Ragor's Journal

Mother went into town today. She cast another glamour on herself so she could pass for a human. I asked her to teach me, but she said we weren't ready yet. I asked her when I would be ready—then she set my brothers upon me. I would like to say I gave as good as I got, but there's a reason I'm not her favorite.

When she returned, she brought with her an exquisite blue dress, with detailed embroidery. I have never seen any clothing so fine, but knew better to ask her what is was for.

The next morning, she came to me. She offered me a small oblong piece of copper, which I took in my mouth and bit down on with my front teeth. With practiced precision, she took her knife and pricked her ear lobe and mine, smearing the blood on her fingertips. She grabbed a hold of my broken and purple arm. I bit down harder on the metal. I did not want her to hear my scream. I felt my muscles pull and my bones crack again as they weaved themselves back into place. I have heard of those that practice magical healing, but this was not it.

I did not scream. Perhaps mother was proud of me for that.

Mother left us again. I haven't seen her for two days now. She is planning something, up to her usual machinations against the humans. I kept to myself and away from my sparring brothers. It is safer to sneak off and practice alone. It's too likely I would be an unfortunate victim of some accident when mother is not around. She would applaud their rare ingenuity.

Mother actually sat me down and taught me a few of her potions. "You'll need every advantage you can get," she said. Was it a complement? Was she being derisive? I can't even tell. But at least I'm learning something my brothers don't have any skill for.  They have some cunning, but no aptitude for memorizing recipes or measuring ingredients.

I mastered a foul-tasting blue concoction that she said would dilute the effect of alcohol, and might explain her love of strong whiskey. It was her own recipe, and mother seemed almost proud that I had done so well with it.

As usual, my job was to clean up. Blood was all over the floor, covering the symbols mother had drawn earlier. I'm not sure what she had killed there because mother always removed the body herself. I know better than to ask too many questions. She would just glare and say it doesn't concern me. But it was the third time this week, and I had not seen her use any magic. Was she saving power for something? Can she do that?

I found a grave in the woods. A mound of earth, somewhat fresh. Perhaps only a few days old, from mother's last ritual. Normally she does a better job of hiding it.

I snuck away that night with an old shovel and returned to the grave. My brothers wouldn't care, but I needed to know. So I dug. Beneath the soil was the corpses of a dozen rabbits. Or what was once rabbits. They had become contorted, mangled. One had back legs that were twice the length of its body, but thin as reeds. Another was missing half of it's head, not cut or torn, but like it was never there to begin with, covered with soft gray fur. I turned my head, vomiting my dinner on the forest floor.

I don't think I'll dig another grave again.

I followed mother again today. I don't think she knew I was there this time. She wasn't going to the city because she didn't disguise herself as a human or elf.

She made her way through the woods, following some unseen path. We came to a clearing, with a stone manor sitting in the middle. At some point, it must have been quite the sight, but it appeared to have been unused for many years. Now the orchard was wild, the walls crumbling, the red and blue flags tattered.

While I was looking over the buildings, mother had slipped inside. I was weary about approaching closer. It was obvious that the ground around the manor was cleared as a defensive measure so anyone approaching would be visible, and I did not want to take any further risks.

Then I heard the screaming and I knew I did not want to get any closer.

Today I watched mother turn herself into an elf. She had a pair of fine steel bracers engraved with some symbols I recognized as elven letters. With some arcane words, her form became fuzzy around the edges, until mother became something else. She was suddenly an elf with olive skin, dark eyes, and coal black hair tied in a braid down her back. She told me to mind the cauldron while she was gone.

Mother went back to the manor today, and I followed. I circled the clearing, staying hidden as best I could on the cover of the trees. There was another set of foot prints on the earth, not mine or my mother's.

Then I spied an old man entering the clearing from the other side. He strode out of the woods with a worn outfit of fur and leathers, his long gray hair disheveled with leaves in it. He walked directly towards the main building, but his steps seemed unsure.

When he was halfway to the manor, a woman stepped out of the structure. Was it mother? If it was a glamour, I had not seen it before. She was everything mother is not: tall, fair skinned, with blonde hair, fine ivory teeth, and eyes that shined the most brilliant blue. The only reason I knew it was mother was the blue dress she wore. As soon as the old man saw her, he fell to his knees, reaching towards her with one hand. She approached him with careful measured steps, her back straight and tall with her hands clasped serenely before her.

When they were closer, the old man leapt to his feet and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She tentatively returned the embrace. I yearned to get closer, to hear what they said to one another. It was only ten minutes or so, and then they parted. She waved farewell with a smile painted on her face.

The bugbears visited mother today. Their shaman was talking to mother about usurping his chief. I thought about how useful it could be if the bugbears owed mother a favor, and I know mother thought that, too. She made friendly overtures, but no concrete agreement. She wanted them to keep asking, but she would agree eventually. But there was no telling what the price of her favor might be.

Mother left again, this time to town. I took my chances and went the opposite direction to the manor.

I still did not like the open field between the manor and woods. I did not bother with subtlety once I left the woods, preferring to dash to the nearest doorway. The door was unlocked, and I crept inside. The interior was as derelict as the outside. There were empty places on the walls were paintings or tapestries once hung, but had been removed. The floors showed signs of furniture that was no longer there.

The kitchen was another matter. There was burnt wood still in stove, a sack of oats only partially empty but home to a family of mice, and dirty silverware and an old chipped plate in the wash basin. Nothing here was old, only messy. I went upstairs to find more empty rooms, except one. In a room with an worn round carpet in the middle sat an old cradle, now coated in a thin coat of mildew, over in the corner. As I walked over, by foot brushed by something small that bounced across the floor with a clink. I bent down and picked up a small oblong piece of copper, teeth marks impressed up and down it. I sniffed the air and I could smell the unmistakable note of iron. I grabbed the rug and pulled it across the room. Underneath the wood was stained a dark crimson.

What had mother done?

I never was mother's favorite. I had the smarts, but not the ambition.  The guile without the deceit.  Strength without the conviction. My brothers always seemed to be preferred because of the qualities I lacked. Perhaps it is my parentage.

So it was no small pleasure that I killed them. She had set them against me long before. Survival of the fittest so she could have the perfect pawn for her machinations. She had made some new enemies, and I knew I finally had my chance. I convinced them to help me, and my brothers were no match for us.

I await the day when I can meet mother again, and kill her. But now we leave to the human's city.

I had visitors today from Baron's City—I had not heard of the place in a long time. They introduced themselves as Rubin and Sendara. The two of them had traveled all the way to Sentra looking for me. They told me, with some trepidation, that mother was dead.

"Hezra was slain," Rubin said, "And will not bother Baron's City any longer." Rubin seemed especially eager to share their adventures. He told me of her plan to enthrall Baron du Bois through a mix of deceit, disguise, and magic, with bugbear tribes raiding the nearby farms to sow chaos. It sounded like something mother would enjoy doing.

I asked her if they were sure she was dead. Sendara showed herself as a Keeper, and told me she herself confirmed that mother was dead. I thanked them for their information, and sent them on their way. Sendara said she was going to the necropolis, and Rubin announced his quest to find my old companion Keo.

I don't know how I should feel. I had thought I would feel some elation, or at the very least a sense of relief. But instead, I feel empty. I thought briefly of returning to Baron's City, but discard the idea. This was my home now, and I intend to make a path that would not include mother.