorse, sadness and regret. Without knowing what had happened to them or even who they were I knew I had cared for them and that they were most likely gone. 

Was it the near death experience of that incident that had caused my fragmented memory, or was it by design? I was being played of course, always. Maybe I just had not grasped the depth of the game until now. I wondered now above all else. Where did my own power start and stop?  

 As if on cue a screaming face appeared in the blade next to my reflection. Ahh, the banshee. I guess my benefactor was not finished with her. That is good, cause I of course have more immediate questions……….