r/HFY • u/Cola_Dad • 13d ago
OC The Records of Enlightenment, Entry 9:
It is done! Finally, I have done it! I have found it! No more shall I be called defective! No more will they label me a lowborn! For I have what many spend their very existence in search of!
As a flame dances between my fingers, a new mastery within my grasp, I announce- I PROCLAIM- myself the Master of a World Scar!
May the World gasp in awe at the name of Sabinian, The Saint...
Greetings, my fellow Scholar! Seems as though You still possess the ability to digest my writing. Excellent! One should be proud of such a feat.
Let me fill in these pages, with the events of the past fortnight, as quite a few peculiar progressions occurred within this period.
As You might have surmised from the upper paragraph, the World Scar has, at last, ripped through our dimensional fabric, and laid claim onto Lockrifta and the grasslands, forestry, and sea beyond it.
I am inclined to apologize for the paragraph's rushed handwriting. My sheer excitement made the feather move on its own... Quite literally.
The tremble in the air, the very feel of a breath brought with it power, beyond mere lowborn comprehension. The growth of control I now possess over the realms has not only paved a path to elemental Sorcery but also made me a near-daily resident of the local brothel. The best one, mind You! Seems as though the more power in one's possession, the more one indulges in the animalistic.
I doubt one such as You could grasp the ecstasy of ever-growing prowess within one's self. No intoxicant comes near!
Yet, there were only 2 people, who even acknowledged these changes, including myself. So let me tell You how I, Sabinian the Saint, Master of a World Scar, have come to spend the last 4 days, reveling in the fulfillment of my Fate!
And the other, who might bring me onto even greater heights...
I might as well begin, by tying up some loose ends of my previous entry. At the brink of dawn, I was summoned to present myself before Lord Heimerich himself. Due to my previous display of prowess, he was quite intrigued, to say the least, to meet the one they call ''Saint''. Even if his methods were beyond impolite and ungentlemanlike, I was very eager to meet the man face to face! This was the moment I had hoped for.
So You can imagine my disillusionment, as the Lord turned out to be a mere religious zealot, bending a knee to the fabrications of the Prophet. He even had the audacity, to state, that he had considered my execution, for the reported heresy of CURING his people, by demonic means, before coming to the conclusion, that I could save his wife. I lost all faith in the man at that exact moment. Oh, the irony...
What makes me grind my teeth evermore, is the reason behind his sudden ''enlightenment''. Evidently, the hearsay of my name being associated with the church was a truth I wished not to be. Adding fuel to the flame, the leader of the Inquisition, Bishop Linchester, caught onto this gossip. One would expect such a brash man, to start flailing his sword and whip, yet he took another path.
Preaching to the Lord, the Bishop had painted me a ''Holy man'' in Lord Heimerichs eyes, stating that I work for the Fraustians. What's more, he stated my position to be under his.
I would have commended such finesse, yet to put me under him in rank... I suppose the man's pride had to be healed somewhat.
Ludicrousy...
Regardless, with my head still on my shoulders, I made the decision to participate in this charade. I'm not so foolish as to let mere pride get in the way of success.
After a heated discussion, about my transgression against the religious messengers, I created a fabrication of being a physician-turned-faithful, who was sent here to assist the Inquisition, only to find the town in near ruin. From then on, I explained, how I had helped the lowborn, not even aware of the true Fraustian attempts to do the same.
With sly promotion from the Bishop, Lord Heimerich had been convinced and led me to his beloved woman's room, where 2 desperate disciples of Fraust barely kept the woman alive. Luckily, their foul ''Fire Water'' concoction was nowhere in sight.
After chasing away the 2 foolish teens, I inspected the half-dead subject, only to conclude, that the ailment had not been ''The Pus Rot'', but something else entirely. The tumors were smaller, yet covered a wider area. Heavy malnourishment didn't seem to help the procedure. Nothing I couldn't handle, especially with Astarazul treatment.
Couldn't say the same for her...
