Life is but a string of moments, one lined up after the next. Ever changing and utterly transitory, they are each as important as the last. Some, of course, are quite unpleasant but I can smile with the memory of this last day; a day upon which every moment was a nice one.
I have been busy of late, working upon orders of clothing and contending with my mothers' demands for my future thus it was heartening to see Vaenthal again. His smile as he looked upon me pushed away the fatigue that had settled over me during this trying time. In his company, my worries and fears departed, at least for a time.
We discussed our options concerning current affairs for quite some time, but although the subject matter was quite unpleasant to my mind, speaking of it with him was calming. He has expressed a preference for me speaking openly to my mother of our relationship regardless of the consequences we, or rather I, may face. Neverthless, he has also agreed to my ruse should I chose to take that route instead. The decision has been left to me and it is one that I am not certain I wish to make. Do I pretend to marry another, or admit to my xenophobic mother that I am involved with one not of our race?
We walked afterwards to Ost Barandor to watch the sunset. It was peaceful there and perfect. The view, as ever, was breathtaking and I could have wished for no better company. When he asked that I remove my gloves, I did so without hesitation, allowing him to see and feel the scars that I hide. Only twice before have I willingly done so, but on neither occasion was it quite so lovely. To sit there in the silence, my hand in his, my head resting on his shoulder... I would have given anything for that moment to never end. It did though, as do all moments, but it ended in such a way that I can find no complaint for I dozed there comfortably in his arms for the rest of the night.
In the harsh morning light when he was gone and I was making my way back to Bree the doubts came upon me again, as they always do. In my experience nothing that is good can last, at least not for me. There is always something or someone seeking to spoil my joy and it is rare that I can identify it before I am so struck. We are doomed, he and I, one way or another. My time with him will be short in his eyes and I fear that it will be fraught with prejudice and conflict. Will he eventually decide that I am not worth it? Will the hatred of Wolf and Vaeshiva win out over our feelings for one another? Will we be parted by time or strife, doubt or fear, never again to meet in this life or the next? These worries unspoken assail me when I am alone.
Luckily, I was unable to dwell on them for long for upon my return to the town, Cyfier found me. We spoke at length over a cup of tea in the Mess Hall. To my amusement, he admitted that I am an experiment to him; a way for him to discover if he is capable of being sociable. I learned much of him during that afternoon, and find it strange that he and I are so much alike for all that we have taken vastly different paths in life. It shall be interesting to see how he progresses along his chosen road, whether or not he has the strength of heart to follow his dream or, like so many others before him, he succumbs to the grasping claws of his past. For my part, I hope it is the former.
