Aina Lorathlae

We woke up with the sun rise. Luckily, we weren't disturbed during our sleep. Ferryman decided to introduce themselves as Karsus. They prefer Ferryman so I will keep calling them that. Ferryman said they don't know much about the figure that was chasing us, just that they weren't alone in that room they were locked in while they slept. Fathom noted that it doesn't seem happy about any of us existing.   Ferryman explained again that Hymn is a part of him and that he was his dream. Hornet is not sure what a dream is and Ferryman said that elves are weird. Hornet asked him if he has a heritage and he doesn't remember, it seemed to frustrate him. It doesn't seem like Ferryman picked up on Hymn's tracking skills, so I am leading the group to continue our search for Slaughter.   Fathom worked on his guns while we walked. They seem really interesting. They are shaped like a horseshoe and they seemed really complicated to me. Lots of springs and moving parts.   After some time, we started having to follow our nose rather than our eyesight. I could smell death on the path. Hrorilad is off in the distance, it looked so big from here. Reminded me of how Ciiryc looked from a distance. Fathom mentioned how Hrorilad is Slaughter's warpath and that we should avoid confrontation. He then talked about his weapon, the one we found in the crypt. Talking about the weapon really freaked me out, I feel bad for snapping a little. All I did was repeat not to touch it and not to even get close to it but I still feel bad. I guess... It's a bit of a touchy subject for me now seeing as I almost used it from the influence of it.   Fathom also told Ferryman about our interaction with Asmod. He was catching him up to speed, mostly. I brought up what that figure from yesterday said to me, and Ferryman reiterated he doesn't know much about the figure; he knows as much as we do.   Then I smelled smoke. We saw a pillowing smoke plume coming from close by, in the direction we were heading. As we approached, I picked up the scent of death. It's close, really close. I peek out onto the horizon and I see a village. Every building is burning. I see a figure. They had a set of white horns, a torn bit of armor around an orcish form, and a head of gray mangled hair. They were holding a giant sword. I saw them stab down with it after a scream, snuffing it out. Hornet says we have found Slaughter. I noticed at that point that Erafinyr fled from my hood into someone else's clothes. I am still not sure who she went to, but I'm guessing not Hornet because she is scared of them.   Slaughter goes into the village, a cloud of smoke descended on the path. Hornet questions if we can fight him and Fathom says we can't but we can try to divert his attention to find survivors. He started heading to the village. The body of who Slaughter just killed stood up, laundering back into the village. Hornet says this is out of our depth, and I very much agree.   We made a plan to stick relatively close as we entered the village. Ferryman casted an invincibility spell on himself and Fathom, I changed form into a cat, and Hornet got around stealthily. It didn't take long for us to get seperated. Last thing I saw when I was still with the others was Slaughter dragging someone out of their house with their back on fire. They tossed them into the mud in the road and I heard screams snuffed out by a blow of their sword.   I was hidden underneath one of the porches, waiting to figure out my next move. I don't know where the others went. I peek out after some time and I see Fathom and Hornet being followed by a horde of undead and Slaughter. There was a strange woman a couple houses down on the porch. She had a black dress with slightly puffy shoulders. Her skin was gray and her arms were stripped. I couldn't see her front from here.   I slowly started to approach. Something in my gut was telling me that she was the one controlling the undead. Maybe if I got to her, I could stop the undead and help the others. I then heard Ferryman's voice in my head. He asked me if I wanted to do something about the woman. I felt like they were going to do something but whatever it was, it failed and had no affect on her. Maybe a sleep spell? I was frozen up and scared. I ran away, even though I had the opportunity to possibly get the person behind this.   I circled around the town, trying to crawl under buildings to avoid getting in front of that woman's gaze. I didn't want to be seen. I saw the others heading through a plains to Hrorilad on... unicorns? Fathom must have had another magic attack and summoned them. As soon as I made it to the clearing, I ran as fast as I could. Not long after, a unicorn made it to me with Ferryman on its back. I hopped on still in cat form and it teleported me to the others.

I didn't get another chance to write until now so I'm going to recount everything before I head to rest. I am exhausted. Even more so having to carry our new companion on my back after changing form.   After we opened the door, there was a shadowy figure inside. Hymn entered the door way and after a glowing light, he disappeared and was replaced with a golden thread. The figure inside took the thread and started to glow a golden color, going from a dehydrated husk to a health, rejuvenated figure. The figure steps into the light. My thoughts in the moment were "Did I just witness Hymn die? Is he dead? What happened to him?" but the next few moments soothed those thoughts.   They introduced themselves as Ferryman. He explains that Hymn was never real, that he was a dream of sorts. I don't fully understand but I interpret it as Hymn and Ferryman are the same person, just in a different form.   Ferryman only remembers so far as our names, entering the cave, and about Slaughter. He mentioned something about the threads being fickle; he seems very familiar with the threads. After asking where we are, we start to head out of the cave. As we head to the entrance of the cave, Ferryman changes their tone, saying we need to leave now, a sense of urgency in their voice. We were being chased by something, something really dangerous.   As we ran away from the cave down the mountainside, Hornet brings up how we could probably fight it, and at the time, I believed them. We had a plan of attacking from the tree line and if things went bad, we would split up. But when it came to time to fight it, everyone ran but me. I heard gunshots and a knife hit skin before I saw it. The figure was wearing a long, white robe, had curly, orange hair, and was lacking a jaw and several portions of its body. It was terrifying. It looked over at me and I heard a ringing in my head. It asked me if I was trying to hide and it mocked me, calling me a little girl. It said I can hide my thoughts and my body but it will still see me. It said I was lucky I wasn't torn to shreds already. It told me to run, save myself, and that running makes it more fun for it.   Everything in me told me to run, to run as fast and far away as I could. I felt my hands and feet turn into hooves, fur grow on my body, antlers grow out of my head as I changed forms into an elk. It was the fastest creature I could think of at the time and I bolted past the others, who were already running. Ferryman hopped on my back as I ran past them. We ran for hours, the cold wind blowing in my face. When we eventually made it to the foot of the mountain, I changed back to my original form. Ferryman said it was a bumpy ride on my back and said we should be far enough away to rest. I am extremally exhausted, I don't feel safe right now but I need to rest. Good night, journal.

