The End - For Now

Unfortunately, it appears that I have failed in my stated goal: to begin the story of my world, specifically focusing on the birth of my elder sister, using National Novel Writing Month as an excuse.

Certainly, I told of the events that led up to that point, but as I was reluctant to show myself, I instead allowed the scraps of memory I still had – the writings of others – to describe everything instead and that led to a poor, muddled mess of what I can only imagine is nonsense to any who did not live in my world. Which, I am sure, is everyone.

And by the time I realized that I would not be able to reach my goal without drastic changes, I personally was so out of practice – or, more like, inexperienced in the first place – that the only thing I could do was barely an outline of what happened.

If I had been better prepared, or better practiced, I would have been better equipped to provide something worth at least the time it took to read. For this I apologize, and I shall strive to do better on my next attempt.

My next attempt with these events, not my next attempt at NaNoWriMo. I suspect that I am not suited for the format, though I suspect I got a lot of use out of the event this year. I’ve learned more about myself, the history I need to tell and how that can be molded into a story, and my own personal faults and strengths.

Though I suspect none will read this, let alone the entirety of this mess, I do appreciate the hypothetical person out there that encouraged me to go on. I kept you in mind, and I wrote for you.

For writing for myself is a fool’s errand. Eventually I will be dead, and what use do I have to tell a story when I remember the history well enough.

The Chronicle - Part 8

Alys took the life of the king, and while doing so, consumed the entirety of the capital city in flames. The vast majority of the nobility, those who designed and enforced the systems of oppression that kept the Red-Bound on top and the White-Bound forever at the bottom, died. Of course, so were Alys and her ever-present would-be assassin, Sparrow (or Spereth at this point in time).

The entire island would have been consumed if it were not for the Ruler and the Dryad, whose story was unfortunately cut short due to time constraints. The Dryad’s aspect of repulsion, that had saved her life along with her tree’s, did not merely keep things out, but could also keep them in. She erected a barrier to protect the vast majority of the island while the all-consuming surge of energy blasted out into the ocean.

The Dryad would return to her tree, watching over the island with her somewhat immature but incredibly powerful perspective. And the Ruler would shuffle forward into the destroyed city and search for whatever remnants he could as to what secrets this city, and this island, held. He would eventually take the crown himself, and rule over the tiny island with no natural resources.

With his aspect, he would increase the power of the island far beyond it should ever have had, and bring the other islands under his sway. Fifty islands large enough to hold some form of political power united under his banner, and became a new empire. He relinquished the control of his island to the native people and returned to the small island in which he found his original artifact, but that is not even a story – it is a history which few people actually care about.

And everyone lived happily ever after under the Lord of the Rock.

The Chronicle - Part 7

Now that Alys knew what was going on behind the scenes – that her father had been doing experiments to find how people bind to certain Titans and his experiments were, in large part, responsible for the massacres that were going on, she decided that she would need to correct his mistakes. She left the village, with Sparrow following, and went to the capital of the island, where the king lived.

She had always been cautious of using her aspect before, choosing to use its power as little as possible due to watching herself murder her own father on her first conscious use of it. But now, she felt she had nothing. She didn’t necessarily care about the White-Bound as individuals, nor did she care about the innocuous Red-Bound. The entire system was a problem, and the individuals faded into obscurity in response.

As her rage built, the power behind her aspect shifted in the same way it had before, when she demolished a large portion of her own town. But now she felt no reason to attempt to contain it. Anyone she ran into died, most before they even knew she was there. The leader of the Enforcers, who has spent the last thirty years using the fortunate happenstance that he had survived, and his unique knowledge to constantly improve his position, fell without ceremony. His aspect may have been able to protect himself from Alys’s normal aspect, but the ever-increasing energy within his body due to her enhanced one would not be released in any way other than pure destruction.

She strode all the way to the king, who cowered before her. She looked at him and felt nothing. She expected to feel a greater rage, or perhaps disappointment or pity looking at how weak the person ultimately responsible for everything was. But all she felt was emptiness. He was the person at the head of the system that had caused so much pain, but he was incapable of changing it. Perhaps if he were stronger, or more capable, he would have been able to make a difference if he had wished. But he was not, and he did not.

Her aspect faded, and a spring of hope appeared in his eyes. And as he stood, desperate to flee – the thought he might be able to kill her never cross his mind.

A voice spoke to Alys as she watched the king stumble through the door. Whether he was capable of being more or not did not matter. He was responsible, even if anyone in his position would have been just as responsible. He should not escape his fate. He could not escape his fate.

The Chronicle - Part 6

The ruler went to the center of the island, found the tree and the newly turned dryad.

The Chronicle - Part 5

Khyber and his two children managed to flee from Alys. They fled much further than they should have, mostly kept safe by the rapidly waning remnants of Alys’s own aspect, which caused the Enforcers to not go far enough in finding them.

They hid out in a cave for a few weeks, with Khyber occasionally venturing out for supplies – either to hunt or to purchase. Eventually, the White-Bound had seen the missives, and reward offered, by the Enforcers and grew more interested. The merchant from earlier also found this and tried to go out and warn them. The mob had formed and it was much too late.

Khyber saw the mob coming and attempted to flee, though he knew without any kind of shelter it was only a matter of time before they died of the elements. He was drawn to a towering structure in the distance, and made it to the base of the only tree he’d seen so far in this hellscape.