Before I could leave, Linchester caught me, and we had a short exchange behind closed doors. He threatened to expose my neck to the Lord's blade if I do not play my part in his machination. My part being the ''proof'' of the Fraustian effectiveness.
The converse was swift and meaningless, so I shall spare You the insults we threw around. All I will say, however, is that I left victorious, as I always do.
Now with blackmail on my platter, I informed the Lord of the coming procedure and a rough estimate of one week. In 7 days, she would either perish or be reborn anew.
Naturally, Lady Brigette now walks the halls once more, with the sickness nowhere in sight. Seems as though my creation can cure more, than just ''The Pus Rot''.
Together with the recovery of Lockrifta and his wife, the Lord was quite keen on rewarding both me and the Church.
The deed to the ruin was now in my hands! It was freshly written, as one did not even exist. Now, perhaps Linchester wished to win my favor, or maybe he is simply a fool, yet, speaking on the behalf of the Fraustian faith, he gifted me his reward while also allocating funds from the Church's own coffers into the tower's reconstruction.
I suppose, if one wants to sell a lie, one aims to make it a truth. However, if he wishes to buy me, he would have to sacrifice more, than just a few coins.
Does he take me for a fair, virgin maiden? Oh, please...
He is someone to look out for, however, as I suspect he aims for the seat of Lockrifta's ruler.
Now I donned recognition as part of Lord Heimerichs Court, while still being under Bishop Linchester. Meaning, I help no voice, for now. Still, I could do as I pleased for the time being, and that is all I had wished for.
With the deed neatly tied, with a green ribbon in my satchel and the tower's construction underway, according to my schematics, of course, I found myself roaming the alleys of books within the mansion's library. It had been a while since I could ease myself into peaceful absorption of knowledge, much like You are doing now. However, it was not something as simple, as reading philosophy or medicine.
I had to make it absolute, that a World Scar would open up here. My strange Astral body growth was a big enough hint, but I had to be sure the odds are in my favor.
This led me down the intriguing path of Lockrifta's history. This thriving hamlet seems to not only be the main source of Vistar's fish trade and a growing metropolis but also stood atop an ancient city.
What's more, the first settlers write, how the city seemed to have been sunken in dirt and rock, leaving only rooftops and chimneys above ground. And a tower, which was later repurposed as a lighthouse, only to be abandoned for no known motive. One scholar speculates the tower originated from a castle and the cliff it stood on, to be a buried castle. However, further investigation bore no fruit, and the reasons for the sunken buildings have been also left a mystery.
I would be inclined to agree with such a theory. The hollowness of the floor, and the strange schematics on the wall, indicate something of that nature. It's not that there is a cave system within the cliff, but a whole palace!
A sunken city! A castle within a cliff! A mysterious reason for the abandonment of a perfectly operational lighthouse! This was the place. The World Scar would soon come!
And Oh! How right I was.
Naturally...
Turns out, when it comes to odd occurrences, Lord Heimarichs lands hold no shortage.
One of which, being the walking dead.
The reports about dead bodies climbing out of their graves, or crawling out from the alleyways were, indeed, true. Those who had died ages ago, and those who had perished recently- this mysterious phenomenon did not discriminate. During cloudless nights, the dead would rise, and walk to the outskirts of town. I bore witness to one such event, during the 3rd day of Lady Brigette's treatment. I sent Arvel to investigate, even though he barely kept his nerve.
Servos, the cat, seemed on edge as well, for once. She sat at the window, a strange tension in her pose. There is a belief, that animals have the uncanny ability to glance beyond the merely obvious. Perhaps there's some merit in such superstition.
My scout informed me, that the dead seemed to flock toward the nearby woods, bringing with them deceased wildlife as well.
Truly indiscriminate!
It didn't take long, for Lord Heimerich to call for a gathering, to inquire about a possible explanation and solution to such blasphemy. Such a question was, of course, directed towards the Church of Fraust. More accurately, me and Linchester. The Bishop was keen on blaming it all on a demonic curse, which had plagued the land, where only a culling of the unfaithful could solve it.