A lot has happened since I last wrote. We decided to focus on the chasm next. Hymn sent a lizard made up of stars down into the chasm and looks through its eyes, relaying what he saw inside. There was a large expansive cave, the sound of water dripping, a lit torch on the wall, and a crypt in the heart of the cave.   Hymn sent his lizard to get closer but it got caught in a spider's web. Fathom and Hymn worked together using a rock enchanted with light to summon a guy down there to help. Fathom called down to him, asking him to find a way to the surface, sending down another rock enchanted with light.   The guy said there is a crypt down there, a light in the corner, and a giant spider. Hymn excavated some of the dirt, moving it out of the way. He peeled back the thin layer of mineral easily, revealing an opening into the cave. We all entered.   Inside the cave, we see a big spider on the ceiling. It was gashed open and killed. This cave seems ancient but the spider was killed recently. Fathom picked up a rusted blade off of the floor. He says the sword is about 30 years old and the blood stains on it about two weeks old. He thinks the blood is the same from the blood trail we saw above ground.   There was a sign of a scuffle here. There are marks on the ground, signs that the door was opened recently but it has been shut for a while. There is a journal discarded on the floor. The crypt door has ancient markings on it.   I pick up the sword. As I picked it up, I felt my muscles tense up and flex in my right arm. I felt like I knew how to use it. I felt fear, desperation, and pain as I held the blade in my hand. I had a vision of a battle taking place here against someone. The sword was dropped and left behind, succumbing to a blazing heat. Its wielder fled deeper into the cave. I communicated this to the others, adding that I think the wielder may be dead by now.   Hornet is at the door of the crypt, trying to figure out how to open it. They pulled out the deacon's longsword and hit the door with it. The stone gives way to its unbendable steel, crumbling with each hit. Hornet then goes to the guy and brings him over to the door. They teleports the guy inside the crypt. The guy opens the door from the inside and the door clicks into a fully open position. The smell of rot fills pours out of crypt like a fog. The cent is followed by a rolling fog of stone dust. I covered my and Erafinyr's nose.   Fathom asked me to touch the door to learn about its construction. I wasn't sure why then but now I know that it's because my ability has changed to feel the past of objects. As I touch the door, I get the feeling of grief, closure and relief as it is shut. I see the door open and I feel panic and fear. I said the door should've stayed closed but the others noted the room looks empty.   Hymn pulls out his scythe, shining light into the crypt. A lifeless body lays on a stone slab, his face locked in an eternal anguish with a sword lodged into its skull. The body looks like it has been decomposing for weeks, and there is scorch marks on the walls, indicated a struggle occurred. A worn leather satchel is against the slab, with spell scrolls and shattered vials scattered along the floor. Hornet moves the corpse off of the slab. It slops into several pieces, leaving a goop of bile over the stone. It looks like the person fought to the bitter end to protect this place and he failed. Judging from the burn marks along the cave outside, it looks like the scuffle started outside the door and came inside. Hymn grabs the blade, impaled into the person's skull and the stone slab. The sword is basically a blunt weapon at this point. He tosses it aside to the giblets.   I was asked by Fathom to see if I can discover any information about this place. I pick up the satchel on the floor. I feel a sense of necessity. I feel desperation as the pockets are emptied. I feel the pockets, once overfilled with spell scrolls and vials, quickly empty, as the owner of the satchel's owner tries to defend themselves. I feel the satchel hit the floor. I decide it is best for me to take the satchel with me; it could prove useful for me and I have a sense that the original owner wouldn't wanted it to go to waste.   I walk over to the gibs of flesh on the ground, reaching down for the sword. My first instinct as I touch it is to recoil, my hand snapping back. I take a deep breath, steeling myself in preparation of what I might see. I am transported through time to when the sword was in its prime. I hear shouting, the banging of spells and guns around me. The clang of metal on metal, metal cutting through flesh. The smell of fresh blood spilling onto soil and stone. I stood in the middle of a battlefield and the sword is cutting down countless foes. I see the sword used on foes, allies. Men, women, children. Innocent people and anyone who dared to protect them, cut through effortlessly. I felt the sword slowly become more blunt, less sharp. But the sheer force, the sheer will of the person wielding it, it only took one or two impacts for it to take down a foe. I witnessed death after death, kill after kill. I feel disgusted. I feel disgusted from seeing all that death but... I felt empathetic towards the blade. This blade should be taken care of, used for its purpose. It felt so good to hold that blade. I felt a sense of pleasure from holding it from the lives. My thoughts were filled with the thoughts of killing. What would it be like to kill someone, I wondered. What would it feel like to feel steel cutting against flesh, to watch the life fade from someone's eyes as I dealt the final blow. I... I am sickened by these thoughts, but it hurt to think about anything else in that moment. For a moment, I felt consumed by the thought of using this blade. But I dropped the blade. I refused to touch that blade again, no matter how tempting it was, how good it felt to hold it in my hands.   After that, Fathom asked me to touch the slab, thinking it may point us to Slaughter. I was very hesitant to touch anything after touching the sword but I agreed. What I see is that who used to reside here. The figure that used to reside here was stirred awake from death. They stood on their own two feet, leaving the slab and presumedly walking to the exit. Then darkness. It felt so wrong, it felt like this place and everything it stood for was dragged through the dirt. Then I saw a mangled face with countless scars, but only for a second. It frightened me and I jumped back. Fathom believes this is the sign that this was Slaughter's resting place.   I look around and I find footprints through the soot. The footsteps lead out the door and through the cave. It leads to a narrow opening. I'm guessing this is the way to the exit. It's a tight opening. As I follow the tracks to the opening, I give one last glance at the sword. Oh, I was so tempted to just pick it up once more but I was also terrified of it. Fathom thinks that we should follow the tracks and asks me if we should. The guy seems distraught about going into the tight space and curls up into a ball, presumedly having a panic attack. He says something along the lines of "not thinking about the ethics of a spell before casting it." Fathom smacks him and the guy seems fine, not indifferent about the thought of death. He goes through the hole first, then I go through. Everyone else follows.   We have been walking for hours, my feet feel tired and my back hurts from crawling and being hunched over. I tried to pass the time by writing everything that has happened so far but not much has happened since the last I wrote. We reached an fork in the cave, one path going down seemingly endlessly, and upwards through a mined tunnel. We went upwards and we reached an expansive opening of a room. The room is covered in snow and ice that has blown in. It's cold but sheltered. Wherever we were, it is not where we came in. Directly to the left of the hole was a huge stone door carved with eyes. To the right and far end of the room was the way out, the footsteps going that way. It smells of decay here.   As we exit the hole, I am hit with a wave of tiredness. I feel like I barely have the energy to write what's going on. The cold feels familiar and the icy floor looks comfortable. I want to sit down just for a minute. Hymn recognizes this place, the large figure dead in the corner. It was a giant who let him stay here for an evening and we are far north of where we once were. Slaughter, or whoever came through here, must've got the giant in its sleep. Hymn tells of his time here, of his friend, and the gift of a compass he got from them. Fathom seems tired too but Hymn and Hornet don't seem to be. Hornet says it's the door making us tired and we should leave. Where we are is the same distance to Hrorilad as Hrorilad is to the Tower.   I slowly inched torwards the door. I wanted to touch it, learn about it. See why it is here. From what I understand, this door has never been opened but... I'm curious. I put my hand to the door. I feel desperation, weakness. The sense of self-preservation echoes through me. I feel a desperate cry of exertion and like I'm trying to preserve myself. I felt so tired. I passed out.   I woke up not long after, having had the weirdest dream. Everyone surrounded me and I recounted my dream to them.   I was pondering something, though I don't know what. Wondering what I should do. I was looking into a pool of water, the reflection of the water being an endless void. In the water, I see a golden spark within. It calls to me so strongly. I reached for it. Everything changed around me. A long golden thread wrapped its way around my arm and I knew I had to exert my will against it. I felt everything drain out of me, my energy, my self, everything. I tried to pull on the string and tried to let go of it but it was too late. The words "No, you are not going to die here" echoes. I then found myself watching a mountain. I felt the feeling of going through the sky so fast. I was a comet coming from the heavens. I felt it slam into the side of the mountain. The dream cuts and I experienced what I could only imagine as the end of everything. Everything was so quiet, so dark. The stars in the sky slowly went out, one by one. As the last star faded, so did I and everything else. There was a crash of thunder and I woke up.   I felt a deep sorrow about leaving the door unopened. I felt empathetic torwards the door, I felt like I needed to help. I think we should open the door.   The others agree and Hymn and Fathom brace either side of the door and push. They slowly push the door open. As the door opens, the tiredness fades and the etchings of the eyes on the door close. As the door opened just a crack, a beaming light pierces through the crack. The door crumbles, turning into dust. The golden light dims and a shadow is left behind as a figure on the floor. Fathom runs over to it. The figure slowly wakes up, standing up.

50 to 80 years ago, Hornet woke up in a plane that isn't their home plane. They grew up in Feyheim, on top of a plateau. They lived with their family of them and twelve others. They were very sheltered, though they only learned this after the fact. They were not allowed to leave the plateau, let alone even entertain the idea of leaving. One day when they were young, a bird flew by. They had never seen a bird before, so they went to go see what the bird was. They were scolded for this and this made them upset, so they tried to leave. They didn't think much of it, not even thinking about how to get down the sheer sides of the plateau. They fell off, they only really remembered falling and waking up somewhere different. They woke up with the inky markings on their skin.   These markings were not as spread out as they appear now. Hornet did not know what it was, and they didn't know whatever it touches it evaporates. They believe it ages anything it touches so fast that it turns to dust. They thought it was cool but very scary. They thought how to cover it up, figuratively and literally. Eventually, they linked up with a magic tattoo artist, who helped them find a way to cover it up, which they decided on ropes and clear gloves. Hornet says it is hot and functional, haha.   Over time and the more stuff that gets evaporated, the more the mark grows on them. Hornet has no idea what it is and no one they've known knew about it. However, it is not a high priority for them to figure out right now, they say it is manageable. They pulled aside their ropes to give us a better look at them. They were dark, almost like they were absorbing light. But it was also a bit reflective, like how hair is when it is wet.   They talked about how they got their name. They didn't have a name for a long time and one day, with alcohol involved, they were referred to by something along the lines of Hornet and it stuck. They remember their old name but they don't see it as important. They are not the same person as that person.   Fathom wishes to stay to help Asmod. After hearing his story, I can feel the same. Surely there is a world where his powers can be used for a good use. Maybe willpower would help with controlling it, like Hornet said. However, Asmod is afraid of their very nature coming back and of the voice coming back.   These ruins are to be learned from, according to Asmod. I already learned a great deal from it with seeing its entire history. But maybe what we are supposed to learn is about who is here, not what is. The others think it's a waypoint but Asmod says the lesson is the danger of power and that problems, destruction, and anguish will always be in this world. After some talk about the Ruins of Creation and about Asmod's power, Asmod asks if we found what we were searching for here and that we have someone we are looking for so we should go. Fathom offers Asmod an invitation to join us for a little while, and he says it is a bad idea to bring someone along with destructive power, let alone have two of them in the same group, most likely referring to Hornet.   Asmod asked us all what we all thought about him, remarking we have been quiet, probably me and Hymn. Hymn says he was quiet because it is not his place to talk, and Hornet refutes by saying all because he is made of stars doesn't mean he's not a person.   I was asked for my opinion. I said I didn't have much of an opinion because I have been writing everything down. I told Asmod that his story is very interesting. He says we all have interesting stories and wonders how we all got together in the first place. This makes me think about my place in the party. A powerful masked man, a celestial being made of stars, an elf who's able to turn things to ash with their touch. I feel... out of place almost. Maybe I'll feel less out of place when I get to know the others more. I've already learned a big deal about Hornet from this talk, maybe I should put the same effort of learning into Fathom and Hymn.   Asmod stands up and puts his lute down and stands up, pulling off his robe. The first thing I notice is the circular hole where his heart would be and all the burn marks and tattoos all over his body. He says he would come along but what has happened to him cannot be undone and he was never given a second chance. He is not "still here" and he has learned a lesson, as have we. He says he is merely a trial and that we have succeeded. He is thankful for hearing our stories, for returning his eyes, and convincing him he can change. He says we can do this for others as well. He steps away from the obelisk and as he does, he turns into a golden dust and blows away, leaving behind a singular floating golden strand, emanating a soft golden light.   Fathom goes up to the golden strand, without a word. He grabs the strand, it wraps around his hand and makes his veins glow for a second, then it recoils from his grasp. We all decide to try it. I tried next.   When I grabbed the strand, I felt it weave its way out of my grasp and up my arm. It had a burning sensation on my skin, not hot enough to make my nerves recoil but hot enough to where it hurt a little. I felt this warmth make its way to my chest. I looked around and it was like time stood still. I felt at odds for a moment, like I was being given a choice. I stood in this state for a moment, unsure what to think. I thought about Memory, I thought about the others. I chose to hold on. As I did, the strand recoiled from me, landing in front of me. My skin cooled down and something felt different.   Fathom suggests trying together but Hymn decides he will go first by himself. They pick up the stand and it recoils like it did for me and Fathom. Hornet takes their turn, grabbing it very carefully and slowly. I see it whisp away into their heart, and their veins glow a bright golden color. The strand doesn't recoil, like it is accepting them. I smell burning flesh for a moment and something appears on their chest. The glow goes away.   Fathom asks what's different and Hornet says they feel more aware and capable. Whatever was on their chest, it looks like it was burnt into their skin. The markings that were exposed on them move on their own, like soap on water. They form into a different shape. The mark looks like a brand and has a metallic, almost crystal sheen to it. It looks like it has depth to it, as its view changes as I move my head around.   Fathom offers we should take the road again or to see where the blood trail went. Hymn remarks that he might be able to get down into the ravine. A piece of him falls off and takes the form of a starry lizard and heads torwards the ravine.   While this happens, I have an idea. What if I were to use my ability on the necklace I made for Memory? Would I be able to sense its past like I did for the beacon? I'll try it when we get a rest next.

