Zepha 4th, 4004​

Hishoa. This is my name. Hishoa. Hishoa. This is my name..   This is my name.

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 Zepha 6th, 4004 

His name is Kraderic and he is my mentor. I call him Krad. He told me this is a journal. I am learn the alphabet but I am not very good. I believe this is good practice. The quill hurts to grip after a lot of time. Will I become better as he teach me?

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Zepha 6th, 4004 

It is strang.. strang. I spell that wrong, I think. I will ask Krad later. It is strang, birds are taken to me. Krad is surprised. I can pet, carry and even feed them with my finger and thumb. I am very humbled. Maybe it is my wings they like? But Krad has wings too..  

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I write twice in one day, I hope this is not strang. We are resting now, need to put out the camp fire.

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Ariel 5th, 4004

It has been nearly a week since I last write in my journal. Krad is upset that I tore out some earlier journal writing. I had been upset because this writing is very difficult and I am confused some times so I threw away my mistake pages from weeks ago. He tells me it is very important to accept my mistakes and not run away from them. I am sorry and I will try to do this now. But it is difficult.

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Rielel, Ariel 10th, 4004

      Krad and I met a trader while travelling yesterday. My mentor traded seven feathers from his wing for a new set of clothing for me to wear. I still have no shoes but wrapping my feet in large leaves with fur twine is not very bad. I am very grateful. In the mean time, Krad has taught me many things about my writing. Sentences, paragraphs, indentations..  I am getting much better at ink management as well. I have also learned the names for the days of our week. This Argis calendar he is teaching me is very interesting. Also, he is very proud of me. I am happy.

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Rielel, Sandali 15th, 4004

      I have not written in a while. A lot has happened to me. Krad cannot use his wings to fly so we pushed through forests to reach Merenth to meet a strange trader. Three nights ago I was attacked and bit many times by a group of feral dingos (that is what Krad called them but they looked like dogs?) I am not normal? Or is every one else not normal? Krad fought them off and I was carried the rest of the way to Merenth. My leggings and sleeves were stained with blood and the inn keeper insisted they help my injuries. But I was not bleeding then? I don't remember that night too great as they were arguing with Krad and I was very sleepy as I was carried.

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      I woke this morning and feel great and went out the room to see where Krad was. I do not think they heard me but I listened to their words from above on the stairs, but it made me uneasy so I am writing this now. I do not know what I am. Why is Hishoa my name? 

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      Am I not normal? I am scared..

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Mal, Sandali 17th, 4004

     I am very confused. Krad and I have left the inn and are now on a boat to Kuthar. The merchant was not in Merenth, maybe he moved elsewhere?

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      Earlier my mentor spoke with me about many things. I am a celestial, but unlike him Krad does not think I came from the "Heavens". He is a virtuous-type angel, but he does not know what I am. I heal and have higher regeneration than "normal" celestials, he tells me. This is very strange and new to me.. 

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      Any way, the boat is almost to Kuthar. I will write in you later. I still have many questions..

 

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Jopha, Sandali 20th, 4004

      I am a celestial. Krad is a celestial. We are to be hunted and killed for game. I understand why the trader many months ago was surprised to see my mentor trade feathers for a few pairs of clothing when he could have gotten far more for the price.

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      Krad killed them all with the sword. Those hunters would not listen at all to Krad as he pleaded for safe passage through Kuthar. After we meet this merchant we're looking for, I will ask Kraderic to train me. I want to be able to protect him, with my life if need be. I will be his guardian as he has been mine.

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      I have to go now and change into new attire. So much blood everywhere. We're leaving Kuthar and meeting with the merchant outside the city. I will write later.

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Sacha, Sandali 23rd, 4004

      Krad must've realized my thoughts about asking him to teach me in blade skill. The merchant revealed himself to me as a member of the late Tyir order, whom I learned served with Krad back during the first millennia of the Argis calendar and gifted me with Moirai, a blade weapon. It's not an accurate translation I'm told, but the loose meaning of the name wrings out as "a toothless one". Fascinating! I can't wait to begin my apprenticeship. I wonder when I'll be able to train -- Krad has been especially on edge, mayhap a tad paranoid? 

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      I'll write soon. We're packing up now. I need to say farewell to the kind merchant. I am very grateful for the gift.

