Triven's Journal

[Arlyan]

Day 1:

Today will be a day I will never forget. I swear it.

Something inside me snapped.

I didn't realize anything was wrong until I heard my mother scream. By then it was too late to save her.

I looked out the window of my tree house, and saw the war band of Demons charging at my house. The gardens were trampled; our elegant fence was torn apart like paper.

The Demons were terrifying. They looked like men in every way, but their eyes were windows to their lands, filled with fire and torment and anger. Wild. Uncontrolled.

Our house wasn't far from the battlefront, but we had been assured there was no possibility of the Demons breaking through our lines. The last news we heard was the Demons were finally being pushed back to their lands.

The last news was wrong.

I watched as the Demons called fire from the sky, lighting my house ablaze as they laughed; I heard my parents screaming inside. Some of our servants fled, only to be captured by the Demons, and burned alive on the spot.

My house collapsed; I heard my mother scream for the last time, and the heat from the fire came rolling over me, pushed by the force of the collapsing walls.

It was then I felt something inside me break. I jumped from my old tree house, landing in a dead run, heading straight at the surprised Demons war band.

Looking back, all I can remember is a whirlwind of fire and confusion that seemed to last only seconds. The next thing I remember is standing among the bodies of demons and the wreckage of my smoldering house.

Since the start of the Demon invasions, humans have known that Demons cannot burn.

These Demons had. Burned to a crisp. I stood over their charred bodies, dazed. Surely I was dead, I thought to myself. I thought it over and over.

But no, I was alive. And I could feel the tear inside myself. Not a tear of muscle, or a fracture of bone, but of mind and spirit.

Disconcerted and completely in a daze, I moved about the wreckage of my home, gathering what wasn't burned to a crisp. Among the cinders I found this journal. I took it, a pack, some clothes that had escaped the house's fate, and left.

I now sit on a hill distant from my broken house, writing these words for me. I cannot forget what happened to my this day.

I fear what my shattered soul will do to my dreams. I fear what dawn will find me as.

Goodnight.

[Arlyan]

Day 2
I woke this morning drenched in sweat, startled out of a nightmare.

In my dream I had been standing across from myself. I noticed a clear pool of water to the right, visible in my peripheral.

My eyes were locked on my mirror image. His clothes were like mine, torn and scorched. His hair was short and unruly, brown ruffs standing at odd angles, same as mine.

His eyes were mine, brown with a tinge of green.

But they were not entirely mine.

They were the eyes of a Demon. Fire burned behind them. Despite this terrifying attribute, He looked thoughtful, as though unsure how fast to proceed. He opened his mouth to speak, but I woke before He had the chance.

I set off early this morning.

I’ve decided to make for Aradd, a nearby city said to be aiding refugees of the war.

My hope is they don’t suspect what I feel I am becoming.

The tear inside me is deeper now. The fire is close, with a mere thought I can summon it. When I call forth the flames, I can feel the sunder in my soul stretch. The chasm in my mind grows deeper, longer, wider.

Darker.

[Slayer]

(( You're name reminds me off aryan, as in, the perfect race ))

[Arlyan]

((haha i never thought of that. It wasn't my intention))

[theredbaron]

(( Vereh gewd. I put the third option in the vote, but I'm not sure why I said that now... ))

[Arlyan]

((thanks for the reply. If you remember what you were going to say feel free to post again. The more feedback I get the better ))


Day 3
I feel myself at the edge of the precipice in my mind. It takes nearly all my strength to keep myself from tumbling down, into the unknown.

My hope is to make it to the city. Perhaps a mystic or priest can close the chasm in me. Perhaps there is a cure.

Day 4
I made it to the city gate just before dark. Soldiers bristled from the battlements. Soldiers barely glanced at me as they ushered me in and directed me to the nearest place of refuge: a crowded church.

It was dark inside, just a few candles lit the room. I made my way to the wall near a cluster of the flickering flames and sat. Those around me eyed me uncertainly and inched away.

The city of Aradd isn't the haven I was hoping for.

Fear is so thick it makes it difficult to breath.

