Journal of Meridian
((OOC note: OH MY GOD WHY IS YOUR WRITING STYLE SO RIDICULOUS ENOCH. Here is my best attempt at mimicking the style of the Book of Enoch; but as if Enoch expected to show it to someone literate, meaning he wouldn't be using many of the oral-repetition mnemonic devices except for moments of ingrained habit. This style is prone to run-on sentences and not starting a new line for a new direct-quote speaker argh so frustrating.
Last update: Out of space. New journal here.))
Journal of Meridian
Day One (written on the fifth day):
Herein I shall record my experiences in the strange city of Meridian, removed from time. Though I write this on my fifth day here, I shall attempt to maintain the separation of days before this. As I have no reference of the time of day when I was in the Tower, and so no way to determine whether a discrepancy exists between it and Meridian, a "Day" here refers to the period of time before the following sunset, regardless of when I had last seen a sunset.
The first day, therefore, is hardly a day at all. I had left the large cavern where I saw Armaros's Nephilim and found myself in a much more Earthly place, the sun high in the sky but past its peak. Though it followed all the conventions of Earth, it was unlike the Earth I had last seen. There were buildings made of a solid gray substance, some with metal pipes attached to the walls and roofs. I do not think they were dwellings; something about them seemed unwelcoming and unlivable.
I made my way to one of the rooftops to survey my surroundings, and it was there that I began to find life. People walking below but out of my sight saw me leap to the roof, and there was a cat there with a cloth tied around its neck - someone must take care of it. I met a man who called himself Castle. His manner of dress was reminiscent of Lucifel's, though of a softer-seeming cloth than denim, so I think this city must be in the future. How could I have traveled through time without a single one of my guides in sight, however? Lucifel would retrieve me in an instant. It was through him that I learned the name of this city, Meridian, and that it was populated by others like me who had simply found themselves there without any warning. However, he did say that there were natives. I should look for them.
It was not long before I met another, a strange girl, perhaps a young woman, who was neither human nor angel, nor demon. She had skin the color of ashes and short horns, yellow and orange like a fire. She had strange red eyes with neither pupil nor white. She called herself a "troll". She wasn't hostile, but she was argumentative and cynical, too much so for her age.
When they had gone, I returned to the rooftop, finding my orientation from the sun and shadows. To my north and east, I saw more buildings. There seemed to be more variety in color beyond a certain point. To my south, I could see a beach. To the west, there was a large stone wall stretching very high into the air and extending north and south as far as I could see, even into the ocean.
Though I felt drawn to the water, I wished to explore the different buildings to the north, in the hopes of finding these natives that Castle spoke of, and so I set out northward. Along the way, I found a building that seemed to house a market, but there was nobody in sight. I did not want to steal, but I was hungry, and the food seemed to have been unattended all day. I took a green vegetable stalk that seemed least withered, but when it passed my lips I tasted some sort of nut. I didn't recognize it, but I can't take food for granted. It was filled with water, so despite the strange taste, I found it refreshing.
The buildings north of the strange gray ones seemed more varied, a mix between homes and more housed markets. If this is the future, this is an ingenious way of storing and trading, protected from the elements and in a permanent, easily-reachable place. Food is in an unusual abundance here, but I haven't seen a single livestock animal, orchard, vineyard, or farm anywhere. In some ways, this is undeniably Earth while it is so very alien in others.
I would travel north until the day began to close.
Day Two (written on the fifth day):
Some of the sections in the city I passed through were crumbling. An air like diluted vileness hung over them, and the grass was withered and brown. Birds would fly around them, and a small creature with a large, bushy tail refused to enter one by land as I did. The third such area unnerved me and I grew afraid of its presence and wished to turn back, but I saw another person in the distance, carrying an impossibly large blade.
My curiosity overcame my fear, and I passed through it to meet him. He, too, wore clothing like Lucifel's, and he wore a strange sort of mask or covering over his eyes despite the dim light of the day's closing. We spoke, and he introduced himself as Strider. Are all names in the future so strange? He, too, had just arrived, and he proved to have a wit so strongly reminiscent of Lucifel I found myself more acutely missing his presence and his jokes. It has been countless years since I've been truly apart from him, unable to speak with him when I wished. I am lucky to have made the discovery I did the next day, or dwelling on this would have made me deeply despair. Writing these words causes me to miss him even more so.
I couldn't resist joining him in a game of humor, affected by his wit as I was. But the night would fall soon, so we exchanged information - I told him what Castle had told me, and he had a hypothesis of his own: one that involved a disturbing image of corpses brought to life. I believe he must be wrong, but the idea of it frightens me greatly. Can such a thing occur?
We parted ways after I showed him one of the abandoned markets - he wished to explore northward, while I, after what I had seen and heard, and missing my guides, longed for the comfort of the tide.
I made my way south as far as I could, back to the gray buildings, before I grew too tired to continue. I slept on the ground, with my Arch in my hand. And it is here that I break from writing to sleep, as well, for it is growing too dark to write.
Day Two, continued (written on the sixth day):
I expected to sleep lightly, but found the temperature here was not as harsh as the locations on Earth I was used to. I was not woken in a state of bitter, numb cold, but slept until sunrise, waking to cold, but not the deadly cold of the desert night. I searched this strange city even in my dreams, chasing the echoes of the chiming of Lucifel's device, but never finding their source. I remember that dream vividly, for I remember my loneliness on waking. It drove me towards the sea even more urgently, and I arrived at the beach in low tide, as the sky lightened.
I walked along the beach, taking comfort in the smell of the air and the spray the wind blew against my face, like a friend's vitalizing presence. And what an apt comparison it is, for I found a friend in the sea, of the sea. How fortunate I was to have been drawn so strongly by my dream! And how strange it is that my longing for one friend led me to find another.
As I walked, I saw the shape of a body on the beach, and I hurried towards it to see what could be done. As I drew close, I saw it was Armaros, the very same Grigori I had been on my way to fight, but I could not have fought him in the state I found him. He was absolutely emaciated, thin and starved, and his spine stood out beneath his tail. Fearing him dead or dying, I rolled him over to see his face, and I cannot describe the relief I felt when he responded to me! I knew I should not pity him, but how can I fail to pity someone in such a state, particularly one that evokes faded memories that cause such happiness in me? I don't remember our time together, but I remember Armaros, especially with reminders from Michael and Lucifel and now that the way the Freemen spoke of him has helped me remember more; their kind words sound true to my heart.
Armaros was disoriented, but recognized me and seemed aware of himself and his surroundings. I did not know he was mute at the time, and so I was worried when he did not speak. He was quick to correct me through gesture, telling me the fall had rendered him mute. He was weak and unsteady on his feet, and seemed ill, and I wished in the moments where he seemed weakest, more than I've felt since, for his comfort and safety in spite of my mission.
I took him to a store for clothing and left him to clothe himself while I searched for more food. I found the vegetable stalk was not unusual in this place, for the peach I took for myself tasted of vanilla, and the unusually well-leavened bread I found for Armaros tasted of fruit. I read the containers of food in the store, and found there to be many wonders - I do not doubt Lucifel's choice of words in calling these shards of wisdom. There was broth in a container, sealed away from animals and elements. I tasted it, and it tasted of wine on my tongue, but so much more pleasant in flavor that I had to take a second taste to be sure it was indeed what it seemed. I knew then that this city had more unusual properties than I had expected, but as my meager meal the night before had not poisoned me, I thought that these foods should be no different aside from their taste.
I returned to find Armaros in low spirits, and I realized the rooms for changing had mirrors. My poor friend had not seen his own reflection until then! I convinced him to emerge while I searched for paper he could write on, as he was unable to speak. I was more alarmed at his lack of motivation to eat, as I have seen starving men who only did not hunger because they were close to death. I could not bear to see my friend die with a broken spirit and a drained, wasted body, there are tears in my eyes at the thought alone.
Once he had eaten, he at last wrote a message to me, asking if I still saw him as a friend. If my heart was not set on setting the mission aside before then, it was completely in favor of it at that moment. Armaros truly does have a pure heart, he does not deserve this or the mission, and I am glad I learned what I did in the conversation that followed. We spoke, he in writing and I in words, and we learned that we are not from the same point in time. Though I have not yet reached him, our battle has come and gone for him, and my mission has succeeded.
He, too, is from my future, and I will not destroy or imprison him! He will be here, in Meridian, safe from the threat of my Arch, and safe too from Belial's grasp. Our fight will not end as expected, though I wouldn't dare ask Armaros for details. All that I have learned, and all that I would ask him to recall for me, is that Belial will hold him captive, and I will save him. He gave me one of the small paper cards I found for him to write on to keep, saying "my hero". It is more a treasure to me than gold, it is proof of his survival, and I will keep it in my pocket even when it has worn down to dust.
Armaros suggested we find shelter together, and I agreed, not wanting to allow his condition to worsen and feeling a strong need to be at his side while he recovered.
The houses seem abandoned in this city, and when I realized that Armaros could walk no further, I abandoned my fear of trespass as I had of theft and claimed this small house as our shelter. There were many strange things inside of it, which I investigated after seeing Armaros to bed.
The house itself has an enclosed area behind it, I thought to keep animals, but I saw no evidence that any had been kept. Inside the door is a large room with hallways to either side, and a door to the enclosure in the back on the other side. This room contained a long, soft couch before a low table, a bookcase filled with books beside a hearth that vented through the ceiling outside, and a shelf above it with several captured images in well-worked frames, so detailed it is as if one of the images Lucifel can capture with his device was transferred flawlessly to paper. These images showed a young husband and wife, likely the residents that once lived here. Their features were pale and angular like Lucifel's and Michael's, and they had no children even though they seemed to be more than twenty years of age, but each of these captured images featured at least one cat, the most numbering three. Perhaps they were unable to have children, and were caring for cats as a substitute. The cat with the cloth around its neck that I saw the day before was not one of these cats. In fact, I did not see these cats anywhere but in the images.
The hallway to the left contained a bathing room where I found the sort of running water that I had only heard Lucifel describe before. I never imagined I would see it for myself, but I am glad that he decided to tell me of them, for I know how to use them now that I must. Everything is white, slightly dirtied as if by use, but strangely pristine in appearance despite that. All of the uses that Lucifel described for plumbing are there, in truth three different types of basin: the "bathtub", the "toilet", and the "sink", which has a storage cabinet with strange-smelling liquids in bottles made of a strange, somewhat pliable substance beneath it. There is a large mirror behind it, and a small mirrored cabinet beside it with boxes of bright tablets that advertise relief from various common symptoms. I wish that I could show these medicines to Raphael and Gabriel! I am too wary of them to try them without affirmation they will work.
Beyond that is a small room for storage, where there were coats hanging from a rack, a woolen blanket folded on a shelf, and a bag that, by the writing on its front, contained food for cats, along with a strange device: something on wheels with a handle, that has a cloth bag attached to the front. It has a long cord of sorts wrapped around the handle. I should remember to ask Lucifel about it when I return, as in order for Armaros to experience the future that he has experienced, I must return someday.
Across from this room is a large room that I feel should have been a guest room, but seems to have housed the cats, complete with small cushions, presumably as beds, and shallow dishes marked for food and water. There were several strange structures covered in a sort of short fur, doubtless for the cats to play on. I believe I was right in assuming these animals were the children the couple couldn't have. I stored all of the captured images of the couple in a chest in this room that held several small, brightly colored objects inside. If their loved ones come to see them, I will be ready to give them their possessions, and their house if they ask. There are too many possessions here for them to have left behind while moving; I fear the worst for them, and for everyone in this city. What has happened here?
