Robert Salvatore: Mortalis

"He is still young," Juraviel dared to say, but what he really wanted to scream out at his lady was that this one needed more than training with weapons and gemstones. That he needed emotional training, as well, some measure of the balance within his own thoughts and, more important, within his heart.

He didn't say that, though, because he knew that she wouldn't hear his words.

He listened then to Aydrian, taunting Brynn Dharielle and begging her for another fight so that he could "beat her again."

Belli'mar Juraviel had a very bad feeling about all this.

I shrugged off her title, Baroness Jilseponie, as she descended the dungeon stairs in Chasewind Manor to a small and dark room she had taken as a private place for her meditations, becoming Pony, just Pony, once more.

And there, in the darkness, with all of the tumult of the politics and the public solidly put out of her mind, Pony stared into her mirror and sought the form of her lost love. She had found her place and her reason again, and when she spoke to Elbryan, with thoughts and not words, she did so with complete confidence.

I understand now, my love, and in that understanding comes a peace I feared I never would again know, a true contentment.

When I lost you, I came to fear that it had all been in vain, that we had really accomplished nothing by our sacrifice. I feared that it was the nature of man to continue with all that we fought against, that one battle only served to begin another, and that it could not end. I am still not convinced of the opposite, not convinced that paradise can be found in the kingdom of Mankind.

But now I understand that we must continue the fight, no matter the odds, no matter the outcome. We fight because, in doing so, we make a statement about who we want to be, about who we must become. We fight because the opposite is to surrender to a way of thinking that we know to be wrong. We fight to save ourselves, if not the world.

And we, all humanity, are better for the fight. The world is indeed a brighter place because of our battle against and victory over Markwart, because of our efforts and your sacrifice. The darkness will come again, I know; and I know, too, that there will be others to take up the mantle of battle, to cry out the name Nightbird, as many in our own struggle called out the name Dinoniel. You bettered the world, my love, physically by lifting the darkness from the highest level of the Church and spiritually by bringing inspiration to those of like mind who would take up the fight.

And so your death was not in vain, and though I miss you terribly, and always shall, and though my heart will never be whole again, I accept now the price of our victory. Yes, my love, the cost was worth the gain.