02-16-2026, 11:43 AM
A page of a curious book has started to float around, though obviously a reprint or reproduction from a much more valuable tome.
It is blessed by Chireus, from his alleged Chosen, as a figment of the Book of Travels drifts into public conscience,
as a now-forgotten soul rests easy.
x
x
x
x
x
x
It's 2177AC, Jegnal. Today's the last day. Last day I'll be alive- I ended up living a lot longer than I thought I would.
... I'll burn out one last cigarette. Don't think I've smoked in well over fifty years. Something about the taste of smoke seems comforting, now.
Left Meranthe for a while, wanted to see what else was out there. Not a whole lot, to be honest, that really spoke to me. My story's in Meranthe, much as I learned to hate the place... but, what can ya' do? When everyone sucks, when you're led to everything, you get angry. Irritable. You want to grab people by the throat and thrash 'em until they stop fucking bothering you.
I was angry for a decidedly different reason, though, than most.
I was lost.
Lost for a variety of reasons, really; I was robbed of my home, I watched as everyone stopped makin' sense, I ended up fighting way more than I ever thought I would need to. I tried to love after you, but nothing ever felt right. I tried to have other kids after Circe, but I'm fairly sure most of them died younger than you. It isn't like I cared much for lineage. All that mattered to me was what I promised before.
I lived to experience life. I wanted to live for me. And damn it, if I didn't do that, despite all the heartbreaks, all the anger, all the hollow, metallic tastes of it all.
... hah. You should've been there, Jegnal.
I ended up beating the dog piss out of an Imperfect. Mettadora, or Metta, I think it was Metta- beat her in a straight fist-fight. That was a fun one, y'know. Who else can say that?
Beat the shit out of one of them Atrellyan Ascended, too. Lykon was a hard fight. Fighting that fucker made me feel like my soul was about to be ripped apart.
Should've seen his face. How those eyes changed from domineering reds to so-scared blues.
That phoenix, too- when Bart and I, and everyone else, nearly died to that thing. The time that I helped kill a dragon, too. Cleansing Grimjhall, only for him to go all insane...
Gods above, you'd have been a better help than ever when I was forced to lead the Martyr's Vigil. The Order was rough, but it worked out, I think.
... you should've been there.
I always found myself saying that to myself, sub-consciously. That you should've been there. That you should've been here, with me. Was it by fate that you were meant to die so young, leaving me be in the world? Or was it because I forgot, by a year or two, to give you every nestled blessing I had within me? Was I just a selfish bitch, after all? (Don't answer that. I know I've been a bitch, for a while, mostly after you were gone.)
I always felt guilty for your death. I know it probably had absolutely nothing to do with you, but fuck, how else am I meant to feel when the one man I truly loved died like that?
There was a part of me, I think, that was always scared of dying. I know you did everything in your power to reassure me. Death wasn't going to be all that bad. It'll just be a 'see you later', you know?
... I think I was more scared of what you'd say when you saw me again. All the mistakes I made. All the people I hurt. All the things I did that I thought you'd hate me over, even when I lost my mind for a while and went off the deep end. Dying didn't scare me one bit, it was facing you again that did.
Shit, I was hoping with all the fights I picked that I would've died doing something insane, a story that you'd have loved to hear. Surprised that a demon didn't kill me or something or another. Not that that matters, particularly.
Not a lot of us get to die like this. I'd know- I think I just got lucky.
... I wonder what you'll say. Will you comment about my glittery eyes, how one looks almost exactly like yours in all of that dire scarlet? What about all of my burn scars, all that latticework of death-fire across that pretty face you loved? How my wings haven't changed even a bit, since last you remember? How there's more arcanium in my head than there is bone? How it's taken me so long just to get here, to be by your side again? How so many of people that have my blood, my eyes, my face, my wings, have passed you by, but none of them were me?
I found myself wondering what I'll say, too. But it doesn't really matter. I've always been terrible with words.
The world's gonna keep spinnin' without me. Garret, the stubborn dick, is probably still around somehow- doubt he even thinks about me, anymore. The Vigil is still up, so I guess he must've got off his giant ass to do something about it. I'm sure most of the people I loved forgot about me, or died somehow, or... something.
That's fine. I didn't plan on being anything too special. I didn't want to pursue a legendary existence, or follow in anyone's footsteps.
The woman dying tonight is just a glimmer in the night sky. A passing moment. An old, stubborn bitch who never really cared about anything else than the moment.
... cig's almost burned out, by now. It's hard to write like this, with all these hand tremors, but at least I'm not crying. Think I lost the ability to cry at some point, with all the scars. Or maybe I'm still fucked in the head. Who knows.
One last sketch of you for the road...
... okay.
Your beloved blue-berry wife is on her way over. I went 'round the entire world, and the only place I ever wanted to be is in your arms.