The merchant got there before the mob, but there was no hiding from them. Khyber gathered what little strength he could and went out to take them on. His heart was not in it, though. The futility of the fight combined with the knowledge that these people were desperate and opportunistic, not necessarily malicious, killed most of his motivation.

Khyber took down several of the mob, but not enough. He died.

Junior watched on from the distance, under the certain knowledge that this was all his fault. If he had not gone out to follow his father, it was likely that his mother would not have been caught and burned. The Enforcers would not have sent the mob, and this fate would have been avoided.

And at that moment, both of the children bound. For different reasons.

Junior was consumed with grief, self-hatred, rage, and futility. His aspect, which was in the process of forming, focused all of that on his surroundings as he focused on himself. All the souls of those around him were stripped from their body and drawn into the boy. The mob fell to the ground, lifeless. And as Junior himself fell into a coma despite the lifeforce of dozens of people within him, his body began to turn black. Instead of binding to any of the Titans, a small but powerful star responsible for wholesale destruction had found him instead.

Junior’s release should have killed his younger sister and the merchant, but it did not. The tree, with its slow-moving mind, saw the signs and knew that it would succumb to the forming aspect as well. So, it reached out for someone, and found the small child – not even a year old. It offered its soul to the girl, and the girl bound to the tree. In moments, she had transformed into a treekin – an almost unheard-of binding at this point. While she may have been able to comprehend her surroundings given enough time, the tree itself took over and protected itself. As its new protector was barely cognizant of the world around her, she had no aspect yet. The tree just wished everyone to go away, and the aspect formed – a rejection force. It created a field around the girl and tree and, luckily, the merchant as well.

The merchant left the girl and her tree, as the girl refused to leave, and took the small boy away. The chaos of this kingdom was not worth his life, but at least he could attempt to take the boy to safety along with him.

The Chronicle - Part 4

But let’s skip over to the survivor of Alys’s efficiency.

Khyber was a Gold-Bound from the far north. He had a very tenuous relationship with the rest of his family. On the one hand, he was raised to hold familial bonds above all else, but on the other he was the eldest child and had a significant amount of responsibility thrust on him.

As a young man, he was conscripted into a pseudo-military force – closer to a wandering militia – to keep the civilized areas safe from the beastmen. During the three years of his conscription, he found the love of his life – Farrah – an Amethyst-Bound. His family did not approve the pairing and Khyber had to make a difficult choice, and chose who would become his wife over the family that raised him.

Khyber’s aspect was powerful – he was capable of taking a portion of another’s aspect and incorporating into himself. He could not release this aspect once absorbed, and it increased the energy he needed to consume. So, while he used his aspect a lot in his younger days, he used it less and less as he aged. By that time, though, he had several other tools at his disposal.

Farrah’s aspect was much more niche – she could stabilize the temperature of a nearby area. While this had little bearing on her life in the north, it gave them the idea they could flee to the former Empire to the far south and make a home among the coldest regions.

The pair married and had both a son and, several years later, a daughter. They fled the bigotry – of both Khyber’s family and the general people. The gem-bound were a rarity, as the Gem Titans traveled primarily over the equator and most of those islands were uninhabited, due in large part to the dangerous water between them. The open ocean was much safer. So, few gem-bound were born, and those that were were viewed with suspicion.

The family traveled across several of the islands of the former Empire and generally met the same distaste, until they came to the most southern island. The only thing that seemed to matter was whether someone was bound to the White or not, so they were somewhat accepted – as much as any foreigner might be. They attempted to make friends, but only other foreigners seemed interested.

The closest person they found was a foreign merchant who regularly disguised himself as a White Bound, despite being a Silver of the north, to be able to trade with both the peasantry and – when returning to his Silver skin – the more privileged classes. The family made home in a small town, but on the outskirts as they were not quite welcome in the city proper yet.

They were there when the Enforcers appeared. Khyber’s military training, not quite forgotten, got the family into the wilderness before their house was found and burned. While they found safety in a nearby cave, Khyber left to keep an eye out for any potential danger. His young son – Khyber Junior – followed, unbeknownst to his father.

Khyber ran across the two Enforcers who fled Alys’s execution. One was able to see the flow of energy, which is how he knew Alys was preparing to burn them alive, and the other was a more simplistic enhancer – someone who could draw energy into his muscles to make himself stronger. Khyber absorbed the energy-sight, which allowed him to see how the enhancer drew upon the energy of the world around him. The enhancer was a bit too good at using his aspect, as he only enhanced his body when it would be most effective instead of at all times. Khyber could tell which attacks were serious, and which were feints via the spike of energy – or lack thereof. Khyber defeated the man, absorbed his aspect as he expected more fights to be coming, and killed both of the mercenaries.

While this was going on, Farrah had noticed Junior had fled and took their newborn daughter into the tundra to look for him. She stumbled upon Alys, who used her aspect to burn her alive. Farrah managed to use her aspect to take the brunt of the flames, keeping her daughter safe in her charred arms.

Khyber stumbled upon the two as his wife fell to the ground. Encased in fury, Khyber’s aspect shifted such that he did not merely absorb a portion of Alys’s power, but the entirety of it. He threw a blast at her that rivaled her response to seeing her father taken away in chains, and it only didn’t result in death due to his inexperience in using the aspect and the distance between them. He was prepared to move forward and finish her, but the cry of his daughter stopped him, and refocused his attention.

