I have diligently cared for Davick since he came to me. I have done all that I can to help him. My skills and knowledge are not without limit though. I cannot restore sight to the blind any more than I can return life to the dead. I hold out hope that this is only temporary, but I get the feeling that his hope is fading, if he ever had any.
We argued yestereve. I feel terrible for it now, but that man always knows precisely how to hurt me and after the day I had, I could not help but snap at him. I should not have said what I did. I should not have spoke concerning my beliefs of Marinette's feelings, but I did.
Was it professional pride that caused me to speak so? Jealousy, perhaps? I would like to think the former since his request to me can more or less be heard to mean that my work is not good enough for him, thus he wants someone else to take over my role. However, I cannot help but think that it was nothing more than a petty desire to hurt him as much as he had hurt me; asking me to find her for him and take her to him.
Words can not begin to describe how deeply that wounded me. I knew what his choice would be all along. I prepared for it, braced for it, I even pre-empted it with my ritual and yet there we stood with the words yet unspoken and him requesting that I seek his erstwhile lover on his behalf. The nerve of that man. The cruelty!
Why did my ritual not work as it should? For a time it did. For a time I felt nothing - until I saw him there in that way. Perhaps I need to hear the words first. Perhaps it does not work in advance, thus I must have him speak his heart and then perform it again?
In the meantime, I still have that blasted elf to contend with. Twice today he has sought me out. The first time I fear I gave poor Cymaru quite the shock with my choice of words for him, but still he would not leave me be. In the end, Amadreruil had to chase him away with threats. She was the last I thought would come to my aid, but come she did; it seems she has little love for that one also. The second time he said nothing. He simply sat there staring at me. It makes my skin crawl! I walked away and, thankfuly, he did not follow me this time.
I saw Haldrid also, albeit briefly. He asked me what manner of relationship we have in my eyes, but before I could truly answer he was gone. What am I to make of that? He has spoken to me before of his fear of rejection and yet to ask such an innocuous question and flee before the reply can fully be given?
Somewhere at the back of my mind I hear hammering. The nails are being driven one by one into the coffin, but which one it might be is beyond me. Is it to be my love for Wolf that is soon to be buried? My tentative friendship with Haldrid? Or is that elf to lose his wits and strike me down for my continued refusal of his wishes? The nails are driven home one by one but how many there may be, and which may be the last, is something that I do not know.
