Aardehn sits on the brink of catastrophic demise. Another cycle ending without its prophecy realized. It's magic touched inhabitants enslaved to gold mines, sex houses, or left to eke out an existence in the slimy underworlds of Drahinzi.
On the dis...
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Chronicler's personal notation
107th day of Tildamore, 3030 A.I., Eighth known cycle.
Amongst Aardehn's multitude of creatures, races, tribes, and nations, it has many, many names: "The Black Herald," "The Breaker's Spear," and simply "The Obelisk." Fine and descriptive, but these titles can cloud understanding. Personally, I prefer the practicality of the dwarven words Terilanth Berith -- World Ender. A tad dramatic certainly, but when that massive cylinder smashed into our world, it marked many endings.
The worship of my godkin replaced by Kuu's monoculture. The organic forced to battle the synthetic. Our gifts of magic, squeezed out by technology.
Many of my kind have let themselves fade in this turmoil. Others have mated themselves with mortals--to have one last lifetime. Some even to help them resist.
This day, first in my thousands of years, the remaining pantheon have interrupted my work. They've asked me to put down my eternal quill. To use my knowledge of all time to help their resistance to the change.
I have rejected this desperate request. A historian does not create the events they record. My duty and purpose is to this unbiased chronicle. And I will continue it... to the end.
-MC
***
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Celeste's Journal
4th Tris. Five days to go. Evening
I try not to hate you, Father.
I try... and I fail.
Because every fucking day I'm working off the debt you left me holding. Every day I work for Kurch, and every day I'm reminded I'm just that bloated bastard's slave.
I don't sleep. I live only to work and train. Just so that pig's got no choice but to use me for keeping the customers in line... instead of keeping them happy.
But I learned from you, father. Not from all your codes of honor--those are as much use in this place as a whore in a graveyard. No... your actions taught me, father.
How a knife in the back is better done in the dark. How it's easier to leave... when no one knows your going away.
I can't believe you left me.... But I learned. Yes, I did.
I learned to use that idiot Dandrun-- to get me in with Lady Scar.
That's right, father. The queen of this cesspool's underworld (your words, not mine) had a meeting with your daughter. She's going to buy my debt. And she's promised me a life no slave could ever have.
In one week I'm free of this place and free of you.
Celeste
***
7th Tris. Two days to go. Morning.
Father,
Please come back to me. Know what is happening and come back. Please.
I need you. I'm... sorry. Whatever I did... I'm sorry. Please.
Celeste
***
9th Tris. Morning.
Finally, this is it. The day I've been waiting for has come. If I had any feelings left I might be nervous or even worried. So much time...wasted.
Waiting for you.
I guess your lessons kept me safe. But...
I love... I hate... I miss you. Maybe Scar will let me track you down. And what will I do then?
Fuck it.
The Tavern's tense today. These poor creatures Kurch stole from Aardehn are... exotic. This latest batch... more than most.
But I won't focus on that.
No. I will be mindful. Vigilant.
I just have to make it through.
The best way I can is to repeat your sayings. To imagine your calming voice reciting the mantras as I train...
"The sword sings alone ... but awaits another's voice."