The end of the hallway leads to the bedroom where I sit and write this now. The bed is large enough for two people, perhaps three if one is slender, and raised off of the ground. It's quite comfortable, and I have slept well. There is a desk on the other side of the room by the window, with drawers containing paper and pens - the pens here are self-inking! There was also a box with several short sticks tipped with red dye - I thought they may have been kindling, but they're too small, and the bedroom is an odd place to keep them. The box has one textured edge, and the front seems to have once had writing, but it's too faded for me to read now. There is a smaller bathroom inside of this bedroom, which seems rather convenient. It is stocked in much the same way as the other, and seems to have seen more use.
The other hallway from the front room is very short, and leads to a room with a small table for dining at, near what I assume is a kitchen from the rather delicate dishes kept inside and what once must have been food in a large upright chest. The food was long-spoiled, and I took it upon myself to find a place in the back to bury it so that it could nourish the earth instead of infesting the room with its stench. There is another sink here, deeper than the sink I mentioned before. The oven does not have room to light a fire nor ventilation, and there are disks on top that seem to have no purpose, along with knobs that can be turned. I assume this is similar in some way to the buttons on Lucifel's device, as some of them have similar labels, though manipulating them has no effect that I observed.
There appears to be a trapdoor above the small storage room from before, as well, but I have not opened it. Perhaps I should, once my writing has caught up to my experiences.
Day 3 and 4 (written on the seventh day):
These days were uneventful, days for establishing the patterns and routines of our life at Meridian while Armaros recovers. I will not actively search for an escape until I see Armaros in good health. The food in the stores here seems to appear sometime in the middle of the night, so I've taken to gathering only food that does not quickly spoil. Our immediate surroundings are more houses that seem unoccupied, but there are stores not far from them to the north and south, and I imagine I would find more should I travel east, though the paved roads are much easier to travel by when my arms are full with food and supplies. I do wonder if they couldn't have been painted brown or some other shade not quite as lifeless as gray, the roads seem lifeless and unnatural. Perhaps they would have seemed more welcoming were they not so empty. I know I should be grateful for the lack of life here, for my heart can't break the bonds it finds and too few are immortal, but with a city so empty I can't help but long to see another person at times as I am out gathering food.
Day 5 and 6 (written on the seventh day):
It seems pointless to divide two uneventful days from the others, but I don't feel such peace belongs with the description of what happened in these days. Armaros improved rapidly, eating well, resting well, and taking walks to regain his strength in the time between. It is not uncommon for him to sleep for a short time after walking, and I don't disturb him; I trust his body to seek what it most needs now that he is out of immediate danger.
However, on the morning of the fifth day, he did not emerge in time for the midday meal (I've added a third meal to our day for his condition and the abundance of food here), and I thought he might not have slept well at night, so I ate alone and saved his food for when he woke. But when he still did not join me, I grew worried and went to see him. He seemed to be sleeping and dreaming peacefully, so I let him be. He slept through the rest of the day as I began work on this journal.
As the sun set, I felt I had to wake him, for no matter how tired he was I couldn't allow him to go without food in his state. He was slow to wake and seemed to dream even as he sat upright, having long overslept. I have done the same, myself, when Lucifel neglected to wake me from deep sleep, so I knew that water would help revitalize him. On fetching some water for him, he became more alert, but seemed even more tired than when he had first slept, despite his peaceful sleep.
He asked for his paper and pen, and I obliged, and he told me that he had not been dreaming at all, but was exploring the city even as he slept soundly. He had been shown a map by one of the other residents here, and he reproduced it for me. It was too accurate and detailed to have been the product of a mere dream, so I knew his words were the truth. The other Grigori have shown able to project their souls elsewhere, as I have witnessed rather directly in their attacks on me, so I would believe him on that alone, but it seems as if others can do the same.
But I couldn't ponder this matter too long, I had not forgotten that Armaros was lacking two meals by now, and he seemed to be feeling weak and ill. I gave him some fruit juice preserved much the same way as the broth, and he immediately rushed to the bathroom to expel it after drinking it. I followed, and saw he still seemed ill, with his hands braced against the sink. This worried me greatly, but I could do no more than ensure his hair was not in the way.
How unprepared I was to see that it was vileness his body still sought to purge! I have felt the influence of vileness before, in the portals to The Darkness where Ishtar's bones still remained, and know it to be a powerfully terrifying experience that tears open all of the scars of the heart and lets pain and doubt reign inside of it. And that is only the feeling of being near it! I cannot imagine the suffering of having swallowed it. Words can't describe the immense pain I feel for Armaros, knowing what he has endured now.
It did not drain as the water did, so I purified it and did what I could to comfort Armaros.
I should not continue to write today. It has been a week and so I should rest, but I could find no peace, and this is no longer of any help.
Day 6, continued (written on the twelfth day):
I was in no state to write until now, which I will explain when my writing reaches those days. I'm still somewhat addled from my experience, so my details may be lacking. However, I think setting these experiences to paper will help me find some peace and calm myself after my ordeal.
It was perhaps fortunate that I failed to write all of the events of this day at once, for now I have the opportunity to separate the horror of the vileness from the thrill of discovery. After both of us had calmed, Armaros told me that he would like to return to the reflection of the city because he could speak there. I've forgotten what his voice sounded like. I would like to go there with him so I can hear it again.
He tried to return there, but he said he felt as if he was being blocked, and seemed to be in pain. I insisted he rest, and resolved to try finding this reflection for myself once I had rested as well.
After I had slept, I gathered food and left a share for Armaros, who seemed to have gone for another walk. I decided to take a walk of my own along the wall that it seems I can see but Armaros can't - this city only seems stranger the more I learn, and in the strangest of ways. As I walked, I pondered the mystery of this reflection that I've come to learn the others call the "second level". Armaros had seemed to project himself to it when his mind was clear before sleep, so I wondered if any trance state would suffice.
I knelt and began to pray deeply, in no small part hoping I would reach something more familiar than a mere reflection of this city, some assurance that someone knows where I am. I felt something at the back of my mind, the presence of a precipice of sorts, as if I had come to a ledge while walking with closed eyes but had not stepped over it. I felt a strange sort of lightness in my body, and I opened my eyes to see the city seemed unchanged.
My first encounter there is memorable in so many ways. I wish I could give a more concise summary of the conversation but I've never felt so caught off-guard. There was a man and what appeared to be a large white dog or more likely fox, speaking to one another. The fox told the man he should greet me, and he did, introducing himself as Ashraf al-Mansur, and the fox called himself Tiriganaq. However, when I gave my own name and said it was good to meet the both of them, Ashraf seemed perplexed and then offended, calling Tiriganaq a "delusion". Tiriganaq addressed me, however, calling himself a "fragment of unprocessed memory", which I took to mean something like a dream. Ashraf tried to explain, but his words were unfamiliar and I couldn't understand anything beyond a vague idea that he had something attached to his brain. Tiriganaq once again set the idea to words I understood, stating simply that he was a mind attached to Ashraf's. The two seem to share a close bond, and I don't doubt that Tiriganaq is Ashraf's only companion at times. A constant companion is a valuable, wonderful thing, and I am glad that Ashraf has one.
He needs one, I believe, for I learned that he believes neither souls nor Heaven exist. Is this the price of remaining uninvolved, that Earth will forget Heaven completely? And to not believe he has a soul is simply unfathomable to me; I've tried to understand his thoughts and I simply cannot. He walked away when I told him that I had lived in Heaven. It's the last place I've been able to call home, and to hear someone claim it does not exist is unnerving.
My distress broke my focus, and I found myself feeling somewhat tired where I had knelt to pray. I found a large pony standing before me, built like a workhorse and yoked like one as well, his coat an impossible shade of red and a mark shaped like a green apple on his flank. He greeted me as I approached, and I thought he wasn't as he seemed, like Tiriganaq. He called himself a pony, however, and said that there were only ponies where he was originally from. I am encountering so many strange beings in this city that I have never heard of even in Heaven. It's rather confusing.
Before I could ask about where he was from, he asked me if I had any food for him. I'd imagine that this city isn't as hospitable to ponies as it is to humans, for ponies are capable of eating less than we are. I invited him to the house Armaros and I take shelter at, and offered him the apples I had taken for us. He didn't find the first one agreeable, but the second seemed to taste better to him. Strangely enough, he expresses his emotions as a human, with his eyes and mouth, more than he does with his ears as a pony would. The difference was somewhat unsettling, but it seemed to make sense when I heard his human speech. He introduced himself as "Big Macintosh", and I can certainly see where he got the appelation; he's nearly as tall as a horse. It's rather comforting knowing someone else who has lived with being notably tall in his community.
He spoke of dishes his sister would cook for him at home, some of which sound unusual, but appetizing. We spoke of food until the conversation ran dry and he excused himself to find land he could plow, which he had been searching for when he found me. Once he left, I sat to write more in this journal until the day ended.
Day 7 (written on the thirteenth day):
It occurred to me on this day that Meridian could not possibly have a day of rest, as there is no way to consider the day of the week, and many people are arriving at different times and in different places. And yet, it is my habit when living in one place to observe a day of rest, and therefore I took this day as a day of rest, and as I write this on my thirteenth day here, will do the same tomorrow. I thought I should make a note of my resting habits, as well, should the absence of work on later days strike anyone I show this journal as odd.
Day 8 (written on the thirteenth day):
This day marked the beginning of the event that I am recovering from at this very moment. Despite being a heavy sleeper, Armaros managed to leave the house in the middle of the night without waking me. I believe he must have had some sense of the spell that would affect us that night, and I fear what might have happened to him had he not; I haven't asked what he became, but if it couldn't live out of water, I may have risen to find him dead beside me. The thought fills me with dread, and despite the difficulty it posed me I am glad to have found myself alone.
Most of us in the city had become animals, and I found myself with the body of a swan, like the archangels. It was difficult to move, and it took a fall from the bed and several minutes before I was able to walk. I didn't realize the extent of what had happened, and I was confused by the sudden change. I wanted to find Armaros, though for a reason I cannot explain, I was less worried at the time than I should have been. Was my fear so great that my mind failed to accommodate it? Flight was more difficult, and I could only fly in short bursts. Swans are strong, and heavy for birds, so I used that weight and the superhuman endurance that seemed to have remained with me for the transformation, and tried to turn the door-knob with the force of my body. After several tries, and from the feel of it, bruises beneath those feathers, I managed to put enough weight into both knob and door to open it.
Once outside, I took a moment to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, and went to the second level, thinking that if others were also having difficulty moving, they would be gathering there, as well, so some information might be had, and I might be able to learn where Armaros was. Fortune was with me, for I met a woman who had become a duck there, and she was aware of the change and claimed to have the magical skill to reverse it. I don't know if she's human or not, and I partly suspect she might be an angel of some kind, but all the same, she worked very hard for all of us.
I spent the rest of the day learning flight and searching for any sign of Armaros.
Day 9 (written on the fifteenth day):
Though I was tired, I did not sleep soundly, for my hunger interrupted my sleep several times during the night. Though I could enter some of the shops, I didn't try for fear of being unable to open the door from inside. My attempts at flight suffered for it, and I found myself faltering. When a failed landing carried me into the side of a building, my life preserved once more by my endurance, I decided to check the second level for sign of Armaros again rather than try to fly further.