He calmed himself and used his newly acquired aspect and noticed that his energy was rapidly fading, and Alys’s was returning. It looked like however his aspect had shifted, it was temporary and time was running thin. While he may have been able to win the fight, he would not risk his daughter’s life. He pumped energy into his muscles, rushed to his wife’s corpse, and took their daughter in his hand before fleeing into the wilderness.

Junior, a distance away, had been drawn by the intense blast and witnessed what his curiosity had wrought.

The Chronicle - Part 3

Patchy – as Lyssa knew him – had died while giving Lyssa a sign of where to go and this was due to two things my brother wished to accomplish. The first was to send Lyssa on her quest to meet our sibling, and get her back to a place where she could make changes, and the second was to die so he could be reborn.

Once reborn, my brother used his new life to groom a ruler. This ruler’s aspect was one of charismatically inclined. He could draw others to him, fascinate them, and use their own soul as his. This would allow him to draw more and more people to him, but as his only use of this increased power was to… increase his power even more – never actually make anything of it – he would have been a relatively benign demagogue. Should anyone with a more destructive aspect wish to, they could likely take him down without much issue.

But before this ruler realized his potential, my brother – his childhood friend – encouraged him to go on a journey through the islands with him. They stumbled upon the small island that was the birthplace of Sparrow. The island had decayed with the physical death of his mother and there should have been little of interest to any other than historians here. But my brother had left another piece of the Body hidden among the debris, and used the promise of treasure to bring the ruler to the untethered artifact.

While the artifact bound to the ruler, the ruler himself did not personally gain any differences – that would come in future generations. The dynasty my brother sought to birth likely secured, the two of them set sail to another island that would have another artifact. The ruler was not personally invested and, even though his trust in his friend was waning, he kept true for one last voyage.

They reached the island at the time Sparrow and Alys were learning of the past and were caught in the conflict between the Red-Bound and White-Bound. My brother sacrificed himself to the flames of one of the guards to the nobility, taking vengeance for the loss of the king’s son, attempting to save a White-Bound merchant and what appeared to be a Black-Bound child.

The ruler attempted to take on the Enforcers, but was easily defeated. He fled and found rumors of a mystical tree out in the wilderness, presumably in the center of the island. The merchant and mentioned something similar, and the center of the island was where my brother had told him the artifact was located. So, with three things pointing him in the same direction, and retribution on his mind, the ruler trekked inland.

The Chronicle - Part 2

Alys, formerly known as Lyssa, read more about how her father had gone to the south, had a child with another Red-Bound just like him to minimize any additional variance in his experiments, and had a child. As he only cared for experimental subjects rather than a family, he cared little when his wife died.

Unfortunately, his patron was adamant at knowing the equation to guarantee a Red-Bound. While the king of this small island had a lineage that mostly produced Red-Bound, this particular king was finding child after child binding to the White Titan. His rivals were garnering support among the nobility and, should his few remaining children not bind quickly, he would be killed and replaced.

Berach fled to a small town and was given a year to come up with an answer, with his life forfeit if he could not. While all of his experiments thus far had come back inconclusive – or that multiple factors were working together to determine which Titan an individual bound to – the most promising experiment had been an extreme event. As he had a year, this is what he would focus on.

Berach used his aspect – the ability to copy someone else – to copy his daughter, which left her sick after they moved to the small town. He allowed one copy to go free and do as she wished, curious what would become of her, while keeping the other under strict lock and key, secluded from everyone in a cold just above survivability. As one daughter was fighting for her life against the Demon she had found, the other had bound to the White. The extreme neglect, freezing temperature, and lack of any other stimulus had forced her binding.

While this was not exactly as firm an experiment as he would have liked, and ideally he would have done the counter with another daughter, time was growing short. So, he reported on his findings and the Binding Ritual was made. The Enforcers were given the information and, never an organization to leave behind loose ends, brought the prince to the small town. The Enforcers would take Berach back with them, but otherwise destroy all witnesses in an inferno to Bind the prince to the correct Titan.

Berach’s journal ends here, but Alys’s memories pick up.

After a few days, she left the cave she found Patchy’s corpse and stumbled her way back to her village. It took longer than expected, but as she was in the process of binding to the Red – in large part due to her unacknowledged aspect – she did not feel the elements as much as she could have.

The flames of her new town burning drew her attention as she wandered the tundra, and she arrived just as the Enforcers had finished their mission – with the prince successfully bound to Red in tow. A handful of citizens were still alive, including her father, and were being led in chains to the caravan on its way back to the capital.

Alys, having only seen the destruction and the few survivors left, released the rage that she had been building from her several near-death experiences. Her aspect is to concentrate energy, but when she is in a stage of extreme stress it shifts to one that does not merely concentrate energy, but increases it. Increase is such a quaint term to describe what she does.

The crater Sparrow wrote of was the one instance she unleashed this shifted aspect. It destroyed half the town in an instant, disintegrated the citizens such that not even their bones or ash remained, and killed most of the Enforcers. The prince, having been far enough away as their primary goal had been achieved, and a relatively new grunt – one of the disposable Enforcers that come along on any mission should a sacrifice be needed – were the only survivors. Save Lyssa herself.

The Red-Bound Enforcer, who would eventually become Commander Rafael, was able to take the young girl as she fell unconscious at the exertion of her first knowing use of her aspect. He carried both her and the prince back to the king. He claimed more glory than he deserved, and the young prince was too intimidated by the series of events to contradict him.