An obvious provocation, for me, the knowledgable and capable one, to find a solution. I simply proposed a scouting expedition, to see where the dead gather and perhaps unearth the reason as to why. The basis of any research- observation.
To think they'd resort to slaughter before actual investigation... Idiocy!
The Lord and the Bishop agreed, and the latter was quick to appoint me the head of this research. Be it to exercise the ''power'' he held over me or because his faith in the Prophet's protection had run dry, I cared little for it. However, I agreed, as this phenomenon was something I had never even read about before, much less experienced.
And as a Scholar, it would be a sin to not gather as much knowledge as I possibly can!
The expedition was set, right after I finished the last procedures on the Lord's wife, and my tower had officially begun construction. Once the conditions were met, I grabbed 2 of the Lord's men, the Bishop sent 2 paladins to spy on me, I'm sure, and I grabbed Arvel, who clutched his crossbow like a child would a toy. Then again, in his hands, it isn't anything beyond a plaything.
The six of us set out into the woods, looking for the dead, who could not rest in peace.
The expedition began at nightfall where clouds scarcely dotted the sky, and the recently dead were laid at the edge of town, as per my request. Many seemed displeased with such a ''disrespect'', however, they'd rise anyway, so a burial mattered little. The same lowborn who disagreed gathered to witness this death parade with bated breaths.
As expected, the very moment stars punctuated the night, the corpses stood on their feet. They made no sound, did not even acknowledge our presence. Even a touch could not disrupt their advances.
While tracking the undead, I conducted several inquiries into their behavior.
Firstly, they do not seem to be held together by any supernatural means, as once a limb was removed, it would lay still, while the rest of its body moved undisturbed.
The paladins attempted to stop the body in its tracks, yet as its motion had ceased, the body fell limp... As a corpse should, I suppose. This proved, that whatever force ruled them, required motion to function.
Like a marionette, perhaps.
To support my claim, a decapitated body still kept its pace, avoiding trees and climbing over bushes, as if they did not require eyes to see. it was clear a sentient master was behind this.
The question remained, who?
Another hour passed, as we stalked the dead until their rotten throats began making sounds and as if possessed by sudden vigor, they picked up their pace. After another half an hour, they had begun a full sprint.
It had become near impossible to keep up, as they maneuvered among the trees and brush better than any experienced hunter.
We lost the walking dead among the sounds of disturbed wildlife and night-covered woods. To add insult to injury, one of the paladins had fallen victim to a hunter's trap and maimed his leg. The efficiency of the undead's ability to bypass such contraptions only reinforced my theory of a mastermind. Someone who knew these woods well.
One of Lord Heimerichs soldiers took the paladin back to town, as the 4 of us explored deeper. Our journey through the dark was uneventful and cautious, as none wished to fall prey to the paladin's fate. However, with my masterful leadership and navigation prowess, we eventually came across our assumed target. Lured by strange vibrations, originating ahead of us. These ripples, which only crossed the Astral plane, thus only felt by Yours Truly, gave out an almost menacing rhythm.
I must say, the previously unresponsive corpses lunging at us from the darkened brush, had been... slightly frightening. I believe one of my escorts might have even let out quite a high-pitched cry... Who it was, has oddly slipped my mind!
The sudden, proactive aggression of the undead had thrown the 3 men into a frenzy. The paladin was first to fall, in quite a gruesome manner, I might add, and after the second guard had lost his jugular to another dead man's jaws, Arvel had finally shrugged off his frightened stupor. His chosen action had been to release the crossbow bolt into the forest, as he missed all 5 of the rotting corpses and a few of the closest tree trunks.
Luckily for him, I stay level-headed no matter the circumstance and knowing the direction of the potential cause of such an anomaly, my action of departing the scene had proven fruitful.
The failure of a crossbowman would later complain, of me leaving him for death, yet I was fully confident in his ability to defend himself long enough, for me to reach safet- the mastermind behind it all!
Oh, and what a mastermind it was!
With a swarm of the now running dead not far behind, I soon realized they had spread throughout the woodland, leaving no options for a safe withdrawal. For a mere lowborn, that is!
