May 10, 3042

I'm having my own enchantement carried out÷put that +1 ring of protection into the +2 elven chainmail to make it +3. I suppose I'll end up giving it to Danny. I'll have to check his armor out÷make sure this set will be an improvement, so he'll have a reason to take it from me. I know he hates to have me scry on him, but the only way I can think of to find out is to read his mind.

I don't understand why people get so upset about invasion of privacy, anyway. Mages have no privacy. I certainly never did÷not with an archmage for a father. If he thought I was hiding something, he's read my mind. I remember standing in front of his chair at the big dining-room table, squirming while he fixed me with a cold stare and analyzed everything I'd done that day, and was thinking at that moment. Of course, I could never hide anything from him. As soon as he called me over, I'd start guiltily remembering every disobediant act, every improper thought÷and he'd learn all of it. And of course, Father was never a man for corporal punishment. I would have preferred that÷once you've taken the punishment, you're clean. Pain would have washed away the crime. Not good enough for Father. He lectured, searing tongue-lashings that would always put me in tears after the first minute, certain that I was a no-good, unworthy, ungrateful son who would come to a richly deserved but absolutely disgraceful end.

Father's always been good at guilt trips.

When I was older, he'd scry on me to find out what I was doing. I've never had any secrets. I guess that's why I don't understand those who think their minds and actions are sacrosanct. There's no lock that can't be picked, no activity that can't be observed, no thought that can't be read. It's also why I'm so careful not to indulge in any vice that I'm unwilling to admit to in public. I suppose Danny and Callous would say that at least paranoia keeps me honest. To a certain extent, they'd be right. There are things I could never afford to have Father see...

Danny won't mind, if it's to give him a present.

May 13, 3032

Father was right. An Eirias doesn't have friends. The best an Eirias can have are self-delusions.

May 14, 3032

Simon talked me into this one when I was drunk and angry, or else I never would have gone. Shit.

We've been on the road almost a week now. I guess I'm calming down, finally. But I'm still really upset. I've been a fool; an absolute fool for what? five, six years?

I'd always figured that Father was wrong. Not that I make friends easily ... but once I do, I'll stand by that friend for life. Or death. I guess that sounds melodramatic÷but dammit, I've been betrayed too often. If someone finally seems trustworthy, stable, then I admit, I'll do a hell of a lot to keep him that way, safe, unbothered by outside trouble. I don't want them to leave me once I have them. I joke sometimes that I buy my friends. I do. I'll do anything to keep them.

Taken advantage of÷that's what Father would say. I've been a fool, and my so-called "friends" have been using me all these years. I remember the lessons he and Dungwalch taught me. Tried to teach me.

I'd been reading Danny's mind to find out about his armor÷that's all. But of course there was more.

He doesn't want me to scry on him because if I learned too much about him, he might have to turn me in. And his masters might have to eliminate me.

I can't believe that after all these years, he still doesn't trust me. Doesn't he think that I'd keep his secrets for him? I'd put my life on the line for him÷and he'd turn me in without a second thought, just to protect his damn secrets.

I guess it's just a blow to my pride to find out that the person I'd considered my best friend doesn't give a damn about me. I cared, and he didn't. I was honest, and he wasn't. I was a fool, and he must have been laughing.

Not a damn thing I can do about it.

I can't tell him how I feel. I'm not vindictive enough to try to find out his secrets and turn them against him. The best I can do÷after these long days, it's the only thing I can think of÷is to go ahead and let him have his precious privacy. I'll just end the friendship as quietly as it began.

He probably won't even notice.

My family warned me.

June 14, 3042

Fuck it. So, I'm being played for a patsy, maybe. I never thought I'd admit it, but I value his friendship more than my pride. I'll just give the armor to him.

August 4, 3032

on the ship: He explained the scrying problem, I suspect more to keep me from scrying in the future than because he wanted to. Still, I'm glad he did. Can't write it in here, of course÷ "mages have no privacy." Damn fool's just asking for trouble. Guess I'll do what I can to cover for him when it all blows up. Now we can both use some sort of anti-ESP device.

November 18, 3042

on ship, return trip: Brandon left us at Parthinon÷we threw a party, and he joined up with some other dwarves for a while. I'll miss his griping and complaining. What do I do now? Somehow, some servant hired off the street just won't be the same.

It's been rough÷I'm still taking laudanum to calm my nerves. Back to the old habits again. The lizard king's trident was "of sharpness." We didn't know that, although I don't really think it would have made a difference. We'd fought to the dragon's pit with only the lizard king in the way. He swung at Danny and dropped his Stoneskin. I stepped up to give Danny a chance to back off÷my Stoneskin had long since dropped, but I thought my magical protections would keep me safe. They failed÷appallingly. I lost my leg and passed out. When I woke up÷Sin using a potion of healing÷Danny was dead; his head cut off.

We did finally win, but the toll was high. Even Simon was ready to run away. Then the long ride back to Middenheim, and from there to Parthinon before I could be healed, or Danny brought back to life. I hope I never go through that hell again. For the whole trip I kept wondering÷what if he can't be brought back? What if he's gone?

It would leave an awfully big gap in my life. I swear I won't let it happen again; I'll never put him in that kind of danger again. He's not an adventurer. And I can't take the death of my friends. Father was right÷friendship is a weakness. But I've already determined that it's a weakness I can't avoid.

(A weakness like cowardice÷mages have no privacy÷so I will end this here, before the laudanum betrays me.)

November 23, 3042

ship, later: Too much time to think. Must invest in an anti-ESP device.

December 3, 3042

Danny says he'll be busy a while when we set into port again. Reporting? I still wish he could trust me enough to tell me. Maybe I'm cursed to never be trusted, even by the people I consider my friends. I suppose Father and Gwalch would laugh at me for even giving a damn.