A Prayer Book (Journal)

[Aureilya]

2/6/08

Down into the Cavern once more.
My charges performed so very
very well.
I am proud and
I hate myself for it

I tried
tried to tell them
but I stayed quiet
biting back a sob

tried to tell them that
I will one day bury my teeth
in their flesh
my spells rending them
but I stayed quiet

they deserve so much more
then what they will receive
from me
the violence that is inevitable

I am so weak
I giggle when I see the pain
the vanguards torn open
and everytime we pull them back together
the bears the orc the elf the bull
they all bleed so beautifully
and we close the wounds

I am so weak
I lead and they follow
I should tell them to kill me
I am so weak such a coward

I could not put the girl back together
Nor did I want to
I just painted myself in her blood
while wallowing in my own damage

I hope one day we will find a creature
that is too much for us
that kills us

I hope I die first.
Maybe they will then have a chance.

Curse you Artificer.
Curse you
curse you
curs e you
cu rse y ou
CURSE YO U

[Aureilya]

2/7/08

Maybe I will die this eve.
Maybe we will find something that kills me
I dearly hope so

Wilek has been gone so very long
I know that it cannot be helped
I understand
but it hurts
so I bury that hurt
under wounds
under under the ripping of flesh
the breaking of bone
Sometimes my own
Mostly not

One of them bowed to me
as if I was to be respected
I wanted to spit his own blood back
into his face that is so full of
expectations

they are all so very much
so very much better than I
so very much more to The Grim.

I hurt myself for their failures
these are so very few

I hurt myself for their triumphs
these are so very many

and yet they will look to me
one too many times
a time where I lead them into such horror

I am so very scared.

So very scared that the horror
will be what I do to them

[Aureilya]

2/8/08

Chaos
All was chaos in his Lair
In the Cavern
And yet
My brethren fought so very hard
The shaman, the orc, the troll
and the tauren
I could hear his heart while he
calmly peformed his role
I want to hold it

The blood knight
proud
arrogant
and so very strong

My brother priests
my charges

I will weep when they all die by my hand
I do not want this

I cannot bring myself to fail
to find something that kills us all

I cannot bring myself to die apart from them
I am so very weak

It can only end one way
I am so very sorry for this

Atticuss
Drinn
wished to speak to me
they are betrothed
how very fucking trite

They wish a holy priest to perform their
union
a holy priest
There is nothing holy within me

My own union was a blur of hate
of cuckolding my husband over
and over with anyone

I wanted to scream at them
open them with wounds and show
them what it is to be of one body

of one body when sharing such sweet violence
Wilek I miss you
I miss your knives

I watch them gape when I slaugthered the interlopers
when the
peacekeepers stepped in
the girl watched while her man and I tore them apart
I confess I giggled with delight when the second one
fell and she looked so very very shocked.

I am sure they did not think a Harbinger of Lore
a Dreadweaver crawling through dark dungeons
could fight
could hurt
could slay

It is what I do.

I wish I could take my own life as well.

[Aureilya]

2/11/08

I weep when they cannot see.
I am so very tired.

I have always had a foundation.
In the past, my
delusions

Once they were
shed
I had, for a short, wondrous time
Wilek

And now
nothing

I understand, love
but it is so very terrifying
to be alone
I am so very scared.
Hurry.

My
proclivities
lusts
hunger
are so very strident in their need.

I have always had an anchor.
To keep what is undamaged
what little is undamaged
from slipping away.

And now
nothing

I fight
I lead
I counsel
I bleed and break

I hate them all so very much.
As much as I love them.

I go to my rest
what little I can take
with one of your knives
clutched to my breast

I no longer lose myself in the violence.
And yet I still need it.
My eyes widen in horror while I rip them open
I cry after they rattle their last
It is no longer release

I wish I was beautiful

The pretty ones always seem to die first

[Aureilya]

2/12/08

I will go visit them.
I do not understand why being with them
brings me some measure of peace
knowing now what I did

Perhaps it is because of Wilek
Perhaps it is finally being rid of delusion
even if the truth is so very terrible

Second chances
I have one of sorts
I regret I was not better to the children

such an amusing thought from one
who has killed so many young ones
who will kill more young ones

I grow weary of my own irony
my own contradictions

Maybe this eve will be the one
where I find what will stop me
what will somehow
deliver all the pain I deserve
all the pain I want

to finally even the scales

I do not even wash the blood away anymore

[Aureilya]

2/13/08

killing killing killing killing killing killing
Yet, I do not die.

I scream with garnered wounds.
My bones break.
My flesh tears.
Yet, I do not die.

I laugh instead of crying.
I do so hope that when I fall,
other Grim do not fall with me.

I began this journal in lucidity,
then devolved into maddened depravity.
The lucidity returned, in time.
The depravity has not left.

I had thought, maybe, the upkeep of this tome
would be cathartic.

Instead, it only serves to keep that which
hurts me so very relevant in my mind.

I seldom part with this book anymore.

Perhaps, in the absence of my love
I have fallen back on an old foundation:

Hate.

[Aureilya]

The fat one fell.
Pity, I thought he might be the one.

Fitting, for something so horrible to be killed by
something so repugnant.

I do not even know which of us is which.

