Notify Message
Journals
Journals » Entry
Avatar

A Black Bound Tome: The Journals of Rinnaelle Ravensald

by Captain Gilneas on Jul 04, 2015 at 09:26 AM}
Entry Fifteen:

I wasn't always angry, but I have always had a temper. Even as a child, I remember fighting the other children who would tease me endlessly about my stature and status. They would push me until that temper gave me no other choice save to act out. When I met Donovan Atraides, my first lover, that temper quelled and he ignited my passions, encouraging me to use art, dance, and sex as outlets for my anger. I think that was one of the only things about Donovan that my father embraced and led him, towards the end, to accept about our relationship.

With Donovan, my father knew that I'd excel in the King's Army.

I became truly angry, enough that it felt like a parasite that was eating away at me when I found them both dead. I don't know how or when my father became afflicted, but as the change was destroying my father, he killed Donovan. I don't doubt that Donovan was trying to help him not knowing that the change itself would kill my father.

That anger fueled me against the Forsaken invasion that would make us flee Gilneas. It served a purpose and as I sailed with my countrymen to Darnassus, my anger had quieted and I had found purpose.

It wasn't my anger that had me dismissed as a squire during my original time in Northshire, it was my snark. It was my curiosity and the endless questions that I asked regardless of the lesson. My hunger to learn and to understand was an intensity that the Paladins I trained under had little patience for and tired of quickly. When they dismissed me and recommended me for service in the Grand Alliance Army, I followed their recommendation, but that anger had returned.

I fought, using that anger as my weapon against the Horde and my own comrades. Their endless harassment of my culture, the endless verbal torment due to my culture and country, amounted to far more disciplinary actions than is acceptable within the Army and again, I found myself dismissed.

Even after meeting Baron Cedric Belcarthe, I raged. We raged. I found that in shedding the armor I had constructed for myself that fed into the stereotype of a lowborn southern woman, I was on fire. That fire could be hidden, forgotten, and left unattended by the alcohol I drank. I didn't realize for many years that in my drunken states, my anger was only manifesting itself in another way. Recklessness.

I stopped drinking when we made it to the Kingdom of Lordaeron restored, I stopped drinking because I was pregnant. We hid it as best we could, it was no one's business but our own. We hid it well. I was almost five months along when we went to Myrwood within the Blackmarsh. Again, I found myself fighting heart and soul for a country I cared little about with the belief that if I fought hard enough, I could go home. That this child that was growing inside of me would know Gilneas.

I didn't expect to see what I saw there. I didn't expect to be asked to use scourge constructs to defeat the Argent Crusaders we came across. I couldn't do it. Nor could I handle the truth of what occured after I fled the battlefield. I spoke of it all in hopes that there would be retribution for the acts, hoping that among these people of the North, there was some good.

I believed whole-heartedly that I found that good with Lord Viktor Romel, a Gilnean like myself. He guided me in my desire to speak of the truth and when I did, he offered to fight my battle. I foolishly denied him that, I was ordered by the King-Consort to prove that the Light protected me and my truth in battle against Sir Terrien Ashmoor, a death knight. The Light did not protect me. I was called a liar in my defeat, but my life was spared in an act of mercy. The life inside me was not granted that same mercy and my anger returned.

To protect me, Lord Romel sent me to learn the ways of the Light so that my honesty could be rewarded. He wanted a 'paragon' of Gilneas beside him and he knighted me for my actions before he recommended that exile myself to Whitereach and plead with Thane Harold Hargrave to grant me protection until such a time that I could safely return to the Queen's Gilneas Legion.

Through my conversations with the Thane, my anger was quelled. I didn't need to protect myself, and for the first time since I had met Baron Cedric Belcarthe, I found myself figuratively unarmed and unarmored in the presence of another. We spoke for hours, and I entertained the idea of remaining in Whitereach until the entire mess blew over. It was in Whitereach that I had the passing hope that Baron Belcarthe and I could try again. I didn't yet believe that Sir Ashmoor's blade had forever tainted me.

But it was not in Whitereach that I remained, under the recommendation of Thane Hargrave, I sought out an exiled Lord to train me in the ways of the Light. There were few others, he told me, that could train a woman such as myself. Again, I found that it was purpose and not anger that drove me to Ravenwood to plead my case to Lord Theodore Varill. My case was pleaded, and I was accepted as a Squire. Not since I had fled Gilneas had I been so happy.

Sir Varill's patience was nearly infinite for my questions and he never forced my faith in any entity of men. We would speak in depth about the troubles of the lands, and our experiences - how they shaped us, how they would always shape us, and how we could use them as tools. I was allowed to roam Ravenwood freely, and I did so. I devoured books, planted Gilnean Black apple trees and learned every aspect of the land I could on the back of Drelys. Even without Baron Belcarthe's presence, I grew, and I found peace.

When Sir Varill allowed for the Argent Confessor Padija Delvanna to join us in Ravenwood to assist with my training by teaching me the philosophies of the Light, I flourished in my life and in my lessons. When I left Ravenwood, it was usually alongside Sir Varill in every instance save one. I was pregnant again.

The Baron and I slipped away to Greymoon Isle when we learned of it, again keeping the secret close to ourselves as we were wed in the Blackwald by Lord Nicholas Graveshire. When we finally returned, things around us were beginning to change. Lord Romel was asking to speak with me almost constantly, I thought we were building a rapport, but he was adamant that I remained silent on what I had witnessed in Myrwood. I felt hunted and it was Thane Hargrave who warned me that I would be. Soon.

