Author's Note (Malaney Belrue)

AUTHOR’S NOTE

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE WHOLE STORY THROUGH OF MALANEY BELRUE, BE WARNED THAT THIS IS A MEANS TO EXPLAIN WHY THE STORY ENDED AS IT DID.

To those who’ve read the whole story through, THANK YOU! This was a fun campaign to recap, and sadly it had to come to an end in a rather unexpected way. This note is to help illustrate what can’t be gathered from Malaney’s perspective. But before I relay that, I will speak of the abrupt end.

As with anything long term, life happens and plans change. The group I had been playing with ran into a rather large hiccup as a friend’s health insisted upon them taking time away from game. With that, we didn’t want to exclude them by finding someone new to fill their role, nor did we want to try and fudge explaining how the new character was suddenly the Primordial we all have been adventuring with all along.

When this happened, we had just reached the monastery, which provided an opportunity to create filler. We had anticipated that it would only be 2-3 sessions worth of filler, but it quickly began to get muddled. For me, it was an opportunity to fill in a lot of story fluff that would explain the changes Malaney goes through; to get her to be someone who would fight.

See, when I first created the Bard, it was because she and Kimaris were meant to fall in love. I and my friend wanted to roleplay a genuine romance and so Malaney was the likely candidate. I knew her well and had her backstory concrete. What I failed to anticipate was how she would act in a fight. So when it came, it was glaringly obvious that the qualities and characteristics I knew her to be would not, could not, be willed to harm another. The act of violence was her bane.

The monastery was exactly what Malaney needed. It provided a place for her to train. Not only train, but to be rescued, in essence, by a past manifestation as the pressure of performing weighed upon her shoulders. This break from the actual storyline gave me the chance to figure out how Malaney would find her courage.

So that was the gameplan while our friend got better; whip our characters into shape. However the overall atmosphere in game had shifted. The interest level and engagement that once was, vanished and punctuality became less of a priority. It was frustrating, to say the least, with all the work I had invested into the story of my character, to watch the campaign slowly crumble apart. And I mean SLOWLY!! Starting back in April.

We had played earlier this week (the date I typed this being 5/24/2016) and when the session ended, I made the decision to conclude Malaney’s journal. There were various factors that had lead to this. I exercised patience and communication with players and the DM to little avail. And so it seemed silly for me to keep putting in such an effort when there seemed to be no reward for the attempts made to keep things afloat.

THE FINAL CHAPTER: This was an inspired ending when the player, who played Bordel, and I discussed the budding romance between our two characters. I commented on how his character’s name and personality was practically identical to the character I had created for Malaney’s future daughter. I then joked about what the Bard was experiencing was almost foreshadowing of what her daughter would experience. Then, without missing a beat, he replied that since Bordel was the Primordial of Time, it wouldn’t be too farfetched if he sent her back in time. He would also go find Achmath and tell him to go get Malaney, that she needs him.

The Cleric had already used his Primordial abilities when we had to switch Oda and Fernwood out with new players. It was established that he was able to go back far enough to make sure the Primordial spirit entered into that of a different person and therefore making it so that the new characters had been Primordials all along (yeah, a bit of a stretch and hence our added hesitance about finding a new player to fill the vacant role). With that power established, it seemed legit he’d do something similar to Malaney, for Bordel would rather keep her safe than to be hunted down and killed. But by so doing, she wouldn’t remember him.

I hadn’t intended to use that idea for this campaign. I had visions that the end would include Kimaris’s return, their relationship developing further, collecting the cups, saving the world, and living happily ever after. Instead, the story died and I took the day they fled the monastery as the point of inspiration to working in the drastic end. The abruptness also was an attempt to show that life changes rather quickly and unexpectedly. One moment things are fine and dandy, the next moment, the world’s turned upside down. 

So rather than making it to the city beyond the portal, Bordel sends her back to the start of the caravan that took her to Asura. Now the question lies, will Achmath be able to catch up in time?

7/5/2997: Heading to Asura

Previous Entry

Ojtejk La'Aj ab Soqojnis, 2997

Is it strange to write about a dream as the first entry in a journal? I had gotten this to help myself work through Araja’s death, but a strange vision, that I can feel fading quickly, happened.

