The book of Daniel

[Daniel Grigori]

*Sitting in the dark inn room, the shades drawn tightly to block the sun's intruding rays, he lit a small candle and pulled a book bound in green leather from his pack. The glue in the new binding cracked as he opened it for the first time. He stared at the first blank page a moment, his fingers toying with the charcoal stick in his hand. He glanced over at the bed where his love slept fitfully, and the words came. It was time to write it all.*

This is the journal of Daniel Grigori. These words are all true and these words are all mine. These thoughts have not been shared in a very long time, but for the sake of future generations, I will put them here, that maybe one day I might be remembered, or maybe just so that I myself can remember.
I was born in Jhelom, I grew up in her streets, I lived among her people. I love Jhelom. Anyone that says anything bad about it is a liar. There is no finer city in all the world. It's peaceful...well, except for the tavern and the fight pit. On a friday night, the air rings with shouts and jeers and the sound of muscle on muscle, steel on steel. Its pretty impressive. During the cool of the day, the sound of training warriors almost creates music in the streets. The tavern is always humming with activity, townsfolk and strangers alike laughing and letting their troubles pass. I love sitting for hours just listening to stories. With the back beat of might, the citizens fill in the rest of the song with the rhythm of their daily lives.
But enough about the city. This book is about me.
My father is a land baron. He owns much of the city's surrounding property. I am his only son. It bores me to death. That's why I went out to seek my future elsewhere. Never having to worry about anything makes a man pretty daring. I've never been afraid to jump into a cave or walk through an eerie wood alone. And in my search for trouble...I met her.

*checking his time peice, sighing he closed the book. It was almost time to wake her. He climbed back into the bed, pulling the cover over himself and wrapping his arms around her. She stirred slightly, resting her head on his chest. He stared at the ceiling, watching the sunset colors seep through the small crack in the curtains.*

[Daniel Grigori]

Many things will give chase if you run from them. More things will give chase if you run at them.
I have seen beasts the likes of which many men speak of only in whispers and see in the darkest corners of their nightmares. I have boldly walked into dragon's lairs and explored harpy's hovels. I have been mobbed by orcs, true orcs mind you, not the brainless halfbreeds I have seen stumbling through New Haven on occasion. I have been chased by wild dogs and by creatures I cannot even begin to describe down in deep caves.
And yet nothing has ever been quite as dangerous as my current existance with her.
I remember that night on the boat very well, when my attendant bolted into my cabin spouting some nonsense about a woman sleeping in the hold. At first he told me she was dead, then it was like the dead, then he said he flat out didn't know. He was so flustered he couldn't get the words out.
It was just about sundown. Taking up my lantern, I lit the old blackened wick and stepped outside onto deck. Matteo and Dimitri were watching the waves lazily and I had them go check for unexpected cargo. It wasn't long before they were back, a struggling woman held between them, hissing and spitting like a wet cat. My men looked nervous. Surveying her, I was entranced by her beauty for a moment, caught in the trap that is female prowess. For just a second thoughts of taking her filled me, but passed to the back of my mind as I exhaled slowly.
She wouldn't tell me why she was there, where she thought she was headed, nothing more than curses. But there was a hunger in her eyes, one for more than bread...a voice in the back of my mind told me she wanted to devour me.
My god, I could have drown in those eyes...

*Contemplatively, he set down the pencil. He exhaled slowly, deeply, his chest feeling tight at the memory of it. That was enough for now. He had to go check on the builders, the lazy sods, and make sure they were building according the the plans. He would never hire from Yew again, that was for sure.*

[Daniel Grigori]

*Picking up the pencil, he tapped it lightly against his chin, rereading what he had written. Closing his eyes, he exhaled deeply, clearing his mind and began to scribe once more.*