There, I saw a man who hadn't been transformed, older than the others, and he was offering to give food to those who had no access to it on their own. I never did learn his name, though we spoke at some length. I asked him if he knew what swans ate, for I had never seen the archangels feed, and I suspected my body behaved as a bird's rather than as a human's in all respects. He told me they ate plants at the bottom of ponds, but offered me bread if I could reach him. However, I learned that he was on the other side of the wall and could not cross, so it was not to be so easy, despite his offer of finding someone who could bring it to me. This city is so large that I think anyone he sent would have difficulty finding me, and I do not think I would have the energy to remain on the second level long enough to help them. It took a great deal of effort to stay and speak with him about the side of the city he couldn't see as it was, and to ask if he had seen Armaros. He had not seen or heard from him, on either level, so my friend was still unaccounted for. It seemed my only hope was to see him as I traveled, and so I was forced to leave the level to conserve my strength.
Day 10 and 11 (written on the fifteenth day):
It has occurred to me as I write this that when my writing catches up with my experiences, I will have more idle time than I have ever had to my memory. I do not know what I will do with it, but perhaps an idea will come to me before then, and if not I could ask Armaros for ideas.
I spent most of the tenth and eleventh days traveling in short bursts of flight followed by long bouts of rest. My forced fasting was beginning to take its toll on my body, and I often felt lethargic in mind and body. I did not see Armaros, nor meet anyone at all, let alone someone who had seen him or someone who knew more of the situation. I will say however that flight is an incredible thing, and that everyone ought to see the world from the sky at least once in their lives. It is an incredible experience, knowing how truly small even the tallest buildings seem from so high, and how living things are nigh invisible.
When I came across a small pond when the sun was nearing its peak on the eleventh day, I didn't think about my inability to swim, only that there was food there. Before I was aware of it, I was floating on the surface of the water as naturally as any true swan, and then that moment of clarity dissipated, for the next I was fully aware, I had upended for food and my head was beneath the surface of the pond. Though food was in reach, a panic seized me and I struggled to right myself, forgetting how to float and managing between wings and feet to make it to shore in a way that I can't properly recount. I only remember a blur of panic, the world seeming all water, and the fear of imminent death before I was on my side in the grass, breathing heavily and feeling even more tired than I had moments ago.
When I realized what had happened, I wondered if anyone had seen me, and I lifted my head to see that I had not been alone in the pond, for a large, frightful-looking creature was crawling out as well. I would describe him as a demon, but after that conversation, I wouldn't dare call such a gentle person that, regardless of appearance. He had a large, feline body that seemed modified to stand on two legs, covered in black hair. His face seemed like a horned skull, exposed teeth and all, but his eyes were so very human - they are what made me realize he was not the demon he appeared. He was yet another person who had been trapped in a form, though not in a common animal form as others had been.
He proved to have some knowledge of The Darkness, thinking that this transformation, or perhaps even other mysteries of the city, could be explained by demons. It certainly was starving many people at the moment. I was surprised that we could discuss matters of The Darkness and be understood, but even more so to hear him express admirable resolve to protect others against it. So few would say that, and I felt so moved that despite knowing he was likely mortal, I gave my name out of respect rather than propriety. I learned his name was Asato, and that despite his knowledge, he was neither priest, prophet, nor chosen, but he certainly has the purity and resolve to be so, I think. In spite of this purity, he is somewhat simple, and his humility is as a fault - his opinion of himself is so low that he didn't believe me when I told him he was pure-hearted.
In all, I felt I had met a new friend, but he is only mortal, and I don't know that I can bear his inevitable fate.
Day 12 (written on the fifteenth day):
It was the middle of the night when for the first time since becoming a swan, I felt cold. It woke me, and before I realized I had done so I found myself using my hands to sit up. I was human again! Of course, I went to the second level to see if this change had been reversed for everyone, only to hear the voice I'd heard from the duck earlier, now belonging to a young woman who called herself Sola. She had reversed the transformation, though too well, as even those who were never human were so now, but surely such a thing was better than being unable to reach food. I promised I would help her with whatever I could in the future to repay her, and I left the second level to seek shelter. I found it in a shop, where I wrote one of the previous entries on what paper I could find there until I could sleep again. Though I woke from sleep, hunger made travel difficult, and I spent more of the day sleeping than moving.
Day 13 (written on the sixteenth day):
I finally reached a shop with food the next morning and I gorged myself on food regardless of the state or flavor until I felt I could eat no more, then I fell into a deep sleep until I woke to my body's protest of the sudden glut of food after a four-day fast. Once again, I found myself missing Lucifel's presence, knowing he would have warned against eating so much at once. Most of the food had no longer been good to eat, and though my recklessness left me with an aching stomach, I did not feel I was severely ailing. After an ample drink of water and some further rest, I felt well enough to eat again. I gathered what food was still good for myself and Armaros, confident he would return home now that he could certainly walk. I ate as I walked, hungry once more, until I heard someone call to me. Approaching me was a man in very strange clothes, none that I could compare to Lucifel's at all, with blue hair. He spoke curtly and harshly, asking for some of the food I carried. I wondered if he had seen the abandoned stores, or if he realized there was no one to sell the items within, but allowed him to take what he wished from me. It was when he asked why I hadn't eaten that I realized he had been unaffected. I told him that we had become animals, but he clearly did not believe me - he used the word "high" in a way that I hadn't heard before, but from the conversation, I take it to mean "hallucinating". I knew what I experienced to be real; I had traveled further north than I would have been able to travel on foot, and I know I could not have floated on the surface of the pond as I did, for I do not know how to swim. Those of us who were transformed saw one another as the same animal they perceived themselves to be. How could this be a hallucination with so many reporting the same thing? His attitude was certainly unbecoming of someone who had just been given food, and I was growing tired of speaking with him. I bade him farewell, but he asked for my name. I wish I had never learned his: Michael! To think one so rude shares a name with one of the four great Archangels. When I told him he should live up to his namesake, he had the gall to equate himself with the Archangel! "If you ever need the great archangel to help you, just call," he said. I told him, "I don't doubt the archangel would help me, but I wouldn't refuse your assistance." I hope Lucifel would be proud of me for defending his brother's honor, for that would make this anger worth feeling. It's wasted on someone who will eventually die.
Thankfully, that bitter mood was not to last. I saw Armaros soon enough; it seems he had been searching for me, as well. The relief I felt on seeing him safe was profound enough to render the meeting with Michael as a faded impression for only a moment. He seemed to be in good spirits and offered to carry some of the food, though he tired from it quickly. Even beings who were very human-like to begin with were made fully human, as Armaros lacked his tail and angelic stamina. It hadn't restored his voice, but all the same, I am truly happy that my friend was able to spend some time as a true human. Without his angelic strength, Armaros's human form was affected strongly by his physical state. I regret that his time as a human was not in good health. I hope that he will have this chance again someday.
We spoke briefly of the forms we had taken, and I wrote more of this journal for the rest of the day.
Day 17:
At last, I write as I experience. The three days before this were largely uneventful, the first being a rest day and the other two spent writing this journal. I did say I would explore the door in the hall's ceiling when this happened, but perhaps I will wait until there is less to do. I am not idle, for with Armaros being in a weaker body than he is accustomed to, I have had to do more for the both of us.
When I let myself hear the second level today, I heard a girl's voice, in distress. On focusing on her, I noticed she was another with an odd hair color: pink. I thought she was affected by the transformation, so I approached her and asked if she was normally human. She, like Armaros, was not in a body she was accustomed to, though I am curious as to what she meant when she said her "databanks" were missing. I did not ask her directly, because I didn't wish to upset her. It was only fair to let her know that Sola was working on this problem and that everyone should be restored soon. She had met Sola before, but was unaware she held such power. When I gave her my theory that Sola is an angel or something very like one, she revealed that, like Ashraf, she hadn't known Heaven existed. How many will there be in the future who have lost this knowledge to our lack of involvement? But she was eager to learn in the way that every child should be, and I have no doubts that she believed me.
What is surprising about this visit is that she had met Armaros, but was not aware that he couldn't normally speak. It gives me hope that Armaros is becoming a part of this community. I fear I will need to do the same while I am here, but for Armaros's comfort, I can set aside the dread of the inevitable.
Day 18:
I was occupied today longer than I expected. All those who were not naturally human were reverted today, at the expense of much of Sola's energy. She could scarcely keep herself on the second level for her fatigue. I will find some way to repay the favor.
Because Armaros had his angelic energy returned to him at last, he went for a walk after our midday meal. Alone, I thought of reading or idly watching the second level, but I felt restless, so I decided that I would leave a note for him and travel out, as well. As I walked, I saw something pass behind me in the reflection of a store window. It had a human shape, but I saw a tail as well. Afraid it might be a demon, I followed it to where it stopped standing on a rooftop. When I spoke to him, his voice seemed familiar to me, and it was only when he recognized mine as well that I realized we had met when we were transformed, and the person before me, though strange, was not a demon at all. He was Asato, the creature I had met at the lake when I had attempted to feed myself! He called himself a "ribika", from Sisa, a land I have never heard of. I am certain I would recall hearing of a land containing people with cat's ears and tails, three hundred years between myself and Heaven or not, and furthermore, why are there no angels that resemble them? It could well be that God will not create them, for there are no humans where he is from and there are tall buildings like the ones here in Meridian, though they lie in ruin. He claimed the sun sank into the sea, and so they were given a second moon. His creation story is rather different, and as always entertaining to hear, but I cannot help but worry about our fate, and God's, for all of the acts of creation seem attributed to the Shekinah instead. I will ask Lucifel when I return, surely he can't be as calm as he seems if he knows this.
After such bleak implications, I was glad when Asato changed the subject, speaking of a "song of the heart", the root of music and poetry, and the love that lifts others up. The conversation that followed only reinforced the low self-esteem he had shown in our first encounter, as he spoke of love as a precious treasure he could never hope to obtain, and thought it strange when others were kind to him. It is a weakness of mine that has led to far too much pain in the past, but I cannot overcome it: when I find someone has such a void in their lives, in their hearts, I cannot help but feel the need to fill it.
Day 19:
I will do as I said I would and explore beyond the door in the ceiling today, as I have very little else to do. I will record my observations here once I am done.
It was dark inside, with the only light from the small window near the top of the house, the room cramped by the slope of the ceiling. There was a mock evergreen tree stored in segments that were clearly meant to attach to one another beside a box with a coil of a long rope made up of fragile-seeming silver ribbons, beneath it a longer rope made of a sturdier green cable decorated with small glass cylindrical domes. These appear to have the same thin structure inside as the glass bulbs on the ceiling of many rooms. I wonder if they serve a purpose.
Behind it was a smaller box, inside a delicate clay figure resembling the inside of a stable. It didn't strike me as odd until I had examined it twice, but the figures inside it were dressed in a way I would expect to see in my own time, rather than similar to the way Lucifel dresses as the couple who once lived here dressed in the pictures. Their clothes were more colorful than I would expect, though this may have been the paint, and the scene itself was odd in a way, depicting a couple bent over a newborn child and three men dressed like nobles behind with gifts. There were grossly simplified angelic figures with identical features in the arch over the human figures. Perhaps this child grew to become a legend, as I can think of no other reason for it to be associated with the divine. Dare I dream of the company of another chosen in Heaven later? Human company without mortality between us would be wonderful, not to disrespect the angels whose companionship I hold dear. I love Armaros and Lucifel, but someone who understands my perspective completely would be a welcome addition to Heaven.
Beside this box was one containing several delicate colored orbs that I learned to be made of glass when I dropped one and it broke, revealing a hollow interior lined with something that shone like gold. The orbs were beautifully painted, predominantly in green, red, and white, and in such a way that the paint seemed to produce its own soft glow in the light. Some were adorned with intricate patterns in gold, many with the face of a bearded elder in a fur hat. I spent some time admiring these, stricken by their beauty and impossible fragility.