28th of Shar 358   Asmod seems to ponder whether or not he should actually tell his tale. He asks us why we need to know about him. Fathom asked him for his "true" name and to know more about him, and remarks how some magic requires to know a person's true name to contact them. He seems concerned that we flaunt magic so openly. He wishes he was as bold as we were. Asmod fears that we might know who he was, or rather who he once was. He says he is not as he once was and that he has went through many cycles of change, life, and death. He says that others may have gone through this cycle as well, just unknowingly. Remembering these cycles and going through these cycles are a burden that "people like him" must carry, he says. This reminds me of Memory and his stories.   Hornet questions if that is the same as everlasting life and that if that is something everyone wants. Asmod says that its not the same as that. Restarting anew is something everyone does, whether or not they know or remember it. He says he misses the days of being whisked around the world but does not miss being hunted down. He says he learned his lesson long ago, to not make a scene or to be seen. He learned to enjoy life and everything around as it forms and reforms.   There is a slight topic change as Hornet asks how Asmod feels about talent versus skill. They ask him if people born with talent are better then people who work for it. Asmod says it depends. Some are born with power, such as sorcerers and icons. Others aren't. He says that in this world, with enough willpower, anything is possible. They used to think natural born skill and talent was everything when they were young, but they tried to learn more skills. Even that was not enough to defeat "the willpower of man". I can agree with him, I think the willpower to do something is what you need in this world, not natural born talent or skills.   Asmod says he was born with a lot of power and he let it consume him when he was younger. He had to let it all go to keep living. The one who took his eyes took his power. He doesn't want to hurt anyone ever again, and staying here, he won't. He also feels safe here. People hearing his tales is more than enough for him. Fathom finds this discouraging, that he would give up on something that matters to him. Asmod says it doesn't matter to him anymore and that it is for everyone's good. He believes we won't understand what being born with immense power does to one's mind. You suddenly develop something and everyone is scared of you. Everywhere you go, everything just turns to ash, metaphorically and literally.   Asmod says Hornet knows what he is talking about and they remark they just want to hear him say it. Fathom changes topics briefly to ask about the golden and silver strands, throwing up a minor illusion to show what they look like. He asks where we saw them and he explains we saw it in a vault of sorts, kind of dancing around calling it a Ruin of Creation. He brings up the Scribe and how powerful he was in a previous life.   Asmod decides to tell us who he is, not because we gave him his eyes back but because he is interested in us. He says he will share on the condition that [[Hornet]] will share their story, as he noticed a spark in their eyes when he mentioned leaving ash in his wake.   Asmod was born long ago. One day, when he hit the middle point of his youth, something came to him. He could feel it in his veins, a power that was already there and a little voice in his head. That night, he awoke to the sounds of screams. He laid in a bed of flames and surrounded by ash. He didn't realize at the time that it was his fault. He would search for a long time to find out who did it and would burn things in his wake.   He used to be referred to by [Ember, for his red hair and the fires he would leave in his wake. His young anger turned into pride, and he took this pride to search for answers. When he learned it was him doing these terrible things, they embraced it. He took what he saw as destiny and his purpose, and he followed through. He discovered as much knowledge as he could, leaving more ash and fire in his wake. He learned one day when he was put in his place by someone he referred to as "simple" that he is not all powerful. That his destiny is not to burn and that they can be "simple" despite the weight on his shoulders. He doesn't wish to return to that life. When he was born anew, this lesson ran through him. His powers came back, but this time, he ran away. He travelled for a long time and eventually found his way here. At this place, the little voice in his head stops.   Fathom is empathetic, saying that it is an unfortunate fate even if it was one they made for themselves. He thinks there is another path and that there is something more beneficial then removing himself from the equation. He believes there is a time where Asmod may be able to leave this place and mend the past. [[Asmod]] says he just wants to live a peaceful life in the woods. He does not know where his place in the world would be. Fathom responds, saying that this is a strange new world and that there is a place for everything, including destruction.   All that is left of Asmod's power now is simple destruction. Every step he takes chars the ground beneath him. When they turn their head around to look over their shoulder, it is barren and gray. Metaphorically, mainly.   Fathom mentions how he fell into a well and can now do funky stuff that he can't control. He says there is a level of self-restraint to it. [[Asmod]] asks if [[Fathom]] has ever been the reason for any destruction outside of their control. [[Hornet]] said they have. [[Asmod]] wants to find a way to fit in without ruining everything around him. It's Hornet's turn to tell his story.

Today, we continued our travels to Hrorilad. As we travelled the road, I noticed a trail beginning along the road. There was a trail of blood. I pointed it out to the others, and we began to follow the trail. It lead to the edge of the road and continued into the wilderness. The others believe it could be related to Slaughter, so we continue to follow the blood trail until we make it to the edge of a ravine. There was a jagged dip between one side and the other. The blood trail stopped right at the edge and I heard flowing water coming from below. On the other side of the ravine sat an altar and the sound of music. I peeked down the ravine and saw that it started really wide and then quickly gets really narrow. If any of us were to fall in, we definitely would get stuck. Looking over at the altar, I saw a flat stone surface around an obelisk. I couldn't make out if there is any text on the obelisk from this distance. After some debate as to what to do, we decided to go around the ravine to go look at the altar.   As we approached the altar, I noticed a faint glow it immitted. There is text on it in a language I didn't understand. The stone platform on which the obelisk sits is wide enough to sit or provide offerings. It reminds me of something I have seen before, though I am unsure what. The music had grown louder, seeming to come from behind the obelisk. It sounded like a lute. From where we stood, we could see their leg, a garment, and the head of the lute. They spoke to us, saying its okay to approach and to not be shy. I noticed Fathom touch their new shield then untense. He must've discerned that this person was being truthful. Hornet walks around the obelisk, reading the text. I drew a picture of the obelisk and wrote down everything that has happened so far today.   Fathom inquires this person about the icon of Slaughter. They ask about the story behind them, and he recounts what we know to them. They say it is an interesting tale after Fathom says that there was necromancy involved. Afterwards, Fathom looked torwards the obelisk and I noticed that he looked excited. He and the person exchange song.   I sat down next to the obelisk, leaning against it with my shoulder as I wrote about what is happening. I could hear a deep hum and a soft glow emanating from it. I reach out my hand to it, running my hand along the stone. It felt like my hand glided along it, like it was smooth as glass. The texture did not feel like how I thought it would.   I started to feel empathetic torwards the obelisk, though I do not know what. I was washed over with a feeling of nothingness, like real inexistence. The world around me went dark; it was just me and the obelisk. I sat in this feeling for a moment, then I felt the world grow around me. I felt a sense of purpose. I then felt age. It started slowly, with time passing by the minute. Then it progressed to by the hour, by the day, by the week, by the month. I felt seasons pass by, days and nights passing by in a matter of seconds. I experienced astronomical phenomena I had never experienced in my lifetime; eclipses, comets, stars falling from the sky, beams of light strewn across the sky. I experienced people and creatures alike come to this obelisk, paying their respects completely unknowing as to what they were paying respect to. I felt the coldness of the snow, the wetness of the rain, the chilled winds. 1,300 seasons passing by at quicker and quicker pace. I felt the fingers that had touched the beacon before me; from strong hands to delicate fingers, from childlike hands to the brittle and the worn. I felt... my own fingertips as I came back to the present moment, a sense of acknowledgement fills me.   I don't know much else that had happened between my time experiencing what the obelisk had for me. When I came to, the others had apparently restored the eyesight of the person who played the lute. They introduced themselves as Asmod. I had to take a double take when I heard the name, it sounded very similar to that of my teacher. I briefly mentioned my experience and I felt a sense of excitement while I waited to be able to share more of my experience with the others. Asmod mentions how a man stood and listened to his song and went on his way, whom he believes may be the source of the blood trail we had followed. He asked Fathom why he wears his mask, and he is silent. He says it is nothing that can be fixed.   Fathom gestures us all together to communicate what we have discovered about the obelisk. I was practically bouncing with excitement to share what I had seen. Hornet told us that this place is called the Beacon of Devotion. Fathom told us that this place is "infinitely old". I shared my journal with the others, allowing them to read over my experience. I also briefly mention how Asmod sounds eerily close to my teacher's name, but that this is not my teacher.   Hornet turns to Asmod and asks if they are entuned with any icons in particular. Such a strange question. He responds, asking why they care. Hornet says they were just curious and gives a short explanation as to what an Icon is. Asmod said they sound a bit crazy.   Fathom took out the bud of the golem we had defeated yesterday and offers it at the base of the obelisk. He briefly fiddled with his mask, contemplating something. He then shrugged it off and instead dug in his pockets, placing a shock battery at the obelisk.   Asmod believes we are here for them for some reason. When we asked why and who they are, they said it is better that we do not know. He mentions how despite not being in the hustle and bustle of a city, he still ran into the most interesting of people. This place is an escape for him. Fathom mentions again that we are here in pursuit of Slaughter, and Asmod says that pursuit and escape are one in the same. Fathom says there is more to life to escape. Asmod shrugs it off, switching topics to why the obelisk is of interest to us. Fathom mentions it is a creation before time, so it is terribly interesting, and Hornet says that they wonder if it can lead us to Slaughter.   Asmod asked us if Slaughter is an icon. We collectively say that they are. He then asked us if any of us are icons. I wanted to mention I was the student of an icon, but I didn't want to muddy up the conversation or confuse him even more. Fathom, in turn, asked if he is an icon. There is a pause, and Asmod says they talk too much and they should just play their tunes. We pushed to learn more about him and he sighs. He said he was going to tell us a tale of who he once was. It is not a happy song, he said.

