A New Dawn
Shadow Storm

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As I lie here in Talen's lap, on the ground of storm-wracked Arden, I have a great deal to consider. We did just barely escape the shadow storm wave from Ghenesh's destruction, but somehow we failed all the same. I listen to those around me, though they think I am just catatonic (good), and I consider what we have gone through. Tim sounds very sad and small, and I think perhaps Ghenesh's fall was too destructive to him. Carl and Injarda-o seem subdued, and I haven't heard a word from Marcus..oh, um, Morton...

I recall, in Chaos, sending off a gift to Dara, an attempt at some sort of reconciliation. Then, while they talked, I withdrew for a while to center myself. I went inside, deeper then ever before. I spoke with my Patron about Ghenesh, then Suhuy was there as well. He told me a few things, of the the Sphere of Schoka, the sigil of the Logrus, and how Mar did not craft the artifacts of power as he claimed. Sigh, so much for my opinions of Mar. Trenchcoat Boy, who decided to be Cryptic Skywriting Guy for the day, showed me what form I must evolve to in order to channel the force that would be necessary to destroy the Primal Pattern of Ghenesh, but did not show me how to achieve it. I have to find that on my own, there are some questions which cannot be asked and cannot be answered, or some other Shau Lin bullshit like that.

I remember we went off then, after discovering that my Ways were sealed, to the Pit where I took Talen surfing while Carl weeded out the current political upheavel in the Courts. But then... The waterfall was beautiful, the whole place Carl found was beautiful, but...it is so hard to contemplate this.

My mind is a chaotic whirl and my thought scatter before me like shadows in a storm. I am filled with dread and self-loathing but I won't allow it to consume me. I won't let them win, they don't understand what I've faced, what it's like to be inside here looking out. And I can't tell them.

I grew up in a place where your identity, your heritage, your connections determined everything; who you were and who you could be. And yet, my identity was never given to me. I was faceless, just the unclaimed daughter of the most scrutinized House in the political maelstrom of the Courts. Four brothers, and each claimed, recognized, groomed and titled. but for me there was nothing, not even a legitimate sire on record. Duke Grambel recognized Merlin, oh for him nothing was too good. And he no more a read entity than I, but I am just forgotten.

All I've ever had was what identity I could make, create, for myself, in a society that thrives off the importance of lineage and legitimacy. Being the daughter of Dara made me a Sawall, yes, but she took even that from me by leaving my paternity to rumor and resemblance. And, finally, even that was a lie. And now, if I swing from the raftors and proclaim my House and heritage, who would even believe me? My family of Sawall, such as it is, to them I am now an outlaw for some unimaginable political power-play. I don't even know what I've done, but for it my brother orders me a corpse. My brother! Spineless pawn, he would ask me for this, have me do that, but let the tides of opinion change and he bends to their will. For some political alliance, he orders his own sister exile rom her home, and outlaw to be murdered on whim! Where is the honor of the Houses of Chaos? Where are the ancient codes duello? Where is the power of the King? I should spit on him.

Amber was never my home, and Chaos has thrown me aside. I am a creature of Chaos, no half-breed bastard has the right to keep me from what I am! All that remains are the shadow worlds and whatever identity I can make for myself. But even there, all I have been has been stripped from me again.

I've never been enamored with form changing - it is practical and adaptive, not something to play with. I never felt a need to exploit myself in new forms, exploit the forms of others. But I am so tired and so very lonely. My father, I'd always believed, rejected me. And so I rejected all those like him. All around me the people I lived with reveled in change. I claimed my own self-identity and resisted their ways, their constant flux. Was I wrong? At least I wasn't uncomfortable or filled with self-hate. I couldn't be like them, the very thought made me panic, made me sick.

Tim. Tim is not a bad person, really, and I regret hurting him, but I don't feel it. But Talen....

Talen I can't avoid. Talen I turned to, I think, because Gwen is gone. I cared for Gwen, even though I could hardly show it. And it cannot be a safe thing to be cared for by me. And so finally, finally, I turned to Talen, only to have it become a mockery of everything I've stood for. To see myself become everything I've hated and fought against all my life. A shifting, identityless, non-entity, comsumed by an overwhelming glut of physical drive and reaction. And I can't fact that.

She is, still, so beautiful, and I let myself be drawn to beauty, only to become myself so very ugly inside. So I will not be that way any more. I will not be driven by raw emotion, I will not be driven by physical lust, I will remain tied to my own goals and logics and power. If I again choose to be, different, it will be in my own time and my own way with exactly whom I choose. I cannot face those who witnessed this as I was. I cannot even face myself. And I have so many, many things to fix.... *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

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Lady Corvina I of the Courts of Chaos