I am expected in the choir soon, but I have a moment to write, I think. I realized that in my last post I said nothing about my patrols, and I wanted to talk about them.
I was in Orison’s wing, of course, but we spread wide to cover the lack of our brothers and sisters, so I was alone for most of the time. I’m grateful that I had the experience of following Eburnean into the dark, so that I could use the skill I learned at that time, to seek out the emotions that are the spark to violence. Looking for trouble, as it were.
To fly alone, through the dark and cold, seeking out violence, was frightening. I know that none of the humans I sensed would be able to hurt me, but still it put ice in my soul to venture near them. There is so much cruelty and selfishness and creative malice in the world.
But there is light, too, especially in this time of year. As the winter closes in, so many eyes turn to the stars, and so many hearts look toward the new year with hope. They are worth protecting.
I am beginning to refine my process of scouting, looking not necessarily for the darkness itself—because how can one see a shadow?—but for the contrast between the light and the dark. When a truly good person ventures close to the wicked—that, to me, is the easiest way to find the enemy.
I saved a young man from being mugged while he was on his way to buy his girlfriend a gift at a year-end sale. I stopped a drunk who was going to molest a cheerful girl between her friends and the car waiting for her at the end of the block. I even managed to stop the hands which would have seized a gray-haired mother on her way back to an empty home.
I saved a life. Maybe more than one. That’s a heady thing.
I will talk more about these stories later—I’d like to check in with these people and make certain that they’re all right. But Orison has returned, and he’s calling me to the choir.
He seems worn, perhaps even injured. I know that he was in at least one battle—I could sense the Fallen, as well, and warned Orison and Anathalie of their locations. But wounds of the spirit are hard to see if one would hide them. Perhaps I will talk to Brid when the song is over.
I hope for safety and wellness for us all. Now I will go and sing for joy, that I may carry it into the new year with me.