I had woken in the dark on a cot of sorts. The smell of smoke filled my nose and I heard the sound that a sword makes when it is unsheathed.

“Miss Malaney!” a creature cried. I looked up and saw a man- or woman, dressed in dark robes, bringing their sword up high. A silver streak crossed in front of me as the blade came down. I had barely dodged out of the way, but remember seeing a faerie dragon, halved, on my bed as I fled. It made the most gut wrenching feeling seeing the creature dead, knowing it had sacrificed itself for me. Why had it done that?

The person suddenly blocked the door to the room I was in, to which I sent a pulse of energy toward them. Honestly, it was a rather strange sensation. The magic felt like I was trying to put the person to sleep. I don’t know where that idea came from.

I made it past my attacker and into a corridor lined with doors. I met others who had a familiarity about them, but why I can’t say. There were three men, two tall, and one a little shorter than me. One was a Shifter, with tufts of orange hair sticking about wildly. Another was a much older man with a bald head and a very prominent mustache. The third was more scrawny and wore a vibrant, yellow coat. Then there was a young girl, who was literally the embodiment of the universe.

We all rushed out to a courtyard where the real fight was taking place. Skeleton hounds and more robed figures fought against many monks. I was ready to fight- everything within me was ready to fight, but someone whisked us away. “They have come for you!” the voice said, “The Order will kill you if you get involved!”

The person brought the five of us to a balcony that overlooked the mountain range. The sun was still hidden behind a peak, but the orange colors that painted the sky signified the new day. The beauty of the elevation was breathtaking, but I didn’t get long to linger. Whoever had guided us there pointed over the edge. A translucent vortex shimmered. It was a portal and we were instructed to jump. We were then left alone as the cries of battle echoed about us.

I watched as the girl, the Shifter, and the young man jump. They quickly vanished into the portal. I remember hesitating, looking back at the monks. They felt like family, or perhaps I felt guilty I wasn’t helping them. I then remembered the dragon and mourned as everything began to weigh upon me. It was as though all that was going on was connected back to me. My very existence had caused the strife.

The man, who remained, grabbed my shoulders. “Malaney,” he said, though I can’t remember who he was, “Everything will be okay.”

I shook my head, hot tears poured down my cheeks, and I replied, “How can it be okay when we can’t protect those who fight for us? Why can’t we protect them!?” I sobbed. The man took hold of my hands and after a long moment, with sorrowful eyes, said, “I can promise you, that you will be alright.”

He then lead me to the edge of the balcony and before jumping he added, “I’ll never forget you.”

As I leaped toward the vortex, I opened my arms, which turned out to be wings, and began to glide down to whatever laid unknown behind the portal.

Then there was a great flash of light and my eyes fluttered open. I looked about at all the heads in the circle, Rueben, my boss, was already awake and preparing food for the caravan (we are three days out of Lythmeir and have quite the journey ahead of us). With it still being rather early, I quietly stole away to get my thoughts down for there was a feeling as though I was- well, still am- forgetting something. I mean, it's like going to fetch an item you know should be where you think it is. Infact, you know the item is there because you put it there yourself, only when you go to the place, the item is nowhere in sight. I have searched my mind relentlessly trying to remember what it was I've forgotten. The dream feels like it holds answers or perhaps the vividness of it is what I'm latching onto, hoping it'll remind me of what I can't remember. It's all rather maddening.
The most I can dissect of the dream is that it played on how helpless I feel towards Araja’s death. Why wasn’t I able to save her? Why was there nothing anyone could do for her?

As I think about it, the final words that man said are very much how I feel about Araja. Wherever she might be now, I will never forget her. No matter the adventure ahead, she’s forever branded on my heart.

Anyways, I must get back to the group. Like I mentioned, we have quite a journey ahead of us. We're heading to the capital Asura, about 3 continents away. Here's hoping a fresh start can be had there. Perhaps I'll even find a set of bag pipes. I have a sudden interest in learning that instrument.