The past few days have been uneventful. Most of what I have done over the past few days is help the others when they need it and gathering herbs to press into my notebook. We decided today to set up camp early today. Over the past few days, we haven't heard anything on Slaughter, nor have we seen any possible signs of them.   It's not long after that we started setting up camp that I began to smell something. The others must have smelled it too because I could feel the anxiety rise among us. It smelled like iron rusting, of dust. The smell slowly grew stronger, and it started to hurt my nose how strong it got. Hornet climbed a tree to see if they could see the source of the smell. The feeling of anxiety changed to a feeling of being watched.   We started looking around for the source of the smell. There was a figure standing in the road down the way we came, staring at us. It was a bit hard to see them from this distance, but I could make out they were armed with a sword and a shield with the symbol of an eye on it. As they continued their approach, I could make out the belts on their armor, the eye symbol emblazoned across their chest, and their masked face.   They continued to march closer, moving at a steady pace. Their pace made it difficult to discern what their intent was, though we know now that it was negative intent. They marched methodically but quickly; the speed that they marched at was about the speed that I would powerwalk. Fathom threw up illusions, requesting the figure to speak their intent and if they can speak. But the figure kept marching on. They walked straight through our group and continued their march, stamping through the fire we had set up. Embers sparked up from the impact. The smell was really strong now.   Fathom broke the silence, saying to the figure, "You are a bit outside of your jurisdiction, deacon." The figure stopped their march, now positioned with us surrounding us. Fathom speaks again, saying that words would work better than swords right now. However, they didn't respond or rather they seem like they didn't care to respond. They turned around, looking at each of us in turn. First to Hornet, then me, then Hymn, and lastly Fathom. They reached into their pouch and threw iron shavings into the air. They methodically take out a tool from their hip, making a whipping movement with it. The saw blade along it began to spin and send out sparks as it hit the iron shavings. The iron shavings started to form together, almost like it was a figure disintegrating in reverse. An iron flower grew from the ground then turned into a skull. Vines, arms, and legs appeared and a sickle manifested. The golem that the deacon had summoned towered over me; it had a soft red glow emanating from the skull, the flower on its head, and gaps on its arms and legs. The deacon's golem stood there, staring straight at Fathom. The deacon reached to their helmet and as they did, a smokey, black wisp comes from their neck and helmet. Their head began to float in the air, and they draw their sword. The golem gets into a battle-ready position.   When the golem changed stance, I knew that fighting was the only way out of this. I stepped back and tried to aim my bow at the now-floating helmet. I shot my arrow, but it flew past the helmet. The guardian raised its arm and attacked Fathom. As he stepped out of the way of the attack, a bolt of lightning struck the floating helmet. The lightning bounced from the floating head back to the armored body, and then to the golem. Red electricity bounced on the body of the golem. A brief silence followed before thunder boomed, shaking the ground beneath my feet. During that moment of silence, I looked over at Hymn. The constellations and stars that made up their body shifted around, the constellations seeming to almost reorganize themselves and the stars that made up his face changing place. Fathom grew in size, almost doubling in size. He then created a dagger made of ice with their breath and threw it at the deacon. It missed, but as it flew past the floating head, the knife shattered. The armored body stumbled back a little, then a moment later, inky tendrils descended from the tree that Hornet was in. The armored body of the deacon held out its arm, aiming with their weapon at Fathom. It fired two gunshots.   I took a deep breath and focused on my magical energy. As I stood there, focused on the decision of shifting my form into a panther, I felt my body begin to shift and contort. My bones broke and reformed in an instant, my muscles bulging and shrinking, and fur sprouting from every inch of my body. My nails turned into sharp claws, my teeth growing into fangs, and I became more aware of my surroundings. As I opened my eyes, I dashed forward toward the armored body of the deacon, jumping up in the air. I'm not sure why I expected them to move out of the way, as I accounted for them moving out of the way in my attack and it missed. I turned my head and saw the guardian attack Fathom with its sickle. In one unrelenting swing, it made a hole straight through their chest. I'd never seen so much blood before... The golem's unrelenting, strict movements were really scary. Hymn lunged at the deacon with their scythe in hand. They leaned forward, did a wide spin, and cut straight through the torso of the deacon. The upper torso went flying, and the floating helmet dropped to the ground, bouncing a little. They then run over and puts themselves between the golem and Fathom. Hornet appears at Fathom's position, digging through his big pockets and pulling out the healing ointment. They smeared it over the giant hole in Fathom's chest, and the wound started to close.   With the deacon down, that just left the golem. I lunged at the golem from behind, but my claw barely scraped past its metal body. I was worried that my attack would mean it would attack me next, and seeing how it took down Fatho with one swipe, I started to back away. The golem walked over to Fathom's position and stabbed straight down into his chest, standing over him. Hymn tried to swipe at it with their scythe, but their attack missed. Hornet smears more ointment on Fathom's wounds.   I once again lunged at the golem from behind, and this time my claw made contact. However, the wound created by the scratch looked nothing more than cosmetic. Hymn lit up like a beacon and attacked the golem with their scythe, leaving a big gash across the golem's body. Afterwards, Hymn releases a big burst of energy. I was in range of the attack, so I got hit by it as well, but it doesn't hurt much now. The golem attacked Fathom again. This time, however, Fathom started to stand in response, towering over the golem. He pointed the barrel of his gun straight at its forehead, pushing down on it as he stood. He fired a shot, but it slid off of the golem's head like it did nothing. Perhaps the bullets were made of a weaker material then the golem was. Hornet called out, saying that it only wanted to go after Fathom, and they positioned themselves between him and the golem. They suggested we should all get between them. They extruded inky tendrils from beneath their bandages, perhaps to try and grapple the golem.   I ran over to next to Hornet, changing back to my original form. I look over at Fathom and outstretched my hand. A warm, golden light emanated from my hand and washed over his wounds. Not all of his wounds closed, but I mainly put my focus into closing the big ones. After, I turned around and give it an icy stare. Hymn attacked the golem again, cleaving a hole through its chest. They opened a hole to the golem's "heart". It looked like the bud of a flower, and it was glowing red. It started to glow brighter. The golem seemed enraged and it started to go after Hymn, swinging its arms around violently and without direction. It seemed like it was trying to preserve itself. I heard Fathom take a deep breath in and out behind me. Ice formed on their mask, and icicles came out of the holes of the mask, hitting the golem. He then ran up to it and continuously stomped on it until it was down.   As I am writing this, Fathom is back to his normal size. We decided to go back to setting up camp. Fathom and Hornet perused through the remains of the golem and the deacon. Fathom took the "heart" of the golem and the deacon's shield. Fathom set up their tent and went right to sleep, and the others followed not long after. I'm having trouble calming down enough to sleep. I'd been in fights before, but none so dire and with death so close. I'm pretty sure Fathom would've died if he didn't still have that ointment, and that is a scary thought. And to think that I had almost run into mage hunters in the past as well, there is no way I would've gotten out of a fight with one by myself. I am thankful that I had Ymir back then to help get me out of there. I'm not sure why the deacon and the golem were so set on Fathom; there is so much I don't know about the others and they don't know much about me either. Maybe I should open up, seeing as we will be together for a while. I should try to get some rest. Maybe tomorrow, we will find something relating to Slaughter.   Good night, journal.