After all of these strange finds, the last box was somewhat disappointing, but no less intriguing. It contained several clothes that seemed as if they had not been worn in years, though there was no damage to them. Among them were various styles of hats and gowns in faded blues and grays. At the bottom was a folded gown, carefully-laid in contrast to the crumpled articles I had removed, wrapped in a pliant, transparent sort of paper to protect it from dust. Because it seemed to have such high importance placed on it, I did not remove it from its protective barrier, but instead merely unfolded it, noting how it folded so I could replace it. It was a beautiful gown in white, decorated intricately. Surely, it must have been quite expensive to make, which would explain the lengths taken to preserve it - but why set it beneath all of these other clothes instead of out in the open? I suppose that does protect it from dust as well, or perhaps it discourages thieves.
I returned downstairs to await Armaros's return from his walk so I could show him what I had found, setting aside the rest of the day to gather food and write this entry.
Day 23:
The past few days have been pleasant routine, aside from the occasional unremarkable meeting with another. The weather grows colder, and I suspect we are nearing midwinter. Armaros's map shows there is a forest along the entire northern border of the city. I will wake early and travel there to gather firewood. I saw a large flat cart in the back of a shop; perhaps if I can set a barrier on the back, I can use that to gather enough to last the winter, with some to spare. I know not how large this city is, but it is something I will soon discover.
Day 24 (written on the twenty-fifth day):
Had I known I would be walking over a day's journey either direction, I might have started travel earlier. I write this in the waning hours of the day, having traveled for the length of an entire day and slept for most of this one.
I collected the cart and an empty wooden crate before dawn yesterday and began traveling north. I would like to say there were no interruptions aside from stops for food, but on the way there, I encountered the young troll woman I met when I first arrived. She revealed herself to be blind, seeming to search for something near the wall or rather to find the wall itself, and her cane vanished through it when I directed her to it. I leaned on it with all of my weight and struck it with my Arch, which raised sparks that she could smell, but the wall itself remained completely nonexistent for her. For the people who cannot see it, the wall simply is not there in any way. Such a structure is strange and wondrous, and I will admit somewhat frightening.
She was not willing to hold a conversation, however, and I wanted to press on, so we parted ways. Aside from seeing a two-legged lizard wearing a dress on one of my detours for food, the rest of the journey was uneventful, and I gathered firewood for a few hours before starting the return journey, which would last through sunset.
Day 25:
A store I found food in as the sun was setting also had some light gold-colored jewelry, though not true gold by the weight and feel. I thought of Armaros and the blackened jewelry that had clung to his hair, and the vileness that he had swallowed, and I felt that perhaps a physical return to some normalcy would help his heart as well. I took some bracelets and hair clips and continued on.
I was weary and felt the cold in my bones when I reached what I now feel I can call our home. I took some firewood that did not need to be cut to size and put them on the hearth, using my Arch against the metal instruments there to create sparks with which to start a flame. I knelt there to rest my feet and my eyes, but I must have slept, for I have no clear memory before I was aware of movement beside me and Armaros was there at my side. He helped me to my feet and I felt his skin was cold to the touch. Associated with water as he is, it does not surprise me that he was outside enjoying the chill in the air. He would not open the sack with his jewelry until he had seen me to bed, and perhaps it was fortunate that he had not been distracted by his gift when he did, for he noticed something odd as I lay down. There is a strange marking on my right shoulder, that vaguely resembles a sitting human shape holding its knees with its legs stretched straight up. I had never noticed it before, for when I did not wear my armor it was either too dark to see it or my hair fell over it. It seemed a part of my skin, as nothing disturbed it. Armaros did not seem to recognize it, but it seemed to be doing me no harm, and I was exhausted from my sleepless travel, and even now I can see no reason to fear it. Perhaps that is something to do in idle time: seek the opinions of others on the second level.
With our curiosity sated and our caution proven pointless, Armaros turned his attention to my gift. He seemed revitalized on seeing what I had brought back for him, and nearly crushed me in his embrace. He handled his new trinkets as if they were made of glass, and I could not help but share in his excitement by helping him with the hair clips. It was wonderful to see him in high spirits, and the silent "thank you" on his lips as I set his hair to what seemed its rightful state was more reward alone than I could have asked for. I was right to think they would help him; a treasured possession can be worth more than any gesture of comfort at times.
It was not long before his joyousness ran to concern again, and he urged me to sleep. But when I lay down, he lay close beside me and took my hand in his, and brought it to rest over his heart, telling me without words how much I meant to him. I may as well have been voiceless, myself, for all the good my words could do in return; all I could tell him was that he is a wonderful friend. I feel it is not enough! Armaros has a beautifully pure heart that has endured Belial's mercilessness and all of the vileness that came with it, and I am proud of it beyond any words I can imagine, and very glad to be able to lift it up this way.
Armaros tried to lull me to sleep with comforting touch, and when he kissed my forehead, a thought came to me, one that persists: for the first time in three hundred years, I am safe, as is he. Azazel is not pursuing me, Armaros is safe from the wrath of Heaven and The Darkness alike, this is not a home that I must leave, and with safety and Armaros's kind companionship comes something I had not until now realized I had missed.
I feel at home with my dear friend, and I am happy.
Day 26:
I realize that I seem to be repeating myself. I wrote in my first few days that I was aware Armaros was safe from anything, divine or vile, that would threaten him, but sometimes realizations already made seem to be reaffirmed at times, when a new facet comes to light. It is a beautiful oddity of the human heart, inefficient as I am certain it seems to an angel.
The chill in the air was not for nothing, we woke to a light snowfall. I went out in search of a hooded cloak, for my armor does not provide adequate warmth against snowfall. I have seen snow at times, but not in air that the sun cannot warm enough to melt. The ground was the color of alabaster, and everything around me seemed beautiful and pure. Despite the cold air, I felt I could gaze at the frost-covered trees forever. My search of shops with clothing were fruitless, as the only clothing with hoods I found were coats that could never fit my armor, or short capes that would also never accommodate my armor and would not warm what is exposed in the first place.
I resolved to endure the cold as I was; the lack of any decent solution did not deter me on my search for the Tower, so surely it should not deter me when I am simply leading a life like any other. As I was returning home, I saw a familiar face: Castle, the man who had introduced me to Meridian. He was building a wall of sorts in the snow, and when I asked him what it was for, he told me it was for a mock fight with snowballs. He expected no challenge, but was simply bored. I cannot fault him that, this city rather lends itself to idle time.
Our talk turned to the mysterious wall in the center of the city. He is one of the people here for whom the wall does not exist, and he was able to see someone named Gamzee lean on it, apparently on the air itself, to his eyes. I learned that Sola is one of the natives from this talk. I hope I will be able to speak with her again, for I am curious about this city and wish to find answers. Her powers seem to be far greater than a human's, however, and I still believe her to be something very like an angel.
Day 28:
Though today is a rest day, I'm afraid I have learned some troubling news I feel I must write now. I heard a woman asking for a pair of dragons and a blonde-haired woman named Lucrezia. It seems that people have been disappearing from the city. I should hope that they've simply settled into routine, or that if they're gone, that they've returned to where they belong.
Day 29:
Today has been unusual and worrying. I've learned something new about the nature of this place, its implications more than I wish to entertain.
In the morning, I found a pair of young children, brothers by their faces, wandering lost in the snow. They seemed strangely aloof for their age, and only asked basic questions. As much as I longed to shelter them, I know I would only watch them age and die before me.
But it was who I encountered next that I will remember today by. After our midday meal, I listened to the second level in hopes of learning more about the missing people, and found someone new. He was a man nearly as tall as I, with albino features and clad in strange wooden shoes and a flowing black robe with a bright green pattern. He was asking for information on the city, having discovered the second level quickly. When I approached him, he thought me an angel! I have long harbored the thought that I may not be as human as I once was, for I have survived events that no human should have been able to endure, and the power my son was able to draw forth, my power, which Michael also called the power of God - surely no one who can summon such power is a true human. Methuselah spoke as if he came from my future, and yet Lucifel seemed to have no knowledge of it. Will I become an angel?
Though he could sense my soul, the man claimed to be human. But his voice was full of bitterness when he called me an angel, and I thought he must be a demon. Though I ought to hate him as one, how can I? Further question led to the revelation that he was thousands of years old, and when he seemed afraid on hearing my name I knew he must be from a time closer to my own. He was none other than my great uncle after three generations, Cain the son of Adam. The bitterness I had heard was all too human. For killing his brother, God had cursed him with immortality, and his memory has grown to match.
Immortality as a punishment! God is aware of the pain it brings! Now, as then, I cannot bring myself to dwell on this thought, for this doubt hurts as the presence of vileness.
The God he speaks of is nothing like the one I know exists. He claimed He wished to eradicate free will, the very spirit of which my mission rests on! But when I contested this, he offered the idea that we are from two separate realities. While it eases my mind to think that the ruined world Asato knows, run by the Shekinah and not God, may not be my future, more doubt weighs my heart like a stone when I think of what it might mean for Armaros, that caring for him now may not have an effect on my world and "mine" may be doomed to waste away in The Darkness with no intervention.
No, our memories match too well. Surely, I am from his past and he my future!
It brings a comfort of a sort, to know I have not only the company of someone else who will not die, but a distant kinsman. Cain is family who will not die. But his world is a worrying one, in which the world was flooded in the time of my great-grandson. He told me to swear I would prevent it, and to him I swore to and reaffirmed my mission.
My world will never be his, and I will see to that. I should distance myself from this God-hating ancestor of mine, but he and I share an experience that is comparable to none other, and he is family, immortal family. I cannot hate him.
My words cannot convey what I felt and experienced today, and as the light from the window dwindles, I resign myself to being unable to properly say what happened.
Day 30:
I forgot that I had spoken to the cat with the cloth around its neck during my time as a swan, for my hunger and surprise at meeting Asato in such a form, until today when I met him again. Armaros and I were woken by its loud yowling, and we climbed to the roof to quiet it. It is no ordinary cat, we learned, for he responded to us with human gestures. Though we didn't know what had upset him, we invited him in for a meal before he went home. I wonder who his owner is, and how he came to be this way. Was he once human?
Day 34:
My every encounter with Ashraf is doomed to be trying, it seems. Today I met him on the second level discussing a gathering to share information with Tiriganaq. I felt I should apologize to him, for surely a man who has no belief in souls has experienced something beyond my imagining. Even now, I cannot understand how he can believe such a thing; the mere thought of it is very distressing. Death is trying enough even with the knowledge that the deceased are safe, being judged and sorted into Sheol. How can he bear what pain must come from believing the dead are gone entirely?
I must write on another subject, lest my hand tremble too heavily to write at all.
I learned he is marked just as I am, and he suspects the wall may be determined by our markings. He and I are trapped on the same side, and there are some who may pass freely between the two halves of the city, as well as those trapped on the opposite side. We had a disagreement on, of all things, the nature of what exists as we perceive it, but this argument was resolved quickly, for we are both in pursuit of knowledge. Our shared want for knowledge, however, seemed an impossibility for Ashraf, as he believed my piety should cause me to spurn knowledge. This description of the pious as he knew them worried me, and when the conversation seemed on friendlier terms, I asked if that was truly the way those who call themselves men of God would act, and for a moment I was relieved when he said that he couldn't call them "pious". I thought that surely this meant there were enough truly pious people that he was mistaken when he said they were, but in truth he seemed to say it only because he believed that without God, people cannot truly be pious. Even revealing my true age and the origins of my armor, stating again that I had lived in Heaven and traveled with angels...he would not believe that some power existed beyond us. It is not a battle worth fighting, but it puzzles and hurts me that he so insists that all I have lived for the past three centuries is a delusion.