My crew. Strong good men of character, intestinal fortitude and courage. Men who had stood by me against sea serpents, terrifying storms, even looked into the horrible maw of the Kracken and lived to tell about it. And yet, here they stood trembling over a woman.
I looked at them curiously and approached this vision of beauty and grace, suddenly finding the hardened heel of her boot wedged into my gut. Doubling over, I backed away from her and snarled the command to have her tied between the masts. Hesitantly they took up the chains for the cannon and bound her. Raising her head, I knew...it all fell into place. Here was the reasoning, why my men shook like blades of grass in a spring wind. All the stories dad had told before the fire at night, here was my...living?...proof. They were all true.
I told them to leave us, but they all stood as if glued to the wood their boots were on. Aggrivated, I bellowed at them, the men scattering as quickly as their feet could carry them to God knows where. Alone with her, I exhaled deeply listening to the waves lap on the side of the boat. Pacing, I tried to collect myself into a semblance of control and keep my face stoney. I moved towards her when I thought I could trust my voice, but every time I opened my mouth I faltered and returned to my pacing. Her patience must have worn thin, as she hissed a command at me.
No one spoke like that to me on my own boat.
I raised my hand to slap her sharply but suddenly our eyes met. They were such a green, the likes of which I had never seen. They seemed to see into my very soul, and then deeper to something I didn't even know was there. My hand suddenly felt like a hundred stones, and before I knew it I had lowered it and unchained her. Standing before me looking incredulous, I had to turn my back to her. Struggling to keep my composure I told her to use my cabin and stalked off before my face betrayed me.
I practically bolted to the navigation room, my palms clammy and my ears burning. I had no idea what was coming over me, but I felt it creeping through me like the very blood in my veins was alight. I collapsed into a chair and placed my hand over my forehead, covering my eyes. I sunk into thought then.

*His hands were damp with sweat as he laid the pencil aside and stared at the book. Even now, with her sleeping just feet from him, it felt like it was all so fresh. The waves of emotion washed him again, and he felt the rush of adrenaline all over again. Standing, he extinguished the candle and kneeled by the bed, running his hand over her smooth cheek, willing her to wake and grace him with her gaze once more.*

[Daniel Grigori]

I needed to know....why this ship, why me, why here? Was it not enough to have had the whole of Jhelom?
Getting up, I poured an finger of brandy from the decanter I keep hidden in a sideboard. Gotta save the good stuff for myself after all or the crew would surely have it gone in a second. Taking a sip, I set down the glass, my mind made up. Stalking out to deck, I barked at the men to get back to work. They were all looking at me like I had been born with two heads. I flipped them off, just to prove my seriousness and stalked to my cabin, and rapped hard three times on the door.
She snarled at me as she threw back the door, her eyes a mix of shock and anger as I stood just looking at her. For this I will attempt to record our dialogue...I spoke first.
'I wish a word with you.'
Here she sneered at me, 'what choice do I have? I'm practically your prisoner...right?'
I moved towards her, causing her to step back into the cabin, and shut the door. I motioned to the couch. 'Sit.' Folding her arms, she shook her head ever so slightly. 'It wasn't a request. Now.' She glared at me and sank unwillingly to the seat. Carefully keeping my eyes averted from her so I could keep a clear head, I sat at the small working table shuffling some charts and a small tablet out of my way.
'Out with it then, I want it all, and I want the truth. What exactally is it you're doing on my boat? And do not lie to me, I know what you are...and if legend is correct, what to do with you if you...try anything.' I steeled my eyes on hers, my chin in my hand, resting my elbow lightly on the desk. I tried my best to look like I wasn't completely taken with her, but instead stern and cold. Based on the look I got in turn, I was failing miserably. I never was very good at being harsh and commanding.