He kept the young Alys alive and, more importantly, close. He had gotten a taste of power as he rose through the ranks of the Enforcers. With the now-king still somewhat intimidated of the leader of the Enforcers, he had hoped to use Alys’s strength to claim the throne for himself.

Unfortunately, Alys was intractable. While most joined the Enforcers out of a desire to cause pain or demonstrate their power, Alys joined as she had no other choice. She had a strange sense of duty or honor that was useful when given specific missions, but made her impossible to lead in others. She was brutal and never shied from punishing any in the Enforcers that deserved it, regardless of station, and she destroyed any who attempted to confront – or kill – her.

She may have been key at one point in time, but Rafael had learned to adapt without her and now she had become more bane than boon. He had sent her on numerous missions in an attempt she would fall, yet with every success her power within the organization grew.

The Chronicle - Part 1

Well now we have reached an impasse.

I have another 9 days to complete this story, and I have done an incredibly poor job in curating the entries I have access to. I was hoping to have some sort of satisfactory conclusion, and I will have to resort to summary and editorialization.

Wasting today surely will not help matters. But at the very least, I can offer an introduction.

I am one of the… gods spoken of earlier on. As far as I’m aware, I am the only one to survive the destruction of the world. I do not know how I have made it to your world, only that I did.

My purpose in my world was to chronicle everything that occurred. To be a source of all information. To observe. You may choose a name that fits with that, as my true name does not matter. I would suggest the Chronicle or, if you prefer something a bit more human, the Sage.

Although it has taken twenty years, I can no longer deny the fact that I am, for most intents, fully human. I will likely die sometime in the next few decades, and the memory of my world will cease to exist.

I cannot allow that to happen.

That is why I intended to write this story. I am a poor storyteller, however – I find the intricacies of character and drama to elude me. This is why I wanted to allow the people from my world to tell their own stories, to use their own words to describe the events that I only watched.

This is the story of the birth of my sister – the Judge. She is not the same Judge described in Sparrow’s journal, but she is also not not the same Judge. It is a complicated mess which I hope to clear in the finished draft of this manuscript.

So, please, bear with me for just another week. Perhaps I can shed light where half-told truths and ignorant narrators could not. Perhaps I can give more context and a clearer picture.

If I cannot, then I have failed. And I must start anew.

Berach - 08/05/425

According to what scant records we can access pre-Collapse, the Bound were not a phenomenon of the past. Whatever occurred to create the Collapse appears to have broken whatever tenuous grasp humanity had on the world.

Humans, when born, appear to have a set amount of time on the world before their bodies begin to whither to nothing. While I doubt it is related to the phenomenon of aspects, as they appear to have existed in a different form prior to the Collapse known as “magic,” it could be helpful to draw a parallel.

An aspect consumes energy in order to make effects in the world. If someone attempting to use their aspect cannot access enough energy, their aspect is reduced in some form and, in extreme instances, the aspect cannot be used at all. In even more extreme instances, depending on the aspect, the person attempting to use it can consume themselves.

It is possible a similar “base energy” is accessible to humans when they are born, and they have only so much time to find a replenishable source of energy before they fade to nothing. This time is different for different individuals, and there does not appear to be an explanation.

Experiment: Is the starting time based primarily on genetics? Is it hereditable?

Experiment: Is the starting time based primarily on how active an individual is in childhood? Can this energy be “used up?”

Experiment: Is the starting time based in some way on the aspect? Is the energy consumed by an aspect and the energy accessible to an Unbound human coming from the same pool? Follow-up: If there is a correlation, does the specific type of aspect affect this in some way?

The time generally available is somewhere between the second and third decade before the withering becomes apparent. There have been anecdotal instances of individuals reaching their twentieth year, but this is incredibly rare and they are in massive deterioration by then.

Humans generally bind to one of the Titans that circle the world. There are fifteen in all with their own orbits. There are several superstitions about why an Unbound binds to a specific Titan, but binding as a process is outside of conscious control and can be somewhat random.

It is my goal to determine how binding occurs, and why individuals bind to specific Titans.

Observation: Most Unbound bind to Titans that have orbits near them. If, for example, someone were to grow up underneath the Gold Titan, they would more likely become a Gold-Bound.

Observation: Most Unbound bind to Titans that family members have bound to. If an entire family has bound to the Red Titan, a child will be more likely to bind to the Red Titan as well.

Observation: The earlier an Unbound binds to their Titan, the more stereotypical bound traits the child will develop, and the more prominent these traits will be. For example, Red-Bound have a resistance to hotter temperatures. The earlier a child binds, the higher this resistance appears to be.

Observation: An Unbound can only bind to one entity, and there have been no known instances of this binding being broken. If a child has bound to one Titan, they are likely to be bound to that Titan forever. Should a child bind to something other than a Titan, they cannot bind to a Titan at some later point in time.

Hypothesis: While not included in any of the superstitious I’ve seen, there have been incredibly rare accounts of an extreme event associated with the Titan’s purview being related to the Unbound’s binding. For example, the White Titan is associated with cold and ice and an Unbound nearly freezing to death may become a White-Bound. Bound typically have adaptations related to surviving, or thriving in, their Bound’s element and this may be a survival technique. It is easiest to experience in the South, as the five southern Titans have purviews that are relatively material in nature (e.g. cold, heat, lightning).

