wild-kitsune — Roleplayer Guild

Some said the world would end with a bang; Others, with a whimper.

I would have killed for a whimper.

I have seen the end, and lived through it to tell my tale to the forever stillness of the endless void. It did not end with an earth shattering bang, nor the whimper of my people as they were snuffed out in the night. No great fire swept over the world and burned away all that was impure. No ice age arrived to trap every living thing in an eternal winter. No, in truth all these things would have been preferable. Then it would have been the stuff of legends, that perhaps once future generations would weave into intricate and legendary tales of bravery, with bards of great skill playing their songs of heroes and impossible odds. After all, every people wants to be remembered for their heroes, their legends. No, I have seen the world end; Stood on the precipice as it washed over me, and it came in silence.

Deafening silence.

My name is Pandora, a fanciful name my parents gave me the moment the doctors told them my little heart had begun beating five minutes after being stillborn. I'm told the name comes from that of a mythical woman who's curiosity brought all manner of calamity to the world but, with it, hope. They always did have a sense of humor. Not anymore.

Alas, there is no hope in my chest. I am a scientist by nature, and I have long since acquiesced to the power of mathematics and probability. I am the last remaining of my people, and thus the odds of my survival, of the survival of my lineage, are nil. No god will save me, nor should he if such a being existed. In our hubris we strode into realms beyond our comprehension to play the roles of gods and goddesses. The earth, sea, and sky together were our dominion. We altered the path of nature, and tapped into the very core of our planet. We created miracles.

We created life.

I am compelled by my nature to try and understand where we went wrong. No... that isn't accurate. We made many mistakes in our arrogance, strode forward too quickly without even noticing we were at a precipice. What I really mean is... where was the mistake that triggered the instant extinction of my species? I keep running the forumlas through my head, and the cave I'm calling a home is lined with diagrams and blueprints. The design was perfect, wasn't it? Yet it couldn't have been, or the device wouldn't have broken. Without my colleagues, I have almost no chance of solving this riddle. I will surely take this mystery to the grave with me.

To those that came before, on behalf of my people I am sorry for how we abused the tools you had given us. For those we left behind I, too, must apologize. You will never get to know, never truly experience, a culture founded on ten thousand years of development. The relics we leave behind and the unliving labyrinths still running beneath the soil are barely a fraction of a percent of what we were capable of. What little remains will no doubt confound you as you try and fail to unlock their secrets. You are not to blame, though, for your failures. We left you a world thrown so far back in time that our history may be lost entirely before you are capable of appreciating it.

Grow. Grow and become strong. Watch over the fruits of our experiments and tend to the fledgling species still developing, especially the ones with neither miracle nor claw. Find your path in this world and walk alongside them, and please forgive us for our hubris.

And should you tame the skies and seek knowledge in the earth, know that some things are best left buried. Should you find the core....

These transcribed words are the last testament of the lone survivor of what we have come to call the Elmir, an ancient civilization that long predates our own. The subsequent pages are severely damaged and in varying stages of legibility, and all attempts to repair them, magically or otherwise, have proven fruitless. Of particular interest to historians is the final line in the initial entry, and much discussion has ocurred in attempting to divine the exact meaning of the use of the word core which, in the native tongue of the Elmir, seems to be seperate from their word for "center", implying that perhaps this core is not that of the Czarina but of something else entirely.

Throughout the remaining text there is frequent mention of the great calamity that eradicated the Elmir, the author often taking a regretful tone for her hand in it. From what can be translated, it seems as if the Elmir created some sort of device capable of miracles, but the device malfunctioned and tapped into the collective consciousness of a species so advanced they no longer had a sense of wonder, trapped on a planet they had long since dominated. Their secret innermost desire, whatever it may be, triggered the device somehow. The civilization, and everything they had created save for what lie underground, vanished without a trace.

As for why this lone scientist survived, this author believes....

The book trailed off from there, taking a more opinionated approach before eventually becoming pages and pages of untranslated, highly damaged writing.

Deep in the restricted section of the Adalrich grand library, one could only wonder why such a tome had been hidden away, and yet to the thief brazen enough to violate the strict laws of the Seraphim and sneak into the restricted section, there were more pressing matters to attend to. The floor surrounding the intruder glowed with a faint aura as a spell circle formed at her feet, following her wherever she went.

Not far away, in a secret underground research lab, a similar circle formed underneath Neon and the unconscious Dagger. Simultaneously, the two circles lit up, their targets vanishing with the dimming light of the spell. In an instant they found themselves in the main lobby of Shade's home, where everyone had been gathered save for Hagumi and Torva. A number of the servants were sitting on the floor, runes floating around the circle they formed.

A recall spell.

It had been a long day. A slave trader had been killed. An ally had reincarnated. The restricted section of the Seraphim library was looted, and yet none of this brought them closer to their goal of preventing war. Night had fallen, and with only 2 days left to convince the Council of the Righteous to stand aside in the coming war, it would take a great deal of work to achieve their goals. For now, though, the injured would be tended to, food and perhaps a bit of merriment would be distributed, and they would begin anew the following morning.

In a residence not unlike Shade's, far less merriment was being had as Torva and Hagumi struggled to deal with her father's extreme reaction to their proclamation of love. Although her mother had been far more understanding, the rift that had formed in the family over the issue was impossible to ignore. Once the others had gone to sleep, Torva snuck out of the room Hagumi's mother had provided for him, climbing out of the window and into Hagumi's room. He had assumed he would be forced to sleep in another room, if he was allowed to stay in the house at all, but he and Hagumi had too much to discuss to retire so early in the evening.

Rapping gently on the window, Torva let himself in to find Hagumi sitting on her bed facing towards the door. From his vantage he couldn't tell what sort of expression lived on her pale face, but whatever it was, Torva knew it would only upset him. "Hagumi?" he whispered, closing the window behind him, "What should we do about your father?"

The moon rose high into the night sky, illuminating city of Adalrich in a cool blue hue. In only a scant few hours a new dawn would be rising, its bright rays piercing the darkness and bringing with it new opportunities and greater challenges. They had come so far, lost so much and gained almost nothing in return, save for each other. In many ways, this new dawn was a fresh beginning. A chance to finally find the path forward.

A chance to start over.

A wise man once wrote: “For last year's words belong to last year's language, and next year's words await another voice, and to make an end is to make a beginning." Would this be the year they found a cure? Or would twilight be bathed in the blood of their friends and family like Pandora, the end of a race and an era. Unlike Pandora, though, they still held a powerful weapon, and one they would need to survive the greatest challenge on their journey to date.

Hope.

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