Rebirth
A shorter entry tonight. My next entry shall discuss what I did following my rebirth and how I came to the Shattered Realm.
So there I was, trekking across the frozen plains, each day trying to catch the setting sun. As the first hints of dusk issued forth one particular day, I started settling in for the night in a newly-vacant yurt, and a rare figure appeared in the camp. The Master had found me, wondering what had happened. We spoke for some time, and at the end he stated his plan. Since his rebirth he had not been touched by sorrow or trouble until our connection had been severed, and now that he had been he was moved to pity and mercy. I would die, but he would take my spirit to his world and remake me, and I would know the glory I was due. I was too weary to feel like I had succeeded, but there it was. I nodded and raised my battered sword.
"If I am to die, I would fall to something stronger than myself. Let me die by your hand."
"So be it."
And with that, I was engulfed in magical flame. I was dead before I could feel any pain. And so I died, on February 19th, 254 years after my birth.
What happened next wasn't clear to me, and I was left with only the vaguest of memories. When I was fully conscious I was standing upon a grassy hill under a bizarrely-empty night sky. Behind me was an altar and behind that a rocky, tumultuous shore. I recognized where I was even though I had never seen that place before. The Master spoke to me and said that I had been reborn, and I began to take stock of myself as the Master described what he had done. Gods apparently are of dramatic bent, for he created my body not by just willing it to be, but instead by gathering up the stars and the void in-between. My spirit, too, had been re-shaped and now somehow consisted of such stuff. Also, I was no longer an elf. Well, I no longer had pointy ears, at least. I was still a mortal, still flesh-and-blood (celestial flesh and blood, I suppose), but I began to notice something else... I'll get to that in a moment. It might be worth noting that despite the strangeness of my composition, it was actually rather fitting. My people had considered themselves children of the stars, and the night sky was central to many of our legends. Furthermore, I had always had a special love for the night sky - I found it too beautiful to ever be afraid of the night. Finally, the magic I practiced in life was of celestial nature, and I specialized in rituals of the sky - magical horoscopes, celestial empowerments, and so on. Many times I had raked the sand in the place I adventured most often, drawing star charts and tracking the heavenly movements upon it. My new form looked identical to my old one, but it felt so, so better-fitting.
The Master then described how my spirit had been lightened and my earlier fates rewoven. I was now the man I had wanted to be, rather than the man circumstances had forced me to be. I wondered what that meant, but I quickly began to realize that my nature had indeed changed. It's difficult to sum up, but essentially the "grey" me that I had tried to reject was no longer a part of me. I still understood pragmatism and compromise, and I still believed that sometimes the ends did justify the means, but my "starting point" had changed - growing in virtue would now be about improving myself, not about overcoming my natural tendencies. Ever since then I've recognized that though I will sometimes stray from the virtuous path I will never depart it, and if I stray I will do so only out of sacrifice - I will burden myself so that others need not.
As I began understanding this more of my new nature came to light. "You may now wield the power you earned in life," the Master intoned, and I began to feel the magics of purity and focus, and of oaths and purpose, in a far more direct way than ever before. Such things had been incredibly important in my previous life, but they were simply concepts and their power had been subtle, but now I could wield these things directly. Before I could dwell on this, however, I felt an incredible rush of power. The Master spoke again, saying "I owe you not just my life but also my legacy. For those alone I could never repay you, but I am also in your debt for all that I shall ever do. Every aspect of this world's existence is due to you. In this place you will wield whatever power you wish, to any degree you wish, and you will be second only to me." And so I was granted limitless power. I might call it magic, but it was more than that - I was able to directly manipulate the world around me as easily as I might look at something.
This was deeply, deeply inappropriate.
So there I was, reborn, a mortal still but only in a loose sense of the term. My plans had succeeded in every way. So, let's take stock. I was made out of the night sky, I was morally, emotionally, and mentally the man I wished I could be, I had power beyond belief... oh, and there was something else. All my memories had been diminished. I remembered everything, but it was all like a remembered dream. The emotional weight of those memories, the memories' emotional anchors, had been cut, and I simply couldn't be troubled by all my distressing memories. I was certainly quite happy, but not all was well.