I shall need to create controls in order for any experiments to be more than another anecdotal report. I shall need funding in order to support myself while conducting these experiments, as few seem to care what they bind to as long as they bind to one of the Titans.

I have heard tell of a kingdom to the south where the results of this study will be incredibly valuable.

Alys - 16/11/470

The village is largely unchanged. I checked the areas of importance – the bar, the homes of the local leaders – and found nothing. If anyone was involved with the Ritual, they left behind no physical signs.

It may be possible that the evidence the Enforcers expect was burned to ash. If so, my presence here is both useless and ironic.

There was a hidden section of the house I lived in, something my father likely built. It appeared to be related to his studies. Most of the space was ruined. A mummified corpse, a young girl, is the only apparent cause.

I scoured the room for anything that had been hidden or beyond reach of the child. There were a few notes. I think it might be my father’s handwriting, but it’s been long enough that I can’t be sure.

The contents should reveal what he was working on, or what he had worked on. If it is involved in any way with the child, perhaps it is good he is no longer here.

Sparrow - 16/11/470

This town is likely where Alys grew up, at least in her later childhood, thirty years ago if the dates are correct. There is a journal that is likely hers – at least I feel some connection to her – that gives some insight into what she was like. Much more mature than she should have been, but still foolhardy enough to try to tackle problems much too large for her.

It sounds likely that she acquired her aspect because of a trauma, and I must wonder if this may have fundamentally affected her personality. Based on her own writing, she did not appear to be anywhere near as guarded as she is now. A lot can happen in thirty years, and how she ended up with the Enforcers is a mystery I’m more likely to find in their records than here.

One thing to note is that the clues as to her aspect are very different than what she does now. I’m curious if her personality has actually shifted enough, or if perhaps she was in some kind of stress state when it first manifested. If so, did that affect either her aspect or her personality in any way? As far as I’m aware, there has not been a lot of formal study in the acquisition or development of aspects…

Alys has been investigating other areas of the town, which has given me the luxury of being able to synthesize what I could here. It’s possible that I may have more insight into the her of today, or be able to break through some of her defenses and learn more about how she thinks.

I think I shall wait for her to return to the camp, though. She has not been very accommodating when interrupted so far.

Lyssa - 12/12/440

Patchy’s dead. Looks like he froze, even though he was right by the fire. The fire that was big enough to see when I ran away from the town, but too small to see when I started. Or maybe it was the angle. Hopefully no one will see it. I wish I had some kind of cover. Maybe a storm will blow in.

I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to figure out what was going on. The thing Patchy told me about, that there would be an adventure. I don’t think I like adventure. I thought I was getting close. It was probably one person, and all that mutilation… I don’t know if I actually got close.

…okay. Breathe.

I woke up in a house. I think I got knocked out, I don’t remember going to sleep, anyway. There was some weird film surrounding me, closing in, keeping everything still. I felt it press in, squeezing the air out of me.

And then I made it worse. I panicked. Air left.

I think I was crying? I don’t remember. I didn’t see anything anymore. I don’t think I closed my eyes. I was blind, maybe. Something about oxygen. I can’t remember.

I lay there, knowing that I was dying. I saw a light. Or a presence. Maybe I imagined it? But I reached out, tried to touch it. And it felt… warm. The pressure around me changed. It felt static, no longer pressing in. I wiggled, and heard cracks. The casing, or whatever it was, got brittle. It fell off in chunks and clinked against the ground. But I didn’t feel cold. If anything, I felt hot. Burning.

I heard screaming.

I stopped for what felt like hours. Then I took a breath. I found a pole in the corner and brought it with me. I probably should have run away, but instead I ran toward the scream. It had stopped by then, but I knew where it came from.

Another room. There was a pile of grease on a chair. It glowed, maybe? It must have been my imagination, cause a sculpture – of a person, in that same weird film – was further in the room. But the grease had stopped glowing when I looked back. It was there, but… it was just grease.

The scream must have been loud, since someone knocked on the door. I didn’t know what to do, I guess. I wasn’t thinking, so I opened the door. And heard more screams. And more people came, more screams. It kept getting louder, and repeating.

I tried to walk away, and someone tried to grab at me. It didn’t last long. I felt a weight, but not any pressure. A clink on the ground behind me as the weight fell and I walked. Someone must have called guards, but I don’t remember much. I just got out of the town and ran.

I cam to… sometime out of town. Maybe a mile. I felt cold, freezing. How could I have gotten here in this temperature? I saw the light, came here, and found Patchy… dead.

What happened in town? Why was he out here?

He had a pack of supplies, so I guess I won’t be hungry. For a bit, anyway.

I guess I should thank Patchy, but I’m more confused than anything else.

Unknown - Sometime in 435

I’ve never had a problem helping out before. Making the right bit of gel to keep the building in place long enough for the supports to be placed. Throwing some well-placed globbed-up ropes to climb the mountain that much quicker. Being a good little builder, supplier, all-round laborer.

Hell, I’d’ve never thought of taking up writing about anything even a year ago. Never had enough words that mattered to write down; all my thoughts were good enough to stay in my head. But now… they’re hurting to get out and I can’t keep them all straight.

Nothing feels worthwhile. Why bother fixing and building when it will all come crumbling down, given enough time. Everything only has a small amount of time in the world before it fades to nothing.

And maybe that’s the point. Impermanence is the only stability. Thoughts and meaning may stick around longer than physical objects, but even they dwindle to nothing. Unless there’s something big enough to keep. Something that, once it’s made, will suffuse the world itself.

