Kayonie Striker
*the writing is in journal with a hard bound purple cover. There is a small silver lock on it in the shape of a heart with no key hole. The heart is bound by chains running across it. If one touched the point where the chains intersect, the metal might respond with a small clicking sound and open, allowing the individual to read the contents of the journal. Inside are pages of the same color as the cover, a silvery colored ink flows think and pristine across the pages.*
It was said once that one should never allow their heart to be bound. That such an occurrence is not to be desired because it restricts the freedom of the individual who is bound. I cannot help but wonder who originally wrote such, and what sufferings they experienced that would give them such a cynical view on these things.
In Draenei culture, We have but one life-mate. Only one creature that we bind ourselves to, and they us. For me, that person is Helen. Indeed, our mating is complete in every aspect of our physical lives. I am happy with her, and I believe she is with me...I would think so at least.
I still wish I knew more of my wife though. Here I sit as her mate, and I still have little knowledge of the woman who has bound my heart. I suppose the elements of our meeting could be the reason for such. But is there more? What occurred in her past that made her so unwilling to trust me with my free will? What caused her such pity on the broken creatures like Emeterre where she would rescue what no one else would look upon?
Perhaps, in time, she will trust me enough to show me. Perhaps one day she will enchant my mind, and the mind of the little one with stories of her past, before we tuck the small bundle into its bed, and tell it good night. Then I can sing to it. I can sing to it the lullaby my mother gave to me when I was small.
I am halfway through with the first trimester. So far the child has progressed naturally... Or so the shaman and druid says. I still am experience some rather violent vomiting spells in the most undesirable times. I nearly threw up on poor Twigget. The dear and I were having a pleasant conversation when my stomach decided that -right- then was the time to churn... She was understanding however, guessing almost instantly what was the cause.
Fortunately, some other key points did not spark such, reactions. My meeting with Nestaron did not spark such involuntary purging, though I was extremely nervous for such. He and I were able to make peace between us, the other day. I met him in the city of Dalaran and was able to apologize for the cruelty of my words. Likewise, he too apologized.
Another point I managed to hold my body in check was the lesson earlier today. My commander allowed me the opportunity to draw the members of the order to the lake near our outpost to meditate and learn more about the element of water. Some of the 'students' did not progress as well as I would have hope, but other seemed very apt at calming themselves for the lesson. I am excited, and how I will be granted another lesson.
Finally, and most importantly, I was able to see to the safety of my friend Emirstra. She had decided that the time had come for her to answer for her crimes as a cultist, and turned herself in the Argent Crusaders. Before the creatures could merely execute her I was able to speak as a witness on her behalf. I believe such testimony is the only reason my dear friend is still alive. Though the punishment inflicted was still severe.
In a sense, I am proud of her. She has changed dramatically from the woman I met those long months ago. She cares deeply about setting things right, and continues to show a selflessness that is rare among even the most saintlike creatures. I believe, as I said to the crusaders, that there is a true change that has occurred in her life.
But, now I should rest. I will need to see to her wounds over the course of the week to ensure that she does indeed survive her punishment. Otherwise that judges' words are worthless. He promised that she would not be killed.