~A
So there I was, trekking across the frozen plains, each day trying to catch the setting sun. As the first hints of dusk issued forth one particular day, I started settling in for the night in a newly-vacant yurt, and a rare figure appeared in the camp. The Master had found me, wondering what had happened. We spoke for some time, and at the end he stated his plan. Since his rebirth he had not been touched by sorrow or trouble until our connection had been severed, and now that he had been he was moved to pity and mercy. I would die, but he would take my spirit to his world and remake me, and I would know the glory I was due. I was too weary to feel like I had succeeded, but there it was. I nodded and raised my battered sword.
"If I am to die, I would fall to something stronger than myself. Let me die by your hand."
"So be it."
And with that, I was engulfed in magical flame. I was dead before I could feel any pain. And so I died, on February 19th, 254 years after my birth.
What happened next wasn't clear to me, and I was left with only the vaguest of memories. When I was fully conscious I was standing upon a grassy hill under a bizarrely-empty night sky. Behind me was an altar and behind that a rocky, tumultuous shore. I recognized where I was even though I had never seen that place before. The Master spoke to me and said that I had been reborn, and I began to take stock of myself as the Master described what he had done. Gods apparently are of dramatic bent, for he created my body not by just willing it to be, but instead by gathering up the stars and the void in-between. My spirit, too, had been re-shaped and now somehow consisted of such stuff. Also, I was no longer an elf. Well, I no longer had pointy ears, at least. I was still a mortal, still flesh-and-blood (celestial flesh and blood, I suppose), but I began to notice something else... I'll get to that in a moment. It might be worth noting that despite the strangeness of my composition, it was actually rather fitting. My people had considered themselves children of the stars, and the night sky was central to many of our legends. Furthermore, I had always had a special love for the night sky - I found it too beautiful to ever be afraid of the night. Finally, the magic I practiced in life was of celestial nature, and I specialized in rituals of the sky - magical horoscopes, celestial empowerments, and so on. Many times I had raked the sand in the place I adventured most often, drawing star charts and tracking the heavenly movements upon it. My new form looked identical to my old one, but it felt so, so better-fitting.
The Master then described how my spirit had been lightened and my earlier fates rewoven. I was now the man I had wanted to be, rather than the man circumstances had forced me to be. I wondered what that meant, but I quickly began to realize that my nature had indeed changed. It's difficult to sum up, but essentially the "grey" me that I had tried to reject was no longer a part of me. I still understood pragmatism and compromise, and I still believed that sometimes the ends did justify the means, but my "starting point" had changed - growing in virtue would now be about improving myself, not about overcoming my natural tendencies. Ever since then I've recognized that though I will sometimes stray from the virtuous path I will never depart it, and if I stray I will do so only out of sacrifice - I will burden myself so that others need not.
As I began understanding this more of my new nature came to light. "You may now wield the power you earned in life," the Master intoned, and I began to feel the magics of purity and focus, and of oaths and purpose, in a far more direct way than ever before. Such things had been incredibly important in my previous life, but they were simply concepts and their power had been subtle, but now I could wield these things directly. Before I could dwell on this, however, I felt an incredible rush of power. The Master spoke again, saying "I owe you not just my life but also my legacy. For those alone I could never repay you, but I am also in your debt for all that I shall ever do. Every aspect of this world's existence is due to you. In this place you will wield whatever power you wish, to any degree you wish, and you will be second only to me." And so I was granted limitless power. I might call it magic, but it was more than that - I was able to directly manipulate the world around me as easily as I might look at something.
This was deeply, deeply inappropriate.
So there I was, reborn, a mortal still but only in a loose sense of the term. My plans had succeeded in every way. So, let's take stock. I was made out of the night sky, I was morally, emotionally, and mentally the man I wished I could be, I had power beyond belief... oh, and there was something else. All my memories had been diminished. I remembered everything, but it was all like a remembered dream. The emotional weight of those memories, the memories' emotional anchors, had been cut, and I simply couldn't be troubled by all my distressing memories. I was certainly quite happy, but not all was well.
~A