No matter, I have agreed to spread the word. I should not allow my feelings to be a barrier to learning more of this strange city.
Last update: Out of space. New journal here.))
Journal of Meridian
Day One (written on the fifth day):
Herein I shall record my experiences in the strange city of Meridian, removed from time. Though I write this on my fifth day here, I shall attempt to maintain the separation of days before this. As I have no reference of the time of day when I was in the Tower, and so no way to determine whether a discrepancy exists between it and Meridian, a "Day" here refers to the period of time before the following sunset, regardless of when I had last seen a sunset.
The first day, therefore, is hardly a day at all. I had left the large cavern where I saw Armaros's Nephilim and found myself in a much more Earthly place, the sun high in the sky but past its peak. Though it followed all the conventions of Earth, it was unlike the Earth I had last seen. There were buildings made of a solid gray substance, some with metal pipes attached to the walls and roofs. I do not think they were dwellings; something about them seemed unwelcoming and unlivable.
I made my way to one of the rooftops to survey my surroundings, and it was there that I began to find life. People walking below but out of my sight saw me leap to the roof, and there was a cat there with a cloth tied around its neck - someone must take care of it. I met a man who called himself Castle. His manner of dress was reminiscent of Lucifel's, though of a softer-seeming cloth than denim, so I think this city must be in the future. How could I have traveled through time without a single one of my guides in sight, however? Lucifel would retrieve me in an instant. It was through him that I learned the name of this city, Meridian, and that it was populated by others like me who had simply found themselves there without any warning. However, he did say that there were natives. I should look for them.
It was not long before I met another, a strange girl, perhaps a young woman, who was neither human nor angel, nor demon. She had skin the color of ashes and short horns, yellow and orange like a fire. She had strange red eyes with neither pupil nor white. She called herself a "troll". She wasn't hostile, but she was argumentative and cynical, too much so for her age.
When they had gone, I returned to the rooftop, finding my orientation from the sun and shadows. To my north and east, I saw more buildings. There seemed to be more variety in color beyond a certain point. To my south, I could see a beach. To the west, there was a large stone wall stretching very high into the air and extending north and south as far as I could see, even into the ocean.
Though I felt drawn to the water, I wished to explore the different buildings to the north, in the hopes of finding these natives that Castle spoke of, and so I set out northward. Along the way, I found a building that seemed to house a market, but there was nobody in sight. I did not want to steal, but I was hungry, and the food seemed to have been unattended all day. I took a green vegetable stalk that seemed least withered, but when it passed my lips I tasted some sort of nut. I didn't recognize it, but I can't take food for granted. It was filled with water, so despite the strange taste, I found it refreshing.
The buildings north of the strange gray ones seemed more varied, a mix between homes and more housed markets. If this is the future, this is an ingenious way of storing and trading, protected from the elements and in a permanent, easily-reachable place. Food is in an unusual abundance here, but I haven't seen a single livestock animal, orchard, vineyard, or farm anywhere. In some ways, this is undeniably Earth while it is so very alien in others.
I would travel north until the day began to close.
Day Two (written on the fifth day):
Some of the sections in the city I passed through were crumbling. An air like diluted vileness hung over them, and the grass was withered and brown. Birds would fly around them, and a small creature with a large, bushy tail refused to enter one by land as I did. The third such area unnerved me and I grew afraid of its presence and wished to turn back, but I saw another person in the distance, carrying an impossibly large blade.
My curiosity overcame my fear, and I passed through it to meet him. He, too, wore clothing like Lucifel's, and he wore a strange sort of mask or covering over his eyes despite the dim light of the day's closing. We spoke, and he introduced himself as Strider. Are all names in the future so strange? He, too, had just arrived, and he proved to have a wit so strongly reminiscent of Lucifel I found myself more acutely missing his presence and his jokes. It has been countless years since I've been truly apart from him, unable to speak with him when I wished. I am lucky to have made the discovery I did the next day, or dwelling on this would have made me deeply despair. Writing these words causes me to miss him even more so.
I couldn't resist joining him in a game of humor, affected by his wit as I was. But the night would fall soon, so we exchanged information - I told him what Castle had told me, and he had a hypothesis of his own: one that involved a disturbing image of corpses brought to life. I believe he must be wrong, but the idea of it frightens me greatly. Can such a thing occur?
We parted ways after I showed him one of the abandoned markets - he wished to explore northward, while I, after what I had seen and heard, and missing my guides, longed for the comfort of the tide.
I made my way south as far as I could, back to the gray buildings, before I grew too tired to continue. I slept on the ground, with my Arch in my hand. And it is here that I break from writing to sleep, as well, for it is growing too dark to write.
Day Two, continued (written on the sixth day):
I expected to sleep lightly, but found the temperature here was not as harsh as the locations on Earth I was used to. I was not woken in a state of bitter, numb cold, but slept until sunrise, waking to cold, but not the deadly cold of the desert night. I searched this strange city even in my dreams, chasing the echoes of the chiming of Lucifel's device, but never finding their source. I remember that dream vividly, for I remember my loneliness on waking. It drove me towards the sea even more urgently, and I arrived at the beach in low tide, as the sky lightened.
I walked along the beach, taking comfort in the smell of the air and the spray the wind blew against my face, like a friend's vitalizing presence. And what an apt comparison it is, for I found a friend in the sea, of the sea. How fortunate I was to have been drawn so strongly by my dream! And how strange it is that my longing for one friend led me to find another.
As I walked, I saw the shape of a body on the beach, and I hurried towards it to see what could be done. As I drew close, I saw it was Armaros, the very same Grigori I had been on my way to fight, but I could not have fought him in the state I found him. He was absolutely emaciated, thin and starved, and his spine stood out beneath his tail. Fearing him dead or dying, I rolled him over to see his face, and I cannot describe the relief I felt when he responded to me! I knew I should not pity him, but how can I fail to pity someone in such a state, particularly one that evokes faded memories that cause such happiness in me? I don't remember our time together, but I remember Armaros, especially with reminders from Michael and Lucifel and now that the way the Freemen spoke of him has helped me remember more; their kind words sound true to my heart.
Armaros was disoriented, but recognized me and seemed aware of himself and his surroundings. I did not know he was mute at the time, and so I was worried when he did not speak. He was quick to correct me through gesture, telling me the fall had rendered him mute. He was weak and unsteady on his feet, and seemed ill, and I wished in the moments where he seemed weakest, more than I've felt since, for his comfort and safety in spite of my mission.
I took him to a store for clothing and left him to clothe himself while I searched for more food. I found the vegetable stalk was not unusual in this place, for the peach I took for myself tasted of vanilla, and the unusually well-leavened bread I found for Armaros tasted of fruit. I read the containers of food in the store, and found there to be many wonders - I do not doubt Lucifel's choice of words in calling these shards of wisdom. There was broth in a container, sealed away from animals and elements. I tasted it, and it tasted of wine on my tongue, but so much more pleasant in flavor that I had to take a second taste to be sure it was indeed what it seemed. I knew then that this city had more unusual properties than I had expected, but as my meager meal the night before had not poisoned me, I thought that these foods should be no different aside from their taste.
I returned to find Armaros in low spirits, and I realized the rooms for changing had mirrors. My poor friend had not seen his own reflection until then! I convinced him to emerge while I searched for paper he could write on, as he was unable to speak. I was more alarmed at his lack of motivation to eat, as I have seen starving men who only did not hunger because they were close to death. I could not bear to see my friend die with a broken spirit and a drained, wasted body, there are tears in my eyes at the thought alone.
Once he had eaten, he at last wrote a message to me, asking if I still saw him as a friend. If my heart was not set on setting the mission aside before then, it was completely in favor of it at that moment. Armaros truly does have a pure heart, he does not deserve this or the mission, and I am glad I learned what I did in the conversation that followed. We spoke, he in writing and I in words, and we learned that we are not from the same point in time. Though I have not yet reached him, our battle has come and gone for him, and my mission has succeeded.
He, too, is from my future, and I will not destroy or imprison him! He will be here, in Meridian, safe from the threat of my Arch, and safe too from Belial's grasp. Our fight will not end as expected, though I wouldn't dare ask Armaros for details. All that I have learned, and all that I would ask him to recall for me, is that Belial will hold him captive, and I will save him. He gave me one of the small paper cards I found for him to write on to keep, saying "my hero". It is more a treasure to me than gold, it is proof of his survival, and I will keep it in my pocket even when it has worn down to dust.
Armaros suggested we find shelter together, and I agreed, not wanting to allow his condition to worsen and feeling a strong need to be at his side while he recovered.
The houses seem abandoned in this city, and when I realized that Armaros could walk no further, I abandoned my fear of trespass as I had of theft and claimed this small house as our shelter. There were many strange things inside of it, which I investigated after seeing Armaros to bed.
The house itself has an enclosed area behind it, I thought to keep animals, but I saw no evidence that any had been kept. Inside the door is a large room with hallways to either side, and a door to the enclosure in the back on the other side. This room contained a long, soft couch before a low table, a bookcase filled with books beside a hearth that vented through the ceiling outside, and a shelf above it with several captured images in well-worked frames, so detailed it is as if one of the images Lucifel can capture with his device was transferred flawlessly to paper. These images showed a young husband and wife, likely the residents that once lived here. Their features were pale and angular like Lucifel's and Michael's, and they had no children even though they seemed to be more than twenty years of age, but each of these captured images featured at least one cat, the most numbering three. Perhaps they were unable to have children, and were caring for cats as a substitute. The cat with the cloth around its neck that I saw the day before was not one of these cats. In fact, I did not see these cats anywhere but in the images.
The hallway to the left contained a bathing room where I found the sort of running water that I had only heard Lucifel describe before. I never imagined I would see it for myself, but I am glad that he decided to tell me of them, for I know how to use them now that I must. Everything is white, slightly dirtied as if by use, but strangely pristine in appearance despite that. All of the uses that Lucifel described for plumbing are there, in truth three different types of basin: the "bathtub", the "toilet", and the "sink", which has a storage cabinet with strange-smelling liquids in bottles made of a strange, somewhat pliable substance beneath it. There is a large mirror behind it, and a small mirrored cabinet beside it with boxes of bright tablets that advertise relief from various common symptoms. I wish that I could show these medicines to Raphael and Gabriel! I am too wary of them to try them without affirmation they will work.
Beyond that is a small room for storage, where there were coats hanging from a rack, a woolen blanket folded on a shelf, and a bag that, by the writing on its front, contained food for cats, along with a strange device: something on wheels with a handle, that has a cloth bag attached to the front. It has a long cord of sorts wrapped around the handle. I should remember to ask Lucifel about it when I return, as in order for Armaros to experience the future that he has experienced, I must return someday.
Across from this room is a large room that I feel should have been a guest room, but seems to have housed the cats, complete with small cushions, presumably as beds, and shallow dishes marked for food and water. There were several strange structures covered in a sort of short fur, doubtless for the cats to play on. I believe I was right in assuming these animals were the children the couple couldn't have. I stored all of the captured images of the couple in a chest in this room that held several small, brightly colored objects inside. If their loved ones come to see them, I will be ready to give them their possessions, and their house if they ask. There are too many possessions here for them to have left behind while moving; I fear the worst for them, and for everyone in this city. What has happened here?