[Daniel Grigori]

*pulling the book from his pack, he set it on the counter before him. The young barman set a pint of strong house ale before him, not bothering to wipe the small puddle from around it as the brew sloshed over the side. His fist clenched slightly around his pencil, a small rush of rage washing over him and bringing the urge again. Swallowing hard, he looked back to the book, trying to focus. He needed to finish getting these things from his head. *

Sitting, my arms folded, I just stared at her. She stood and placed her hands on my desk, giving me a harsh glare. Listening to her words, I couldn't tell if she was pulling my chain or actually telling me the truth.
She told me she had gone to Italy for clothing, blowing her savings on fine garments. She went for the scenery, the architecture, to escape as a jilted lover. She went on and on about nonsense, spouting a new invention of reason at every turn. By the end of it, my head was spinning, and quite frankly, I wasn't sure I even cared about the reasons. The longer I listened to her, the more entranced I became.
When she finally smirked at me telling me to believe what I will, the words escaped my lips before I realized they had even come out, yet I remember them so vividly clear...

'You are welcome to stay as long as you like...as my personal guest.'

I don't know what made me say it, what made it fly so easily over my tongue, but I have not even to this day regretted it. She just stared at me darkly. A man of weaker constitution might have folded under this look, but I merely stared back meeting her gaze with all of the intensity of her own.
At that point, I made up my mind. She would be mine, even if I had to hunt her for ages.

*glancing up, he noticed the barman hanging up his apron. He quietly slipped the book into his bag and finished his ale. Leaving the small tavern, he silently drifted into the shadows, watching the door and waiting.*

[Daniel Grigori]

How many times did she turn away my advances? It must have been half a dozen times...if not countless more. I tried all the things they tell a young man works on the 'fairer' sex...chocolates, flowers, music (though I admit, I am not any better at the lute than I was then). And all of these weak attempts were scoffed at, or thrown back in my face.
I was growing tired of wasting my efforts on such futile tokens. The journey towards what I learned was her homelands was almost at an end and I knew if I hadn't won her attentions by then, I was going to lose whatever small chance I may ever have had.
One night I was completely depleted of ideas. I decided to take my dinner as I had many other times sitting on the deck under the stars. I remember I had a mug of some ale from somewhere we had stopped on the way, can't recall where now...wasn't very good stuff. I was staring out over the water watching the stars as we bobbed like a cork on the waves. I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear her come up behind me, her footsteps as silent as satin over flesh. Before I knew it though, I felt her breath on my neck and heard her in my ear. I was foolishly oblivious, wasn't I? She was so quick to inform me, to make me plainly aware of how easily she could take my life from me and I, powerless to stop it, would merely crumble. Her hands rested heavily on my shoulders pressing me into the chair.
This time was different though. When I looked up at her to reply sarcastically, instead of just walking off and letting my words fall on deaf ears, she just stood there staring out to sea as I had been moments previous. All thoughts of biting wit left me as I watched the starlight on her pale flesh. I asked her to join me and for once she actually did.
This night will always have a fantastic quality in my mind, she and I for the first time actually speaking to one another like civilized beings. She asked about my past and for once I didn't hold anything back. It was actually very freeing...

[Daniel Grigori]

I'm not really sure what it was that made me pull her to my side, but sitting there, talking, I got the uncontrollable urge to dance with her. She looked at me like I was slightly insane, but didn't resist when I slid my arm around her waist. She felt so perfect, just so incredibly perfect against me. It was a very good thing Professori taught me a bit of refinement...dancing with her was like walking on air. Time flew by, and far sooner than I ever would have asked for, that wretch they call the sun was back lightening the sky. She slipped from my arms, whispering about twilight...
Even now my chest tightens at the thought of that blissful night.
I practically danced the entire way back to the cabin, the crew giving me the strangest looks. I didn't even acknowledge their mutterings. Perhaps, as they said to each other in hushed tones, I was mad...mad for a woman that they feared, mad over her beauty, her mind, her grace...perhaps even mad enough to forsake the very light of day, simply to chase the twilight.

[Daniel Grigori]

What it is about the touching of lips, I'll never understand, but something in that action...it is enough to drive a man out of his head.

