27th of Marpenoth
So now I know why she wanted him.
Or rather, I know why she wanted a child. Why she wanted him, I can’t imagine. Was this her way of getting back at me for ignoring her deals, for encouraging Aaron and the others to stay far afield of her influence? The loss of a child seems such a unimaginably high price for simply foiling a few plans and putting a nick in such a large ego. I can’t imagine how the logic could possibly work within her head unless there was something else, something important about my son in particular that intrigued her.
But then, the fact that I cannot follow her logic is a problem in and of itself, isn’t it? Her mind does not work as that of a human — for human she most certainly is not — and so perhaps it is an exercise in futility to try and understand where Bagoda is coming from. But if her ire ignites at so little nudging as a simple person who wished for nothing but to keep to herself and protect her friends, I worry at what she may do once she realizes what course of action her insidious maneuvers have now encouraged me to pursue.
At the very least, I can feel secure in that Briar’s safety remains an important factor to her plans. For what all else she may intend for him, worries I held that she may kill him to get at me feel unfounded for now. My concern no longer lies in his life or death, but what her plans will do to transform him from innocent child into the sort of dark creature that is of her image. When I have him back — for I will have him back — will he be my child anymore? Or will he have forcibly been metamorphosed from my son into someone unrecognizable and evil?
No, I cannot think like that. The short echo of a moment in which I gazed upon his face gave me a glimpse of the undeniable light that is his and his alone. It will take more than a witch’s words and actions to remake him anew… and just like his father, I must believe that no matter how he may be lead astray, his heart will remain steadfast and strong and always compelled towards goodness. That is the legacy which he inherits from the parents he has never known. I must believe that this will somehow bolster him through what is to come.
To speak of Anzo, it seems that he is finally in true possession of the letter which I intended for him. I thought that I would have liked it better for him to have been aware of the situation before it had escalated so far, but perhaps this is better.
Now he can know the name of his son.
Some part of me hopes that knowing of his existence may compel Anzo to truly settle down, to take his life seriously and consider his actions beyond their impact upon himself. Another part of me fears that the knowledge of what happened to Briar will only compel him towards recklessness, as before. If his folly leads him into the jaws of danger once again, I hold no hope for his survival. Bagoda needed him then… she does not need him now.
And then, it is just as likely that I may never see him again. With his memories gone, my letter must seem like ramblings of a woman gone mad… Oh, Anzo, if only you could realize that this deal you’ve struck threatens to break so much more than the heart of just your brother.
It is our last day here and he has not come.
I must try and rest easy in knowing that I can do or say no more than I have. This is now up to him.