Love's Folly

The next few pages after the last entry are a complete mess; mostly a mass of scribblings, smudges, cross-outs and arrows attached to more scribblings. As the pages progress something tangible seems to emerge from them. Stanzas form, and the cross-outs and arrows come less frequently. At last, on the fourth page, the complete poem stands, neatly and carefully scribed as though it were a piece of sacred text.

  i
See with what simplicity
This nymph begins her golden days!
In the black sky she loves to lie,
And there with her fair aspect tames
The wilder stars, and gives them names:
But only with the brightest plays;
  And them does tell
What color best becomes them and what height.

  ii
Who can foretell for what high cause
This darling of my God was born!
Yet this is she whose chaster laws
The wanton Love shall one day fear,
And, under her command severe,
See his bow broke and ensigns torn.
  Happy, who can
Appease this virtuous enemy of man!

  iii
O then let me in time compound,
And parlay with those conquering eyes;
Ere never have tried their force to wound,
Ere with their quiet love they thrive
In triumph over evils' strive,
And them that yield but more despise.
  Let me be laid,
Where I may see thy glories from some shade.

  iv
Meantime, whilst all heavenly things
Themselves do at thy beauty charm,
Reform the errors of the slave;
Make that the children may have share
Of sweetness, seeing they are fair;
And wars of their hatred disarm:
  But most procure
That holy Peace may a longer age endure.

  v
But O young beauty of the stars,
Whom Nature courts with wisps and light,
Gather the faithful, but spare the young;
Lest love's folly become a crime,
And the Lord's work is crushed in time,
But merciful eyes shan't conquer kindness;
  And, ere we see,
Lost children walk not alone, but with Thee.

((This poem was adapted from  'The Picture of Little T. C. in a Prospect of Flowers' by Andrew Marvell. The original work can be found here.))

Entry Four: The One Pilar

Well, it seems another lapse in my writing habit has occurred. I have not touched this journal for over two months now. I do know why this has happened, however. I first started this to serve as an outlet for emotions I could not express elsewhere, and as a record of my thoughts should those emotions lead to my final demise. Yet things have changed, and I now have had to find a different purpose for it. Much has happened in the past months, though the most important of which would be what happened in the weeks after the last entry.

Firstly was the resolution to my old problem, if you could call it a resolution. After my last writing, I was pondering who I could use as a contact to reach Izanami, and having no luck. By this time I was already having second thoughts about even trying to follow through on my resolution; I ended up telling Mitara what I wished to do and she pleaded with me to reconsider. And then one fell into my lap.

I decided to confide in someone who I thought would have no hope of helping or even understanding my plight, and yet unexpectedly my assumptions were wrong, almost terribly so. I dare not elaborate in this journal for fear that someone other than I will read this... but it should be known how gladdened, and yet troubled I was. I had some ray of hope that I would be able to recover Amaterasu and bring Izanami to proper justice, but I could not tell at what cost. It could have led to my demise, or the gamble my unexpected contact was taking could have backfired. My plan was almost set to move, but my anxiety about it was as great as ever. And so eventually, as my heart began to cling more to Mitara than to the idea of revenge and I weighed the risks of harm coming to more people than just myself, I abandoned the plan altogether. I ceased to care about Amaterasu, about my past deed and about what might result from it in the future. I felt it was almost cowardly at the time, but as I look back upon it now it was surely the best thing I could have done. Not a week after I had told my contact to call it off did word reach me that Amaterasu had been recovered. I did not hear the full story but I also heard Izanami had been, as expected, captured by Verone. I cannot think of a more cruel or honorless fate for her, but I could not bring myself to feel for her. I only felt sorry that justice had to be dealt by those who do not know the meaning of the word.


But all of this seems so distant now. I cannot believe how little time has passed since then; the memories of it should have crushed me by now. But they have not. I do not lie awake at night tormented by thoughts of what I did, nor am I torn from sleep by nightmares of what was done to me. I have let it pass, something I thought I would never be able to do. I owe this to one person, the only one who could have kept me sane through it all. In fact, Mitara has made me happy. A thousand times happier than I have ever been in the past five years. As in my last entry, I cannot even begin to write about her. However this time it is not because I am not at a loss for words; now if I begin I simply will never finish. Strong yet gentle, noble yet sweet, reliable and yet delightfully surprising, in more ways than one. I swear I could fill up the rest of these pages expounding upon her merits, her beauty, her wondrous vulnerability that she lets no one else see... but off I go again. How I ever lived without her before is beyond me.

