I do not know how to explain it.

It was perhaps a week ago when I recieved word from Quessa that Pengolod was dead.

I could not believe it. How could I? He had been gone for over a month, yes, but.. he was strong, he was
fast, he was intelligent.. surely he could survive any attack.

When the scribes brought the news, I collapsed.

I thought back to my father, to my brother... and now, to the one man I loved.

There was no body, I was told.. only the word.. for days I retained hope that it was a lie.

And then the ogre, that bastard who walked with the dead claimed the responsibility for my losses.

Needless to say, I was furious. This.. this foul, evil, wretched beast had taken all that I lived for.

Pengolod was dead, and along with him, so was I.

I heard the word of him claiming victory. My blood boiled, my heart screamed and cried out. It took me two days to travel to Parath, the entire time my fists clenched so tightly that my nails drew blood.

Nearing Parath, on that dim trail, I saw him. That disgusting beast who had taken the only thing precious to me. I could not stop myself. I felt all of nature, everything that I had ever treasured, fill me, gather around me, and lash out at him. Thorns grew about me,blocking his every hit, water and fire and lightning flew from my hands in a massive storm of rage.

I watched the beast fall, and felt the ground shake underneath me.

I held the hilt of my ceramic blade tightly, and looked down at the ogre. Then, from somewhere deep inside me, I started to laugh. I laughed, first quietly, then I felt the laughter growing, until I felt as though I were a maniac, unable to control myself. Finally, I calmed myself, and glared down at the ogre.

I thought back again for a moment. I remembered feeling my own life slip from me. I remember lying there, cold, lifeless... and feeling the forest, that one thing I had lived for infusing itself within me. I felt the spirit of nature reviving me, the voice of the trees whispering in my soul, 'It is not your time...'

I didn't want to see another die. I didn't want to ever see another feel that emptiness...

But this, this was a special case. This was what had just ripped my spirit, my life from me. I knew what I had to do.

I jabbed the blade into his chest, and watched him shake, and finally collapse, his body limp.

And then I walked away.

I feel no better for having done it. I feel no less empty, no less pained, no less dead, just as my love is. But then again, as I have said in the past, the rage of a lonely woman's cry does not subside easily. She may lash out to begin with, but past that point, the boiling pain inside her will fester, and continue to bring pain on those who have harmed her.

Perhaps, then, it is not over yet...