[Arlyan]

((thanks for taking the time to read this! I'm experimenting with the 1st person, I thought this journal would be a good way to practice. Any comments on the writing style would be super helpful, I'm doing my best to make his thoughts show through the way I'm imagining he would write in his journal, without making it too fragmented and hard to follow.
Thanks again))

[Arlyan]

Day 5
These past few days I thought I hadn’t dreamed. I was mistaken. I had been dreaming of the blackness in my mind, time stretching to eternity. Tonight was the same, until I saw my mirror image, far below me, and I realized I was standing at the edge of the gulf in my soul, looking at what was waiting for me down there.

I fell backwards, starting myself out of my sleep.

It was early morning. A few priests were moving among those who were awake, distributing food.

One moved to me, holding bread out to me. Our fingers brushed as I took the bread, and a shudder went through his body.

He backed away from me quickly, nearly tripping over a sleeping body, and turned to the Elder priest.

I didn’t wait around to see what was said.

I made my way to the market square, but it was depressingly empty. The encounter with the priest had made me paranoid, and I ducked into a back alley, making my way through the near-silent city.

I found myself in what was clearly the slums of the city, but I felt a strange urge to continue. I carried with me nothing of value, and thus had nothing to fear from those who dwelt in this area. The crisp morning air was a sharp contrast to the dirty buildings surrounding me.

One building stood out to me. I opened the door, and found myself looking at a rather suspicious-looking group.

They were sitting in the dining room, using what they could as furniture; more of them were perched on tables and boarded-up windowsills than chairs.

They were all staring at me, no one saying a word. I took the time to examine the room. There were pieces of parchment scattered across the room, some filled with writing, others with carefully drawn maps. Strange runes were carved in various places in the room, and a set of stairs led up to darkness, by a hallway with an ominous door at the back, a large rune carved in the center.

The group seemed to relax a bit, and one man, their leader, I assumed correctly, stood and introduced himself.

“Hello Triven,” he said to me. “My name is Galor. Take a seat, we’re glad you could make it.”

I nodded, and sat on a nearby broken table. I wasn’t surprised he knew my name, I felt as if I knew his name even before he spoke it. In fact, I felt as if I could name each of the other eleven sitting in the room.

I could sense they were all in the same condition as I; with a chasm. Some had better control over it than others; I was surprised to discover, I was in a much better position than some of them. A poor man in the corner felt as if he was hanging by his fingertips.

Try as I might, however, I couldn’t discern where Galor stood with his chasm.

He was still standing, looking over the group, a slight smile on his features. His dark hair contrasted his blue eyes, and he looked as if his thoughts were elsewhere, but he spoke, saying, “It appears as if we are all here, some more than others.” He paused as a nervous chuckle arose from the group, many casting glances back at the man crouched in the corner.

“I’m sure you all have questions. I’m planning on answering them all over the next few hours. I hope you’re comfortable.”

With that brief introduction, he tumbled into a history of the world, such as I had never heard before. Myself, and the others in the room, now belonged to a group that called themselves the Sundered.

To others, we were known as many names, some less flattering than others. Most of the world regards us as a myth. Those who know of our existence either devote themselves to our extermination or use us for covert missions.

The power between us, the Sundered, and our hunters, the Pure, shifts every few years. The Empire uses us both to their end, and keeps our existence a secret. We don’t actively seek the Pure; the average Pure can overpower the average Sundered in a battle of strength.

We survive by avoiding them.

Units of the Sundered are operated in groups of thirteen, a leader, two assistants, ten agents. There are currently thirty units of Sundered operating, ours is to be the thirty-first, the largest amount of Sundered alive since the last War against the Pure.

We had each found our way to Galor, he had been calling for us the past five days. I had been the farthest, most of the thirteen had been living in Aradd.

After telling us these things, and promising to tell us of what our powers were capable of tomorrow, he ushered us upstairs, chose a small bunk, and instantly fell asleep.

Others had a harder time finding rest, I could hear them turning as I wrote the day’s events. I suspect I will find sleep rather quickly, and, rather than with fear, I face it with curiosity.

[Arlyan]

Day 6
I dreamed again. I stood at the edge of the chasm, looking into its depths. The air around me felt charged with energy. The chasm was no longer threatening. I smiled. “I am Sundered,” I whispered into the darkness.