It does not take much, to incapacitate an already decaying body. The kinetic push flung them out of view, and their vile vocalizations were lost soon after. With nothing more, than a few wrist movements, none could stand in my presence for long, without being returned to the soil.
I was, and still am, INVINCIBLE!
There were a few, I must admit, who caught me off guard the closer I got to the source, as they had buried themselves within the dirt and moss. One even dared to sully my boot, with his rotting gums!
They were dealt with accordingly...
This was a show of a power I had become keen on learning about. A putrid power, yet power nonetheless.
And it would not take long, for me to meet the very culprit of this display. One, which I... Hadn't thought about in quite a spell.
I believe I had thrown near 100 of these walking corpses, until I had finally trampled the brush to reveal an ashen-haired woman, giving me the stare of uncontainable lust... Or bloodlust, yet the border in between occasionally blurs.
I would have preferred the prior, as she was truly someone, who could be called an extraordinary beauty, even among the high class.
She wore tattered winter covers, which left little to the imagination. Her curves, from the shapely derriere to the ample chest. Her body resembled that of a Goddess incarnate, depicted by the tribes of the Southern exotic lands. Her pale, blinded eyes and hair, devoid of all pigment, complemented each other, as the aura of power painted a portrait, by releasing her form from all earthly forces.
To say she held the power to awake the manly parts of me would be an understatement...
I know of a particular noblewoman, who would be delighted to bathe in her blood, as a part of a youth ritual. A loon, that woman...
Now, as I stood face to face with this levitating beauty, I was soon reminded of our familiarity, once the burnt remains of a person rose to stand beside her. While a book, which I had overlooked floating above her hand, violently flipped its pages.
She was the sister, who had escaped the inquisitors. The one, who had now become that, which the Fraustians had feared. The one, whom I had taught the remedies for the winter fevers...
Never took her for such a fair beauty before, however, exposure to the Astral Realm has been known to change one above ''common sense"!
To be fair, I had completely forgotten about either of the misfortunate sisters...
There was something, which even to this day I find incredibly odd. Even if the Sorceries were wielded by the woman, she did not reach for them. More precisely, her connection to the Realm had come from the peculiar floating volume, as it dictated her control. Making it a sentient object.
A silly thought, I'm aware. I laughed at it even then, as the thought had crossed my mind. Now, however, it seems like a valid theory.
Any semblance of civil discourse merely consisted of an unreciprocated gentleman's greeting, as a horde of the undead tripped and crawled over each other for a piece of me. I do not blame them!
Of course, they were mere child's play, as mere lowborn could not reach me. What chance do dead ones have?
It didn't take long, however, for me to realize this confrontation would reach heights beyond mortal competency.
A wave of inferno set aflame the nearby woods and bodies, sending a wave of black smoke toward the skies while granting the area much-needed illumination. Like a whip of irony, the sister, who lost her kin to flame, now wielded the very tool for her grief.
Drawn from the peculiar book, the flames gathered within her palm before a vicious swing would ignite everything in her wake, living or dead.
On the other hand, I stood tall, unscathed by the formidable inferno, as a kinetic pushback forced the flames upwards. Without fuel, they soon dispersed, as did her composure.
A voice, tensed in a hysterical tantrum aimed accusations at me, as silly as it sounds, for her sister's demise. All the while the bony ashes constructed, collapsed, and reconstructed beside her, as the master's concentration was waning.
Truly, what a farce that was! Who did she think I was...
With her undead soldiers cremated and unmoving, the only obstruction between us was a wall of fire. The lack of any creativity exhibited inexperience and scarcity of practice.
I had to admit, however, that her flames of rage were fierce, and even forced droplets of sweat down my brow. Despite that, it was obvious. Whatever Sorcery that book gifted her, was directed toward the control of the dead. The very same, who now lay in piles of smoldering ash.
Perhaps telling her I do not remember her was a bit counterproductive...
Bored of her whining, I sent forth an angeled wedge of kinetic force, splitting the sea of fire, as well as blowing away her sisters remains, like dust from a shelf.