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Shielat, Halik 14th, 4197​

Dear journal,

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      It has been too long since I've written to you and I fear you may have forgotten me. Has it really been two centuries? To think I'd find you again after so long. Kraderic would surely be upset with me..  I miss him dearly, that man. I have a few hours to write this and Sophae isn't around to ridicule me so this will be a lengthy entry, I apologize. Let me reread the previous entries from back then to reorient myself, perhaps get a better sense of the timeline.

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      So my last entry was shortly after I received Moirai..  I am not surprised. I spent a week with Kraderic training with Moirai, although the times were sporadic and didn't make for good sessions. Like I said in the entry, he was very distant and on edge. It was then when I first came in contact with what he called "hellions".

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      These creatures..  these devils, they're vicious and unrelenting. They do not rest nor get tired. They are beyond explanation. They killed Kraderic. Ripped through his stomach right in front of me. He killed as many as a half dozen with his steel blade and that seemed an adequate deterrent for the rest, as they had fled. The wound was too severe unfortunately and he passed quickly. Through gargled voice and purging of blood, he forced his personal journal into my clasping hands, leaving me with two words before passing, "Prepare, Hishoa." I remember it so vividly, the falling of blood from his mouth and nose contrasting so beautifully with the sincerity in those measured yellow eyes of his. It was the hardest thing I had done up to then, but I had to leave his lifeless body there as I could already feel the eyes of hellions focus on me.

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      I fled. I ran as fast as my calloused feet would carry me. The canopy of trees restricted flight so I could not take to the skies. You should know that there is no greater fear than hearing the crunching of leaves and twigs snapping behind you, knowing in your heart and soul that razor teeth will be the last thing you'll ever see and feel. I distinctly remember that fear, though it didn't come to pass..  as before I knew it, I had transformed into something else -- four legged and with a fur pelt. I couldn't explain it, though at the moment I had no time to.

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      The transformation allowed me easy escape, and strangely masked my presence to hellions. I involuntarily reverted back to my winged state and out of paranoia made camp in the trees. The adrenaline compensated for the pain, but I soon realized one of them had snagged a piece of me from behind earlier -- I was bleeding and my native regeneration felt sluggish. I slept for a few hours at most, then began to walk. To where, I don't remember.​

     

      Hellions found me, intent to finish what they started. I was wounded and too tired to sprint. I also had only week's worth of training with Moirai, hardly enough to be competent. I suppose that's when I met Sophae.

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      Speaking of which.. I have to go. Sophae has returned and I need to pretend I'm doing something other than writing in this journal. I'll fill you in later.

 

 

Pyrach, Halik 17th, 4197​

Dear journal,

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      I've scrounged up some time to write, finally. I left off on Sophae. When I met her in that desolate forest, she was the then-commander of Exelite, a hunting force comprised of celestials apt at repelling nefarious entities. She is as beautiful now as she was then, a protective layer of sunlight tresses reaching down to the small of that tiny back -- the sight of which oddly put me at ease. The mere presence of her and her group forced the hellions into hiding. From what I'm told, I blacked out shortly after and I was taken to their base of operation for tending and debriefing.

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      During the debrief I learned they knew about Kraderic and who he was. I was surprised to also learn he was expunged from Heaven, though none knew why, only that he was a famed enigma among many circles. I only knew that I missed him. Dearly. I came to learn that hellions are creatures who exist in alternate dimensions and can come in various forms. They feed off celestial energy and, oddly enough, transmit it somehow back to their native domain. The blade I received from the merchant, Moirai, I also learned is much effective against such creatures -- and I still have it to this day, though it's seen better times.

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      I spent the next several weeks recuperating, though my body felt off. The wound was not healing as fast as I was accustomed to, and overall I felt..  tainted, if I had to choose a word. When I told Sophae this she grew concerned. Having learned my wound was from a hellion, gears shifted. I suppose considering I was healing at all, or at a very significant rate compared to others who are inflicted wounds from hellions, she overlooked it as such. The medic, Mostave, noted that the area surrounding the bite wound was discolored. I remember the look he gave Sophae, as if to tell her silently, "There's nothing we can do." 

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      The hellion's curse. A degenerative condition that kills most if not all within eighteen months, leading to severe debilitation and immobility. Sounds bad, right? Well journal, this guy has it! Though not to worry..  because of what I am, I have much more resistance to this condition. As to why, I really don't know. I wish I knew.