I woke to Galor’s voice, “Everyone up, lets get started.” He was standing in the doorway, looking at everyone expectantly, then turned and walked down the stairs.

I followed, along with the rest of the group. I hadn’t heard anyone speak a word besides Galor. I assumed it was because no one had anything nearly as interesting to say as Galor did. We took our seats, Eagerly awaiting what Galor could tell us about ourselves.

He wasted no time. “Darkness and Fire. We have control over both. Traveling unseen, incinerating our enemies, concealing our actions. Mastery of our elements takes time and practice, and a strong will. Those who have truly mastered one or the other are a sight to behold, those who have mastered both are legends. A working knowledge is all we require of our agents, but those who wish to live long work to develop their powers.”

Galor held out his hand, and flame jumped to life in his palm, burning brightly. He let it burn for a few moments, then a shadow appeared around the fire, smothering it.

“Your turn,” he said simply, and leaned back against a wall, looking to us.

I held out my hand, focusing. I felt a strange energy stirring within me. I smiled. It was the energy from the chasm from my dream. I focused the energy, willing fire to appear. The energy inside me flowed to my palm, and a small flame flickered to life. I grinned, looking at the fire in my palm, feeding it with the energy.

Looking up, I saw Galor nod in congratulations to me, then looked at the others. I did the same. Some were looking at me in jealousy, others in amazement. The rest were still concentrating on their hands, trying to call fire to life.

Two others managed to call fire on their own. Eventually, Galor walked around the group, whispering into the ears of the Sundered. After his words, fires sprang to life in their palms.

I took advantage of the time, manipulating the fire in my hands, passing it from hand to hand, feeding it more energy to have it grow, shrinking it to just a spark, burning it hotter and colder.

Galor allowed us some time to get a feel for our Fire, then instructed us to put it out, not by cutting off the energy, but by calling Darkness to smother it.

I concentrated again. Holding the fire in my right hand, I let energy flow to my left, attempting to call shadow. Darkness surrounded my hand, and I brought it over the fire, feeling the fire die as the shadow surrounded it.

Pleased, I sat back, feeling the energy pulsing through me. It was an endless font, it seemed. I looked around, watching others bring shadow to life; it was much easier to call the energy the second time.

Once everyone had extinguished their fire, Galor had us experiment with Darkness. I called Darkness into being, surrounding myself with it, and manipulated the shadows around the room.

Galor, looking pleased with our progress, spoke again. “Fire is our weapon. Darkness is our tool. Both are essential to our survival.”

Galor hesitated, as though reluctant to speak of this next topic. “Our magic is similar to that of the Demons which plague our lands. For this reason, among others, we use our Elements discreetly, as the more impressionable would like to see any with a hint of Demon slaughtered.
“For some reason, our powers are linked to Demons somewhat. Some of you may have already guessed, but each of you has a counterpart, a Demon sharing the chasm that gives you the energy to fuel your powers. With this Demon alive, you will never have full control over your powers, or yourself. Our Elements can do far more than what I have demonstrated, but to show you now would be fruitless. While your counterpart lives, you cannot progress.
“Thus, I give you your first task as one of the Sundered. You must find your counterpart, and destroy it. You will then have full control over your powers, and will be one of the Ascended Sundered.

Galor paused for a moment, eyeing the room, then turned, walking down the hallway. He reached the door with the large rune carved in it, and beckoned for us to follow him.

Inside the room were thirteen packs. Galor walked to one, opened it, and began rummaging through the contents.

“Cloak, shirt, trousers, boots, canteen, rations, sleeping rolls. Good,” Galor said, quickly changing and stuffing his old clothes into a corner.

We each did the same, and followed Galor out of the building. It was dark by now, dusk settling in over the town like a thick blanket.

We made our way to the gate, looking very suspicious; Thirteen men clad in dark cloaks, carrying packs, our hoods up. I began to wonder what the guards would say.

It turned out that I didn’t need to worry, we passed by the guards as though we didn’t exist, none of the guards even bothered to glance in our direction. I assume it was Galor, using Darkness in a way we couldn’t even begin to fathom. At least, until our counterpart was dead.

We set up camp when the night was well on its way. No one bothered to talk, we slipped into our bedrolls and ended the long day.

