A Discarded Journal

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A Discarded Journal

Postby Kazmort » Sat Jan 09, 2016 11:41 pm

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Journal Entry One:

I remember the sun and little else from my previous life.

Who am I?

What am I?

I have traveled this stony coast for several celestial cycles. Days have been warm and nights have been cold. Perhaps tonight I'll consider a fire.

The ocean here is not familiar and the trees bear no fruit. For food I have subsisted on grass and what few insects I can find. Nothing satisfies my hunger or thirst. All tastes like ash upon my tongue.

In this place there are none like me. I hear no voices and see no smiles. The wind does not blow in spite of the nearby sea's constant churning. There is no tide.

Without my memory I cannot be sure, but nothing here feels correct in my gut. This is not my home. The air is unpleasant to breath and my body feels heavy as I continue my constant march in search of... something. Anything.

What is this life? I live and I breath but I know in my heart that I should be dead. My mind reels at the unknown reality that surrounds me.

Dreams. I have many dreams. I dream of a madman with red eyes. The world shatters. The world always shatters when the dreams end. Black tentacles scrape at my sanity but can't seem to gain purchase. Perhaps tonight I will dream back my memories.

Perhaps tonight I will lose my sanity.
Kazmort
 

Re: A Discarded Journal

Postby Kazmort » Sun Jan 10, 2016 12:21 am

Journal Entry Two:

This morning I was eager to wake from my nightmares. My feet led me further down the coast before any hint of the sun met the horizon.

It has been difficult to carry on with such little sustenance but little can be done otherwise. If I don't continue to search for fertile land I will surely perish.

The dreams from last night brought back some memories. Are they my memories? I know not. The nights leave me feverish and confused and this night was no different.

I remember the constant hammering of explosions on the land. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people were fleeing out of a mountain and down into a forested bluff. I was being chased for leagues and no matter where I turned, safety did not exist. Burning red eyes and arrogant claims echoed in my ears. Cold bony hands grabbed for my ankles and hell beasts darkened the sky.

They are only dreams, I tell myself.

Only dreams.
Kazmort
 

Re: A Discarded Journal

Postby Kazmort » Sun Jan 10, 2016 7:22 pm

Journal Entry Three:

The past several weeks have been chaos and sorrow.

I have just now located my belongings and wish to record my thoughts before my memories once again slip away.

There is no reason in my life anymore. Not long after my last entry I woke up naked and in excruciating pain. I was injured and in a cave. My possessions were missing, including this journal. Though I struggled to fine still water, I had no success. There was no reflection I could use to assess my injuries. I did my best. It appeared at the time that my injuries were internal but days later the painful areas were marked with violent scars.

I wandered the land and built up my strength the best that I could. The landscape was in constant flux and the coast I had been following was long gone from my view. Volcanic wastes, verdant forests, dynamic canyons... all whipped by as if I was walking through a picture book.

My sanity is still intact. It is likely because the dreams ended while I wandered lost. Unfortunately that is no longer the case. I am awake from my last slumber and sitting on that same stony shore that I followed when I first arrived in this strange place. Everything is as I left it.

Was it all a dream? Surely not. The scars remain. My last meal is still caught in my teeth. My heels are still hardened and black from walking the volcanic wastes. This last night I dreamed again and when I woke I was here. Here where I started. Or did I start here? Memories returned last night.

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Was this place that I envisioned home? Names came back to me. An Bhalla. Hammersong. Antares. Faces covered in thick hair. Calloused hands and stern brows. All the same yet in so many ways different. With everyone was a sense of war wariness.

I remember walking these paths with my lord. My lord... was I his servant? Or was I the lord with my servant?

Those pathways come to me in my dreams but I know that they cannot exist. Not anymore.

There is so much that I need to put into words but the night comes quickly more often than not and I must make many preparations.

Soon I will record more. Maybe tonight will bring revelation on my sorrows.
Kazmort
 

Re: A Discarded Journal

Postby Kazmort » Sun Jan 10, 2016 9:42 pm

Journal Entry Four:

The events of this world are bland and of little consequence. I have holed up inside a small cavern and now waste little time with material things. My body is surely wasting away but I am not convince that I should be concerned.

With each passing cycle of the celestial bodies above me my mind grows sharper. The dreams are more vivid than they were before. Is madness taking hold? Madness is relative. Being that I am obviously the only person here, that makes me the king of this land. If others were here, by my side, perhaps I would be considered mad. Alone I am enlightened as the prophets of old.

Yes, of course, the dreams. How could I forget. I dream more often and more vividly than before. I feel the cosmos wrap around me and the very fabric of existence bends to my will. The dreams that I can influence are pleasurable and provide me with the needed entertainment to prevent my fleeting sanity from being lost in the void. The dreams that I cannot influence bring me closer to my past and constantly hint at who or what I am.

The islands from my dreams are towering volcanic places with violent shores. Despite this, they live here. We live here. On the islands. The rains fall incessantly in my last dream. Multi-colored flags snap in the wind like leather whips and my companions check their weapons and travelling equipment. The small ships we sail on are held together with tar and nails but their planks creak and leak regardless of how many times we've repaired their hulls.

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We set sail for.. for.. a forested land. Yes. Massive trees and strange people inhabit the lands we seek. There are vast riches promised if we succeed in our mission. Riches, fame, glory. Riptide always claims our reward. One way or another.

I lose track of the places I've been. I sometimes feel like I have lost track of everything.
Kazmort
 


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