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Afterword


The Journal of The'Galin


Entry 13


This final entry in The'Galin's journal was recovered through the collaborative efforts of the Loremaster and the Truth Seekers. It was recovered from an excursion into the Ice Wastes to the continent of Tjeli, where the remains of The'Galin's hometown were preserved.

As the Loremaster has been otherwise occupied, the task has fallen to us to archive its contents. As the resident Archivist, I volunteered for the job and shall endeavor to do so to the best of my ability. As is my nature, I have also inscribed the events that led to its collection, and have archived them here:

Recovering the Last Journal Entry - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3


I was put to death. I cannot provide words to describe the experience fully. Safely, though, you may assume that the leaders of Tjeli did not consider mercy to be important in their process of recycling. I maintained full awareness downright until the point where my body gave out; the pain echoed for some time thereafter, and even now I sometimes feel a twinge of that violation.

I felt myself die in agony as the people of my own homeland sent me to my grave, and as my friends, caught by the bonds of those same people, sentenced me to death, one might have expected me to feel anger and disgust. I felt only great sorrow and deep sadness.

For all my efforts to accomplish things, in the end, I had failed my people. I had failed to redeem even one of them from the path on which they had slid so clearly down. The corruption that had overtaken them was institutional.

This is my ultimate agony, that in life I could not save to world I loved so fully. I could not make of it anything of value. Indeed, not one life I tried to better lasted and it haunts me.

I have now since my awakening begun to feel anger. The anger is slight but growing in magnitude by the moment. This anger however is not at where one might expect. I feel no rage at Seideilari and his ilk. Those who so clearly are gripped by their own fear and delusion at least sought to do something, however pointless and wicked. My rage is instead toward those who sought not to use their will at all or who sought advancement only through complacency. I cannot abide them, who sought the easy route to nothing but their own aggrandizement. These are the corrupt, those who let this slide happen daily through ineptitude. It is difficult for me to accept that they cannot gain the motivation required to exercise the gift and curse they have been given, who would instead seek to be led mindlessly like sheep. I can handle the wicked, I can handle the good, I can handle the outrageous, and I can handle the meek. What I cannot handle is the insipid and those bred of it. The latter, who take on a sort of pseudo-action, are really just products of that environment who take no responsibility for what they do or the damage they cause; indeed, they often revel in it, warring because it causes them delight alone.

The Elemental Powers of Lore consider themselves immune to this influence and threat. Even should the corruption not lead us, what of those like Seideilari who lash out against it irrationally and in their own wickedness will eventually turn to the heavens because of what that corruption means for the world of Lore? I take solace only in the creator herself, who has faith in her creation. A faith I once shared but find waning by the day. I have tried to convince her of the error, but it is she who more and more convinces me. She who has raised me and set me aside, she who has loved me as the example of what creation brings.

She said it clearly to me. “The corruption has indeed unleashed the worst in all, it has indeed created the darkness, but it has also unleashed you, love. What would you have been in a world untried?”

For better or worse, it is difficult to tell. I may never know the answer to this question, but can I speak to it for sure. I believe the world can know goodness, but I believe even more surely, now that I can look and see the expanses of time, that it shall never reach that goal unaided, and Lorithia only laughs and cries and says that in the end, I shall do as I am meant to do.

I do not wish it. I do not desire to be this being, so different from that I have always been. I cannot imagine it.

“Who would better serve? Would you rather the likes of Seideilari? He would accept. So would many others. Your resistance is why you are the only appropriate choice. You will do what you have to and I will do what I have to and it could not be any other way. While mortals always have free will, gods most often must bow to other pressures. Trust in creation.”

I try to trust, listening and hearing her laugh and cry. The laugh and cry is at once sad and joyous, painful and happy. How can she entertain such duality, such conflict? She has agreed to allow things to proceed in their course and in the end the conclusion cannot be denied. If anything whatsoever can be salvaged in this, it shall be through the fire and the threshing floor.

I try to trust, but it is an endless sea of thorns in which I make my bed.

She says trust, but how can I trust myself, no less that very creation that burned me? How can I trust what is apparent? What I must be has become clear and I do not desire it. The Elemental Lords will do nothing in complacency, removed from that which they wrought. They are transcendent, I must be imminent. I must become the enemy of creation to preserve it. The mirror shall show the image true.

I know it. I shall try to trust it, but for you who now bear my words: beware, for I am coming.

Know me. Know my words.

I am creation's greatest enemy. It is I who speak it. Creation’s greatest enemy is I, for creation's greatest enemy is itself. I come to test and to destroy and hope only to fail utterly as I failed in life. For in failing, I shall succeed. Those who know this and understand may come to understand me. Be ready. I am coming for you and I shall not be merciful.

So ends this, my journal oft neglected. So begins the Journal of Creation.

I am no longer the son of Galian. I am only...

The’Galin, The Uncreator, The Devourer.


The epilogue to follow will be a compilation of reflections by the Seekers. May those who wish to know the Truth continue to strive day by day to uncover it.

Keep Hope within.

Lkeas, Archivist and Prophet

Notes[]

The reflections of the Seekers can be found in the original forum thread.

Afterword


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