[Arlyan]

Day 7
I dreamed again. My counterpart was standing in front of me, the crystal clear pool near us. His face was twisted in evil glee. “I’m ready for you,” he said.

I woke, drenched in sweat, despite the cool night. We packed up, and began our trek again. We were heading to the Demon lands. Galor said our counterparts would all be together, and told us to practice our Elements while we traveled.

I alternated between making Fire as hot and large as I could before losing control of it, and extinguishing it with Darkness and enlarging the shadows as far as I could before they began to thin. I learned that while I could see through the Darkness I created, none of the Sundered could see through each other’s Darkness. At least, before we destroyed our counterparts, we wouldn’t be able to alter our Darkness for our traveling companions. We spread out to allow each other room to practice after several of us had tripped over rocks and roots.

The land began to look bleaker and darker, even though the sun had just reached its zenith. My dream was worrying me, and I practiced with fervor. My counterpart Demon seemed ready for me indeed, he had a lifetime to practice and prepare, I’d had less than a day.

We stopped just before the Demon Lands and set up camp for the night. The border was clear, no life could be seen beyond the line, the very sky seemed darker and redder than that just behind us.

Galor spoke just as we were settling down. “Be ready lads. Tomorrow is the day.”

[Arlyan]

Day 8
My hands shake as I write this. Several of my companions died today. The battle was short and wild, full of fury.

We woke that morning to howls in the distance. Galor instructed us to prepare ourselves quickly. We faced the eerie noise. The cadence was unlike any I had ever heard. It seemed to have an intelligence to it, a strange barbaric battle cry.

They appeared on the horizon, moving far more quickly than I thought possible. While we would have been lucky to have reached the horizon by nightfall, they were eating miles underneath them. We stood, waiting for the Demons, with Galor at the front.

The wait must have taken at least an hour, but I felt it took only a few moments; I was locked in a battle of willpower with my Demon. I could feel his mind pressing against mine, attempting to force me into the chasm inside me. The force of his mental assault took me off guard; I could see others in the group drop, one, and then another, and the Demons, still distant, howled in triumph.

I regained control over my mind, and forced back against my Demon, I felt him stumble and waver, then he threw a wall between our minds, blocking me from probing any further. I focused on the outside world again, and saw the Demons, only several hundred feet from us.

The sight was uncanny. The demons were exact replicas of the members of our Unit. It was clear they would be focused on only their match, indeed, I had eyes only for my replica. Now that he was closer, I could feel the power, my power, that he held. With it, I instinctively felt that my power would be whole, like a bird who had lived with one wing all its life finally receiving its pair. I had to have that power, and destroying my Demon was the only way.

He looked at me, a cold smile touching his lips, and I could see he felt the same way; he needed me dead for his power to be complete.

We met, Fire and Shadow in our fists. The battle was a blur, out of the corner of my eye I saw others fighting their Demons. We were both out of breath, our minds strained to their limits in our manipulation of the elements of Fire and Shadow, each attacking the other with Fire, and the other either bending the Fire to their will or extinguishing it with Shadow.

I began to worry it would be more of an endurance test than a prowess test; I had been worn down by my second long journey in just over a week, and was still profoundly unfamiliar to the elements that would either save me or kill me.

I decided that our current dual would end in a stalemate, and diverted a small amount of energy to my mind, probing for his. He instantly sensed the dip in my energy focused in my elements, and forced forward with his fire.

I threw up as much darkness between he and I as I could muster, while forcing forward with my mind, intent on smashing through his barrier and shattering his willpower. I didn’t meet any resistance of a wall like I expected; I slammed straight into his mind, tearing it apart.

My shadows slowly dispersed; I saw my Demon lying on the ground in front of me, dead, his eyes empty. I felt a sudden flood of energy, and fell to my knees in shock. My entire body felt electrified, my shallow grasp of my elements became a complete understanding. Instead of calling for them, they leapt at my merest thought. So much was the sudden rush of power, that the world around me went black, and I fell to the ground.

The first sight my eyes registered upon waking was the blood-red sky of the Demon lands. Before, the sky filled me with trepidation and anxiety.

Now, I feel immune to its feeble intimidation. I sat up, feeling my power coursing through my body.