Removal of the Gloves

My reliable companion, sleep, has betrayed and eluded me for the third time this hand.
I have always been a woman prone to rising early, not by choice, it is simply a unspoken Caste requirement. It comes from en'vars of programing both my mind & body.
Everything up until this point that I have managed to keep tightly bottled up now seems to threaten my very existence. It is my hope that partially opening the flood gates and allowing my anxiety to soak into these rence pages that somehow it will bring me some much needed peaceful solace.

A simple tugging upon the fragile fibers, resulted in far more than tainted red hands.
I find myself unable to clearly pinpoint that exacts time when everything seemed to unravel, blinded yet again perhaps with my constant thirst for control and power.
Greed. A powerfully toxic Master.
The root of all evil.
I am helpless to block out the whispered promises of its sweet success.
Once again however it spoke to me with a forked-tongue.

The past events of last hand, started out predictably.
It had been a scroll from Zarah, that promoted me to go to Ar Station to receive shipment of the fresh seafood for the catered event. I could have easily sent others to sign for the shipment. I have it done it before, yet truth be told, I welcomed the brief chance to escape the City. The two day trip provided me with a chance to speak with the harbor master attempting to link together the names of those arriving by ship to the dates of the fires.
The names from the manifest along with arrival dates, copied and kept safe until I chance to review them fully.
I continue to remain steadfast in my belief that there is a connection between the buildings that were destroyed and those that have seized ownership upon them. After going over the details until the point that my head aches, it just makes no sense to me that profit is not a defining factor. I will not remain silent concerning such observations. I am hoping to confirm such with an upcoming dinner with the one of the local builders.


Once the bulk of the items were dropped off at the Copper Coin Inn, the rented slaves along with crumb were left in charge with the storage and cleaning of the fresh seafood.
It was at the Inn that I overheard the veiled rumors concerning Taimh's demotion, looking back now I know I should have returned to 'Seven Bridges' to find out the reasoning, I didn't however, instead I went to Central Cylinder. I am not sure what I had hoped to find out, my arrival netting more questions that answers.
Precious ahn's wasted trying to sort out fact from fiction.
The sense of dread consumed me as I arrived back to the estate to find it empty, void of life.
Such emotions have only been felt twice, once on was the day after Tynan was born and Taimh & Zennenia arrived to take him away, the other when he was taken from both of us.
I searched in vain for a note, some word of what had transpired in my absence, beyond a few turned over pieces of furniture, a ripped up robe and a slew of thrown children's clothes there was nothing to indicate what had taken place.
I feel sick inside, the better part of the rest of the day, spent in seclusion,

There was nothing, nothing left but a few turned over pieces of furniture, the children's room vanquished, leaving the looking stark and unrecognizable. The sign of what appeared to be a struggle obvious, leaving my blood to run cold.
I don't know why I thought I could trust him. In this I was cast the fool.
The scene of the crime, remains intact, control assumed over 'Seven Bridges', leaving me the Mistress of all I survey. A position that I have personally groomed myself to oversee for several en'vars.

The irony concerning Zarah being the one to send me out of the City, has not escaped me.
My dealings with her are far from finished.

Yesterday I visited Woodbridge in my hopes of speaking with Jonathan, like everything else in the City the security at the gated entrance had been increased. Access denied to me. I did however leave a scroll wishing to speak with the Administrator in hopes of finding some answers to where Taimh has taken my son. My request has naturally fell upon deaf ears.

I cannot nor will not sit ideal and wait nor will I play the part of the piteous weeper, nibbling anxiously upon the tidbits of rumored speculation. The wheels have been set into motion, the dye cast, parchments plastered thru the City, murky rumors concerning Taimh's demotion easily execrated along with the fragile mental state of his delusional companion ensuring they will be hunted like the devious animals they portray themselves to be.
In this I had no choice, the gloves are off.
He should have known I would not simply go quietly into the night not where my son is involved.

My head throbs causing my thoughts to remain scattered,
solace now companions with sleep, remaining elusive.