The end of the hallway leads to the bedroom where I sit and write this now. The bed is large enough for two people, perhaps three if one is slender, and raised off of the ground. It's quite comfortable, and I have slept well. There is a desk on the other side of the room by the window, with drawers containing paper and pens - the pens here are self-inking! There was also a box with several short sticks tipped with red dye - I thought they may have been kindling, but they're too small, and the bedroom is an odd place to keep them. The box has one textured edge, and the front seems to have once had writing, but it's too faded for me to read now. There is a smaller bathroom inside of this bedroom, which seems rather convenient. It is stocked in much the same way as the other, and seems to have seen more use.
The other hallway from the front room is very short, and leads to a room with a small table for dining at, near what I assume is a kitchen from the rather delicate dishes kept inside and what once must have been food in a large upright chest. The food was long-spoiled, and I took it upon myself to find a place in the back to bury it so that it could nourish the earth instead of infesting the room with its stench. There is another sink here, deeper than the sink I mentioned before. The oven does not have room to light a fire nor ventilation, and there are disks on top that seem to have no purpose, along with knobs that can be turned. I assume this is similar in some way to the buttons on Lucifel's device, as some of them have similar labels, though manipulating them has no effect that I observed.
There appears to be a trapdoor above the small storage room from before, as well, but I have not opened it. Perhaps I should, once my writing has caught up to my experiences.
Day 3 and 4 (written on the seventh day):
These days were uneventful, days for establishing the patterns and routines of our life at Meridian while Armaros recovers. I will not actively search for an escape until I see Armaros in good health. The food in the stores here seems to appear sometime in the middle of the night, so I've taken to gathering only food that does not quickly spoil. Our immediate surroundings are more houses that seem unoccupied, but there are stores not far from them to the north and south, and I imagine I would find more should I travel east, though the paved roads are much easier to travel by when my arms are full with food and supplies. I do wonder if they couldn't have been painted brown or some other shade not quite as lifeless as gray, the roads seem lifeless and unnatural. Perhaps they would have seemed more welcoming were they not so empty. I know I should be grateful for the lack of life here, for my heart can't break the bonds it finds and too few are immortal, but with a city so empty I can't help but long to see another person at times as I am out gathering food.
Day 5 and 6 (written on the seventh day):
It seems pointless to divide two uneventful days from the others, but I don't feel such peace belongs with the description of what happened in these days. Armaros improved rapidly, eating well, resting well, and taking walks to regain his strength in the time between. It is not uncommon for him to sleep for a short time after walking, and I don't disturb him; I trust his body to seek what it most needs now that he is out of immediate danger.
However, on the morning of the fifth day, he did not emerge in time for the midday meal (I've added a third meal to our day for his condition and the abundance of food here), and I thought he might not have slept well at night, so I ate alone and saved his food for when he woke. But when he still did not join me, I grew worried and went to see him. He seemed to be sleeping and dreaming peacefully, so I let him be. He slept through the rest of the day as I began work on this journal.
As the sun set, I felt I had to wake him, for no matter how tired he was I couldn't allow him to go without food in his state. He was slow to wake and seemed to dream even as he sat upright, having long overslept. I have done the same, myself, when Lucifel neglected to wake me from deep sleep, so I knew that water would help revitalize him. On fetching some water for him, he became more alert, but seemed even more tired than when he had first slept, despite his peaceful sleep.
He asked for his paper and pen, and I obliged, and he told me that he had not been dreaming at all, but was exploring the city even as he slept soundly. He had been shown a map by one of the other residents here, and he reproduced it for me. It was too accurate and detailed to have been the product of a mere dream, so I knew his words were the truth. The other Grigori have shown able to project their souls elsewhere, as I have witnessed rather directly in their attacks on me, so I would believe him on that alone, but it seems as if others can do the same.
But I couldn't ponder this matter too long, I had not forgotten that Armaros was lacking two meals by now, and he seemed to be feeling weak and ill. I gave him some fruit juice preserved much the same way as the broth, and he immediately rushed to the bathroom to expel it after drinking it. I followed, and saw he still seemed ill, with his hands braced against the sink. This worried me greatly, but I could do no more than ensure his hair was not in the way.
How unprepared I was to see that it was vileness his body still sought to purge! I have felt the influence of vileness before, in the portals to The Darkness where Ishtar's bones still remained, and know it to be a powerfully terrifying experience that tears open all of the scars of the heart and lets pain and doubt reign inside of it. And that is only the feeling of being near it! I cannot imagine the suffering of having swallowed it. Words can't describe the immense pain I feel for Armaros, knowing what he has endured now.
It did not drain as the water did, so I purified it and did what I could to comfort Armaros.
I should not continue to write today. It has been a week and so I should rest, but I could find no peace, and this is no longer of any help.
Day 6, continued (written on the twelfth day):
I was in no state to write until now, which I will explain when my writing reaches those days. I'm still somewhat addled from my experience, so my details may be lacking. However, I think setting these experiences to paper will help me find some peace and calm myself after my ordeal.
It was perhaps fortunate that I failed to write all of the events of this day at once, for now I have the opportunity to separate the horror of the vileness from the thrill of discovery. After both of us had calmed, Armaros told me that he would like to return to the reflection of the city because he could speak there. I've forgotten what his voice sounded like. I would like to go there with him so I can hear it again.
He tried to return there, but he said he felt as if he was being blocked, and seemed to be in pain. I insisted he rest, and resolved to try finding this reflection for myself once I had rested as well.
After I had slept, I gathered food and left a share for Armaros, who seemed to have gone for another walk. I decided to take a walk of my own along the wall that it seems I can see but Armaros can't - this city only seems stranger the more I learn, and in the strangest of ways. As I walked, I pondered the mystery of this reflection that I've come to learn the others call the "second level". Armaros had seemed to project himself to it when his mind was clear before sleep, so I wondered if any trance state would suffice.
I knelt and began to pray deeply, in no small part hoping I would reach something more familiar than a mere reflection of this city, some assurance that someone knows where I am. I felt something at the back of my mind, the presence of a precipice of sorts, as if I had come to a ledge while walking with closed eyes but had not stepped over it. I felt a strange sort of lightness in my body, and I opened my eyes to see the city seemed unchanged.
My first encounter there is memorable in so many ways. I wish I could give a more concise summary of the conversation but I've never felt so caught off-guard. There was a man and what appeared to be a large white dog or more likely fox, speaking to one another. The fox told the man he should greet me, and he did, introducing himself as Ashraf al-Mansur, and the fox called himself Tiriganaq. However, when I gave my own name and said it was good to meet the both of them, Ashraf seemed perplexed and then offended, calling Tiriganaq a "delusion". Tiriganaq addressed me, however, calling himself a "fragment of unprocessed memory", which I took to mean something like a dream. Ashraf tried to explain, but his words were unfamiliar and I couldn't understand anything beyond a vague idea that he had something attached to his brain. Tiriganaq once again set the idea to words I understood, stating simply that he was a mind attached to Ashraf's. The two seem to share a close bond, and I don't doubt that Tiriganaq is Ashraf's only companion at times. A constant companion is a valuable, wonderful thing, and I am glad that Ashraf has one.
He needs one, I believe, for I learned that he believes neither souls nor Heaven exist. Is this the price of remaining uninvolved, that Earth will forget Heaven completely? And to not believe he has a soul is simply unfathomable to me; I've tried to understand his thoughts and I simply cannot. He walked away when I told him that I had lived in Heaven. It's the last place I've been able to call home, and to hear someone claim it does not exist is unnerving.
My distress broke my focus, and I found myself feeling somewhat tired where I had knelt to pray. I found a large pony standing before me, built like a workhorse and yoked like one as well, his coat an impossible shade of red and a mark shaped like a green apple on his flank. He greeted me as I approached, and I thought he wasn't as he seemed, like Tiriganaq. He called himself a pony, however, and said that there were only ponies where he was originally from. I am encountering so many strange beings in this city that I have never heard of even in Heaven. It's rather confusing.
Before I could ask about where he was from, he asked me if I had any food for him. I'd imagine that this city isn't as hospitable to ponies as it is to humans, for ponies are capable of eating less than we are. I invited him to the house Armaros and I take shelter at, and offered him the apples I had taken for us. He didn't find the first one agreeable, but the second seemed to taste better to him. Strangely enough, he expresses his emotions as a human, with his eyes and mouth, more than he does with his ears as a pony would. The difference was somewhat unsettling, but it seemed to make sense when I heard his human speech. He introduced himself as "Big Macintosh", and I can certainly see where he got the appelation; he's nearly as tall as a horse. It's rather comforting knowing someone else who has lived with being notably tall in his community.
He spoke of dishes his sister would cook for him at home, some of which sound unusual, but appetizing. We spoke of food until the conversation ran dry and he excused himself to find land he could plow, which he had been searching for when he found me. Once he left, I sat to write more in this journal until the day ended.
Day 7 (written on the thirteenth day):
It occurred to me on this day that Meridian could not possibly have a day of rest, as there is no way to consider the day of the week, and many people are arriving at different times and in different places. And yet, it is my habit when living in one place to observe a day of rest, and therefore I took this day as a day of rest, and as I write this on my thirteenth day here, will do the same tomorrow. I thought I should make a note of my resting habits, as well, should the absence of work on later days strike anyone I show this journal as odd.
Day 8 (written on the thirteenth day):
This day marked the beginning of the event that I am recovering from at this very moment. Despite being a heavy sleeper, Armaros managed to leave the house in the middle of the night without waking me. I believe he must have had some sense of the spell that would affect us that night, and I fear what might have happened to him had he not; I haven't asked what he became, but if it couldn't live out of water, I may have risen to find him dead beside me. The thought fills me with dread, and despite the difficulty it posed me I am glad to have found myself alone.
Most of us in the city had become animals, and I found myself with the body of a swan, like the archangels. It was difficult to move, and it took a fall from the bed and several minutes before I was able to walk. I didn't realize the extent of what had happened, and I was confused by the sudden change. I wanted to find Armaros, though for a reason I cannot explain, I was less worried at the time than I should have been. Was my fear so great that my mind failed to accommodate it? Flight was more difficult, and I could only fly in short bursts. Swans are strong, and heavy for birds, so I used that weight and the superhuman endurance that seemed to have remained with me for the transformation, and tried to turn the door-knob with the force of my body. After several tries, and from the feel of it, bruises beneath those feathers, I managed to put enough weight into both knob and door to open it.
Once outside, I took a moment to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, and went to the second level, thinking that if others were also having difficulty moving, they would be gathering there, as well, so some information might be had, and I might be able to learn where Armaros was. Fortune was with me, for I met a woman who had become a duck there, and she was aware of the change and claimed to have the magical skill to reverse it. I don't know if she's human or not, and I partly suspect she might be an angel of some kind, but all the same, she worked very hard for all of us.
I spent the rest of the day learning flight and searching for any sign of Armaros.
Day 9 (written on the fifteenth day):
Though I was tired, I did not sleep soundly, for my hunger interrupted my sleep several times during the night. Though I could enter some of the shops, I didn't try for fear of being unable to open the door from inside. My attempts at flight suffered for it, and I found myself faltering. When a failed landing carried me into the side of a building, my life preserved once more by my endurance, I decided to check the second level for sign of Armaros again rather than try to fly further.
There, I saw a man who hadn't been transformed, older than the others, and he was offering to give food to those who had no access to it on their own. I never did learn his name, though we spoke at some length. I asked him if he knew what swans ate, for I had never seen the archangels feed, and I suspected my body behaved as a bird's rather than as a human's in all respects. He told me they ate plants at the bottom of ponds, but offered me bread if I could reach him. However, I learned that he was on the other side of the wall and could not cross, so it was not to be so easy, despite his offer of finding someone who could bring it to me. This city is so large that I think anyone he sent would have difficulty finding me, and I do not think I would have the energy to remain on the second level long enough to help them. It took a great deal of effort to stay and speak with him about the side of the city he couldn't see as it was, and to ask if he had seen Armaros. He had not seen or heard from him, on either level, so my friend was still unaccounted for. It seemed my only hope was to see him as I traveled, and so I was forced to leave the level to conserve my strength.