The only thing I could complain about our relationship is the conflict it has caused with Captain Laerise Fierach. For reasons that were for a while beyond us, she seems to take a special dislike for me and the fact that Mitara and I are together. After skirting on the wrong side of the line separating decency and insubordination, I decided that I had to control myself rather than let her constant jabs about my race, class and former affiliation with the Ordo get to me. Still, the situation is more complicated than that. Mitara told me something about her having a 'bad experience' with another Ni-Kunni man from the Ordo, which might have explained her attitude towards me. I was immediately stunned when I could only name one other Ni-Kunni in the whole Ordo; Sepherim himself. I found it interesting to find that Laerise had a human side to her, but also disconcerted that somehow Sepherim had wounded it. I questioned him about it when I had the opportunity. He in fact spoke very highly of her, and I must admit he changed my opinion of her somewhat. Still, while I might want to make peace, I think it is just safer to avoid her forked tongue for now.

Apart from my very different Captains, I have had only a little bit of contact with my fellow junior officers in PIE. I suppose now an exception to that is Shalee Lianee. I had been avoiding her like the plague for reasons I'd rather not elaborate on, but recently a few things have happened. Mitara and I were speaking one night and she expressed concern about something Shalee had confided in her. She thought I could perhaps speak with the Lieutenant and try to befriend her, as she seemed to be not as popular in that department as in certain others. I was not keen on the idea, but for Mitara I had to try. So, a week or two later I found Shalee at the Basilica and attempted to strike up a conversation. A very forced conversation, and I made it plain that it was such. Long story short, I offended her, she insulted me (and indirectly Mitara) and left for the gardens in an over-emotional huff. I did not much like that encounter, but oddly enough it changed my opinion of her for the better. Later that night I tried to apologize to her for the way I was, but she simply stared at me like I killed her dog. At that point I began to dislike her for an entirely different reason. No matter, I thought, I just simply had to go on avoiding her. And now it would be much easier.

Eventually she apologized for that in a letter. I appreciated the gesture, but my stance with her did not change. Until one particularly foul night we went on a patrol together. I had never lost two of my finest ships in one night, but so it happened that my Omen Navy Issue and Pilgrim were felled by filthy, craven pirates looking for a thrill. I felt too sick over the crews and the indignity of defeat to be angry after that. I went to the Basilica to clear my head, and failed at that endeavor. Shalee found me pacing by the fountain, herself in a mood because she had lost an Arbitrator. After snapping me out of my haze unceremoniously she practically ordered me to follow her. I hesitated, pondering on the wisdom of that, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me. So we met. And now I think we have some common ground. I think our new project might just be some fun. If, that is, the war ever lets us get to it.

Where could I begin on that? I will not even bother, the situtation is such a travesty. For now I wish to concentrate on what I have that is good, rather than over-extended lines and a newly invigorated (or simply enraged) enemy. Electus Matari cannot take away my personal happiness, at least.

*A scribbled note at the bottom of the entry seems to have been left a bit after it was completed.*

Mitara has won the the Officer of the Year award!

I must do something special for her.

Entry Two: The Crumbling Walls

*The letters of this entry are, for the first time, in Aldrith's normal handwritng. It is a formal Amarrian cursive, well-practiced and punctuated by the occasional embellishment on a capital letter, though it seems that they were written more out of habit than any special care taken by the writer, some of them being sloppily applied or only half-done. Still, the words exude a classical elegance and beauty, seldom seen anymore in the modern cluster.*

It has been almost two weeks since my act was committed, and now I am fairly sure of the extent of the aftermath. To my astonishment, not everything is in ruins, though I can feel that the walls of my world still stand only by merit of a few people's continued faith in me. If I do not find some way to act soon I am certain that those walls will collapse under their own weight, and I will have lost my purpose for keeping myself alive. But before I write out my plans, I think I should record some of the events of the past week, and take inventory of people I can depend on.

