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She called me Ma'heed.

...The name of my father

...Son of a bitch.

You know, it's funny, Geoffrey always told me I should keep a journal to keep my writing and spelling strong, though it took until after he died for me to finally listen. It's not like I really care about that all that much... but after hearing that... I just had to get my thoughts down somewhere. I just needed to.

She didn't mean to say it, I know... she was in a daze after waking up, but still... after all these years, this is how I figure out who she is? I guess the universe doesn't have a sense of climax... or maybe the giant cock of fate just got a bad case of blue balls right there, but that's just what you should expect having been born in this world, I guess. Still... it makes sense that it'd be her. Nicole... I had good memories of her, if only a few. I can't believe it's her, though... I suppose there's a chance this is all some freak misunderstanding but... no, it's her. Their scent is the same. I couldn't quite remember what her scent reminded me of when I met her again at the brothel, and I eventually snuffed out the thought, but now that I've made the connection it's as clear as day. As clear as the moon on that bloody day so many years ago...

I just don't know how to feel about this.

I mean, it's not like it really changes anything... I'm still the chief bodyguard slash ass-slave to somebody I really care about and would lay my life on the line for... It's just... What happened in those years to make her change like that? She was so nice, so sweet... I can't say she's worse now, she's helped as many people as she's killed... and most of the people we've killed were bad guys, well, or at least that's I keep telling myself. But grandma always told me that every life is precious, and I'll never be able to shake the feeling that what we do is wrong. I know what it means when the life drains out of somebody and the wriggle and squirm around on the floor... begging the Gods futilely not to die... their hopes, dream, memories and being are all snuffed out, and sent to The Great Beyond... probably. I've found myself a bit more cynical these last few weeks. Be there gods or not, there's no guarantee of what happens to us after death. Might just be that we rot in the ground...

I'm getting off track; then again I was always bad at staying on topic. My mind wanders, and it's really hard for me to sit still, even know. Anyway... I know something's up with her. She keeps to herself, stays cold and stoic even in the face of danger, but people can only be so much like rocks; she's hurting, I know she is, and I want to help more than anything. There's always been a wall between us, one that I've terrible wanted to break down. But I've neither the strength nor courage to do so. I'm just a pet on a leash after all.

I'm a pet because I made an oath to myself, and oath that happened to be the first real choice of my life, I made all those years ago outside that shit-hole brothel. Ah yes, the time in the brothel... how sickeningly nostalgic, in all of the worst ways. Guess I might as well do some reminiscing about the worst years of my life while I'm at it...

Saying it sucked was an understatement. It was horrible, awful, made me question everything because it was a cycle of nothingness. Get up, try desperately to understand common tongue, food, chores, get yelled at, work, get fucked, do whatever madam said, get fucked some more, food, cry at night, get told to shut up... Every day for seven years. They didn't let me out, they knew I'd run if I could. And yeah, I might have, if only I had a place to come back to. The only thing that kept me going was the goal, my own freedom, won through fifteen years of being a slave to that bitch proprietress. Though, looking on the bright side, I suppose I have a few interesting stories to tell because of it. How many other people can say they got fucked in the ass when they were nine?

The only real joy I had there was being with Sada, though that was only for the first two years. She helped me with the language, supported me mentally, and was a mother figure to me when I so desperately needed one. Sada was one of the few people in the brothel that I actually gave a shit about, and coincidentally one of the few people I didn't fuck. Though, I'd totally fuck the shit out of her now, goddamn that body, though it might be a liiiitle bit awkward so maybe I'll just stick with being a bit suggestive with some of my well-timed quips and innuendoes and if she doesn't seem interested I'll back off. Yeah that seems like a good idea... where was I? Oh yeah... the brothel. Fuck that place. Fuck it up its metaphorical wooden asshole.

You know... I never understood why Alarice took interest in some random brothel boy. She meshed with that brothel was like oil in water. She oozes class, and that brothel was a dump, and that's putting it mildly. But now it makes perfect sense; she knew who I was.