Day 10 and 11 (written on the fifteenth day):
It has occurred to me as I write this that when my writing catches up with my experiences, I will have more idle time than I have ever had to my memory. I do not know what I will do with it, but perhaps an idea will come to me before then, and if not I could ask Armaros for ideas.
I spent most of the tenth and eleventh days traveling in short bursts of flight followed by long bouts of rest. My forced fasting was beginning to take its toll on my body, and I often felt lethargic in mind and body. I did not see Armaros, nor meet anyone at all, let alone someone who had seen him or someone who knew more of the situation. I will say however that flight is an incredible thing, and that everyone ought to see the world from the sky at least once in their lives. It is an incredible experience, knowing how truly small even the tallest buildings seem from so high, and how living things are nigh invisible.
When I came across a small pond when the sun was nearing its peak on the eleventh day, I didn't think about my inability to swim, only that there was food there. Before I was aware of it, I was floating on the surface of the water as naturally as any true swan, and then that moment of clarity dissipated, for the next I was fully aware, I had upended for food and my head was beneath the surface of the pond. Though food was in reach, a panic seized me and I struggled to right myself, forgetting how to float and managing between wings and feet to make it to shore in a way that I can't properly recount. I only remember a blur of panic, the world seeming all water, and the fear of imminent death before I was on my side in the grass, breathing heavily and feeling even more tired than I had moments ago.
When I realized what had happened, I wondered if anyone had seen me, and I lifted my head to see that I had not been alone in the pond, for a large, frightful-looking creature was crawling out as well. I would describe him as a demon, but after that conversation, I wouldn't dare call such a gentle person that, regardless of appearance. He had a large, feline body that seemed modified to stand on two legs, covered in black hair. His face seemed like a horned skull, exposed teeth and all, but his eyes were so very human - they are what made me realize he was not the demon he appeared. He was yet another person who had been trapped in a form, though not in a common animal form as others had been.
He proved to have some knowledge of The Darkness, thinking that this transformation, or perhaps even other mysteries of the city, could be explained by demons. It certainly was starving many people at the moment. I was surprised that we could discuss matters of The Darkness and be understood, but even more so to hear him express admirable resolve to protect others against it. So few would say that, and I felt so moved that despite knowing he was likely mortal, I gave my name out of respect rather than propriety. I learned his name was Asato, and that despite his knowledge, he was neither priest, prophet, nor chosen, but he certainly has the purity and resolve to be so, I think. In spite of this purity, he is somewhat simple, and his humility is as a fault - his opinion of himself is so low that he didn't believe me when I told him he was pure-hearted.
In all, I felt I had met a new friend, but he is only mortal, and I don't know that I can bear his inevitable fate.
Day 12 (written on the fifteenth day):
It was the middle of the night when for the first time since becoming a swan, I felt cold. It woke me, and before I realized I had done so I found myself using my hands to sit up. I was human again! Of course, I went to the second level to see if this change had been reversed for everyone, only to hear the voice I'd heard from the duck earlier, now belonging to a young woman who called herself Sola. She had reversed the transformation, though too well, as even those who were never human were so now, but surely such a thing was better than being unable to reach food. I promised I would help her with whatever I could in the future to repay her, and I left the second level to seek shelter. I found it in a shop, where I wrote one of the previous entries on what paper I could find there until I could sleep again. Though I woke from sleep, hunger made travel difficult, and I spent more of the day sleeping than moving.
Day 13 (written on the sixteenth day):
I finally reached a shop with food the next morning and I gorged myself on food regardless of the state or flavor until I felt I could eat no more, then I fell into a deep sleep until I woke to my body's protest of the sudden glut of food after a four-day fast. Once again, I found myself missing Lucifel's presence, knowing he would have warned against eating so much at once. Most of the food had no longer been good to eat, and though my recklessness left me with an aching stomach, I did not feel I was severely ailing. After an ample drink of water and some further rest, I felt well enough to eat again. I gathered what food was still good for myself and Armaros, confident he would return home now that he could certainly walk. I ate as I walked, hungry once more, until I heard someone call to me. Approaching me was a man in very strange clothes, none that I could compare to Lucifel's at all, with blue hair. He spoke curtly and harshly, asking for some of the food I carried. I wondered if he had seen the abandoned stores, or if he realized there was no one to sell the items within, but allowed him to take what he wished from me. It was when he asked why I hadn't eaten that I realized he had been unaffected. I told him that we had become animals, but he clearly did not believe me - he used the word "high" in a way that I hadn't heard before, but from the conversation, I take it to mean "hallucinating". I knew what I experienced to be real; I had traveled further north than I would have been able to travel on foot, and I know I could not have floated on the surface of the pond as I did, for I do not know how to swim. Those of us who were transformed saw one another as the same animal they perceived themselves to be. How could this be a hallucination with so many reporting the same thing? His attitude was certainly unbecoming of someone who had just been given food, and I was growing tired of speaking with him. I bade him farewell, but he asked for my name. I wish I had never learned his: Michael! To think one so rude shares a name with one of the four great Archangels. When I told him he should live up to his namesake, he had the gall to equate himself with the Archangel! "If you ever need the great archangel to help you, just call," he said. I told him, "I don't doubt the archangel would help me, but I wouldn't refuse your assistance." I hope Lucifel would be proud of me for defending his brother's honor, for that would make this anger worth feeling. It's wasted on someone who will eventually die.
Thankfully, that bitter mood was not to last. I saw Armaros soon enough; it seems he had been searching for me, as well. The relief I felt on seeing him safe was profound enough to render the meeting with Michael as a faded impression for only a moment. He seemed to be in good spirits and offered to carry some of the food, though he tired from it quickly. Even beings who were very human-like to begin with were made fully human, as Armaros lacked his tail and angelic stamina. It hadn't restored his voice, but all the same, I am truly happy that my friend was able to spend some time as a true human. Without his angelic strength, Armaros's human form was affected strongly by his physical state. I regret that his time as a human was not in good health. I hope that he will have this chance again someday.
We spoke briefly of the forms we had taken, and I wrote more of this journal for the rest of the day.
Day 17:
At last, I write as I experience. The three days before this were largely uneventful, the first being a rest day and the other two spent writing this journal. I did say I would explore the door in the hall's ceiling when this happened, but perhaps I will wait until there is less to do. I am not idle, for with Armaros being in a weaker body than he is accustomed to, I have had to do more for the both of us.
When I let myself hear the second level today, I heard a girl's voice, in distress. On focusing on her, I noticed she was another with an odd hair color: pink. I thought she was affected by the transformation, so I approached her and asked if she was normally human. She, like Armaros, was not in a body she was accustomed to, though I am curious as to what she meant when she said her "databanks" were missing. I did not ask her directly, because I didn't wish to upset her. It was only fair to let her know that Sola was working on this problem and that everyone should be restored soon. She had met Sola before, but was unaware she held such power. When I gave her my theory that Sola is an angel or something very like one, she revealed that, like Ashraf, she hadn't known Heaven existed. How many will there be in the future who have lost this knowledge to our lack of involvement? But she was eager to learn in the way that every child should be, and I have no doubts that she believed me.
What is surprising about this visit is that she had met Armaros, but was not aware that he couldn't normally speak. It gives me hope that Armaros is becoming a part of this community. I fear I will need to do the same while I am here, but for Armaros's comfort, I can set aside the dread of the inevitable.
Day 18:
I was occupied today longer than I expected. All those who were not naturally human were reverted today, at the expense of much of Sola's energy. She could scarcely keep herself on the second level for her fatigue. I will find some way to repay the favor.
Because Armaros had his angelic energy returned to him at last, he went for a walk after our midday meal. Alone, I thought of reading or idly watching the second level, but I felt restless, so I decided that I would leave a note for him and travel out, as well. As I walked, I saw something pass behind me in the reflection of a store window. It had a human shape, but I saw a tail as well. Afraid it might be a demon, I followed it to where it stopped standing on a rooftop. When I spoke to him, his voice seemed familiar to me, and it was only when he recognized mine as well that I realized we had met when we were transformed, and the person before me, though strange, was not a demon at all. He was Asato, the creature I had met at the lake when I had attempted to feed myself! He called himself a "ribika", from Sisa, a land I have never heard of. I am certain I would recall hearing of a land containing people with cat's ears and tails, three hundred years between myself and Heaven or not, and furthermore, why are there no angels that resemble them? It could well be that God will not create them, for there are no humans where he is from and there are tall buildings like the ones here in Meridian, though they lie in ruin. He claimed the sun sank into the sea, and so they were given a second moon. His creation story is rather different, and as always entertaining to hear, but I cannot help but worry about our fate, and God's, for all of the acts of creation seem attributed to the Shekinah instead. I will ask Lucifel when I return, surely he can't be as calm as he seems if he knows this.
After such bleak implications, I was glad when Asato changed the subject, speaking of a "song of the heart", the root of music and poetry, and the love that lifts others up. The conversation that followed only reinforced the low self-esteem he had shown in our first encounter, as he spoke of love as a precious treasure he could never hope to obtain, and thought it strange when others were kind to him. It is a weakness of mine that has led to far too much pain in the past, but I cannot overcome it: when I find someone has such a void in their lives, in their hearts, I cannot help but feel the need to fill it.
Day 19:
I will do as I said I would and explore beyond the door in the ceiling today, as I have very little else to do. I will record my observations here once I am done.
It was dark inside, with the only light from the small window near the top of the house, the room cramped by the slope of the ceiling. There was a mock evergreen tree stored in segments that were clearly meant to attach to one another beside a box with a coil of a long rope made up of fragile-seeming silver ribbons, beneath it a longer rope made of a sturdier green cable decorated with small glass cylindrical domes. These appear to have the same thin structure inside as the glass bulbs on the ceiling of many rooms. I wonder if they serve a purpose.
Behind it was a smaller box, inside a delicate clay figure resembling the inside of a stable. It didn't strike me as odd until I had examined it twice, but the figures inside it were dressed in a way I would expect to see in my own time, rather than similar to the way Lucifel dresses as the couple who once lived here dressed in the pictures. Their clothes were more colorful than I would expect, though this may have been the paint, and the scene itself was odd in a way, depicting a couple bent over a newborn child and three men dressed like nobles behind with gifts. There were grossly simplified angelic figures with identical features in the arch over the human figures. Perhaps this child grew to become a legend, as I can think of no other reason for it to be associated with the divine. Dare I dream of the company of another chosen in Heaven later? Human company without mortality between us would be wonderful, not to disrespect the angels whose companionship I hold dear. I love Armaros and Lucifel, but someone who understands my perspective completely would be a welcome addition to Heaven.
Beside this box was one containing several delicate colored orbs that I learned to be made of glass when I dropped one and it broke, revealing a hollow interior lined with something that shone like gold. The orbs were beautifully painted, predominantly in green, red, and white, and in such a way that the paint seemed to produce its own soft glow in the light. Some were adorned with intricate patterns in gold, many with the face of a bearded elder in a fur hat. I spent some time admiring these, stricken by their beauty and impossible fragility.