The following night was clear, the stars back out in full force and the moon full on the horizon. A slight breeze from the west brought the chill of fall. It was almost time for snow again. I was late, horribly late to meet up with her, the blasted docking documents had me spinning like always. Realizing the time, I rushed to grab my coat and tripped over a crate of maps. I still have a sore spot from that. Cursing loudly, I made my way to the deck.

I don't know what it is about it, but the image of her lying on the deck in that dress, her hair about her so carelessly, looking so serene is one of the things I hold close in my mind. There is a passage for me alone to wander in my times of rest deep within the halls of my mind where I keep treasured memories. This whole night has an entire chest devoted just to it.

She kissed me that night...something that took my breath away and sent shivers through me in a way few things ever have. I know I must have had her instincts up, she pulled away from me like a thing possessed, leaving me in stunned shock there on the deck. For moments afterwards I just sat, tasting her on my lips, trying to convince myself I wasn't dreaming. Somehow the stars looked brighter, the moon closer. I had to have more. I spent all night lying there, hoping she would come back, knowing she was probably watching from the shadows. I wanted to pursue her, to give chase, but I knew she wouldn't be able to stop anything.

Even a small piece of paradise was better than none...

[Daniel Grigori]

I remember the last time I dreamed. Two nights before we made land...it was raining and grey, the sea was flat the sky was flat grey. The horizon was barely distinguishable from the dull grey water. Following the compass, we sailed on all day with barely any wind. The progress was so slow, we decided to just stop trying. No one was in any mood to even speak to each other without biting. I retreated to my cabin early in the afternoon.
I lay on my cot, staring out the window, not even bothering to remove my boots. The steady drip of water off my oilskin as it hung over the back of my chair kept time with the small clock mounted to the wall, both of them ticking in opposing rhythm. It was to this I drifted off and had just about the strangest dream of my life...
I was in the middle of a field of very tall rocks. They were arranged in a very large circular pattern, with a flat square stone in the middle. Walking among them, I placed my hands on them here and there, feeling heat radiating off of them like ovens. Reaching the center, I felt a wave of fear wash over me as I looked at the square. I took one step forward and suddenly a hooded figure appeared in the middle of the square. As I watched, they pulled a small black blade and drove it into the center of their chest. I cried out, rushing forward as the blood spilled and the figure crumpled. I had no sooner reached the edge of the stone than I suddenly found that I was on a cliff. Looking over, I saw the sea sweeping up against some very jagged looking stones. I pinwheeled my arms, but it was to no avail, I had been going too fast and very quickly found myself tumbling over the edge. I grabbed for the land, for roots, for stones, for anything that would stop me or at least slow me. Nothing worked...I just fell faster, faster and faster....
I awoke with a gasp, sweat pouring off of me as the dream me hit the rocks. I felt my body taking inventory, making sure I wasn't damaged. My breathing slowly returned to normal, but I was shaking so hard I could barely sit, let alone stand.
I finally managed to make my way out to the deck some time later, my mind spinning on what it had created. I still don't know what it all means....

*Biting his lip, he hadn't realized it had been pierced until he tasted the small trickle of blood. He closed his eyes and licked his lips slowly. Opening them again, he glanced around his office and closed the book. He was getting to close to that memory...the one that made him ache all the way to the core. Perhaps he had been foolish to start recording it all...after all, he knew he would have to tell of that day, and he was running out of past before it. What would it matter if he never wrote of it? He pondered this until his candles burned low and sputtered out, until he saw her silhouette in the door way, beckoning him. He rose stiffly from the chair, leaving behind his memories for another night.*

[Daniel Grigori]

*Carefully folding the paper over, he slid the blossom into it, arranging the petals delicately. Opening the middle of the journal, he placed it between the pages and pressed down on the cover, hearing the Stargazer flatten. He needed to remember something of beauty so he could write of the poison. Picking up a quill, he dipped it carefully in the inkpot and began to write.*

If a man does not face his own fears, then he is a coward and not worthy of being called a man.

