(The following is an excerpt from a neatly kept journal.)
Ironskull is alive. I’ve yet to lay eyes on Viz'kalos, but am assured he’s being perfectly domestic somewhere in Eversong. I don’t want to imagine his cooking. I’m glad they’ve had each other to look after, even if Viz'kalos still lets Ironskull wear those horrible sweaters.
Yvelian is another story. The infuriating boy was all too quick to gloss over a very distinctly missing appendage. I’m afraid to ask about it. I’m afraid to know might I been able to prevent it. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen him, perhaps it’s no longer my place to feel so concerned. Any claim to the role of protector I might have had has likely long lapsed. I saw him again this evening. I think he was looking for me, making sure I hadn’t retreated back to the field once more.
As of yet I’ve not contacted the Silverfires. It’s been five years. I’ve been stuck, stagnating. Our overlapping pasts and the losses incurred do not contain memories I wish to revisit. It’s selfish, cowardly, but I’ve been satisfied by Mharen’s assurances that they are all alive and well. For some time I’ve wanted to approach them, but always managed to create obstacles for myself.
This evening and the one prior has provided an excuse to stop dragging my feet. The other night Ironskull asked about the potential of reviving the company, the following day the academy began bemoaning the ineptitude of their artifact recovery team (I’ve been telling them for years). Then, I happened to track down Embermourn.
Approaching the man was the first of many bandages I need to rip off. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult, but his reaction confirmed more than one thing. I need to try. I wasn’t the only one who mourned her loss, but I’ve been ignorantly carrying on as if all pain was mine to shoulder alone. It’s a quality I detest, I’ve been slipping.
He was flailing about with a strange pair in Farstrider’s when I found him. Oddly enough, they reminded me of Viz'kalos and Ironskull. One was a touch more vulgar, the other’s face I could see clearly, but there were certain qualities (like Ironskull’s apparent insistence to cut his hair with only the dullest garden shears and Viz'kalos’ fascination with felines) that reminded me of less-troubling times. Perhaps it was the setting, but thankfully tonight was not as colorful as the old company sparring sessions.
In my grief I’ve sorely neglected my responsibility to others. Embermourn and Ironskull have provided me the excuse I apparently need to remedy my stasis. I will approach Silverfire about the contracts. Hopefully Haestus will have some tea to spare for an old friend.
(Mentioned: @worstbelfna, @viz-kalos @lives-this-life @gilded-knight @rydrein +Tel if I knew their tumblr!)