I'll never forget the day she set me free. We had just finished fucking for what I think was our fourth session, and she would always stay around for a bit to chat with me, which I really appreciated, even if I didn't have the best first impression of her. She left it at no secret that she was an arms dealer, and ever since seeing my clan-mates getting skewered and shot at, I've developed a firm disliking of weapons. But I threw that anger away when she explained profession that very same day: you have to control evil to fight with evil. It was the way of the world. It was tough medicine to swallow, because it reminded me of how weak I was, how there was nothing I could do to stop the raiders. This whole time my lofty ideals of meek passiveness were nothing but the manifestation of my weakness, and my inability to act and take charge for my life. I once lived in a world where it was a virtue to be meek and considerate, but the land of the Stone Tribe grows on a different patch of earth.

And then she held out her hands, saying that I had two roads to take. Her left hand represented the road to forbearance, my current path in life. I'd live and work here for the remainder of my fifteen years and eventually get freed, though my soul would wither and rot, as that's what enslavement does to you. But her right hand, her beautiful glorious right hand, was the path of the selfish. If I took this path, she would free me with her bloody money, and that would be it. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I thought she was bluffing at first, but the conviction in her eyes spoke otherwise. With uncertainty still clinging to my heart, I accepted, expecting it all to be some cruel, twisted joke.

But it wasn't.

She met up with madam immediately after I chose my path, and offered to buy my contract from her. Madam at first explained that I wasn't for sale, but then she offered an amount that made madam's fat ugly maw gape wide open. After a minute or two, the deal was struck, the money paid and the contract thrown into the blazing fireplace. It all seemed so unreal, like it was all happening in a dream, and I was afraid that I'd wake up any second. But when I finally stepped foot outside, Alarice close behind me, a new world opened up to me, a brightness engulfed me, and I started crying. All those years of emptiness, gone with the wind, and I felt something in the hole of my pierced heart. I was finally happy again. She smiled when she saw me, I remember. It was one of those rare occasions for her. I promised her that I'd pay her back, but she said it wasn't necessary. Though she said there was always a place for me at her home if I so desired. And that was when I promised. I promised to follow her. It was the first choice I made of my own free-will, of my own volition, and though I know the angel follow has hands covered in blood, I have yet to regret this selfish, sinful decision of mine.

To be honest, I'm scared. I'm very very scared. I've come close to death once now, and almost lost Alarice too... Gods dammit, I don't know what I'd do if I lost her. Drown my sorrows out in sex... Maybe stick a gun up my mouth and pull the trigger after that, I dunno... but I'd damn well make that her killers go through hell before I drop. Because it's not so much that I love her, but that I need her.

She didn't just free me, but she gave me a home, a job, a world where I didn't dread waking up every morning... and I know that she cares about me, though she tries her best to hide it. But it's not just that... she also makes me do painful things, things that make me hurt... And I'm just talking about when she pegs me, because that hurts too, but when she tells me to kill. But I don't resent this pain, the pain of taking another's life, because it's a fulfilling pain. A real pain, an aching of the heart. The price of my happiness.

I hated that at first, but just like sex, I eventually learned to love it in some sick twisted way, because that pain and fills me. It makes me feel whole, like I'm truly living. I need my soul to bleed, I need to feel like a monster, because if I don't feel, if I lose my pain, I'll become what Geoffrey warned me of. I have no intention of letting that happen. That was another promise I plan to keep.

And that's really the rub of all this; I'm a fucking masochist. I need happiness as a basic necessity, and I need pain to keep my sanity in check. Hell, I remember one time I tried to see how many dicks I could stuff up my ass at once. I was fifteen at the time, sore for weeks. Crazy kid, right? But that's just the effect the brothel had on me. It drained me of soul and feeling. Hell, even though the horror of those days, seeing my friends and family die and shackled in chains, the moment when I was captured by those horrible men, at least I felt something. They say that pain and suffering is the worst there is, but I'm not so sure it is, because there was nothing worse than having to face the empty pit in my soul every day in that brothel. It's still in me now, just a little bit... but all my pain and joy have helped fill it up, and now there's just a little something missing, but I can feel it. It's something within my reach, and so I'll never stop fighting for my happiness, and the happiness of Alarice.