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      Speaking of what I know, is it strange to share someone else's journal entries with you? I learned quite a few things from Kraderic's journal..

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1. He was a much better writer than I.

2. The Argis calendar began on his day of birth.

3. I am a variant celestial -- he can speculate my origin, but he can't put his finger on it. He intensely feels that I am intricately intertwined with the universe, or reality itself. I don't understand this at all, though maybe it's the reason I am alive nearly two hundred years after contracting the hellions' curse.

4. My aura is much more potent compared to other celestials. I assume this has to do with my origins as well.

5. Moirai was a gift originally intended for him but decided to bequeath it to me. He had written that I would find it more useful than he would, referencing the hellions' weakness to the heavenly blade.

6. I have an affinity for shape-shifting. He sussed out that because of the nature of my being, I may possess the ability to take on various forms. He was correct, and I have two additional appearances I can assume: an arctic wolf and a corsac fox.

7. There were extensive writings about various topics in the journal which I've learned from. Sword fighting, stances, and general combat technique and strategem. On the other hand, I expanded on the other languages he tutored me in; Elvish, Japanese, Latin, etc. Sadly I am still not proficient at either of these.

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      For the past hundred years or so I have traveled with this group, reinforcing my blade and contempt for the nefarious hellions. The world has grown colder and more chaotic since my time with dear Kraderic. He was a kind soul who instilled within me a relunctence to combat but I must disobey. These are good people, many of whom have lost loved ones to creatures of darkness. I hope to have been a beacon of light in a moonless night for my fellow brethren, much like Kraderic was to me in my early times.

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      The year is now 4197. Our group has encompassed within its ranks over 600 members since year 4004 and I have been heralded as its lieutenant commander. We are a considerable fighting force. Our lead scout specialist is convinced that between the cities of Tuth and Shalam exists a historic mass-burial site of celestials that hellions are using to deliver energy back to their home world. We intend to fight and preserve the dignity of those fallen brethren who are being feasted upon. 

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      I'll write soon. Wish us luck.

 

 

Achiel, Halik 29th, 4197​

 

     I am shaking. I can't even write! How could our scouts have been wrong? To hell with it -- they weren't wrong, they...  they were hiding that /thing/.. Or was it summoned? I have seen nothing like it. 

     Entire platoons, bones and bodies crunched into lifelessness, with but a single swipe of its arm. An enormous 5' wide mouth armed with razor teeth..  I..  No, I can't. Their bodies, so thoroughly ripped apart. I must have subdued over fifty hellions by the time that thing showed itself...  Why couldn't I have done something more? I stood there.. and was intimately reminded of what happened to you, Kraderic. Your stomach exposed, hanging..  my brethren torn asunder.

     My friends were laid strewed about the burial site, the sounds of bones being snapped and mouths choking. I was immobile, frozen with intimidation.

     She saved me. Yanked me with uncharacteristic strength and screamed into my ear, telling me to retreat.

     Journal, there are only four of us left: Sophae and two new recruits... I need to be strong, but right now, even a week after... after that, I can't keep my emotions in check. I am a mess and undeserving of my life.

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Sacha, Avriel 10th, 5227​

     Hello, journal.

 

     I have not written in..  so, so very long. Oh just the mere movement of this quill is bringing me back..  I may not be able to do this after all.

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Pyrach, Jeha 5th, 5227​

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     I have chosen the life of a recluse, journal. Krad was correct about me. I am different than other celestials.. I am the target of hellions and their ilk. Why have I not noticed this before, that during patrols and field ops.. it was me they were targeting and not those who accompanied. My last few friends are no longer with me. I am alone now.

     

     Why was I born? Or is that even the question? Was I made? If I weren't here, would things have turned out differently for my friends? I don't have the answer to these questions and I'm sure I never will.

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    It's been over a millennia since I last wrote to you. I fear this will be my last entry. You're familiar with the hellions' curse, correct? It's nearly taken my sight and I will have to give up my love for writing. Kraderic would surely be upset, but it must be done.

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    I am sorry I was not the best owner. There are quite a few ripped pages from my times of grief and anger. And you're covered in dried blood, no less. There are many things I must answer to.. I only ask that you give me the time needed to do just that.

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    I will always keep you with me, but the quill will forever be lost. Farewell, my dear friend.

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