What good is it having a past, if one cannot face it and say that they have survived and are all the better for it?

I must force myself into recording that awful day. There is no getting around it. Because of that day, I still get a knot in my stomach every time I make port, especially if she is with me. I will never get the look on her face out of my mind's eye or forget the venom in her words. No matter how many times I reassure myself that she is still with me, in the quiet hours after she has fallen into slumber, when it is just me and the ticking clock, it plays. I watch the fire burn low as she sleeps on my chest. Some times I get strange bursts of her own rememberings of that day, but they are breif and confusing. I wonder if I had let her go, would she have come back to me at all?
We pulled into the port of New Haven in the middle of a driving rain, naturally. My dad always said if it doesn't rain when you're trying to do necessary work, then its a bad omen. Small rivulets of rain poured off the wide brim of my hat and down my oilskin. The men scrambled to unload the hold, me with my list attempting to take inventory of what hadn't broken on the way over. I saw Matteo headed towards my cabin. I knew if he opened that door...Without hesitation, I gave the orders to leave that room to me.
She hadn't made a very good impression on the crew. They made crude remarks about leaving her here to rot on the ship and, while they didn't think I could see them, from the corner of my eye I saw the open mockery of her death. Turning to them, I drew the blade from my side and shook it at them. It took all I had in me not to slay them where they stood, and judging by the looks I got in return, they knew it. I decided to go check on her.
No sooner had I put my hand on the latch for my quarters than the door swung open and she stalked out, quite a change from when I had left her...gone was all the semblance of color, gone was the softness in her eyes, gone was the smile I had managed to get from her these past few days. It was replaced by that look that had met my gaze so many weeks before, the cold hard almost feral gleam. She pushed past me in silence and stood at the rail, watching the busy dock below the ship. All I could do was stare.
There is always work to be done at the most inconvenient times. Making port is always work, and it is always inconvenient, even when there isn't a beautiful woman wreaking havok with your very conciousness and mind. It took almost all night to unload the ship.
The moment we were done, I turned to her to ask something trivial, where was she planning on staying, did she have friends here. She pushed past me without so much as a word and headed to the plank. I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her, my mind suddenly realizing what she was doing. It felt like my heart was being crushed under every footstep she made across that deck away from me. I remember...oh avatar have mercy, I remember those words that fell from her lips like daggers...'you thought you and I had something didn't you?' I now know what a shattering glass feels like.
She stalked down the plank, and I just stood there watching her, until I realized the sky was lightening with every step. I ran down the plank and put my arms around her, lifting her off the ground. The inn...the inn...I scanned the buildings around, seeing the sign and walking as quickly as I was able with her struggling in my arms. I got the strangest looks as she bellowed for me to put her down loudly. People tend to think you're up to no good if you're carrying a fighting woman through town. The innkeeper asked no questions as I tossed a large bag of coin his way. He handed me a key and pointed up the stairs, third on the left. Tossing her over my shoulder, I ran up the stairway, practically flying. Getting into the room, I slammed into the door, drew the shades tightly and tossed her onto the bed.
I will now admit, openly without hiding anything, that I lost my temper in a way I rarely do. I try to keep an even head in most situations, but Avatar damn me if I was going to let her just toss me aside like some forsaken toy at her every whim. Could she not see that I loved her, madly, deeply? I could not, would not believe that she had simply been catering to me, something to pass the time on the ship. The spark that was there, there was no denying it. Maybe I had been a fool, but damn it I didn't care! Besides the tongue, the heart is the only thing a man can never truly control. (Scratch that, let me also note that women are on that list, I have learned this over and over...) It wants what it wants.
I yelled...I threw a table...and all of my childish tantruming was met with silence. It only infuriated me further. So much so that I shook her, the hurt and the rage bubbling up from a deep well within me, one I didn't know I posessed. I had to stop myself...she wanted my hands off of her. I paced like a caged dragon and then remembered the box in my pocket. Maybe this...I pulled it out and thrust it into her hands.
We argued...it must have been loud, as a shaft of light fell on us from the open door, the fearful face of the crew peering in. They thought I was killing her, it was written all over them. I flew at them, slamming the door on them and the cursed light. I spun around as fast as I could, hearing her hissing behind me. Squinting into the gloom I searched for her, finding her curled in a ball on the floor, sheilding herself. I felt a very deep pain in my stomach seeing her like that. I scooped her off the floor and cradled her in the bed, her body pressed against mine tightly. I was never letting her go, no matter how she fought me.
At some point she fell asleep, my chin resting on her head. I whispered my love and devotion to her, wondering if she could even hear me. I took the small velvet box from her grasp gently, putting it back into my pocket and making a promise to her that when it really was time, it would return to her forever.
I don't know when I dozed off, my face buried in her hair inhaling her with every breath. It was the deepest sleep I had ever known.

