Tenth author's journal 2: Mikhail

44.1_First tragedy

Chapter 44.1: Burning down species

Terra’s stalactite: There are two forms of this spell, the earth form collect the mineral from the ground and pierce them into spear-like terrain, and the water form collects mineral from liquid and create spikes that shot at a destination. The spell requires a large amount of concentration it’s more advisable to use the earth form.

Truth’s twister: The authority belongs to the fallen sepharim Lucifer, it has dimensional and time-twisting prosperity and runs on the user karma. Thus the more probability it takes to fulfill the wish, the more karma it causes in the user's life. If one inherited this authority rather than Lucifer himself, there are much more limitations as hierarchy and mana usage.

The star that charmed all: The authority belongs to the fallen sepharim Lucifer, the affected victims can’t take their focus off the user and will do everything to win the user’s favor. Strong-willed or unwavering beliefs are the answer to breaking this authority.

[Lambert’s pov]

I wonder what Matasyn was talking about, the “did I” carry about doubt and regret. If he had time to regret, he would have time to stop. I never intend to carry fully with the plan of rebellion. Not for the youth's determination and Matasyn’s sacrifice, things wouldn’t escalate this much.

Everything in place for Sariel’s dethroned, truly I never have brief with that seraphim but after the sealing, something was wrong that. After becoming the most or one of the most powerful beings of paradise after God, he went obsessed with researching. How to create a homunculus that fits a sepharim.

Whatever comes through that one mind should have ended the previous incarnation of Sariel.  His works are nonetheless sacrilegious, but so were I. My children had a hard time adapting to the sunlight at that time, so I have to put them down with mercy. Speaking about the youngest, Mikhail.

Well, I have never been merciful with the youngest, since God has never been kind to my fellowmen after all. One unforgivable move and zapped you are out of existence from all times, I know Sariel doesn’t have that kind of power but still he must have done something to both children of his to be so fearful of mistake.

I am just playing along, never stepping out of bounds, never disobeying his orders. I wonder what was this rebellious thinking coming from. Is it from my own or other influences rub on this ancient being?

Rumbling and crashing upon the earth and the crackling earth rupture upon the west side of the continent what is happening. There has been disruption among systems toward the world’s table, no they wouldn’t dare.

“Father, can you hear us?” The voice comes from the delicate string of communication with the most important child of each race I create. The crystal castle keeper, Calanis the lady of light, speaks with fear and confusion.

“Yes, where are you? What has happened?” Desperately, I look through her eyes, a dread of red following after her wounds foot and the slow in her breathing. This is that child's limit, to reach must have meant the same twist of space put upon the castle.

“The harpies are attacking us, we don’t know why but they suddenly come when dawn breaks.” Calanis cries, I try to spare many of my mana to transfer to the child to help her brethren.

“Stay in the castle basement, I will be there shortly.”

I hope to make in time, why would the harpies attack my children, and above all why the crystal castle at first. There are too many to wrap my head over, but there isn’t time to explain them, so I must resolve this immediately.

‘Wrap’ My eyes laid upon the burning piles of corpses with harpies and elves alike. Each bleeds to the end with the red and green blood intertwining with each other creating a horrible hue of a swamp.

‘Gaia’s votum ’ they don’t walk again even with the mana I pour into them, why? Tears drop like a waterfall upon the cinder battlefield. Not one of them has risen, their damages are too great to heal.

“Don’t bother, you should worry about yourself, Lambert.” The voice comes with the slash of a blade upon my right ribs. Camael…why did you do this? What has come over you, wrath? Fame?

“Camael, so this is your doing. Why?” In the pit of rage, that is what I muster, instead of flowery words and a cup of tea, we are here on the battlefield fighting each other.

“To preserve my kind future, don’t you think you are being too selfish then.” Camael continuously thrust her spear at me. My wounds bleed red as the stink of iron skewers over my hardened flesh. It’s hot, and the temperature of lava on the tip of the spear just oozes forward.