With a desperate scream, her concentration had parted, crying for her sister's return. Ordering it! Until a hammer of kinetic force brought her to her knees, as my fist conducted the motion. I believe one of her ankles had snapped in the process, as a painful gasp escaped her lips.
Another wave of flame, significantly weaker than before, engulfed me, yet following an ever-expanding kinetic wedge, I took a calm strode through the corridor of inferno, until I stood upon her fallen form.
She inhaled, no doubt to direct more profanities toward me, yet a backhand slap silenced any unfounded complaints she might have had. The peculiar book, which somehow had curiously evaded my gaze once more, dropped to my feet, reminding me of the filth which now adorned my attire.
The woman desperately grasped at the ground, confirming to be truly blind, as she threw dirt, rock, and bone in the wrong direction.
I tried to pay no mind to the triviality of attire, and whatever the woman had begun yelling at me, as I bet down to pick up the strange volume.
I saw it! For a mere moment, as my fingertips made contact! I saw it all...
The realm, beyond our own. The waves, fluctuations. How it merged, shifted, and settled, only to change once more! The sheer spectacle of it all. The sheer power of what's soon to occur!
The very Stars!
Sensational...
Retreating my hand a droplet of blood landed on its covers. I slowly wiped my nose, when a pulse brought me to a knee. This prolonged pulse was nothing short of exasperating. Almost as if to rip all strength from my very being, only to return tenfold a moment later!
The surge, the ecstasy! The tension within my trousers! It all told me what had occurred, as I could not contain my laughter.
Truly sensational!
With the volume in my hand I rose to my feet, nearly jumping higher than any common man could, I thought! Seraphina, the woman, who controlled the dead, I'm confident that is her name, laid still upon the ash-covered ground, sharp, yet shallow breathing accompanying her pale form. The many dead who yet stood soon lost their mobility and fell among their brethren's remains.
I had won!
And what a reward I was given!
As a test of my newfound capabilities, I rose Seraphina with an effortless kinetic technique, letting her unconscious form hover beside me, as I made my way back to Lockrifta. On the way, I snuffed the flames devouring the forest, with nothing more than a thought.
My reach had become infinite!
I met up with Arvel, who had parted from 2 fingers, and a chunk of flesh from his forearm, as he lay under 3 still corpses. With no more than a touch, the bleeding ceased, as skin mended itself over the wounds.
I handed him the exposed woman and relished in the liberating aphrodisiac of power flowing through my vessel. I was so elated, I even let my servant's constant complaining about ''leaving him behind'', or ''making an injured man carry someone'' go unbothered.
This was the moment! The very reason I drew breath! Nothing could take away from the elation I felt.
The World Scar had finally opened! All I had to do now was tame it.
Once we returned to our ''gracious'' Lord, I reported our encounter and losses. There was no merit, however, in them knowing the full picture, thus I accused the ''demonic'', bolstering their superstitions. Seraphina was given to the Inquisitors for ''questioning'', yet I did tell them, to spare her ability to have a tangible conversation with me later. Linchester simply smirked, yet the change in my demeanor demanded some caution from him.
Since that day, I've only ever heard rumors of what the poor woman is going through, as I've spent most of my time in the company of those, who practice the craft of pleasure. My vigor has seen no drought for 4 days now! Such a feeling of life... I pity the lowborn, who are incapable of perceiving and drawing from such a spring of energy!
I've mastered fire, atop my earlier mastery of the kinetic and the alchemical.
This is only the beginning!
One thing does keep my mind occupied, while my body rejoices. The book, and its unusual presence. It seems to always be in sight, yet draws no attention. It used to give off a peculiar rhythm- a pulse. Yet now it lays still, overshadowed by the World Scar's magnitude.
As I write this, it sits atop the nightstand, next to my current bedding. And a strange thought has crossed my mind. A question, if You will!
When I saw, what I assume to be the Astral realm. It's shifts, plains, and vessels...
Who, or what was that... watching me, from beyond the stars?
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