We continued to talk amongst ourselves until Solas'dir came back, and I comforted Erafinyr. After some time, the room falls silent. He finally arrives, and he tells us Sage will not be joining us for this meeting. He says that Sage wishes to come to an understanding of this world himself by reading the whole library. Reading the whole library seems like a bit of an impossible task, but seeing as he may be an Icon, I can see it being somewhat possible. Almost as if appearing as I blink, the old man from the lobby appears in the doorway. I believe Agabarya was his name. He had a job for us, and we accepted it. Our new job involves the Icon of Slaughter. He believes that they have been raised from the dead. It is too soon for it to be a reincarnation. He says if they were raised from the dead, both they and the person who raised them would be trivial to fight, and he wishes us not to engage in a fight with them. What he wishes for is Slaughter's whereabouts and the source of their return. The reward he wishes to give us is "power". He will give us whatever is in his power. Maybe he can find someone who may know where Memory is. Fathom remarks that this is just information gathering and shouldn't be too difficult if we don't engage. The others start strategizing amongst each other; I am writing down what we were told. Someone matching the description of Slaughter was seen north-east of here, Hrorilad. Agabarya believes that Slaughter is not at full power yet, but even with that, they are still dangerous. Slaughter's power is consistency in murder to a scary degree, almost like a butcher. Slaughter is the reason that Agabarya has lost his vision. He brings us to the cartographer's office to get the cartographer's tools for Hymn. There are maps everywhere, from small local ones to a map of the whole continent. Across the table in the middle of the room sits a model map of the immediate area around the tower. Agabarya brings out a giant crate filled with tools. Hymn has a cartographer's toolkit now. I dug in it as well and ended up getting a cut on my hand. Erafinyr took a magnifying glass. Shortly after, we headed out on the road to travel to Hrorilad. There was some debate about whether to cut through the wilderness or follow the roads, but we ultimately decided to follow the roads to see if we could gather more information. As we settled down for the night, Fathom had a magical episode of sorts. Summoning creatures I've never seen before, disappearing and reappearing—just a lot of strange things. All because they tried to summon a person to help them build a tent. In the future, I will help them with building their tents, aha. Today… was a long day. A lot has happened, and it is a lot to process, and we have a lot ahead of us. I am sure we can complete this mission, and I feel a lot of hope knowing I may be reunited with Memory. Good night, journal. Begin writing your story here...

I walked around the halls of the private rooms, looking for someone to talk to, someone who could help, wondering where I should go. I passed by so many doors and plaques that they started to blend together. I must've gone around the tower at least three times before I came across a room by itself that I swear was not there before. The plaque read "Master of Foresight". I looked back and saw that I was in a hallway that I had never been through before. I saw the others walk past the hallway. I took a deep breath and entered the door. As soon as I open the door, it smells of home. Surprised, I looked around, and that picture felt even more real. This was the outskirts of Eldercairn; it felt and looked like that clearing, which I had spent many nights in with Memory, down to the most minute details. The flowers against the trees, the herbs in the nearby forest, the soft glow of the candlelight of the village in the distance. In front of me was a campfire, and a figure was sitting against a tree just outside of its light. A featureless face with grayish skin. The figure stands up and moves into the campfire's light, where it transforms into a familiar face. They looked just like Memory, though not perfectly. It sent a shiver down my spine just how close they did look like him. I asked them about my search for my teacher, and they said that they forsee us meeting again soon. However, they said I would not like what I saw. But I will also be happy to be reunited. They said I will have to make a choice and that they are curious to see how this will unfold. Knowing will not change the outcome. Shortly after, almost as I blinked, I was back in the hallway, staring at a blank wall. I ran into the others at the stairs. I'm not sure how I feel about being referred to as the "little one". I wrote about what just happened as we headed to and sat down in Solas'dir's office. I can't get the image of the figure's appearance as Memory out of my head. What did they mean by I won't like what I see when I reunite with Memory? Did something happen to him? What did they mean by my knowing not changing the outcome? Has everything that will result in our reunion already happened? I have so many questions, but so many answers from such a short exchange. I do not know whether to feel relieved or... I don't know exactly how to feel about this new information. I can think more deeply about this later. The others begin to recount their experiences in the tower with each other while we wait for Solas'dir to get back with our new job. Hornet spent their time looking at books about tattoos and found information about a sorcerer from the past. Hymn had run into the Master of Foresight just as I had and gotten interpretations of their dreams. Fathom met with someone known as the Realmseeker and received a gift of a watch from them. Apparently Solas'dir was searching in his archives for some information for Fathom. Fathom also talked about their experiences in some sort of alternate reality and how their watch tells the time but as a before and now and a tomorrow, and... it makes my head spin; I can't even grasp how they tried to explain it. Hornet called to me, asking if "this one" was mine. I knew immediately they were referring to Erafinyr, and I called out to her, asking what she was doing. She was on Hornet's shoulder, drawing something on his ropes. Another one of her pranks, it seems. She returned to me, and Hornet gave an explanation of why not to touch them like Erafinyr just did. They picked up a succulent from nearby, undid the ropes, and took their glove off. They picked up the succulent with their bare hand and within 10 seconds, the succulent turned to ash. Hornet gave Erafinyr a pass because what she drew was funny. But Erafinyr was absolutely terrified. She hid on my shoulder, shaking, and whispered that she wouldn't go near Hornet again. We continued to talk amongst ourselves until Solas'dir came back, and I comforted Erafinyr.

I found myself heading to one of the many libraries in this tower. I ran my fingers along the book spines, going row by row, to see if anything peeked my interest. I eventually arrived in a section of the library that was quieter than the other sections. A light layer of dust blanketed the shelves, the furniture, and the books. At the end of this area was a circular window with a little nook. The sunlight poured into the room; if there was anywhere I would love to turn into a cat and lay down, it would be here. As I got closer to this nook, I saw a bookcase along the wall and books strewn around on the cushion. Sat in the nook was a person, curled in the corner with a book in hand. She had long, flowing black hair, a long shirt, and piercing green eyes. As I approached, she looked up at me. After building up the courage, I asked her if she knew of anyone who could help me find my teacher, Memory. She seemed confused by the question, remarking that she thought I was talking about a teacher here in the tower. I ask again, this time referring to my teacher as Åsmund. I stood nervously awaiting her reply. She then asked why I thought she was the right person to ask. I was unsure how to answer. She then said I came to the right bookworm and asked me to come sit with her. She cast a spell I did not recognize, and books started to come off the shelves, as if they were pulled off by invisible hands. Two books seemed to walk over to the nook by themselves before being placed in front of me. One book, titled "Forgotten Struggles", was very worn and dusty. The other, titled "Oblivion to all but One", had an intricately patterned cover and binding. I sat there, looking at the books placed in front of me, nervous to say anything more. Her piercing green eyes felt as if they were reading my face like a book. She said that Memory was an interesting character based on what she had read. I know her now as Folio. Shortly after this, I gave her my journal to read over to see how I met Memory and my travels with him. The first book I decided to read was "Forgotten Struggles". The introduction explained how the book tells the stories of several lives. It was written by my teacher, Carrier of Forgotten Struggles. It tells of disturbing, tragic, and cruel tales of people long forgotten. Though I guess now that I know of these stories, they are no longer doomed to be. I never knew Memory had these stories, nor did I know he even wrote a book. Folio says that this book is at least 50 years old and that nothing has been written about Memory in decades. My writings about Memory in my journal seem to be more important than I thought they were when I wrote them. I then read through "Oblivion to all but One". It read as an outsider's perspective of Memory's struggles. The observer, seemingly the author, followed Memory for a long period of time, and they remarked about how someone holding the burdens he holds is fascinating to them. They write about the stories that Memory told and how he seemed to be put at ease when a story he tells was remembered. This storyteller the book talks about does not match the hermit I know Memory as, but he did tell me stories and seemed to be at ease when I would write them down and remember them. I feel like the author is relatable to me, as I have been following Memory for a long time. I hope this time being separated from him will not be long. I thanked Folio for her help, and I decided to wander to the private rooms on the third floor. These books were helpful, but I'm hoping to find someone who can give more answers than books can. Especially since there has been nothing written of him for decades. Along my way to the third floor, I came back into contact with Hornet, the elf from the group I have been traveling with. They remark on how I am the quiet type and ask me what I am hoping to find in the tower, and I tell them about my search for my teacher. They seem to think that my teacher is someone who teaches at the tower; I do not remember if I corrected that thought or not. They separated from me as we passed Solas'dir's office, and I continued upwards to the private offices.