Your grave will have to do.
See you soon.
It is blessed by Chireus, from his alleged Chosen, as a figment of the Book of Travels drifts into public conscience,
as a now-forgotten soul rests easy.
x
x
x
x
x
x
It's 2177AC, Jegnal. Today's the last day. Last day I'll be alive- I ended up living a lot longer than I thought I would.
... I'll burn out one last cigarette. Don't think I've smoked in well over fifty years. Something about the taste of smoke seems comforting, now.
Left Meranthe for a while, wanted to see what else was out there. Not a whole lot, to be honest, that really spoke to me. My story's in Meranthe, much as I learned to hate the place... but, what can ya' do? When everyone sucks, when you're led to everything, you get angry. Irritable. You want to grab people by the throat and thrash 'em until they stop fucking bothering you.
I was angry for a decidedly different reason, though, than most.
I was lost.
Lost for a variety of reasons, really; I was robbed of my home, I watched as everyone stopped makin' sense, I ended up fighting way more than I ever thought I would need to. I tried to love after you, but nothing ever felt right. I tried to have other kids after Circe, but I'm fairly sure most of them died younger than you. It isn't like I cared much for lineage. All that mattered to me was what I promised before.
I lived to experience life. I wanted to live for me. And damn it, if I didn't do that, despite all the heartbreaks, all the anger, all the hollow, metallic tastes of it all.
... hah. You should've been there, Jegnal.
I ended up beating the dog piss out of an Imperfect. Mettadora, or Metta, I think it was Metta- beat her in a straight fist-fight. That was a fun one, y'know. Who else can say that?
Beat the shit out of one of them Atrellyan Ascended, too. Lykon was a hard fight. Fighting that fucker made me feel like my soul was about to be ripped apart.
Should've seen his face. How those eyes changed from domineering reds to so-scared blues.
That phoenix, too- when Bart and I, and everyone else, nearly died to that thing. The time that I helped kill a dragon, too. Cleansing Grimjhall, only for him to go all insane...
Gods above, you'd have been a better help than ever when I was forced to lead the Martyr's Vigil. The Order was rough, but it worked out, I think.
... you should've been there.
I always found myself saying that to myself, sub-consciously. That you should've been there. That you should've been here, with me. Was it by fate that you were meant to die so young, leaving me be in the world? Or was it because I forgot, by a year or two, to give you every nestled blessing I had within me? Was I just a selfish bitch, after all? (Don't answer that. I know I've been a bitch, for a while, mostly after you were gone.)
I always felt guilty for your death. I know it probably had absolutely nothing to do with you, but fuck, how else am I meant to feel when the one man I truly loved died like that?
There was a part of me, I think, that was always scared of dying. I know you did everything in your power to reassure me. Death wasn't going to be all that bad. It'll just be a 'see you later', you know?
... I think I was more scared of what you'd say when you saw me again. All the mistakes I made. All the people I hurt. All the things I did that I thought you'd hate me over, even when I lost my mind for a while and went off the deep end. Dying didn't scare me one bit, it was facing you again that did.
Shit, I was hoping with all the fights I picked that I would've died doing something insane, a story that you'd have loved to hear. Surprised that a demon didn't kill me or something or another. Not that that matters, particularly.
Not a lot of us get to die like this. I'd know- I think I just got lucky.
... I wonder what you'll say. Will you comment about my glittery eyes, how one looks almost exactly like yours in all of that dire scarlet? What about all of my burn scars, all that latticework of death-fire across that pretty face you loved? How my wings haven't changed even a bit, since last you remember? How there's more arcanium in my head than there is bone? How it's taken me so long just to get here, to be by your side again? How so many of people that have my blood, my eyes, my face, my wings, have passed you by, but none of them were me?
I found myself wondering what I'll say, too. But it doesn't really matter. I've always been terrible with words.
The world's gonna keep spinnin' without me. Garret, the stubborn dick, is probably still around somehow- doubt he even thinks about me, anymore. The Vigil is still up, so I guess he must've got off his giant ass to do something about it. I'm sure most of the people I loved forgot about me, or died somehow, or... something.
That's fine. I didn't plan on being anything too special. I didn't want to pursue a legendary existence, or follow in anyone's footsteps.
The woman dying tonight is just a glimmer in the night sky. A passing moment. An old, stubborn bitch who never really cared about anything else than the moment.
... cig's almost burned out, by now. It's hard to write like this, with all these hand tremors, but at least I'm not crying. Think I lost the ability to cry at some point, with all the scars. Or maybe I'm still fucked in the head. Who knows.
One last sketch of you for the road...
... okay.
Your beloved blue-berry wife is on her way over. I went 'round the entire world, and the only place I ever wanted to be is in your arms.
Your grave will have to do.
See you soon.