After all of these strange finds, the last box was somewhat disappointing, but no less intriguing. It contained several clothes that seemed as if they had not been worn in years, though there was no damage to them. Among them were various styles of hats and gowns in faded blues and grays. At the bottom was a folded gown, carefully-laid in contrast to the crumpled articles I had removed, wrapped in a pliant, transparent sort of paper to protect it from dust. Because it seemed to have such high importance placed on it, I did not remove it from its protective barrier, but instead merely unfolded it, noting how it folded so I could replace it. It was a beautiful gown in white, decorated intricately. Surely, it must have been quite expensive to make, which would explain the lengths taken to preserve it - but why set it beneath all of these other clothes instead of out in the open? I suppose that does protect it from dust as well, or perhaps it discourages thieves.
I returned downstairs to await Armaros's return from his walk so I could show him what I had found, setting aside the rest of the day to gather food and write this entry.
Day 23:
The past few days have been pleasant routine, aside from the occasional unremarkable meeting with another. The weather grows colder, and I suspect we are nearing midwinter. Armaros's map shows there is a forest along the entire northern border of the city. I will wake early and travel there to gather firewood. I saw a large flat cart in the back of a shop; perhaps if I can set a barrier on the back, I can use that to gather enough to last the winter, with some to spare. I know not how large this city is, but it is something I will soon discover.
Day 24 (written on the twenty-fifth day):
Had I known I would be walking over a day's journey either direction, I might have started travel earlier. I write this in the waning hours of the day, having traveled for the length of an entire day and slept for most of this one.
I collected the cart and an empty wooden crate before dawn yesterday and began traveling north. I would like to say there were no interruptions aside from stops for food, but on the way there, I encountered the young troll woman I met when I first arrived. She revealed herself to be blind, seeming to search for something near the wall or rather to find the wall itself, and her cane vanished through it when I directed her to it. I leaned on it with all of my weight and struck it with my Arch, which raised sparks that she could smell, but the wall itself remained completely nonexistent for her. For the people who cannot see it, the wall simply is not there in any way. Such a structure is strange and wondrous, and I will admit somewhat frightening.
She was not willing to hold a conversation, however, and I wanted to press on, so we parted ways. Aside from seeing a two-legged lizard wearing a dress on one of my detours for food, the rest of the journey was uneventful, and I gathered firewood for a few hours before starting the return journey, which would last through sunset.
Day 25:
A store I found food in as the sun was setting also had some light gold-colored jewelry, though not true gold by the weight and feel. I thought of Armaros and the blackened jewelry that had clung to his hair, and the vileness that he had swallowed, and I felt that perhaps a physical return to some normalcy would help his heart as well. I took some bracelets and hair clips and continued on.
I was weary and felt the cold in my bones when I reached what I now feel I can call our home. I took some firewood that did not need to be cut to size and put them on the hearth, using my Arch against the metal instruments there to create sparks with which to start a flame. I knelt there to rest my feet and my eyes, but I must have slept, for I have no clear memory before I was aware of movement beside me and Armaros was there at my side. He helped me to my feet and I felt his skin was cold to the touch. Associated with water as he is, it does not surprise me that he was outside enjoying the chill in the air. He would not open the sack with his jewelry until he had seen me to bed, and perhaps it was fortunate that he had not been distracted by his gift when he did, for he noticed something odd as I lay down. There is a strange marking on my right shoulder, that vaguely resembles a sitting human shape holding its knees with its legs stretched straight up. I had never noticed it before, for when I did not wear my armor it was either too dark to see it or my hair fell over it. It seemed a part of my skin, as nothing disturbed it. Armaros did not seem to recognize it, but it seemed to be doing me no harm, and I was exhausted from my sleepless travel, and even now I can see no reason to fear it. Perhaps that is something to do in idle time: seek the opinions of others on the second level.
With our curiosity sated and our caution proven pointless, Armaros turned his attention to my gift. He seemed revitalized on seeing what I had brought back for him, and nearly crushed me in his embrace. He handled his new trinkets as if they were made of glass, and I could not help but share in his excitement by helping him with the hair clips. It was wonderful to see him in high spirits, and the silent "thank you" on his lips as I set his hair to what seemed its rightful state was more reward alone than I could have asked for. I was right to think they would help him; a treasured possession can be worth more than any gesture of comfort at times.
It was not long before his joyousness ran to concern again, and he urged me to sleep. But when I lay down, he lay close beside me and took my hand in his, and brought it to rest over his heart, telling me without words how much I meant to him. I may as well have been voiceless, myself, for all the good my words could do in return; all I could tell him was that he is a wonderful friend. I feel it is not enough! Armaros has a beautifully pure heart that has endured Belial's mercilessness and all of the vileness that came with it, and I am proud of it beyond any words I can imagine, and very glad to be able to lift it up this way.
Armaros tried to lull me to sleep with comforting touch, and when he kissed my forehead, a thought came to me, one that persists: for the first time in three hundred years, I am safe, as is he. Azazel is not pursuing me, Armaros is safe from the wrath of Heaven and The Darkness alike, this is not a home that I must leave, and with safety and Armaros's kind companionship comes something I had not until now realized I had missed.
I feel at home with my dear friend, and I am happy.
Day 26:
I realize that I seem to be repeating myself. I wrote in my first few days that I was aware Armaros was safe from anything, divine or vile, that would threaten him, but sometimes realizations already made seem to be reaffirmed at times, when a new facet comes to light. It is a beautiful oddity of the human heart, inefficient as I am certain it seems to an angel.
The chill in the air was not for nothing, we woke to a light snowfall. I went out in search of a hooded cloak, for my armor does not provide adequate warmth against snowfall. I have seen snow at times, but not in air that the sun cannot warm enough to melt. The ground was the color of alabaster, and everything around me seemed beautiful and pure. Despite the cold air, I felt I could gaze at the frost-covered trees forever. My search of shops with clothing were fruitless, as the only clothing with hoods I found were coats that could never fit my armor, or short capes that would also never accommodate my armor and would not warm what is exposed in the first place.
I resolved to endure the cold as I was; the lack of any decent solution did not deter me on my search for the Tower, so surely it should not deter me when I am simply leading a life like any other. As I was returning home, I saw a familiar face: Castle, the man who had introduced me to Meridian. He was building a wall of sorts in the snow, and when I asked him what it was for, he told me it was for a mock fight with snowballs. He expected no challenge, but was simply bored. I cannot fault him that, this city rather lends itself to idle time.
Our talk turned to the mysterious wall in the center of the city. He is one of the people here for whom the wall does not exist, and he was able to see someone named Gamzee lean on it, apparently on the air itself, to his eyes. I learned that Sola is one of the natives from this talk. I hope I will be able to speak with her again, for I am curious about this city and wish to find answers. Her powers seem to be far greater than a human's, however, and I still believe her to be something very like an angel.
Day 28:
Though today is a rest day, I'm afraid I have learned some troubling news I feel I must write now. I heard a woman asking for a pair of dragons and a blonde-haired woman named Lucrezia. It seems that people have been disappearing from the city. I should hope that they've simply settled into routine, or that if they're gone, that they've returned to where they belong.
Day 29:
Today has been unusual and worrying. I've learned something new about the nature of this place, its implications more than I wish to entertain.
In the morning, I found a pair of young children, brothers by their faces, wandering lost in the snow. They seemed strangely aloof for their age, and only asked basic questions. As much as I longed to shelter them, I know I would only watch them age and die before me.
But it was who I encountered next that I will remember today by. After our midday meal, I listened to the second level in hopes of learning more about the missing people, and found someone new. He was a man nearly as tall as I, with albino features and clad in strange wooden shoes and a flowing black robe with a bright green pattern. He was asking for information on the city, having discovered the second level quickly. When I approached him, he thought me an angel! I have long harbored the thought that I may not be as human as I once was, for I have survived events that no human should have been able to endure, and the power my son was able to draw forth, my power, which Michael also called the power of God - surely no one who can summon such power is a true human. Methuselah spoke as if he came from my future, and yet Lucifel seemed to have no knowledge of it. Will I become an angel?
Though he could sense my soul, the man claimed to be human. But his voice was full of bitterness when he called me an angel, and I thought he must be a demon. Though I ought to hate him as one, how can I? Further question led to the revelation that he was thousands of years old, and when he seemed afraid on hearing my name I knew he must be from a time closer to my own. He was none other than my great uncle after three generations, Cain the son of Adam. The bitterness I had heard was all too human. For killing his brother, God had cursed him with immortality, and his memory has grown to match.
Immortality as a punishment! God is aware of the pain it brings! Now, as then, I cannot bring myself to dwell on this thought, for this doubt hurts as the presence of vileness.
The God he speaks of is nothing like the one I know exists. He claimed He wished to eradicate free will, the very spirit of which my mission rests on! But when I contested this, he offered the idea that we are from two separate realities. While it eases my mind to think that the ruined world Asato knows, run by the Shekinah and not God, may not be my future, more doubt weighs my heart like a stone when I think of what it might mean for Armaros, that caring for him now may not have an effect on my world and "mine" may be doomed to waste away in The Darkness with no intervention.
No, our memories match too well. Surely, I am from his past and he my future!
It brings a comfort of a sort, to know I have not only the company of someone else who will not die, but a distant kinsman. Cain is family who will not die. But his world is a worrying one, in which the world was flooded in the time of my great-grandson. He told me to swear I would prevent it, and to him I swore to and reaffirmed my mission.
My world will never be his, and I will see to that. I should distance myself from this God-hating ancestor of mine, but he and I share an experience that is comparable to none other, and he is family, immortal family. I cannot hate him.
My words cannot convey what I felt and experienced today, and as the light from the window dwindles, I resign myself to being unable to properly say what happened.
Day 30:
I forgot that I had spoken to the cat with the cloth around its neck during my time as a swan, for my hunger and surprise at meeting Asato in such a form, until today when I met him again. Armaros and I were woken by its loud yowling, and we climbed to the roof to quiet it. It is no ordinary cat, we learned, for he responded to us with human gestures. Though we didn't know what had upset him, we invited him in for a meal before he went home. I wonder who his owner is, and how he came to be this way. Was he once human?
Day 34:
My every encounter with Ashraf is doomed to be trying, it seems. Today I met him on the second level discussing a gathering to share information with Tiriganaq. I felt I should apologize to him, for surely a man who has no belief in souls has experienced something beyond my imagining. Even now, I cannot understand how he can believe such a thing; the mere thought of it is very distressing. Death is trying enough even with the knowledge that the deceased are safe, being judged and sorted into Sheol. How can he bear what pain must come from believing the dead are gone entirely?
I must write on another subject, lest my hand tremble too heavily to write at all.
I learned he is marked just as I am, and he suspects the wall may be determined by our markings. He and I are trapped on the same side, and there are some who may pass freely between the two halves of the city, as well as those trapped on the opposite side. We had a disagreement on, of all things, the nature of what exists as we perceive it, but this argument was resolved quickly, for we are both in pursuit of knowledge. Our shared want for knowledge, however, seemed an impossibility for Ashraf, as he believed my piety should cause me to spurn knowledge. This description of the pious as he knew them worried me, and when the conversation seemed on friendlier terms, I asked if that was truly the way those who call themselves men of God would act, and for a moment I was relieved when he said that he couldn't call them "pious". I thought that surely this meant there were enough truly pious people that he was mistaken when he said they were, but in truth he seemed to say it only because he believed that without God, people cannot truly be pious. Even revealing my true age and the origins of my armor, stating again that I had lived in Heaven and traveled with angels...he would not believe that some power existed beyond us. It is not a battle worth fighting, but it puzzles and hurts me that he so insists that all I have lived for the past three centuries is a delusion.
No matter, I have agreed to spread the word. I should not allow my feelings to be a barrier to learning more of this strange city.