“I don’t understand what you are saying. Elves live upon the ground and harpies soar on the sky above, they can co-exist with each other.” Taking the old axe from my cave before, praying the molten spear with breaking clash each to defend myself. For the first time, I start to feel pain; for the first time, I understand the exhilaration of death.

“That is before you interfere as the last old humanity.”

She isn’t listening, to my words or the words of his comrade, why doesn’t she show any side of rationality? Maybe manipulation, cursing who twisted my name in the mud. Even with the battle turn against me, I won’t ever forgive those who sow those doubting seeds through the mind of former friends.

Tectonic plates rumble as the weapons clash two forces nature turns against each other. The embracive earth tries to cover the seething flame of misguided anger, to a fire spear ruptured to the blade, the dull axe shines those emerald light once more to the dying light.

The burning sensation sears not only my skin but light a desperate mean to survive. When I fall what will become of my youth, it would be better if I discard those unnecessary feelings and head-on kill the madden friend…

I MUST SURVIVE

[Terra’s stalactite] mineral forming from the dripping under my spear, piercing and thrust, those rocks directed at that annoying mosquito. Hit and injures that one attack slows down a little, just enough for my axe to counter. Against my swing, those parries slow down until the last light burns down from those eyes.

Then against that one can’t stay down as the authorities of the sepharim of war, there isn’t a way for me to win this fight, is it? [Truth’s twister] can’t be used at someone with more authority like Camael and [The star that charmed all] can’t affect an enraged being like Camael.

“Just give up, you can’t win, Lambert.” The grips on the axe loosen as the sentence, despair fills my being. There isn’t a way out of this peaceful with my victory so just…

Give up...

“Spare my children…” Mine plead falls on those deaf ears as Camael continue those vicious attack. I can feel my body start to fall from blood loss. The ground below has already been painted red with my bleeding.

“After what you did, I am only doing justice to lost lives. A life for a life.” Camael continues with her accusations.

“Then take my life, if you desire your justice.” Angrily I shout, and the birds rupture at my weeping.

“This better not be a trick, explain yourself.” Cameal extinguish herself while still holding her sword at the side. Does she distrust a dying man that much, whatever caused her to be this extreme may have to do with a plague going around her old village?

Throw away the axe, I dust myself from dried blood that caught over my wounds. To explain myself before the grieving judge, give me a chance to plead my innocent, I accept death easily like the rest of my kind, unknowingly and ungrudgingly.

“As you said that I have wronged your kind of massacre, the crime which I have never done. Since there is no justice but your one-sided vengeance, I offer my life to that delusional wrong.” I sigh at the confession of what I force myself to admit. Bear no sins yet take upon a thousand life…haha what irony.

“You make a valid point, the one who does wrong must serve their sentence if they so desire redemption.” Camael draws her sword, which compared to my current is just a toothpick.

Ringing pleads of countless children come my way as I communicate with them for the last time. For each one, I offer an apology and instruction on how to move past the living habitat that builds for them or just plain…vain wishes. As a father, I haven’t been.

“Well, as a former friend, I should give you last words. Then the blade shall give you a painless death.” Camael asks for my words.

There must be a use for that the damned authority of fallen sepharim of pride. If I can’t invert the present then at least just a glimpse of hope. Those green eyes of mine lit up in the golden color.

“If there is an afterlife, please don’t make me a father,” I say with a smile.

With those words said, I feel my head being thrown off the cloud, into the ground as the blood pouring out at the last of my sensation disappears. Having the last liberty of consciousness I look up at the sky. Have I done enough, my children?

Please forgive this father for leaving you in this mess

The end

Can one trust other than one’s self? The question remains

Trusting is a flimsy thing that requires both shared memories

Giving the trust wrong one and they will betray us for their gains

The second tragedy tackles the conundrum of whether one can pass their sensories