I seem to now be able to count my friends on a single hand. Math'ra has restrained himself from killing me on sight and has settle to just not speak with me, with good reason. Due anger aside, continuing contact with the one who took Amaterasu may still put him in direct danger with the pirate factions, and since he does not have the luxury of safety in their territory, unlike Leopold and Morwen, I am more glad for this than hurt. I can only pray that they continue to believe that he was not involved in it all; the last thing I need is yet another suffering for my mistake. And Morwen... well, she found my letter, it seems. The original, that is, the one that I thought had burnt with my body that day. At least enough of it survived for her to make reference to the part I wrote to her, saying that I still knew her as well as I did before. I must say it was warming to see her again, saying such things so soon after that fateful day. Yet I do not know if I can believe her. She came to the Basilica yesterday and was cold and terse with me, and as I began to formulate my next course of action, she belittled me, sarcastically accusing me of enjoying my role as a 'vigilante hero'. The mere suggestion that I could enjoy any part of this hellish situation stings to the core, and it forces me to assume that her resentment was only latent. It is just as well, I suppose.

However, still some rays of hope shine through. Hitome still stands by my side, the ever-faithful sister she is. However misguided I believe her affections for me are, never before have I been so glad for them. At least I can always depend on her for moral support. Still, like Math'ra, her consorting with me might catch the eye of the pirates, and now she tells me she has been under pressure from the Ordo with the same complaints I had when I was her Sephirot. Ah, she always manages to make me worry more than be comforted. Esna Pitoojee, that distant True Amarr I sometimes have seen in the Basilica also approached me, asking why I had done it. After I explained I had been deceived he offered his condolences and aid. I am not sure what he could offer, but knowing that at least he, a relative stranger, did not turn on me is reassuring.

Leopold has only become more of an enigma since this all started, and worryingly so. Not one day after Mitara tended to the wound through my hand did he waltz right into the Basilica, somehow having snuck a machete-like blade in (probably because he knows all of the guards), and lopped off my marked appendage amidst assurances that I'd find absolution! After I had it regrown, mark and all, Hitome told me that he took my hand. I could only guess as to what he could have done with it. Up until yesterday I though he had gone utterly mad, and if it were not for the fact that he represented my best chance to know what the Ghosts were up to I would not have gone to meet him again. But, to my surprise, he promised to do everything he could to help me. At the very least I will have some part to play should the Ghosts mobilize to reclaim Amaterasu. While many things about this new Leopold unsettle me, at least I know I still have a brother in him. Still, I'm telling the guards that he is never to be allowed into the Basilica with a weapon again.

And then there is Mitara. I am at a loss for words when it comes to her. She is now everything I have to gain, and everything I have to lose. After the past two weeks a simple truth stares me in the face: I do not deserve her. And yet, even though I have offered her only grief she still takes comfort from me. I cannot understand why she grants such a privilege, especially after our encounter with Vincent Pryce.

It is a nightmarish experience to look one's torturer in the eye again. The horrible memories rushed back when I saw that monster in the Garden, but it was quickly replaced by the same guilt and grief that led me into his grasp the first time. He continued his torment of me, this time verbally in front of Mitara, and I could say nothing to defend myself. Instead Mitara took up the fight for me, which only made me feel more terrible. I turned and left like a coward when I could not deny his most terrible accusation, certain I had lost her forever, my fall complete. Yet she caught up with me soon after and we traveled together back to Lantorn, without a word said between us. Only when she practically dragged me back to her quarters there did she ask why I could not answer. So I told her the truth, and asked to be excused from her sight forever. But instead she asked me another question, and I told the truth again. Perhaps even I was surprised to hear my answer to it.

Thus I still have something to live for, besides vengeance and redemption. I cannot help but think that I really should leave things as they are and simply retreat away from this whole mess. I know it would be better than risking what is still left of my life to correct the uncorrectable. If Mitara has forgiven me, why does it matter if Reimei, Vincent, Verone, or even Amaterasu herself do? But my conscience always snaps my attention back to that mar on my soul. I have already resigned Amaterasu's fate to the worst imaginable; even if she is still alive, what was left of her fragile spirit must have been broken to the point of madness by now. Until that unclean, heretic whore is served true justice, I will not be able to rest. As I have been since I first met Izanami, I am not sure what is the right thing to do. But I know what I will try to do.