I just got my notebook back, so I'm writing down everything that happened during the conversation with Solas'dir. This man is apparently our employer, who recruited us for a mission to what he calls the "Ruins of Creation". There are other names for these places, but Ruins of Creation has a ring to it that I am fond of. Our mission was to get the scroll that tells the story of Sage—at least, we presume it is about Sage. I gave him the scroll, seeing as that was our objective. There was some protest about giving the scroll from the others, but Sage didn't seem to mind and it was their scroll. This place seems to operate as a knowledge exchange. Our reward for returning the scroll to Solas'dir is free access to the tower's libraries and knowledge. Solas'dir talked about his theories about the scribe. He believes he is an Icon, or at least an incarnation of one. He confirms that he believes the scroll is about Sage and that it is unlikely they know much of anything. He said that we "went somewhere nobody has been before, brought someone who hasn’t been seen before so knows nothing". He seems certain that Sage does not possess the powers stated in the scroll, saying it would be disastrous if they did. The rest went over my head, with him mentioning how he believes there was a time before our own and that Sage is of the same being as the one in the scroll but in a different form. Trying to wrap my head around that made my head swim. Sage also didn't seem to care for the conversation, asking about when we would get food. Solas'dir also mentioned that his focus of study is on these Ruins of Creation. Fathom brings up their search for their friend to Solas'dir. He remarks that they could find someone for their search in the halls. He then asks for us to leave, as they want to talk to Sage privately. After I left the room and we parted ways with the rest of the group, I asked Erafinyr about the gap in my memory and what happened between our time in Zetsubou to when we reunited outside the Ruins of Creation. She remarked that during our time in Zetsubou, an employment flyer seemingly fell to my feet, with a reward of knowledge. We were then recruited for a mission to search the Ruins of Creation alongside the others in the group. When we first arrived in the tower, she got separated from me, so she is unsure what happened during that time. We then went to the location of the ruins, and that was the second time we got separated. I think the reason for the gap in my memory, or even in all of our memories, happened during one of these two separations. I remember why I accepted this mission. I wanted to see if there was anyone who knew of Memory's whereabouts, or someone who would know of him. This place keeps records of history even before history existed, there has to be someone who knows about him, right? I'm going to search the halls for someone who might know about him.

The past few days of travel have gone by uneventfully. Today, we finally arrived at the tower that Hornet saw days ago. It's huge, not as big as the tower in Zetsubou but bigger than any other tower I'd seen. The tower stood tall by itself, glowing with a harsh glow. The Tower of Golden Ancestry, it is called. It is somewhat of a religious place, a place devoted to the study of the world's history. It definitely was not abandoned; I could see someone looking at us from an upper story window. The door was left ajar, and I felt pulled to enter. After some talk among the group, we entered the building. As we entered the tower, we were greeted by a room. The floor was made of marble, and there was comfy-looking furniture around with artifacts everywhere. I had never seen someone look so elegant since my short time in Dathodine. At the end of the room stood an unattended desk where you would expect someone to be there to greet people. I couldn't help but look around the room in awe. I heard someone clear their throat in the direction of the desk. An old man appeared as if from thin air; I did not feel him enter the room. His hair was black, and his beard was snowy white. His eyes seemed to have a haze to them. He welcomes us and asks if there is anything we need help with. Fathom begins to explain our adventure up until now to him. The man seems confused, saying that he has not heard of the places that Fathom mentions. I heard someone coming down the stairs on the left. It was the man looking at us earlier. He greets us as well, welcoming us back (?) to the tower. He dismisses the old man, who disappears into thin air as he does. He leads us upstairs, passing by galleries and libraries. During the walk up, I whispered to Erafinyr and asked if she recognized this man. She nodded. We entered into a nice study, nicer than any study I had ever seen. There were comfy looking chairs, a fireplace, and rows of book shelves. When we were settled, Hornet, obviously flustered, asked for his name. He seems surprised that we don't remember him. He introduces himself to us as Solas'dir. I am going to hand him this notebook so he may see a first hand account of our adventure. (cont.)

The past few days have gone a lot smoother than I expected. Nothing happened that we couldn't handle, and we didn't need to worry about food thanks to Hymn's game collection skills. When we reached the clearing, all I could smell was something rotting. It was overpowering and made my eyes water. I had to plug Erafinyr's nose with my fingers. Further out in the clearing, there was a giant hole filled with burned bodies. I had never seen something like this before, it made my gut wrench. Why would someone bury so many bodies together? Why did these people get treated like slaughtered animals? Now, I know that they died from disease rather than being killed by someone or something, but still, they at least deserve a proper burial.   Hornet found a village about half a mile from where we were, and we headed there. The stench from the rotting bodies made my eyes water as we walked around it. After a closer look, I saw that it looked like the skin was eaten off of the bodies, exposing muscle and bone. When we arrived to the village, we found it already looted; there were no signs of any sort of battle, and it was eerily quiet.   Fathom informed us that they found an undead in one of the homes. They said they were fine and that they were going to give the body a proper burial. The group splits up to see what we can find, I walked around town. Erafinyr was very spooked; she wanted to get out of this town as soon as possible. She was right, we shouldn't stay here long. I hated how much this place reminded me of home as I walked through the empty streets.   We then met up in the center of town, and we communicated our findings. Hornet found out that the bodies are people who died to a disease that eats away at the skin as the person is still alive and then turns the person into an undead at nightfall. The disease spreads by touch, so it is best not to touch the bodies. I wouldn't want to touch the bodies in the first place. The scribe had wandered off, back over to the mass grave, so we headed there.   When we arrived, we found… the scarf eating the bodies out of the pile. The scribe remarked that the scarf was hungry. It was disgusting. These are people—well, they were people. The scarf had already eaten half of the pile. The scribe said not to worry about the scarf catching the disease, and we take his word on that. I hope we don't have to deal with an undead mimic in the future.   Before we left the pile, we covered it up with dirt and rocks. On our way out, Hornet once again suggests that the scribe choose a name for us to call them by. They chose the name Sage. Sage, Scribe of Cadence, has a nice ring to it. We left the town just before night fell. We continued on our quest to find the building that Hornet saw the other day. I hope we find it soon. Good night, journal.

The moment we open the scroll, we are transported to a new place. We were in a field of yellowing grass and were near a cave that had collapsed in on itself. I feel like the cave is where we just were and that we won't be going back to that place soon. I felt relieved, like we are closer to completing what we went there for, but I am still unsure why I feel this way. The scribe squats near the cave with a look of confusion on their face. The scroll was in a language that looked really old, and the scroll itself felt very old—almost as old as time itself. But it also felt new at the same time. It was very strange. The others were trying to figure out where we were and asked the scribe, but it seems like they have lost their memory.   The elf asked if they could try to read the scroll, and I gave them the scroll. They summarized the story for us: it was a story about a writer in which everything they wrote was or would be true. They were treated as a deific figure. Then another deific figure, in fear that this writer would write their demise, killed the writer's daughter. In outrage, he wrote the end of his own world. It seemed to be a lesson on giving people too much power, but also a true tale. The elf thinks that the story is about the scribe.   We then introduced ourselves, seeing as we weren't in any immediate danger. The elf is known as Hornet, the masked man as Fathom, and the starry figure as Hymn. Hornet asks for the scribe's name, but the scribe is unsure. Hornet suggests giving them a name. The scribe asks us after we've finished introducing ourselves if we know where lost memories go. I didn't have an answer for that; that is something I never thought to learn. The scarf seems to shift at their touch, and the mimic, which looks like it is the scarf now, seems to listen to what the scribe tells it to do. Scribe also happens to be their title.   After this, Hornet decided to climb up a tree to see if they could see anything. They did not see much, but they did see something up north. They could tell we were very far west. Hymn notes that Hornet had lost one of their daggers and offers them some of theirs. They toss the knives up to them, and the knives seem to disappear in midair on their way to Hornet. Hornet takes this as a prank. The others suggested we try to make a map, and I offered my paper as a way to draw one up, and Hornet showed that they are able to manifest ink with their hand, allowing them to write on seemingly anything, including air. I've never seen magic like that before, if it is magic! Perhaps the others gained some sort of ability from the strand, as I did.   I felt a weight on my shoulder that I hadn't felt for as long as we were in the ruins. It was Erafinyr. She was the one who took the daggers, and I scolded her. She asks me where I was, and I said I am not entirely sure, but the last I remember is arriving in Zetsubou. She says that was a while ago and seems very confused. She said she'll talk to me about it later and makes herself invisible. She makes herself invisible in crowds of people she doesn't know or trust; it is understandable that she doesn't trust these people, she only just met. I gave the daggers back to Hornet and apologized on her behalf, though they seemed confused as to why I was apologizing.   Today felt like it went on forever. We have set up camp just outside the forest, on our way to see if we can find any civilization. The tree leaves are golden; they remind me of home. I am still unsure why I am here and why everyone else is here, but I know that I will at least travel with this group until I find a lead on where Memory may be. Maybe the scribe will have an answer when they get their memory back. Or maybe one of the others may have seen him on their travels? I am unsure. I can’t help but wonder, what does Erafinyr mean by Zetsubou being a while ago? It feels like I was just there yesterday. I feel very tired, but I finally feel calm enough to rest. Good night, journal.

