Kerelas Journal Entries

It’s terribly late as I write this by the dull flame of a single candle. The room they have me in is larger than what I’m used to, and the darkness feels as though it is swallowing me whole.

I have never been alone before. I have felt alone, but I have never lived without company. It is truly suffocating, maddening, even, as I can hear the faintest sounds. In fact, I am convinced that a family of mice lives below my floorboards. I can hear their feet scurrying across my desk in the dead of night. Often, I wake up with papers on the floor.

So maybe I’m not as alone as I think I am.

It has been three days since I arrived here. Namarast, is what they call it. I've heard the name before, but never truly knew what to expect. I was certainly not expecting a city within the walls of a tangled tree, but it is surprisingly roomy. I do not care for the swamplands that surround it, though.

It seems as though I find myself rambling, for I do not want to address my worries. But I suppose this is a new journal and I might as well start it right. No one likes to read a fluff piece.

The last I saw of her was in a moment of much commotion and panic. I woke to a group of men crashing through our door, ripping it off of the hinges and leaving it in splinters on the ground as they welcomed themselves into our home. If they had knocked, I may not have heard it, but they did not seem like men who cared to knock.

They claimed to be searching for a mage who had committed... terrible acts. Blood had been spilt and crimes had to be paid for. How they discovered her... we had been so careful. And even if her secret got out, she would never... I can't even write it. But when I looked to her in my sleep-fogged state, I knew from the look in her eye that their claims were true. My heart broke, then. Not only was my wife sick and dying, but she was a murderer. 

I could not let her face it, though, and I proclaimed myself as the mage they were seeking. They were all too eager to take me, for they seemed weary from their searching. Perhaps that was their saving grace. I watched as she took our child and escaped out the back door. I only hope she managed to get enough distance between us before my captors realized I had been lying.

The trip here took weeks, and I will not bore my poor journal with the details, for I wish to forget it. But I fear I may have finally contracted the plague that wiped out my town. The people here are not worried, but I am. They did not see the destruction it caused. How many lives were lost in such a short amount of time. I am keeping myself confined to my room as much as I can, but they are awfully persistent about their trials. 

They claim they sense magic on me, but I can only laugh. At least I am not the only mad man in these halls.

It has been a week since I cracked open this book, but it certainly has not been for a lack of trying. I have felt so terribly sick, but I fear it is not the plague, but heartbreak. 

You see, journal, my brth brother wrote me a letter. He never writes to me. In fact, I was sure he forgot that I even existed. I regret our lack of a relationship these days, but there is nothing I can do about it now. I doubt he would move to Ivras. Perhaps the distance between us is a good thing.

And here I find myself rambling again.

She 
They found her dead by a river, the one we used to catch fireflies by in the middle of the night when we were young. As for our daughter, they are not sure. They assume she drowned. 

My head hurts too much to think. I cannot breathe. I will revisit after some rest if I manage any. Do not mistake my lack of words for lack of care.

I am truly shattered.

Corruption.

This is not a wrord word I thought I would use for myself. It seems as though I am a mage, though, and have been... perhaps my whole life. They are not sure what my magic entails, but I do not find myself caring. I haven't slept in a week and I look as though I am on death's door. This is corruption, apparently. This is what I will have to live with for the rest of my life. 

I  find myself wishing it had been the plague. I feel selfish even letting those words leave my pen.

At least this has prvd provided me a distraction from the loss of my family. We are stumped on how, when I did not know I had magic to begin with, it corrupted so violently. My sleepless nights have led me to the librra library, where I have read more books in these moments than I have in my entire life. 

Magic is fascinating.

But I also understand why my family feared it.

I hope mine, whatever it is, is not one to be feared. 

I have also finally admitted to my eyesight failing me. Another symptom of the corruption, apparently. They gave me some old wire glasses for now, but it changes so much... a mage is working on a pair for me that will be imbed imbued with magic that can somehow... adjust to the changes. I am apprehensive, but eager to be able to see straight again, if it works.

I apologize for the typos even on this page, journal, it has not been esy easy.

I am pleased to announce that I can see again. The glasses the mage made for me - whose name I still need to find out - are a work of art. I read an entire book the first night I had them, and now the sun is barely peeking in through my window as I write this.

My magic has been discovered. They call it Somnokinesis. It seems as though the gods have a sense of humor, for I am a man who never sleeps. Though, they blame that on the corruption. It seems as though my magic is working against me, but I am doing what I can to reign it in. This is all very new to me. I feel reborn. And just about as useless as a newborn, if I am being honest.

I miss them. My wife and our daughter. The nights I can sleep, I am plagued with nightmares. I do not know how she died, but my mind is incredibly creative. I wish it wasn't. I can't manipulate these dreams like I could when I was younger, though, so I must either endure or not sleep at all. I aim for the latter.

Training starts tomorrow, and then perhaps I can get a grasp on... this. The corruption cannot be controlled, but I can only hope we can manage the symptoms. 

As far as the corruption goes, I think I know how it came to be. I will write about it when I know for sure. I'm meeting with someone who has spent their life studying it tomorrow. Perhaps we can get some answers, though I fear I won't like them.

It has been many days, journal. I have sat down to write many times, but the words don't come.

I have endured a lot over my time here in Namarast, and for once, I find myself at a loss for words. And when I struggle with my words, I have found it is best to just state it plainly. So that is what I am going to do.

The pact I prayed over for Fortune to heal my wife seems to have worked on myself instead. In exchange for agelessness, my magic was corrupted for my selfishness. I did not mean for this to happen. I only wanted her to live. And yet, I am stuck with my family dead and myself doomed to live nearly forever to dwell on the consequences. 

The Order has offered me to stay, to continue to get a good grasp on my magic, and I am going to take it. I suppose it would be best for me to understand how to use it before I make any other decisions. I am not entirely sure what I am going to do moving forward, but I suppose I have all the time in the world now. 

I do not feel like myself. I feel as though I am in the background, helplessly watching my life crumble before my eyes. Writing here, journal, gives me some semblance of validation. I hope one day, I can look back on these entries when I am at a better place and admire my struggles and how they have strengthened me. 

But for now, I am simply trying to survive them.