Now I can consider my options. I know she is in Delve from what I have heard, but beyond that I know nothing. Either I can wait until one of my few allies comes through with some information, or I can try to lure Izanami out on my own. I am thinking that the only way to do that would be to find a capsuleer she could trust... such as another loyal follower of the Sani Sabik. However, the first problem with this is finding a Sani Sabik capsuleer who has enough ties with the Blood Raiders to be credible as an 'admirer' of Izanami's work. Then, of course, the second obstacle would be to convince them to help me, an Amarrian loyalist. True, not the best around, but just because I have shared drinks with a pirate or two will not get me on any special lists. I only know of two at the moment, one of them being Vaden Khale, the other being a name Morwen dropped the other night at the Basilica. Unfortunately, I do not think either will do, but they are the only leads I have. I will try to find more, but time is against me.

Entry One: Betrayer

*Neatly tucked into the inside cover of a leather-bound book is a printed copy of the death note, folded several times so that it is only a small square. Beyond it on the book's first page begins Aldrith's journal. The first entry is written in plain print rather than the flowing cursive he usually writes in, but the letters are jagged and inconsistent, looking as though they were penned in anger and with one's off-hand. A single drop of blood has fallen on the upper-right corner, which has been hastily blotted out to the best of the writer's ability.*

So I yet live.

Not only can I not live with honor, I cannot die with it either. Instead they scanned my being back to Amarr, while they kept my ruined body to burn for their amusement. But of course they could not just leave it at that; when I woke some hours later I found that my clones had been tampered with. Written into the genetic code is a mark, the character for 'betrayer' in my people's old tongue, done in some kind of sick mockery of the symbol I had made for Amaterasu. I bear it on my right hand now, as well as on the insides of my eyelids so that only when I am in the dark can I not be reminded of my mistake.

As I crawled out of the vat I very nearly clawed my own eyes out at the discovery, but I restrained my grief and guilt for the moment when I would fulfil my promise to Math'ra. So I readied myself and went to the Basilica. And yet, even as I held the blade over my chest, and even as I let all of the reasons and emotions that cried for the act to flood my mind, I did not plunge the dagger into my heart. Instead I drove it through that accursed mark on my hand.

At first I did not know why I had done it; I thought perhaps I was a coward and had lost my nerve. But a rush of purposeful rage had replaced everything that had been in my heart just before. The pirates had not spared me, God had. The blame for all of this is not upon my shoulders, it is upon that wretched harpy's, and if I am not still alive to redeem myself, I am alive to find retribution. I refuse to be known forever for the mark those ignorant curs gave me, and I refuse to allow them the satisfaction of finding Izanami first. I want her to be tried under Imperial law, suffer Imperial punishment, and be made an example of how we are able to take care of our own mars upon the cluster. Or, failing that, I want to strangle the life out of her myself.

And yet I know those desire can only be fulfilled through a monumental effort to find her. Even if it is possible I will be racing against Reimei and his allies, and I am certain that if we cross paths again they will not think twice about ending my life permanently. I haven't the slightest idea where to start, but as I calm clarity will return.

I will be absolved.

The Note

*A handwritten note is scrawled upon a a piece of parchment that looks like it has been in a pocket for far too long. The handwriting makes an attempt at being fluid and looks as though it could have been rather elegant, if it had not been for the fact that the writer seemed to be in a terrible hurry, duress, or both.*

I am not sure if this will reach anyone it is meant for. Before I get off the shuttle I will scan it into my datapad and send it to my private files, so that when I am gone it will be found. It is just that it seemed unfitting for me to unceremoniously type this. I'd rather put a real pen to paper, one last time.

To all those who have come to care about me during my time as a capsuleer, and those who have now come to despise me, I believe I owe you an explanation. I am sure that once everything is said and done with you will either have heard much about what I have done, or very little. But I have neither the time nor the desire to recount the exact events that led me to this fate; I am sure that there will be others to tell the story. What I do intend is to tell why I have done what I have done, and how much I now regret my blindness. And to say goodbye.