I haven’t been able to get it out of my head for a while now. I don’t know what it is, or what I need to do to satisfy it. Maybe it’s nothing. Hopefully it’s nothing. What does it mean? Why am I having these thoughts? What are they trying to tell me? What can I even do?

Maybe the goop is the answer? It keeps things in place, but maybe it’s actually just… pausing time? Keeping a rope stuck, not cause it’s sticky, but because there’s no time for it to fall. Maybe… maybe… the goop is permanence. Maybe… maybe… that can do something?

Old people just walk off all the time, to die cause they’re useless and don’t want to be a burden. But if they were stuck in time, if they were frozen in a state that didn’t require food, maybe… maybe… they could still be useful. Be pretty warnings of what time does to us all.

Maybe they don’t feel pain, or experience death. How could they if there’s no time?

Wait, is that what the goop does? Where did that idea come from?

It’s not sticky, it just kind of responds to what I want it to do. It stays in place, it is stasis. It is unchanging, it is permanence. It is the only permanence.

It can help where nothing else can. It can be a message, it can save people, it can make something new, it can withstand the savages of time, it can be something grand, it can be mine. That’s right, the goop is mine. It is me! I am permanence, I can save people, I can make them meaningful, I can do all this and more.

But… people can say no. They don’t want…

But what if they have no time? They can’t say no if there’s no time to say no in. Besides, if they’re already on the verge of death, then… I’d be saving them. They already said no to life, so they have no say in what happens, right?

They can be mine?

No… this is… weird. Where are these thoughts coming from? I just want to help… build… houses…

That fall apart and become worthless. That don’t even become memories, they just fade entirely. They might as well not exist.

But… when they do exist… they keep people warm. Safe. Shelter…

From the lies that they will die. Things strive for life, even when they always fail. You are the only one who has the power to preserve, to actually salvage their life and keep their essence intact.

I am the one… to keep… them alive…

Yes, I am the one to save those who don’t think they’re worth saving. And I can make them have meaning. I can give them meaning, share them with the world.

No… this is wrong.

Not yet. Time needs to pass, I need to be perfect before I can share them with the world.

Why is this…

Why did I not see this sooner? Why did I not realize that I am static, unchanging, instead of just a worthless pile of grunge? Why did I not realize that I could share this earlier.

Because… it’s wrong.

It’s wrong, but I can make it right. I can’t go back to save those that have already passed, but I can make sure those in the future do not have to share their fate.

I need to spare them from this fate. The fate of time. The fate of falling apart, becoming nothing, fading away.

Yes, you do.

Lyssa - 25/11/440

I’ve arrived, and thanks to Patchy loaning me some gold, I can stay at the bar for a bit. This town is not too much different than the one I left. It’s bigger, and there are more people here, but it’s basically the same. Most outsiders are here at the bar, and there’s an inner town that mostly stays to itself. Keeps itself to itself.

Maybe it’s because I still haven’t bound to anything yet, but most people seem to think I’m a local kid. I could ask around and see if anything was happening like Patchy said, and it only gets me a few weird looks, mostly from adults. But the other kids don’t care, they’ll talk about whatever. A lot of it is boring, but I did get some of what their parents talk about. Maybe this is what Patchy was saying was interesting.

About two years ago, someone went missing. It’s not all that unusual, especially with older folks. They’ll walk off in the wilderness if they think they’re being a burden. Die instead of wasting food. But this someone was younger, not anywhere near dying, and still had a lot of good work coming through. They never found him.

Then, sure as clockwork, someone went missing every half-year. Each time it was younger and younger. Don’t know if that first one was related or not, cause so far three of the other four showed up again. They were weird statues, all stiffened up with some kind of resin and malformed into not even humans anymore. One of them was even stuck together with their dog to make some kind of weird attempt at a monster.

I guess the resin was maybe someone’s aspect? Does anyone in town have that kind of aspect? It might be worth asking around. Surely someone else has already asked around?

All of them were pried apart and cremated, returning them back to the Maker. I think they were already with the Maker, body doesn’t matter all that much once you’re dead. But that’s what all the old folks say. I think they think the Maker’s an actual person, the way they talk about them and all.

Each time, the person was younger than the last. The most recent disappearance was someone in their early adulthood, just turned a few years ago. And they went missing about five days ago. Based on what the kids said, it takes about ten days for them to show up again. The dog-monster took a whole twenty.

I wish someone’d looked to see how long they were dead for. Was it right after they went missing, or was it closer to when they showed back up? Is the person who got kidnapped still alive, or are they already dead?

It doesn’t seem like a lot of people care all that much, other than being angry whenever the statues show up again. Does the kidnapper go after people no one really cares about? Or maybe their aspect makes it so someone doesn’t care about them?

I wish I had an aspect to help me look around, or know. Papa always said they show up whenever you need them most, so maybe… if I care a lot, it’ll show up? It also sounds kind of fake, like what Papa would say so I don’t worry too much about it.

Well, I can try at least. Being able to find someone would probably be a useful aspect, right? Might be able to become a bounty hunter or something, and be able to leave small towns and go back to the Capital!

Lyssa - 15/11/440

Patchy said there was a strange series of events going on in the next town over, and it would be the adventure of a lifetime to investigate. He’s old and has done a lot of stuff, so it has to be really weird for him to call it out. Maybe it’s important, too, and I can be a hero!