The End

Author's Note

9/33/2997: My Chance to See Araja Again

Previous Entry

Kæjk La’Sux ab Jujnis, 2997

Last night’s dream was vivid once more. I had barely finished talking with Kimaris when I woke up to a scene that was vastly different from anything I would have expected. I was in a crowd of folk, all looking to their King, who was Kimaris. I, too, was dressed for the fight, which funny enough I was half anticipating. Either the training really is sinking in and I’ll no longer fear a fight or I was truly swept up in the dream.

Kimaris, or King Buru as the the folk referred to him as, was addressing the assembly, preparing them for the battle ahead, instilling courage and trust with every word he spoke. I think that was why I didn’t dread what was approaching..

In the midst of listening and looking on, impressed by his grace and authority, I felt someone tug at my sleeve. My eyes met Kimaris’s stand in, Destiny. She looked very much like a Princess. “Are you ready?” she asked me. I nodded and returned my gaze to our King.

The Primordial then locked eyes with mine, somehow spotting me out in the crowd. He smiled and filled the air with his rich voice as he turned and instructed everyone to attack on the count of three. I gripped my Lyro Blade firmly and began to sprint ahead with the army as three rang out through the air.

One moment the thunder of feet and the shifting of armor filled my ears, but somehow it altered to where I found myself running down a stone corridor. I stopped in my confusion and looked about the dimly lit place. Then an arm brushed against mine and I whipped around to find myself alone with Kimaris. He smiled warmly and spoke something about the war, saying along the lines of, “we should have killed them all right then and there.” He summoned a weapon to his hands and then looked at me, boldly asking, “Are you afraid to die?”

I’m surprised I didn’t fear him. He had just conjured a weapon in hand and want to know if I was afraid! Instead I contemplated and replied, "In a way, yes. Very much. Yet... I know where I'm going after this. I am Balance and therefore know this moment in mortal flesh is temporary. In a way, I’m never going to die. But the pain that comes with it must be what I fear." There was such a calm too. In a way it felt almost like a lie saying that there was some fear.

Kimaris held his gaze firm upon me, an endearing look resting upon his countenance. He sheathed the sword and with one hand resting on the hilt, he used the other to cup my face. “Don’t fear for I will let none harm you.”

The dream then took another sudden turn as Kim informed me that I could visit any memory of my own while in his realm. I thought about visiting my father, but if it was a memory I knew, it wouldn’t reveal anything about whether he was or wasn’t my father. My heart then longed to see Araja and Sorin.

I took Kimaris to the backyard of the Thompson’s home where I use to live before getting caught up with the cups and being a Primordial. It was late evening the night before Araja died. The day was warm, the heat still lingering in the air. My eyes locked on the vision of the two children. They both spotted me and ran, the girl crying, “Malaney!” and her brother, “Ney ney!”

My knees fell to the ground to envelope them into a big hug. The tears poured, Araja questioning them. The love I had- still have- for those kids was overpowering. I had almost forgotten that Kimaris was there. It was Sorin’s look of curiosity that reminded me of my companion.

"You see that man there Sorin?" the boy nodded, "That's my friend."

Kimaris came over and and charmingly greeted the children. The toddler buried his head into my shoulder while Araja stated, “I’m not a lady!” I gave a warning glancing suggesting she was treading on rudeness. “Well... yet,” she added more politely.

In a tone that was gentle, Kim knelt down to her level and replied, “A gentleman should always respect a lady, no matter her age or position." He then flashed his obsidian eyes at me and I remember this great sense of love just emanate through my limbs. It was like seeing a vision of Achmath in a new form before me.

"Are you a Prince?" Araja began to pester.

“A King actually,” I answered for him, “But it is time for you and Sorin to go get ready for dinner.” The little girl gave her best curtsy to Kimaris, bringing up the edges of her dusty dress and crossing her foot back before wobbily lowering herself. She then jumped back on her feet and instructed Sorin to say his goodbyes.

It was hard to watch the two wander back into the house. After some deep breaths, and knowing my companion was waiting to know what the significance of the memory was, I said, "I was there nanny for a few years. Three months ago I had to say good bye."

