I miss her like hell. I miss her spirit, her charm, her odd gestures of fondness. I miss her beauty, so discreet and so welcome to me, her girlish passion with an adult's steady force. Those nights when my life was made of waiting for her, when my heart jumped and resonated at the very sight of her, and she was everything to me, warm fire of comfort and peace and scorching flame of enticing fantasy. When I lost her I realized how much she meant to me.

I knew it would not last. I got into this with eyes wide open, knowing she would never be really mine. Those feelings were just too sweet, too rare, too unusual to me. I was ready to savour whatever crumb she threw me. Now the impossibility is so clear. A shattering knowledge. Earlier affairs had ended with quarrels, with differences. Never with the vision of my lover finding bliss in someone else's arms. Even now, would I refuse her if she offered me crumbs of affection and excitement? Would I go against my morals if she should be so amoral? I stand on the pinnacle of the Temple. Give me the strength not to jump.

And I cannot talk to anybody. Nobody here knows what happened. Except for *him*, of course, the very last person I could talk to. Sometimes at night as we lie near each other I wish I could reach out for him. But an abyss separates us that is as wide as the depths of his eyes. There's no hope here, and no escape. This is my destiny.

So we left the Valley and passed through Lacus and are en route for Mediolanum. My king is gloomy as he could be; but he will recover, it's in his nature. I know I should miss the friends and lovers I left behind, but I feel empty. I care very little for human company. My reason of life now is taking care of him - but when he is healed and settled, will I set him aside too? And for what? If I could have my desire, it would be for... nothing. No more studies, no more society. Settling in whatever task he will see fit to give me, do it well and dispassionately, take care of my little space, go to sleep in the evening - early - knowing that the plants are cared for and the house is clean. The desire of an old man. And I am still young. This is not fair.

It scares me, this emptiness. I would like to reach out to friends, to let them know that I'm still here, that I still care for them, and I find I can't. It's not that I don't care. I do, and drawing back is painful. But I just don't want to face people. I'm frightened of demands, responsibilities, diplomacy. The diplomacy of not letting out what I've discovered in that cave.

I have seen the dragon, and it was not an evil entity. For my king, it was a mirror of the horrors hidden inside him. But some shards of mirror also showed me the truth inside me. You cannot come out unchanged from this. I might say that I need time to adjust, that it's obvious I need to pull back a little from human company and relax, meditate and reflect. But what if it were not just "a little"? What if it were my nature to live alone and uncaring? I've been disdainful to Valeria and Michaél, harsh to Brida and a liar to Joanni who left convinced I was a paragon of tolerance. All that gentle compassion I was so proud of, all my friends who once seemed my reason of life - what if they were disposable too? Just puppets to talk to about my mood of the moment, and then forget them? No... never forget them. Rather, remember their company with regret and guilt.

I look around from where I am sitting, and for the moment I am at peace. While we rest the horses near the stream, Hildebrand has ridden ahead to commandeer a tavern. The company of warriors is almost relaxing. And then I think: what do I care about being introduced at court (or what the king calls court, which I suspect will consist of his family and a few officers and friends living in a requisitioned palace with their livestock)? Walking among people who have their own lives and loves, with nobody to call my own, and not even the inclination to search for such a one, quite the contrary? My heart has been broken in more ways that I care to admit. My meeting with the dragon has left me uncaring of flirtation. So what should I do among them? Smile falsely, keep wishing that there were someone to share that beauty and happiness with, know that such a one can't exist, feeling only fear when meeting friends, the fear that my heart is frozen forever?...

"Aelfwine?"

My king sits down beside me, careful not to tear his stitches once again. He looks at my writing, but even if he were proficient in reading at a glance he would not understand my native language. "Go and tell those scared peasants over there that we're just resting and won't burn down their farm. I tried to tell them but I scare them for some reason." He gives me his old hell-bent grin. So I was looking for a dragon and I found one, what am I complaining about?

I get up. All right. Worrying about the future has no meaning. Will my heart be frozen forever? I can't do anything about it now. So I go to talk to them, simply and calmly, hoping I won't make any more friends.