But when she left... when I thought she was dead, there that pit was again. It wasn't just about losing her... it was about having to face myself again. And I just can't do that, because even though I'm grown up now, I'm still weak as a lost fletching.

These feelings I have for Alarice... I don't know if I'd call them love. They blaze and crackle, and they tie my soul to her stronger than any bond of Two-Souls, tough I can't say that it's a two way tie. The reason I hesitate to call it love is because I've always wondered... can there really be love for people like us? For somebody like me? Somebody who desperately wants a family, yet only knows how to chase after someone's body...

But I suppose there's no real point in trying to explain it, because I always have something to chase... I always have something to protect. I always have a goal that I need to fulfill. This is why Alarice means as much as me as she does; because she make me feel. Even if I found that she was just some demon, disguised as a human, playing me like a violin to help achieve some sinister plot of world destruction, I wouldn't abandon her. I'm a sad pathetic loser, and I don't know when to quit.

So when she muttered daddy's name, I acted like I didn't hear her when she said it, but there's no hiding what you say from me. These giant-ass ears aren't just for show, you know. I just wonder why she feels the need to hide her past form from me? Does she not tell me because she thinks I'll reject her if I know? She should realize by now that I'd never abandon her.

Maybe it has something to do with my father... She's about seven years older than me, so she'd probably be around thirteen years younger than daddy was. Not an inconceivable age gap. I heard once from Geoffrey that the image of an ideal man for women is often based off of their father. From what I gathered as a child, Nicole never had a good relationship with her real father, that or maybe he was dead, I'm not quite sure. So I guess daddy became like her father, and that would explain the attraction she has to me. But... does that mean she was also attracted to daddy then? If so then... that would also mean like she would be fucking her father figure, and then fucking me who would be like her brother... and uh, wow damn that some incest level shit right there. Then again this is me we're talking about. I literally could not care less about something like that. And wait, if daddy's still alive and we found him and we had a threesome that would be like... okay maybe I just stop there. But... daddy, and Farika... please be alive, okay? I want to see you again soon, because the way things are going now, I could die any day now.

Everything is just so confusing, and not just my pseudo-incest thoughts, but everything about life now. I'm thinking about confronting Alarice about her past, but in the end it might not ever matter. Just as I am a different person back from that time, so is she. Alarice and Nicole are two completely different people, and there's no changing that. Things will never go back to the way they were and I have to accept that and make do.

I think... it's better that she thinks I don't know, for now anyway. I've never been good at deep emotional talks, but if I try to bridge the gap between Nicole and Alarice then... she might go soft. She might lose her killer's edge, and we might die because of that. I can't have that. Maybe once this is all over, maybe once all this business with the Order of the Blades is finally finished, I'll ask her. Maybe I'll finally get a look at what she keeps locked up deep inside her heart, and maybe, just maybe, I might find that I have a place in there.

There's just one final worry... this passion I have for her, I've began to wonder... is it for Nicole, or is it for Alarice? Alarice is the one who fills me with sweet pain and gives me a purpose, a light at the end of the road. But now I realize that it was Nicole that gave me my freedom. The softness in her voice, the selfless kindness she showed me... these were not the traits of Alarice, but Nicole, and I can see that clearly now. So... maybe Nicole is gone for good, but at the very least a little piece of her lives on in the Alarice that I serve now. And I want to see that in her more, because I don't want Alarice to live in a cold icy world like the one I had to suffer... So hopefully, when this is all over, we can both start being a bit more honest with who we are.

So who is Alarice, if she's not Nicole? Well... here's what I know about her:

She is a merciless killer.

She may have had sexual relations with my father.

She fights for some grand goal that I'm not privy to.

She has many faces, and many false names to go with them.

She hides who she really is from me, and everybody else.

She is my greatest passion.

She is my greatest sin.