Eeri's logbook
Tria, Germinally 9, 2ndt AC 2617
A first page of a log book. I'm going to have to engage in this writing exercise, as often as there will be something important enough to be worth reporting. Anyway, who will read this except me? Azazor and I have made a mutual promise to keep our respective writings to ourselves. It will be better that way. My writings are and will probably be much more chaotic than his, full of ideas thrown on the paper as soon as they will come to my mind. Never mind, I'll sort it out and rewrite the important stuff when I get back. But where to start?
He'll read that only if I don't come back… You'll excuse me in that case, my good Fyros. We're going to spend some time together, so I'd better go out some of my anger and doubts in writing, rather than blow them up between us. But come on, reading all this again will make me laugh in some years time.
The hour is coming. Every minute that passes makes me savor the world around me a little more. The lapping of the water in Thesos, the sound of the wind laden with sawdust, the crackling of the wind, a bodoc steak and a shookie... Even a sip of fresh water. Who knows what it will be like over there. Ah, what a great idea: I'm starting to talk about what gets drunk or eaten!
And yet time is short. Barmie Dingle, the Guide of the Rangers, spoke to us about this Marauders' fortress we will undoubtedly not be able to pass discreetly, even less in force. We will absolutely need something to negotiate. Something to convince them to let us pass, on the way out, and then on the way back. Good arguments, a bargaining chip, objects? Perhaps a message, information? Some homins can probably help me, starting with Mazé'Yum. Between his contacts with the Marauders of the New Lands, and his membership in the Black Circle, we will find something. I just have to convince him. I have to keep all this to myself, a negotiation with the Zorai-goos is always a delicate deal. It should only be about doing them a favor, not about promising them anything in return. A scalded varinx fears the retch, as they say. But it is not won.
Barmie had also hinted that the Marauders and Rangers in the old lands helped each other out, in a way, ones being the eyes, others being the armed wings. So it wouldn't be silly to pose as Rangers over there as well. Rangers messengers. It's not won, with the Fyros exuding imperial discipline from three dunes away, but I'll have some cycles to train him to pronounce a perfect "Woren siloy", to make any hominist misunderstand.
And then again that Barmie... Indeed. I spoke to him for a while in private, to ask him about the Trytonists. We talked about Marauders, Rangers, but what about those?
I could see very quickly the difference between him and the homins from here, from the New Lands. It's quite surprising, finally, to come across a homin who doesn't jump out of fear when he hears the word Trytonist. Most people here think that the mere fact of pronouncing this word in a low voice makes a regiment of The Kuilde appear, determined to chop them into small pieces.
His answer is clear, and makes sense. There are no Trytonists in the Old Lands, Barmie had never heard of them before coming here. They also have no interest in being there, so far away. Why would they hide so far from the Powers they fight? I'll see on the way, maybe we'll come across some. It's quite a long way to this citadel.
And then... We'll have to leave Thesos behind. This chit of a Fyros will grow up without me. It's a done deal, everything is finally organized so that he won't lack anything during his youth, and so that he'll be educated by the cream of the crop of the Fyros discipline. That will be something, he will not have to undergo my instability and my madness. I am getting used to his presence, though. I will almost miss him a bit. Kyriann is right, I am unbelievably irresponsible, except I hope when it comes to survival. We'll need that.
Come on, that's already a lot for a first page of a log. I still have a lot of things to deal with.
First, find Mazé'Yum. Then, find a powerful poison, and its antidote. Azazor, if one day in the future you read this, don't worry, it's not meant for you, and it will never be meant for you. Just a kind of hunch, something that my intuition tells me to get. Mazé'yum will probably be too narrow-minded to provide this for me, I have a feeling that he has, in his own way, a certain affection for me. I will have to turn to the Matis, there is a rumor that one girl in particular is singularly interested in that sort of stuff.