I heard his voice. For the first time in years, I heard my teacher; I heard Memory's voice. I looked around, trying to find the source of his voice. He called out to me, trying to lead me to where he was. I had to find him, I had to reach him somehow. But I didn't know where his voice was coming from. It seemed to come from the golden thread. I couldn't stop myself from putting the book down and quietly and slowly approaching it. I saw the elf touch the silver thread, and I watched as it entered inside of their skin. But I couldn't stop myself from approaching. The elf started shaking on the ground, their veins glowing silver, and a billowing blackness was coming out of their mouth, eyes, and fingertips. The silver thread exited from their mouth, slowly making its way back to the golden thread. The starry figure tried to hit the thread with a book, but it sliced through it.   The masked figure grabs my arm and the starry figure's arm, bringing us over to the strands. They say to grab the golden thread, and we both grab the thread. The masked figure grabs both threads. As we touch the thread, the room fills with a golden light. I felt warm, calm, like my energy had been rejuvenated. The golden thread then shatters in my hands, the golden light fading away. I looked around and saw the masked figure and the starry figure glowing with a golden aura. The silver thread disintegrates, and the elf wakes up. I felt like something has changed about me. I'm not entirely sure what has changed but since then, I am able to tell how old things are by touching them and get a faint sense of what it has been through. I took the book that was next to the elf and picked it up, and it felt empty. It felt like I was the first one to ever touch this book.   After the golden auras around us began to fade, we helped the elf up to their feet and headed to the other hall, the Scribe of Dragons. We were hoping to maybe find someone who could answer our questions as to why we were there. When we arrived, we were greeted by a large pile of gold, coins, and treasure. Atop this pile was a rectangular box of glass; inside it a body holding a scroll. Something inside of me felt like the scroll was the reason we came here. The starry figure, the masked figure, and I approached the pile of gold. I picked up a coin, and the only sense I could gather from it was that it felt... hungry.   It was then that a tentacle and maw rose from the pile of artifacts as the masked person stepped onto the pile toward the glass box. The maw opened, and it bit at the masked man's leg, and a tentacle came out from the pile and attacked me, grappling me. It slammed me against the wall, and the sheer impact mixed with the tentacle constricting me hurt a lot. It felt like my ribs would crack if it put even a bit more pressure. I struggled to try and get out of its grasp, but to no avail. The others started fighting the creature in the gold, now known to be a mimic. Then everyone disappeared! The monster, the masked and starry figure, the elf, the body in the box—everyone disappeared, but I was still being held by the tentacle. Then they didn't all disappear; rather, everyone turned invisible. The mimic then spoke to me, telling us it will devour us for our insolence and for stealing from the scribe. It was very angry. I struggled more but was still not able to escape. The starry figure and the monster appeared; the starry figure cutting the tentacle that was grappling me. After this, the masked man appeared, trying to convince the monster to stop fighting. The mimic concedes, and the masked man puts what seemed to be a healing ointment on where its tentacle was cut off. It was then that the elf rushed up to the pile of gold, hitting the glass container with a hammer. It lodged in and they pulled the container. A loud boom resonated through the whole room, sounding like a gunshot had been fired right next to me. The box shot across the room, and the body and scroll fell to the floor where it once stood.   It was at this point that I noticed the others couldn't see me. Maybe if I took the scroll, I could see what was inside it and communicate it to the others; maybe it had a way out of here. I took the scroll out of the body's hand, and it started to claw desperately in my direction. I focused on making myself visible after that, holding the scroll close to my chest. The body is now known to us as Scribe. They did not seem dangerous, but our questions seemed to confuse them. They made the mimic disappear into a pile of ash, which then turned into a long billowing scarves. We decided to open the scroll to see what was inside. (cont.)

"Rise, travelers." Those words have been ringing in my head since I woke up in that sea of fog. It was so cold, so dense, so chilling that it made my skin ache and turn numb. As I looked up, I saw a giant wall with a massive door, just barely visible through the fog. Then those words rang out. "Rise, travelers. Seekers of the unknown. Your journey is only beginning… you can't die here. So get up. Find what you came here for. I'll be waiting."   After these words, I started to notice other figures in this fog with me. The fog was too thick for me to determine how they looked then, but I saw them, one by one, start to get up and move toward the door. Following these figures' directions, I slowly got up from the ground and made my way toward the door. Next to the door stood a statue, which piqued my curiosity. I reach out to touch the statue, feeling its cold, worn down exterior. The statue towered over me; it was like twice my height! It seems like the statue didn't only peek my interest. A tall person with a mask covering their face and a large coat touched the statue as well, examining the sword it was holding. They ask me if they could try to take the sword, and I allow them to. He was not able to take the sword from the statue. A second figure approached, saying that this statue may be the key to opening the door. This figure wore a white cloak and appeared to be made up of stars; I'd never seen anyone like them before. They noted the gears on the top of the door, which I had not seen before.   The bitter cold felt like it was eating away at my skin. Whatever is behind this door must be the way out of this place, if not at least somewhere warmer. As the person with the mask pushed on the statue, the gears above the door started to turn. Around this time, a third figure appeared. This figure seemed to be an elf, with short buzzed hair and covered in what seemed to be bandages. They took out a dagger and stuck it into the lock of the door, my guess being in an attempt to pick the lock. The lock closed around the dagger, crushing it with a loud noise. It was after this that the others suggested we all touch the statue to see if that might open the door. The elf put their hand on the statue, and the gears above the door turned more. Then the statue started to move! I had never seen a golem before, the only thought I had at the time was "I should climb it." but I refrained. Getting out of this fog was more important.   The golem moved in front of the door, trying to lift up its sword into the keyhole. The masked figure and the starry figure helped the golem lift the sword, guiding it to the keyhole. As the sword entered the keyhole, the gears above the door began to rotate in the other direction. The lock clamped around the sword, I was worried it would break it. The golem kneeled to the door, and one by one, we all got down on our knees in front of the door on the cold ground. As the last of us kneeled, I felt a great weight on my shoulders, pushing me down onto my knee. The door slowly started to open, and as it did, I felt a wave of warm air blow against my face. When the door was finally open, the weight was off my shoulders, and we all headed inside.   When we stepped inside, we were greeted by a grand hall. It was much warmer in here, almost painfully so in comparison to the fog. The hall was covered in dead overgrowth, and at the end of the hall stood a large statue, holding two ruins in each hand, seemingly to indicate what was along each stairwell. I could not make sense of what the runes said, but the elf said that the left rune said the one on the left said "Vault of Cadence" and the one on the right said "Scribe of Dragons." For some reason, it felt like this place was somewhere I have been looking for, though I am not sure why. I took out my journal to rummage through my notes and found the most recent four pages torn out. My entry on my arrival to Zetsubou was torn out, and that was the last I remember. Who or what could have torn out those pages? I felt uneasy, worried that someone may have tampered with my notes, so I rummaged through all of them to make sure. Luckily, it seems like only those four pages were torn out.   After I finished rummaging through my notebook, I put it back into my bag and looked around for the others. The others seemed torn on which way to check first; they wanted to get out of here just as much as I did. Initially, we wanted to split up, with two of us going to the vault and two going to the scribe, but we decided against that and we all first went to the vault. As we walked up the stairs, I noticed how old the stone felt. It felt like it was hundreds of years old. The hallway leading to the vault seemed to go past the wall of which the door was on. When we finally arrived to the vault, we found the door slightly ajar, and we all one by one peeked inside.   Inside the Vault of Cadence, we found bookshelves filled with books. A soft golden light bathed the room, peppered with silvery sparkles. In the center of the room were two very thin braids, seemingly the source of the light. One golden, one silver. We entered the room, and the masked figure and I looked through the books, but we found them to be completely empty. (cont.)

Today, we made it to Fort Jurnil. We have been going from settlement to settlement for a couple months now. There is still no sign of Memory or pointers to where he may be. When I told Erafinyr we were going to Fort Jurnil next, she was very wary of going. She said it's best if we don't go there, especially with me knowing magic. She said it would be best to go to another city and skip this one. I insisted that we go, though. I saw it as "If I give no sign that I know magic, nothing will happen, right?" I was wrong.   My main goal for going to Fort Jurnil was to try and see if I could find a mercenary who may know something about Memory's whereabouts. Either way, like Erafinyr said, I plan to not stay long in Fort Jurnil. I knew it was a former military base, but the city still gave off the feeling of a place ready to defend itself from any attack. It had a brooding atmosphere and it was a bit thick, though not as thick as it was in Ciiryc. I spent most of the day walking around the city, trying to find mercenaries who stood out. I introduced myself to a couple of them and asked if they knew anything about Memory. Some gave small hints, like saying they had seen them before, but it was before we were separated. One said that it is best not to look in a city like this for help with that, especially for "people like you," sounding more like a warning than a threat. With how things went today, it was most definitely a warning.   Later that day, Erafinyr was getting uneasy, saying she felt like we had been followed the whole time we were in the city. I looked around and saw no signs of people following us, so I just brushed it off. Not that long after, someone shouted in my direction, "Hey, you! The one with the hood and the pixie!" I turned around at the shouting, finding a guy with a group of about five people pointing in my direction. He questioned me, saying I was a spellcaster and saying that spellcasters shouldn't be around here. How did they know I was able to do magic? I did no magic since I entered here. A crowd started to form around us, and the guy and his goons started approaching us, brandishing weapons. I knew I had to get out of there quickly.   Right as I was about to get ready to run away, someone stood in between me and the goons. It was one of the mercenaries from before, the one who said this is not the city to look for the help I needed. "Well, if it isn't Ymir Ardenelle!" the boss of the goons shouted, "Here to defend this spellcaster, I take it? Who knew they had the gold to hire a merc, let alone one of your level." The boss chuckled at her. Ymir looked back at me and told me to meet her outside of the city. As she gave me a nod of encouragement, I ran as fast as I could. I could hear the clanging of metal against metal behind me, grunting and groaning.   I ran until I was out of the city, and I waited at the spot Ymir told me to wait at. It was near sunset when she arrived. I asked her if she was okay and thanked her for saving me. As a thank you, I tended to her wounds and offered her some of my rations. We talked and exchanged proper introductions for a while; I explained how I have been going from settlement to settlement trying to find Memory, how I met Erafinyr along the way, and how I ended up in Fort Jurnil. She acted rather sweet toward me despite her intimidating aura and appearance. Ymir said due to the area and how dangerous it may be, that it would be best if she accompanied me to where I am heading next and then we will part ways. She said she was looking for new places to look for work anyway. I asked if she needed pay, to which she suggested we could take commissions together until we made it to our destination. We decided on heading to Zetsubo, another major city further west. Tomorrow, we start our travels there. Good night, journal.