Kimaris gently placed an arm around me, pulling me into him. I felt stiff and my mind was muddled as Araja and Sorin were replaced by thoughts of how close I was to the Primordial. He mentioned how I was welcome to visit my memories as often as I’d like. I scoffed, stating that that wouldn’t do me well. If allowed, I’d stay frozen in time with Araja.

And just like that, a could wind swept through turning the warm colors into a dreary waste. My heart pounded as I knew what was coming. I don’t understand why I knew it nor why I couldn’t stop it, but as Araja’s death weighed upon my mind, the scene we were in cracked and fell away like broken glass, leaving the two of us in the dim hallway of Araja’s home. I could feel my companion pull me into a hug, my face resting on his chest.

One eye remained fixed upon the image of Sorin standing in the sunlight that pour from Araja’s room. The cry then came, “Malaney! Get help! Araja’s not breathing!” Soon a memory of myself rushed past me and Kimaris, freezing at the sight of Sorin and quickly redirecting him into his room. She then called over her shoulder that Achmath was getting help. Soon Sorin’s door closed and the memory faded to black.

I apologized to Kimaris. I hadn’t meant for anyone to know of that memory and there it was. He saw why I wanted to see Araja again. He continued to hold me, wiping away the tears and asking, “Do you blame yourself?” It was so strange to hear. Of course I don’t blame myself... it just seems unfair that my little friend died without reason.

A finger worked under my chin and tilted my head up right. I described his eyes as obsidian, but really, it was like the universe was gathered together in them. Though his skin was darker than my own, his black eyes stood out because of the flecks of light that flitted about.

He then said, “You don’t have to be sad or alone any more Malaney. I’m here for you.” Kimaris then placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

Part of me hated how much I wanted him. How I loved his care and the way it filled the void that I pretended didn’t exist in me. There was a completeness as I mourned, as though Kimaris was holding me together. Why couldn’t I hold myself together?

Words failed me as to how to thank him. So I reached up and kissed him. I had meant for it to only be a peck, but Kim returned with a kiss of his own.

Who knows how long it lasted, but Kim, in time, leaned his forehead against mine and whispered,  “I have waited for that kiss for five lifetimes.” He couldn’t explain why, but ever since we were created, he had waited for me. If that is the truth, I don’t understand how I didn’t see it sooner. How did I not know the depth of his love all this time? Or is there something the vale of mortality has let me forget? Either way, Kimaris has to be the most patient being I know.

“I wish I had known sooner,” I mentioned, as thought I owed him an apology.

“No,” he said, giving me another quick kiss, “this moment has made it all worth it. You’ve made it all worth it. I watched you suffer for so long, and now I have the chance to help make it a little easier.”

The scenery then shifted once more in the euphoria we felt. I smiled brighter as I realized the place. It was mine and Achmath’s meadow.

“Well isn’t this lovely,” Kimaris noted. We ended up laying in the grass and suddenly the weight of sleep was upon me. My head rested on Kimaris as the will to keep awake became harder to resist. But in those moments before falling asleep, I listened to the sound of Kimaris breathing, the birds singing, the river in the distance, and the rustle of leaves. 

Then, almost as though it wasn’t me speaking, I heard myself saying, “I love you,” waking to the words dancing off my tongue. I looked about my room, Bubblesnort curled up at the foot of the bed. I threw my head back on my pillow, frustrated by the illusion of reality I had just endured. I mean, it was pleasant. I wish the dream hadn’t ended. But that’s what I hate most about it. It’s all wishful thoughts my subconscious is putting together. I just wish they didn’t feel so real...

Any how, the gong has wrung. 'Tis time for another day of training. The soreness I use to feel has long since passed. I take it to heart as a sign of my improvements as my strength and stamina show greater endurance as Ahmiaus continues to increase the difficulty of my training.

I also feel I should note that I have an unsettled feeling about me. These past few weeks... they've been too structured, too predictable. Just the other night when I was playing music, this feeling crept in as I thought to myself, it's been unusually peaceful. Perhaps I'm just sabotaging myself, but it feels as though something bad is about to happen. If only I could shake the thought from my mind.
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