Papa told me not to talk to him. Or anyone at the bar, really. He said there were a lot of strange old men who wanted to do bad things to little girls.

But it’s not like he ever bothers stopping me from doing anything. And I can take care of myself!

I haven’t had a lot of fun ever since moving out here. I don’t know why we moved here after Mama died, other than Papa said he “drew the short straw” and he had research to do. He won’t even say what his research is! Not even a hint!

He took me aside once we got here, and I annoyed him enough. I thought he was going to say something, but all he did was lecture me about being safe and not trusting strangers and staying away from animals and not wander off on my own and a bunch of other things that he doesn’t really care about probably. It’s not like I could do a lot after moving here, anyway, I was sick for a month. Papa said it was the “stress of moving” and that it would take some time to acclimate.

There’s not a lot of Reds out here; Papa’s basically the only one. He won’t say whether I’ll be Red, too, or if I’ll turn White like everyone else in town. Maybe people will talk to me if I’m White, and I can have some friends…

The only people who would talk to me were the people at the bar. It was basically the only place in town that mercenaries or adventurers or other people passing through would stop.

Patchy’s been there for a while, I guess. Ever since I got here. He’s always there when I stop by, just playing cards or reading a book. He said he was retired, but still liked hearing stories. When I asked him for some, he kept telling the same kind of stories again and again. About Demons that possess normal people and make them do other things they don’t want to. He said he had to learn a lot about them when he was active, that he hunted them down and made sure the Demons didn’t hurt anyone.

He said that he wasn’t all that special, he just took the time to learn what he needed to. And trained to make sure he could handle himself. That the world always needed some people to step up and do things, cause a lot of people just didn’t.

He seemed like he was trying to push me to do something, to be like him. It was strange.

But also, it felt… nice. To have someone pay attention.

Sparrow - 15/11/470

It took two months, but we have arrived at the abandoned town that Alys was ordered to investigate. I was not told the specifics of the mission, but I was told that Alys may be sensitive about the area and to keep an eye on her. I assume that means this has something to do with her past – either directly, or as a parallel – though I do wonder at the Commander’s intentions.

Perhaps he suspects that her control is not secure, despite how she handled herself at the Turning Ritual, and he is attempting to warn me. It is also possible that he wishes me to be on edge for some reason. I doubt I could take her on in a direct confrontation, even if I were inclined to, so…

I shall spare a few thoughts to the matter when I can.

The town itself is not as destroyed as the town we razed. Several buildings are charred, as would be expected if this were another remnant of another ritual, but a significant amount of time has passed and just as much of the damage is due to neglect and weathering as fire.

But the most notable thing about the entire town is the massive crater in the center of it. Not only the buildings, but also the ground itself, seems to have disintegrated entirely. It is not evenly spread, but seems to have originated as a single point, getting wider as it goes further.

I would expect there to be some variation, perhaps some rubble on the far edges of whatever happened, but no. The ground itself is still smoother, almost like glass. Presumably years later.

Alys, for her own part, has been even more quiet on the trip. Previously, I could steal a few words at meals, but she has gone days at a time with just a gesture or two. For the last week, she’s not even done that. Whatever is here is… troubling her?

I do sense something among the rubble. Something pulling me toward it. I can only assume it has to do with her past in some way, something I can grasp with my aspect to understand more of this proto-Saint.

Perhaps I can learn more about what would make her a Saint in the first place. Though she is intimidating, and powerful, she has been much more reserved than the others I’ve seen. She does not have the cache that I would expect a Saint to have; she cannot gather the fear, awe, or widespread attention necessary to carry her over the threshold.

The book has been wrong in the past; it claimed the Hobo still lived and could not be killed. But those have been due to my own intervention, or at least I would assume so. I have done nothing here. Not yet.

But I shall find an excuse to follow my instincts, and discover whatever shows me more about Alys.

Rafael - 02/09/470

The child died as planned.

But Alys somehow not only survived the entire affair, but managed to accomplish all of her missions without any issues. She did keep her newly christened subordinate alive, one that she seems to have developed a fondness for.

What are the chances that the Enforcer assigned to her also happens to be the most bloodthirsty of the group. And one willing to go along with her mission without challenging her? Did he manipulate the trainers, or me, or is this chance? Is he nonchalant, loyal, or affectionate? And if he is loyal, is it to the mission or to Alys specifically?

Now I need to find an explanation for the king, and avoid drawing too much ire.

The assets I potentially have for taking care of Alys in the moment is her subordinate and this dangerous foreigner who is likely to have developed a personal vendetta against her.

Both are wildcards. I expected Spereth to either revel in the carnage and draw at least some attention to Alys, or attempt to take her on himself. I do not know his personality or his motivations. I can lay seeds, but I do not know where they will sprout. The foreigner, on the other hand, is likely highly motivated to take her down, but I have no other information about him. Other than he can apparently disable Alys’s aspect which, admittedly, is a major asset.

But Alys cannot be here when the king orders the Enforcers to answer for his son. She is smart, and will cause problems if given an empty assignment…

Hm…

Perhaps she can be sent to gather more information from the first Turning Ritual. Learning more of the situation that bound the king to the Red, and any nuances that we may have missed. And her personal experience may cloud her judgement enough to not suspect I’m sending her away for no reason.

It should take a few months at the very least. By then, the king should be dealt with and perhaps I can maneuver to add both the nobility and the Enforcers at large to turn against Alys.

