Found:
I'm getting too old for this. Too old for having to prove myself to idiots who think that just because I have boobs, I can't handle myself. Too old for having to fight in seedy taverns when some cock suddenly feels his manhood is threatened. Too old for playing fisticuffs with drunken morons because they want to prove their place in some imaginary hierarchy. Too old to bear these bruises.
Oh, sure, I've had far worse than this. I've pushed through the pain and got on with my day, but I was younger then. I was invincible, indestructible, sailing through life on a ship made of survival and triumph. I wasn't so weary in those days. I didn't ache constantly. I didn't want anything else. I didn't need anything else.
Times change and so do we.
As much as I've always loved the life I chose to live, reveling in the chaos, delighting in the discoveries and freedom of it all, I never did enjoy those moments when I had to hurt someone, or be hurt myself, just to satisfy some unspoken code of my erstwhile peers. I've done it time and again, of course; I've beaten or been beaten too many times to count. Like everything else I've ever done; it was necessary.
I truly hope that it never is again.
Cynicism whispers that it will be.
So, old and aching and bruised, I have retired to my island house. It is, I must admit, absolutely magnificent! Far larger than I will ever need, but the extra space may come in handy for merchandise and collections now that the word is going round that I am the Queen of the Treasure Hunters.
Ugh. I still think it's bloody ridiculous. And it'll most likely turn out to be counter-productive. It's also unnecessary, braggadocios and pompous. I have no intention of using this title myself - I never wanted it, I don't believe it in the least bit suitable! - but I know that if I deny it, things will only get worse. Best to just keep my mouth shut and hope people forget.
I'll spend the next few days going through what I have here, cataloguing, sorting and the like. I'll wait for the bruises to fade a little. Then I'll begin my search in earnest.
Speaking of which... this Emmet has few admirers here. Rumour says he killed Lueke - Haritha's husband - took the treasure and fled to the south. There was also some mention of his associates going missing or dying under mysterious circumstances over this last year as well. Did those who threatened Haritha have something to do with that, I wonder?
A better question is what do I do first; check the hiding places or seek his trail?