It has been four days since I last saw Memory. Six if you count the days I was unconscious. I went to the settlement we were heading to before and asked around if anyone had seen him. So far, no one has any sort of lead. I've decided to hang around the settlement for a couple days to see if maybe he will make his way here. For the past few days, my routine has been waking up, asking around the settlement to see if anyone has seen Memory, then hunting and gathering to sell for some extra money before retiring for the day. Today was a lot stranger than the other days.   It was getting late after another day of asking around the settlement. I went back to the small camp I had made, and I was going through my journal of pressed flowers and fauna. I looked up and noticed... a floating pastry? It looked like it was a small roll, though it was hard to tell from a distance. It was heading in my direction, and I noticed it was being followed by a man. The man was shouting at the roll, carrying around a small paddle. He was shouting "That damned pixie!" and "Get back here!" over and over, getting louder as they got closer to me. As the distance closed, the pastry moved around me, hiding behind me. I could hear panting from behind me; whatever was carrying it was completely hidden from my view.   "You must be this pixie's lackey, aren't you?" he asked me, questioning me and accusing me of using the "pixie" to steal food for me. Not wanting to get myself into any trouble, I apologized and offered some money to pay for the pastry and for the trouble the pixie had caused. He grunted at me and took the money from my hand, walking away. After he walked away, the pastry landed itself on a tree stump near me, and the pixie revealed itself. It had dark skin, green hairs and wings, and a small satchel on its waist. The pixie began to eat the pastry, thanking me for helping them out in between bites. They asked me for my name, about my story, and why I helped them. I explained to them that I helped them because I didn't want the shopkeeper to think I would steal.   I began to gather my belongings and leave after a brief conversation, intending to travel to the next settlement. There's no telling what the shopkeeper might tell the other people in the settlement about me; if they find out, they might refuse to help me find Memory. The pixie, now known to me as Erafinyr, followed behind me, insisting that they join me on my journey. She said she saw my journey as something noble, something that had touched her. With a lot of hesitance, I decided to let her join me.   It is now late at night as I'm writing this. It had started to rain, and Erafinyr fell to the ground. She seems to really hate the rain and it makes it very difficult for her to fly. I dried her up and put her under my hood. She is fast asleep on my shoulder now. From our conversations today, I feel a lot less hesitant about her joining me. It was a bad first impression that I had met her with her stealing something, she is not as mischievous as she lets on. She genuinely felt bad for roping me in to her antics, saying she would eventually repay me for the trouble she put me through. She's an interesting little one, very curious, and she sounds genuinely interested in helping me find Memory. It is getting late, we were going to start heading to Ciiryc. Maybe we will find more information there. It's a major city too, so we may be able to get someone to help us out. It is getting late, and our small fire is starting to burn out. Good night, journal.

I just woke up, so I'm writing this while it is still fresh in my mind. I've gotten separated from Memory. Not Memory, Åsmund. I really need to break that habit. I don't know how I got separated; it's all a blur. I have been asleep for two days, and he is nowhere to be seen. I called for him, I looked around the destroyed cart I woke up in, not a sound or a ruffle. There is no way he would leave me behind. My head and side have a sharp pain in them; maybe I was knocked out? Yes, I was knocked out. I remember we were heading north to a settlement to see if there was anyone we could help. I was gathering berries and fruit for the road. The last thing I remember him saying to me was calling out my name. Him yelling "Aina!" is ringing in my head. I wish this was just a nightmare, but I know this is real. It makes me want to cry. The only things I could find that could be hints to where he went were the necklace I made him a couple years back, and dried blood to the south. I don't want to think about what could have happened while I was asleep. Most of my gold is gone, and my dress is torn.   I think the best thing for me to do is to head south, in the direction of the blood trail. Hopefully, I'll be able to find a village or settlement, as well as someone who knows what happened and where Åsmund may be. It is getting dark, I'm lucky I have a torch and some rations left over. I will search as far as I have to to find Åsmund. And I will do whatever I can to be reunited with him. Good night, journal. I have a long journey ahead of me tonight.

Today, I went to go see Memory again and gather some herbs. I gathered a lot of berries today; my basket was difficult to carry, haha. After I gathered my berries and herbs, I went to the usual spot where I met up with Memory, the open clearing with the rocks. He is usually there before I am, but today he wasn't. I decided to sit down on one of the rocks and wait. I am not sure how long I waited, but it was a while. I heard scurrying and branches breaking behind me, so I thought it was him. I turned my head around, and I saw a big brown bear! The bear was sniffing at the air and seemed angry. I slowly got up and backed away from the bear, but it kept getting closer. Then it had the nerve to eat my berries out of my basket! There is not much I can do about that though; there is no way I could fight a bear. I didn't even bring my knife with me today; I didn't expect something like this to happen.   After the bear finished eating the berries, it stared right at me. It slowly stood up on its hind legs, looking angry. I got scared and slowly started walking away from it. That was a bad idea. It moved closer to me, growling and puffing air out of its nose. All I could think about in the moment was to run, so I did. But I immediately tripped on a branch and fell face-first into the dirt. Before I could try and get myself up on my feet, the bear was already looming above me, seemingly more angry, and pinning me down. I could feel its spit dripping from its maw onto my back, and I was so scared I screamed. It roared, and I knew it was about to attack me. All I could do was scrunch up and hope that it wouldn't hit anything vital.   As I laid there, anticipating the hit, I heard something approaching from down the path. Whatever it was, I heard it make impact with the bear, knocking it off of me. I looked up and saw a large wolf. I'd never seen a wolf so big before! It was grappling with the bear, growling at it. Something looked off about it; the wolf's fur was a darker purple, and it looked nothing alike any wolves I had seen before. Wait, it's Memory! It has to be! I slowly stood up, quietly making my way behind a tree to watch the fight unfold. Memory made short work of the bear, and it ran away.   After the fight was over, Memory turned to me, switching back to his fairy form. He checked me for any wounds; the only wound I had was a scraped ankle. He seemed relieved that I wasn't hurt. I thanked him profusely for saving my life, saying there was no telling how things would've ended up had he not come. In my mind, the thought lingered that I should repay him somehow. My first thought was to ask if I could work for him or alongside him as a form of repayment, and I couldn't think of any other way to do that. So, I just said it. He was silent for a moment before saying that he accepted that offer. I don't know why, but a part of me wished he had not accepted.   I am writing this journal entry now on the road with Memory, leaving my village and heading into the wilderness. I have never left the village before. I am scared of what is to come, but I am also excited. My father gave me his dagger for the road, something he was going to give to my younger brother when he grew old enough to go out into the world. I don't know how things will go from here on, but working alongside an icon is something completely new and different. I'm not sure if this is right for me, but it is what I owe him for saving my life. Maybe one day I'll come around to it, maybe he will teach me magic, maybe I will grow to love this life. There is no way of knowing right now. I am very tired after today, I am going to get some rest. Good night, journal.

Today, I went on my normal gathering route. My parents wanted me to find berries and herbs to sell at the nearby village. I saw some berries off the beaten path I usually go on, and so I decided to go after them. They were so tasty! Very red and tasted very sweet. I gathered until my basket was filled with various berries, herbs, and small animals. I took a rest on a rock in an open clearing. I heard a stirring in the woods and had an uneasy feeling, so I hid behind a rock and hid my basket with me, drawing my knife. I peeked around the corner and saw him. Memory himself, in the flesh. His wings and his purple hair looked different than the illustrations I'd seen by passing travelers and in the library. But why was he here of all places, in the middle of the woods?   He brushed some branches and leaves off of his clothes. He seemed to be staring in my general direction, holding something in his hand. He stood silently, almost as if he were thinking about something. I stepped out from behind the rock, my knife re-sheathed. I walked towards him hesitantly, but not because I was scared or thought I could win a fight against an icon, but it was just in case. He had no weapons drawn, and as I stepped closer, I could see what was in his hand better. It was a necklace I had lost a week prior! One made for me by my mother! It was like he could tell it was mine, and he put it down on the rock beside him.   "You're Memory, right? I've read about the icons and heard about the current icons from travelers." He nodded; he seemed distant. We talked for a bit longer, though it was mostly me talking about the village and my research on the icons and him listening. I talked about my interest in learning magic and showed him the little things I had learned, like changing my eye color and flickering a flame. I got up from the stone, getting ready to head back to the village, and I offered for him to join me for dinner. It was getting late. Much of the village would be retiring to their homes, done with their tasks for the day. He was happy to join, and we went back to the village together. I introduced him to my parents; my mother was more starstruck than I was, haha. They offered him a meal, and we all ate together. He excused himself and left for the night, and I escorted him out of the city. I asked him if I would see him again, and he nodded at me. I watched as he went back into the forest.   I am excited for when I get to meet him again, but I am still a bit scared. Being in the presence of a traveler has always scared me, let alone being in the presence of an icon. I hope to get more comfortable with him, and maybe he can get more comfortable with me. I have a feeling he would be a great teacher. No, I'm thinking too far ahead. I will be hesitant and focus on trying to become more comfortable with him before deciding something like that.     Anyway, that's all I have to write about today. Hopefully the me in the future makes the right choice on what to do. For right now, I will just continue as normal, with hesitance. Good night, journal.