I can’t see anything.
W—— am I?
Is that light? Singing? No…chanting?
It’s cold now. It feels damp, and heavy. I’m…touching something. The ground! I’m alive! But…how?
It’s been an exceptionally long two days. I’m collecting my thoughts now at the home of one of the dragonmen tribes. We’ve come all this way to get the Speaker back. Thankfully he’s still alive.
I don’t know what to do here. I can’t talk to these things any more than I could to that strange man, Krythis. I’ve been practicing Pryma with Vindral but the speed of the conversation is just to fast to be able to join them. It’s so aggravating! I get so angry being on the sidelines, KNOWING that man’s mind is bent towards foul things. What’s worse is he has the power to achieve them. I nearly leapt from my skin to strangle him! How am I to balance that letting someone live enables them to do wrong in the future when I had the opportunity to stop them now?
I fear the same with these creatures. I know in my heart that their leader is malicious but I know equally well that they have young and, to the extent they can, regular folk too. Our world is as dangerous to them as it is to us. Why should our right to thrive trump theirs? And yet, why shouldn’t both our peoples be able to live in peace, or at least not in active conflict? I can’t even tell them any of that though because we don’t share a common tongue!! I must control the frustrations that drive me to rage. If a nonviolent solution can be met and I fouled it up by acting out of anger then the blood of everyone that dies will be on my hands. I must have faith in Dazen and the others that they will try their best and do what is right.
And yet, what the dragonmen did was unmistakably wrong. Forgiveness is given to those who show contrition. Without it they risk being left with the last thing I can offer them: a final retribution.