*he set down the quill, the inkpot dry. Running a hand over his face he swallowed deeply, shaking a little. He could still feel every pang of emotion like it was fresh. Shutting the book, he threw it at the wall across the room, it hit with an empty thud. The flattened flower fluttered from the pages lying next to the book. He stared at it for a very long time.*

[Daniel Grigori]

*taking a pull off the silver hip flask, he ran his tongue over his teeth. He hadn't been able to bring himself to even look at the book for days, mulling over his last entry. Now he carefully retreived the book from where he had flung it and sat down at his desk. He picked up his quill and dipped it into the ink, chewing on the end thoughtfully*

There are times I see a darkness in her so deep and great that I fear she is lost from me forever. It is like a completely different person has taken over, a different entity has taken command of her being. If you watch close enough, you can almost see the dark shadow pass behind her eyes and suddenly she is cold and hard, commanding. It took me a while to learn to love that side of her and to realize she wasn't actually feeling as cold as she became towards me.
There are things about her I will never pretend to understand, but one thing I know for sure, she loves me. I am hers and she is mine and it will never change, especially now. Bearing her mark, we are forever tied in a way no one can ever take away. Blood of my blood...

[Daniel Grigori]

The beginning now told, perhaps I can move on to the present, away from the past. But I never forget. To forget would be to lose the most precious things I have ever had, both good and bad. My heart swells and aches over them, and perhaps one day someone will read this and feel as I feel, know as I know, see in their minds eye the things I have seen.
Standing on our rooftop in the evenings, I steal glances at her in the moonlight. The light reflecting off her perfect skin and being devoured by her midnight hair makes me long for her in ways so deep and consuming, I almost can't stand it. It takes all I have not to just throw myself upon her some nights. She takes my breath away with a single glance. I'm not sure she'll ever know exactly how she makes me feel, but I hope she gets even the smallest glimmer in our shared thoughts.
I worry about her constantly. She has put herself in harms way and into dangerous situations that I am not sure I can save her from. Eban....that name stirs things in me...I feel as she feels, the bonds of an old and deep friendship, and yet I know that he is dangerous for her. I know I cannot forbid her from seeing him, speaking to him, nor would I, but I worry what being around him will do to her in the end. Perhaps I should seek him out, see what he is all about. I wonder if he would meet with me?
I have nearly completed a letter to dad. I do wish him to know of my fate, that I am well and healthy, even if he does not care. He, being the only one I have left, has a right. Am I not his son, until death, does his blood not pound in my veins? I want to tell him of our business endeavors as well, though I pray I never become like him. I pity him though...a man who has died inside is more a tragedy than any play.
Perhaps I will take a visit...I really do miss Jhelom. I lay in my bed and thing about the times I had there, the fair should be coming soon, with the arrival of spring. It makes my heart ache to think I'll never see another fine spring day, watch the clouds float over the meadow, see the field daisies in the warm new sun, feel the warmth from the sky kiss my skin...