It was Sir Varill who informed me that the Argent Crusade had launched an investigation, he told me of what had happened to the Crusaders I tried to save in Myrwood. We both knew that my testimony had to be heard by the Crusade, even if it meant that he would be betraying his Queen, he believed that the betrayal would be understood as an action made for the good of her kingdom. We began to train harder. I had to survive. I heard that statement from him so many times that I was beginning to think it was a greeting. I had to survive.

I was seven weeks pregnant when I felt that life slip from me. Confessor Delvanna tried to tell me that it wasn't Sir Ashmoor's blade that was doing this to me. She tried to tell me that the first was an unfortunate repercussion of the fight I had against him. She tried to tell me that this time, it was just a thing. She tried to tell me these things, as she knew from her own experiences. Instead of becoming angry with the loss of my second child, I became more focused. The idea of serenity that eluded me for so long was an idea I finally found.

Two days after I lost that life, Sir Varill and I departed for Myrwood. Confessor Delvanna was escorted to the wall so that she could safely make her way to Greymoon Isle and gain passage back to the Argent holdings. As we traveled, Sir Varill and I spoke in depth about how I was to deliver the information, what I would say. He promised that we would live through this.

We did not know for certain that my life was at risk, but we believed that on that battlefield, I would have no friends save for him and my husband. He promised to remain with me. It was a promise that could not be kept. As we arrived, we found the Scourge was there as well as the Argents. Our orders were clear. Baron Belcarthe and I were to stand with the Queen's Gilneas Legion. As was discussed, I followed my orders and fought valiantly using the Light as it had been taught to me.

When the fight ended, I was unarmed quickly by my countrymen and arrested. Were it not for Sir Varill's hasty return, my voice would've been silenced long before I ever had the chance to speak. But it was he who sent the Argents to me and the Gilneans who sought to end my life. Baron Belcarthe and I were arrested by the Crusaders and taken to Hearthglen. Even then, I was not angry.

I spent three weeks in the jail cells there before I was released and asked to remain in Hearthglen for a time. It was there that I became pregnant again. I expected to lose the child, but this one clung to life as if she was my gift for doing what was right. I was kept away from the news out of the Blackmarsh and I was cared for throughout my pregnancy. I carried my daughter to term, but when I gave birth to her, the only warmth to her body was mine. Baron Belcarthe and I buried her in Hearthglen and alongside Confessor Delvanna, we departed for Gilneas.

Cedric and I tried to have children two more times, both pregnancies ended in a miscarriage and a stillbirth. The last one destroyed me. I wasn't angry, but I was destructive and heartbroken. In that heartbreak, I sent Confessor Delvanna away, believing that the Light I had so tenaciously sought, was forsaking me.

My anger didn't return until Baron Belcarthe heard tell of the portal reopening. He took our men from Saelborough to join the Alliance forces in fighting against the Iron Horde. But, it wasn't his departure that angered me. It was who he was going with that drove me to call him a traitor. I knew her name well, Chiara Bellafiore, I knew of the past he had with her and after such destructive behaviour and the loss of our children, I felt as if I were slighted. I knew that my husband would not return with me. And knew that beside him in Draenor, he would have a woman he loved. One whose body had not been as tainted as I believed mine to be.

I didn't know then that it was my own destructive behaviour and weakness for the apple brandy I made that was leading my tragic reproductive issues.

As angry as I was with my husbands departure, I abdictated my titles and released him from his vows to me. I left Saelborough for Greymoon Isle not knowing the continuing heartbreak I would find there.

Both my anger and heartbreak, however, were contended with. They gave way to purpose, and that purpose was singular enough. Return to the Light. I did not expect to find Sir Varill on my path back to the Light, but yet, I did. In him, I could still see and feel his love for his squire, but there was regret. I had failed him, I felt as if I had failed him by forsaking my lessons in the Light due to my own selfish need to wallow in my heartbreak. It was not a disappointment that I could allow to stand. he had lost so much in protecting me, that it was my love for my mentor that drove me tenaciously, stubbornly, to seek out a new mentor and find my way to the Light.

While I have found that path under the guidance of Baron Erich Manstein and the College of Canons, I find that I'm falling back on old habits. Old angers that I cannot even explain to myself. I have a feeling that they are all tied to a loss that I have been unable to bring myself to accept until it was forced upon me.

While Sir Varill lives, he is lost to me. Never again will he be the one to teach me. Never again will our conversations guide me on this path. While he lives, he is dead for me.

And it's that loss that enrages me. It's that loss that breaks me.

And in answering a question that was posed to my by Archbishop Moorwhelp last night:

No, your Grace. I'm not okay. I have brought terrible consequences upon myself and I have lost my husband, I have lost my greatest friend, and yet, the loss that I grieve daily, is the loss of a man who neither my lover, nor my friend and in spite of that, my love for him, to this day, is the greatest love I feel. In my grief, he inspires me. His actions are those that I can only aspire to. I have lost my mentor and I cannot stop seeing any others as imposters and replacements.

That is what I hold against you. That is what I hold against Baron Manstein.

That is why I am so furious.
Comments

0 Comments

Page 1