Chapter Text
Gods. I can’t even believe the journal entries preceding this one.
I was a man obsessed.
Let me be clear: I was no Cazador. I was benevolent. I never tortured anyone who didn’t deserve it. I never killed when it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
However…
Simple reason had left me when I had Ascended, I see now, and I was driven only by the thought of my ‘consort’ Tavrielle. I had viciously tormented her in her life before and also in the one I just forced her into all those months ago. I wiped her beautiful memories and played with her like a doll, pretending we were in love. I even tried to have children with her… the very last thing I’d ever want! I do not understand my lack of sense.
Sparrow saved Tavrielle from me all those centuries ago. She saved all of our former companions from me and my actions. I see now that I eventually began to go mad after I had lost everything. Gradually my powers took more and more of who I originally was and turned me more and more into an instrument of the Hells.
Now, I have nothing. I am a mere masterless spawn once more. No more do I have scars upon my back. No more does the power of the hells save me from the damned sun. I must hide from dawn til dusk. I must find prey to live off of. I am truly weakened.
Does all this mean I truly deserve this fate for all the terror I caused?
I thought back then that the power from the ritual was everything I needed to make sure I never suffered anyone’s yoke ever again, but I was mistaken, as I ended up under the power of Mephistopheles. The Infernal curse just gave me the illusion of power and protection. Really, I belonged to the hells. I traded one yoke for another.
The Archmage Gromph stole my powers from me, and I should be livid, but I am surprisingly unbothered. Jarlaxle thinks I don’t know that my powers will return if I touch that blood gem Gromph created. I figured it out very quickly. Do I want that power back?
I miss the sun, and the food, but is the erosion of my soul worth it in exchange?
No. I do not think so.
I reside in Neverwinter for now. Were I still in Luskan I fear what I might have done to Thanchir had I stumbled across him while haunting a bar for food. I cannot completely blame him for my current predicament, though. He was being a good soldier and obeying Jarlaxle. Still, he betrayed me, and I need time to let the sting subside.
Neverwinter will do for a temporary home. The blood is plentiful, moreso than Luskan, and I arouse less suspicion here than if I had decided to move to Ten Towns. Plus, there’s a sewer system. I have found a place to hide during the day, and even set myself up a somewhat cozy room hidden amongst the twists and turns. As far as I am aware I am the only vampire down here. I suppose that will change, eventually. I am sure my surviving spawn may find me one day. I lay in Reverie with one eye open.
Tavrielle… I wish I hadn’t wronged you so. The hate you feel for me is deserved. The elf you knew all those centuries prior is truly dead and gone. No more do I love you. No more do you love me. I believe this was how it was always meant to be. We’d only been thrown together by chance when the Nautiloid crashed, and really, how deeply could love truly grow after a mere couple of fortnights of adventuring together? I wish you happiness in this life, Tavrielle. You will never suffer my presence again, I promise you.
For now I am not sure what my future holds. Perhaps in a decade or two I will take Bregan D’aerthe up on their offer of employment, once I tire of this new life I’ve carved out for myself. For now, I just want to exist. No Master, no responsibilities, just myself to be concerned about. I will live this time. I will eke out my own place in this world, finally.
I’ll write again, once something interesting happens.
-A