*a small tear hits the page, making him blink. He really tried to keep these things hidden away in the secret places of his mind, not to think about them....but sometimes, it was just too hard. He set the book aside and pulled up his hood. It was fully dark and there was much to do.*

[Daniel Grigori]

I have heard rumors. Things whispered and things not so silent.

If she even thinks I will allow her to set foot within the same room as that vile woman, she had better think again. It was enough for her to be near that Eban fellow, but to hear the talk of taking her head...I would go to hell and back before that happens. No force here or anywhere will stop me, or I will be destroyed trying.

There is no fury like an angry Grigori man...rage runs in our veins. Dad was a champion fighter in his glory day, as was his father before him. I grew up in the pit. I fear no man, and especially no woman with an agenda to kill the woman I love. If I must crush her myself, so help me I will.

*slams his quill down hard on the table, setting his jaw and grinding his teeth. It was time to put an end to this.*

[Daniel Grigori]

The things you remember in the dark while trying to sleep on a tossing ship never make sense...

When I was twelve, I cut my hand, cut it badly while I was training with my instructor. I can remember the pain like it was yesterday, remember the rushing sound that filled my ears as the blood fell in maddening drops. But I also remember that it didn't hurt. No one would tell me until later that that was a very bad sign, but at the time, I tried to just walk it off. I was a man after all, ripe old age of twelve, and the first of my friends to grow that initial fledgling chin hair.
I set my jaw and walked calmly across the training field, refusing the bandage offered me by James, the truest friend I think I've had to this day. It wasn't until I woke up on a cot in the healers a few hours later did I realize how severe it had been...I had passed out stone cold at James' feet. I felt like such an idiot.
Taught me something though...a man must learn to rely on the wisdom of others when things are beyond his control. Whether that is bleeding out or circumstances created by others.

I need to remember this in the coming days...

*he ran a hand through his hair, rereading the last few lines in the greasy light from the oil lamp as it swayed from the beam. The sound of waves beating on the sides of the boat reminded him that he was almost home, almost back on the streets of his memory...was this a blessing or a curse? Hard to tell the difference, given the times. Pulling down the lamp, he stowed the book back in his breast pocket and stalked up the stairs.*

[Daniel Grigori]

*Walking out of the provisioner's cluttered shop, he looked down at the newly purchased log, running his finger down the oiled leather spine. It was time to begin the next chapter. The old green journal, its pages full and its cover stained, rested in its familiar pocket in his pack. "That time is done" he murmured to himself, taking up a seat at a weathered table in the square and opened the new book for the first time.*

This is the second journal of Daniel Grigori. These are the accounts of a changed man...a new man. Long gone are the days spoken of in the past, and a new dawn has broken...though I will never see its sun.
She is gone. Where I do not know. She vanished one evening and never returned to my side, perhaps a victim of the darkness that pervaded her mind, perhaps a captive to some enemy. I may never know. The madness for her that I suffered faded as the days without her grew longer and longer. Was it glamor, was it majick, or was it some other force outside of my own comprehension, I believe I may never know. I am told a childe never loses a bond with their sire, so I will always carry part of her with me.
About a month after her dissapearance, I happened to cross paths with a most intriguing woman. After putting my trust in her and following her to a quiet place to talk, I discovered that she shared the same views on this wretched curse pounding through my veins as I do. She knows so much more than I do...it makes me feel like I am sitting at the long table in the hall again with my tutor, pouring over the lessons. There is so much to know, I don't think I will ever understand it all. But, from what I know, I have eternity *here there are a few random scribble marks*

*he sets his quill down, bridging his nose. The words won't come any more, there were so many and the thoughts were so jumbled together. Stowing the book, he gets up to wander the quiet streets and clear his mind.*