Chapter 2 preamble

Nothing I did was off track.Every step of my journey away from Menzoberranzan was guided by the orientation of right and wrong in my chest, which always upholds righteousness and rejects selfishness.Even when I suffer setbacks like others, my own misjudgments and flaws do not represent violations of my conscience.Because I know that the noble principles and beliefs that dwell deep within bring us closer to the God we believe in, our identity, our hopes, and our understanding of bliss. I have not abandoned my conscience, but I fear it has deceived me. Nothing I did was off track. Alifen is still dead, and my long-ago rescue was as futile as fishing for moons in water.

Nothing I did was off track. I saw Bruno die with my own eyes.I surmise that everyone I love, everything I love, vanishes with him. Is there some eternal god somewhere out there who laughs at my folly? After all, are there eternal gods? Or is it all a lie, even, self-deception? I often think of common interests, and the perfection of the individual is part of the perfection of the whole.This is the guiding principle of my existence, and it is the consciousness that inspires me to stay away from Menzoberranzan.Now, in this time of painful parting, I understand -- or I have not had to admit until now -- that my beliefs are not just my own.What an irony of my explanation of shared interests, when in fact I've been tugging at the straw of the group to meet the needs of individuals struggling to survive.

In private, I have done the same thing as the audience gathered around the pulpit of the preaching pastor, in privately promoting myself and strengthening the righteousness of my convictions.I'm looking for comfort and guidance, but I'm the only one who needs to find the answers I need, and no one else has to worry about it. Only in this way can I say that my behavior has not deviated from the right path.But even then, I couldn't resist the snowballing of self-consciousness, panic, and panic—I was, in the end, wrong. Why did Elephine die young, and what if she lived with the chaos she experienced in her short life?Why do my friends believe in the inner guidance and the weapons in their hands, and in the end I am the only one left looking at the ruins of their ruins, but I can't do anything?What is the mystery, what are the implications of all this?

If I am always right, where is the morality, and where does the grateful god place his reward? Even asking that question strikes me as arrogant; even asking it gives me insight into the deceitful utilitarianism in my soul.I still can't help asking, am I really different from my fellow citizens?From the point of view of the motive of the action, this is natural, but from the point of view of the result of the action?Aren't I looking for the same thing as the priestesses who were forsaken in Menzoberranzan in explaining common interests and devotion?Aren't I, like them, yearning for eternal life and a position above my peers?

Facing the crumbling Wetherglu Tower, this fantasy also drives my steps. I was trained to be a fighter.If it weren't for my extraordinary skills in using a machete, I would rather live cynically in this world, even if it means less respect and more exclusion.All I have left is training and talent.It's all I can count on on the thought-provoking, looping road that sets out to open up a new chapter in Drizzt Do'Urden's life; it's the extension of my rage, and it makes me desperate for vengeance on those who shattered me. Beloved, pathetic creature; this is my cathartic loss—Aliffin, Bruenor, Wulfgar, Regis, Catti-brie, and indeed Drizzt Do'Urden.

The two scimitars, Ice Death and Shining Light, became the evidence of my own existence; Guenhwyvar was once again my only companion.We can only trust each other, everything else is nothing. — Drizzt Do'Urden