I know this might be difficult to understand for many, but I carried out this act with the best of intentions. Since the first moment I saw Amaterasu, I knew what she represented: a failure of the Empire. A failure of the thing that I had dedicated my life to protect and help, and a failure so great I could scarcely bare to look her in the eye. I wanted to help her, yet also felt as though I had no right to be anywhere near her. When she fell to piracy she then became a failure of even those that cared for her. I thought that Izanami could have corrected those mistakes. I thought she could redeem my people of the sins they had committed against her, and redeem Amaterasu herself of carrying on the cycle of cruelty upon helpless spacefarers. To provide the girl with guidance, hope, understanding, and even something resembling a family; one rooted in peace rather than the blood-stained embrace the Ghosts gave her. But of course, I was wrong.

I must say that Reimei's revelation, while utterly crushing, was not entirely surprising. There were too many signs for me to count, and I ignored them willingly in my desire to believe that Izanami truly was what I fell in love with. There is no anger towards her that can break through the terror and despair I feel right now, nor any hatred that can match what is directed towards myself. I was a fool for believing. I always have been, I can see that now. I can only ask myself why I gave in to the one woman who could destroy me so. But I cannot dwell upon fate's cruelty to me, I have dealt a much worse one to Amaterasu. For this, I am profoundly sorry.

As I look at Reimei's cold, stony face, I know that my punishment is near at hand, and I accept it. I almost welcome it.

I will surely not live through what he has in store for me, and even if I do, the world will not have to deign tolerating my existence any longer. Thus I owe some final words to the few who still might take pity on me. I pray that God grant me the strength to write at least this.

To Hitome,
Words still cannot express the shame I feel when I recount how I have treated you. What was done in the Ordo still seems to carry on. To think that I rejected your pure and honest love time and time again, while I submitted to the very harlot who has orchestrated my downfall, pains me to no end. But I partly could not help this. Except for that brief time when it nearly drove me to hateful madness, I could not return your feelings. I cannot forgive myself for that. And yet I love you with all my heart, more profoundly than you can know. You are my sister, forever and always, and I only wanted the best for you. I am just sorry I could not provide it.

To Math'ra,
Your sour glare and biting words always made me grin inside. They were the marks of a true brother, one who wishes for his sibling to grow and and be good. Despite what we both were, I never felt any animosity towards you, and nothing but trust and fellowship. You are the best thing to come to the Ordo in a long time, and I know you will be able to carry it far, should you choose. I pray for your safety.

To Leopold,
A year in the Ordo together sounds like a mere blip of time, and yet I feel as though we have been friends for an eternity. You were my mentor and guide when I was fresh in these hellish stars, and my closest ally after. And yet in the final days I am not sure what happened. We grew apart, and I no longer knew what your thoughts were. Nor did you know mine. I was not sure why you left the Ordo, and I am completely baffled as to why you too joined the Ghosts. And yet strangely, even after you destroyed the House, I keep my faith in you. I can only imagine what you must feel for me now that I have so betrayed one of your new kin for an Empire that you have lost faith in. Regret. Disappointment. Contempt? I know not any longer.

To Morwen,
You of all of these people must now think the least of me. And yet I realize that like Leopold, I no longer know you. I thought with such certainty that you were not like other capsuleers, and that you could resist the temptation to use yourself as a weapon, like Aurora had. And yet I found you flying with the Ghosts as well, chasing my brethren from our objectives even before you had joined them properly. However, even after that, I still could only think of you as that smiling, vulnerable, sweet-hearted girl I had come to known. Our cultures and our busy lives kept us apart, yet every time I saw you I was washed over with warmth and a gladness that I knew you. I am sorry it came to this. I do not expect you to understand, or to take pity on me. All I ask is that you do not hate me forever.

And to my dearest Mitara,
It all has ended before it could even begin. Perhaps I truly was right to take that oath; this way I will just fade from your memory, as I should. My past was a burden I did not want to pass to you, and its weight has proven too great for me as well. You too probably will think less of me once all is known, but I want you to know one thing: you are the one human being who remains perfect in my eyes. Your strength, your beauty, and your tenderness I will always know. I go to the grave with that vision of you, and it is my only solace now.


Farewell.