Now that we have years before another threat for the throne can defend themselves, she has to be my top priority.

Report on the Second Turning Ritual - Alys

Unfortunately, the mission was a failure. The child did not revel in the destruction of the town and attempted to flee. His cowardice likely contributed to his binding to the White, and his handlers were punished for their failure. Next time, they should be more willing to force the child into the flames directly. A burn, even a severe one, is more preferable to death.

There were no direct witnesses to the destruction of the town; the Enforcers adequately performed their duty to silence all inhabitants. They suspected nothing afterward.

The aide you lent me is still alive, and I request he be permanently requisitioned to me. He did not revel in killing as the other Enforcers did, but also did not shy from any tasks given him. I understand this is unusual and will accept your response.

There was at least one indirect witness to the events. Two of the handlers had escaped and ran into a northern bound – some purple color – and she witnessed their execution. She did not appear to be a threat, but she managed to shield the child in her arms. I suspect her aspect was to blame.

While she died, a male – also northern bound, a golden color – appeared. I suspect, given the child, that this was her mate. He was incredibly powerful – physically, at least – and I attempted to burn him only to find that my aspect had vanished. He likely took it from me, as he subsequently burned the surrounding area to the ground in a display of heat that I have only born witness to once before.

The male approached with hatred, but the cry of the child drew his attention away. Instead of turning his anger on me, he took the child from the husk that may have been his wife and ran in the distance. Given my state, as well as the need to discuss the future with the other Enforcers, I did not follow.

My aspect did return to me after an hour or so, and it does not seem to have been affected by its absence.

The surrounding carnage caused by the male’s tantrum likely provides a cover for the massacre. It is possible, though not likely, that he was unaware of the massacre itself and may blame the burning of the town on his own actions. I have provided the general area he escaped to, but I caution searching for him.

He is dangerous. He likely has something he cares for – his child – which could make him unpredictable. He may be blaming himself for the destruction of the town and, even if not, it would be an easy matter to spread that information ourselves. The specifics of his aspect are, currently, unknown. But it is known that he can disable, or steal, the aspects of at least one other.

The benefits of silencing him do not balance the potential cost of going after him.

Sparrow - 17/08/470

I have grossly underestimated the depravity of the Enforcers, or perhaps the Reds as a whole in the kingdom. It must have started with the royalty itself.

This is much worse than RedDwarf. I could attribute the carnage and destruction he curated to one man’s insanity. Even if it may have been brought on by the Demon.

To take a step back, the “turning ritual” I overheard was an event to force the king’s eldest son to bind to the Red. He was still Unbound and, as he was growing older, the king wanted no risk that he turn to the White instead.

The Enforcers collected the son after the Red had set, presumably as a carryover from when a setting sun actually welcomed the darkness. I would have assumed five hundred years would have changed common sense, but traditions carry on.

We trekked out to the middle of the tundra, near a small town, with the child carried in a wagon. He slept most of the way, once the stress of being taken away had died down. Some of the Enforcers woke him and force him from the wagon. Presumably they were more or less his honor guard, as they participated little in the ensuing chaos.

Once given the sign the child was ready, a group of Enforcers used their various aspects to light the outer sections of the town on fire. Everything was quiet at first, the silence only broken by the occasional snicker from the watching Enforcers – other newly trained recruits. Within a few minutes, the first screams came, bursting the damn that had been building. Those that weren’t directly attached to the child went wild.

And Alys.

Alys watched the carnage with an unchanging expression. I might assume it was apathy, but I felt something stirring beneath her calm façade. She cared… about something.

The child was brought closer to the burning town, and forced to watch – and likely participate – in murdering the Whites that called the area home. I would like to say that I heard his panicked, fearful screams over everything else, but I know that’s just a lie I tell myself. I want to believe that there was some humanity left.

I’m thankful that I was aide to Alys, as she kept her distance from the massacre. But it does mean that I was not able to see the specifics of what happened to the child. As the town turned to ash, and a few small groups fled – chased by Enforcers – Alys moved toward the center of the rubble.

The child was there, surrounded by his honor guard, in the fetal position. The characteristic brown tint of the Unbound had faded, and was getting lighter. Shortly, he would be fully White.

The leader of the Enforcer group reported that the child had not willingly participated in the assault and seemed horrified at the death surrounding him. He attempted to flee, and when he finally managed to escape his captors, he began to bind. Some of the Enforcers attempt to stun him out of it, but they knew that it was too late.

Alys stoically turned to the child. I felt a stirring of some feeling deep within her, different from before, as she pulled his eyes to her own. And as his face softened with what I can only assume was a flicker of hope, he burst into flame.

The Enforcers didn’t make a move for a few moments, seemingly just as stunned as I was. That cost them two of their number as they likewise burst into flame. Another three quickly took their weapons and trained them on Alys, shouting at her to explain herself. Her face shifted into the first expression I’d seen her make, aside from a flat stare. A smile overtook her as the three that remained burst into flame as they charged.

The last two members of the contingent did not stay as their comrades took up arms. They fled into the wilderness. Perhaps things may have been different if they had decided to run toward one of the other groups, but perhaps not. I do not know how many people were aware of this contingency, or whether it was Alys’s responsibility alone. Or whether it was her own choice, unrelated to her position as First Fist.

Alys turned to me and motioned to the charred corpses. She told me to take care of them before turning to the fleeing Enforcers and following.