I wonder if there is hope for me.
I wonder if feeling
warmth

affection?

for my Grim is a sign of hope.

I think it is just salt in a wound.

My excitement grew while I wrote those words.
So very sick so very delicious.

They smile and bow.
They salute and smirk.
They wave.
My chest grows tight.
I smile back with vermillion teeth.
While thinking both of fondness and depravity.

Can you enjoy the presence of your companions
while wanting to hurt them out of need?

Is this dichotomy a sign of my redemption
or the final slide into losing what is left
what is still pristine
undamaged

I have not heard from Wilek.

[Aureilya]

2/19/08



I miss the
detachment
that I had while

lost?

I feel no closer to having a path.

insane?

Am I not still? Can you be insane and know it?

damaged?

Is there a time when I am not?

Yet the detachment, the release, the desires that blinded
me in the past no longer do so. I am lucid, yet my
behaviour
is unchanged.

Responsibility clashes with my proclivities.
Affection wars with my need.
Fear wrestles with my hate.

I know some see that I am
different now.

Not better

different.

I know most do not see.
I am not sure which I prefer.

Differences aside, the blood still fills my mouth.
I am still vermillion teeth and scarlet hands.
But

I just hurt all the time now.
I am scared all the time now.

My hurt is for me.
My fear is for them.

One day I will be the death of them
through a mistake or through my
lusts

I will beg their forgiveness
weep while clutching at them
wearing their blood and mine
in the last moments

My terrified regret will fix nothing
My damage will birth more damage

The
Artificer
already made his mistake.

He gave them to me.

[Aureilya]

I should feel
anger
disappointment
hate
disgust for my Grim.

Instead I screamed with release.
I thought my time was at an end.
I thought it was going to happen.
The death I deserve.

I giggled, healing such wounds amongst
the brethren as the giant sent them to
his watery prisons. Healing my own
wounds. Tasting blood in my mouth.

A cry of dismay amongst my charges

The fat one had frozen in fear.
The bear, the creature that so often feels
the touch of my healing. My healing
I heal and I hate I heal hate myself I
hate them

His eyes squeezed tightly shut
shaking in fear of
murlocs
of murlocs

Immobile, frozen in terror.

I threw my magics, closing wounds almost
as fast as they opened
almost
almost
my charges gave their all
we stood while the bear shook like a newborn

and then we began to fall

I thought it was time
throwing my magics, screaming
as they fell around me

I was one of the last
I did not want to be
I wanted to be the first

The filthy creatures pulled me down
and I could only think
finally

I do not have to
be

And now I sit here writing
My mouth tastes like copper

The bear failed.
His fear hurt us so terribly.
But it did not kill me.

I hate him so very much for giving me hope
and then pulling it away

I will pull back in return

I will pull him open.
I will heal?
I will heal.

My damage never heals.

[Aureilya]

spitting blood
my own

I hurt all of the time now
The breaking of my bones
The tearing of my flesh
is a distraction that pushes the hurt down.

Did I have faith once?
I had delusion
was I a priestess ever
I do not think so

a rotten husk wrapped in shining vestments
throwing purity and comfort
so that she can enjoy watching more damage

they know I kill
I believe they know I need it
I do not know why I need it

But
I cannot kill the one I most want to see suffer
to see punished
to see die

I hate her so very much

[Aureilya]

Tired
so very tired

I miss him.

I smell blood
I think it is my own

My vestments are torn
vestments
I am no priest and yet I cling to old
delusions

you stupid little girl

I want vengeance

on myself

is that possible

I do hope so.

[Aureilya]

listen to them in silence.
Greetings.
Laughter.
Bickering.
Desires.
Needs.
I have so little left to say in return.

I sleep now without dreams.
Not of them.
Not of him.
Not of what I have done.
It is not fair.

a human woman
a mage
hurt me
but not enough
when she fell I sat with her
my flesh burnt and torn like her own
broken bones
she gasped her last while I stroked her brow

envying her
beautiful and dead
at peace

and then I tore her open.

I think I will sleep now.

[Aureilya]

We entered the Cavern once more.
I did not find my death.

We entered the Tower once more.
I did not find my death.

I fight in silence.
My charges need no
guidance.

I hope he returns soon.

He told me the only way he would not
is if he was

put in the ground

Always with the colloquialisms.

I put him there once.
He returned.
To me.

If he is there once more
and not by my hand

then I will simply have a task to perform

before I join him.

[Aureilya]

Much has changed.
The solitude has been
pleasant.

But fighting amongst the others last eve
did bring back to me a certain sense
of the present

I take great
satisfaction?
pride?
pleasure?
in what I do now
which is something
I am unaccustomed to feeling.

I am not sure if any of those words are apt
for something that is as unconscious in its necessity
as breathing
or the beating of a heart

for something that is part of what I am

Perhaps pleasure can indeed be found in what we need to do

And besides

The carnage is so very fucking beautiful

[Aureilya]

Pleasure in hurt
in pain
in suffering

That which I inflict
and that which I receive.

Even that which I forestall.

The pace, however, is taxing.

There is little time to smell the roses.
Or more accurately
to tear the corpse of my fallen enemy open
and consume them.

There is always another enemy.

A whole bed of roses.

I enjoy the thorns.