Ariane,
For innumerable reasons, I'd like to get to the point. Unfortunately, you may not have enough information to parry it as things stand. I have very little myself, in this case, just some broad assurance that this letter will reach you.
Know this:
1. I am in Rasazan and have been there for well over a year.
2. I am sane as best as I can tell. I have seen myself less than sane at times (the months with Jirai, the years after Underdark, my time in Golben). I've given this much thought and if I may say so arrogantly, can tell the difference.
3. That said, I am here because I still think myself a danger to others.
4. My intentions are dangerous. The scope of them. The consequences of them.
5. As such, best to put those here at risk instead of those I care about.
6. This is a temporary solution. I am actively trying to work through the last few years and understand myself and what happened well enough so that I may return in time and not repeat my previous mistakes.
7. I have occasionally reached out to others to seek explanation and exploration. I do this gingerly and cautiously, usually after I think I've reached a certain amount of progress and then either when I need an extra piece of assistance to move forward or when I feel ready to provide someone else with something I think they might need. In two cases, circumstance has overcome me in this endeavor. I will explain one of the two below as it is, in large part, the driving force behind this letter.
8. I otherwise busy myself with a wholly bureaucratic task (not politics as such) that you would find interesting for a few days in the details and far longer in the base concept.
9. I have occasional lapses in judgment (not sanity). These are, in part, how I know I am not ready. I have had less and less of them as I've gone on. They are generally brought forth by restlessness or stress. Either could do it.
It was during one of these lapses some six months ago that I reached out to Myrken. My intentions were good (but when are they not?), to provide closure for one who deserved it. They were harmless, to a degree, as the person I reached out to could not easily provide answer. I did, however, receive a response, penned by another. It was an impetuous thing and I misread the situation. It fell into a pattern I'd seen so many times before. I responded accordingly. I had an itch. I scratched it.
This was a mistake. There was something deeper underneath. After a second such lapse, mainly due to a lack of human interaction, a mystery presented itself. I had been avoiding such, for the most part, or at least avoiding those based in Myrken. I could do little to resist this, and a mystery became a game, which became another, and it ended the way such things have ended for me for years upon years.
Before I move forward, please note once again that I do think myself sane. Think of all we have seen? I know you try not to at times.
I presented contradictions, peeled at layers, introduced lines of thinking which were not meant to be traps but that certainly allowed for a forced dissemination of information from my correspondent. I gave up certain things of my own, much as I had with the Fiend or Kylerryth or Galacia, any of those beings who could likely destroy me with little effort. In the face of that, showing certain cards may mean little relative to the benefit. You're already at risk. I do not put my current correspondent at that level, though I have recently estimated her upwards. At the same time, my sense of self-preservation is not what it once was after the losses I've faced (and that I have caused); I'm sure you can appreciate that if nothing else.
In the end, gambits paid off and I would say that I won this game with no real stakes. I learned far more than I was looking for, far earlier than I was expecting (though still over a span of months, you understand). She is, for her people, young (she is a she). She is, to put it in the simplest terms, a fairy princess. This is more literal than figurative (the conversations we've had about those two terms would interest you a great deal). She's the sort that would have appealed irresistibly when I was that boy running away, map in hand. I dare say she would have been everything I wanted then. As such, she is nothing I want now.
Except for this. She presents a political dilemma to me. It's quite the tale. The blood, handed down, of a monstrous creature and a monstrous deal. Hostages and power and madmen. Exile. Coming of age. Queens and such blatant unfairness. It tempts in a way she does not, because it is so distant from all human consequence. I would be active, would right wrongs, would help someone who deserves it, would overturn the applecart of such inhuman arrogance. It has been seven years since I was stolen underground, meddled to survive, and returned broken. Part of me wonders if I might meddle once more and return fixed. You see? It tempts. She's not asked anything of me. She'd be, I think, horrified by the suggestion I counsel her in this way or that. She'd be even more so if she knew my intent would be to undo both monster and deal, even more so than shock the system. I think I could move her, though, but then I always think that about most things.
This, I think is a mistake. I don't think I will actually do it. But the temptation of it, the stress of it, the stimulus of it, worries me enough that control has faltered and peace has broken and a most severe yet entirely focused lapse has been unleashed unto this world. It was either you or the raven, and the raven has already told me what he thinks (you see what i deal with here?).
You have my apologies for that.
Glenn