Mir Pathfinder

Neving's Journal

“His words could not be translated by any magical means. It took decades to decode the writings. It seems the primitive dialect that he became accustomed to complimented the primal nature of the magic he controlled. He refers to them as picking at the “threads” of reality, the same way that our magic works. But instead of hiding behind formal phrases and gestures, he has found the root of the power itself. What follows are the translations from scattered pages from Neving Sun Ray."

It was called the Great War. On this world, amatuers in the divine and arcane arts created a gateway between our world and plaane of the Demons. No doubt the mortals here were promised great power. This gateway was different, however. The planet itself seemed to feed it’s power, and the hole became larger and more powerful as more mortals were killed.

The land was being overrun. Entire nations were overthrown in a matter of months. And while I usually do not get involved in these sorts of terrestrial battles, I did not want this planet to be overrun, the same way that I had seen many others.

The tides began to turn, their forces being held at bay with the help of myself and a Solar named Tarim. Even though we were repelling their onslaught, the gate continued to grow, transforming and destorying the planet around it. With Tarim’s help we searched the planes for an answer, looking for anything which would mention, or even hint, at a solution to this gate. Even the libraries of Mnemovore were without aid.

When hope seemed lost, and the gate was about to reach the core of this planet, I found it. Found it is the wrong word, as it has always been there. I had gathered a collection of every known spell and was reading them without end…no food, water, or sleep. Still in my phsycial form, my body fell to exhaustion. In that final moment before sleep took me, I reached it. The one thread that was woven into all spells. Into all things. Tarim recognized this thread as well, and had seen it hidden within his own masters (the “Gods”). This thread wove into reality and unreality alike. It was the One Word.

Without time for contemplation, Tarim and I brought our armies to the forefront of Arad Moor, and the gates to The Abyss. Not knowing what to expect, we both reached out with our power and grabbed the thread, weaving reality into something…else.

The world changed. Even the demons stopped in fear. The Abyss immediately was wiped from our world, and the land itself was ripped from the continent. Mountains raged and broke into the ocean, while the crust of the continent itself was torn asunder. The remaining demons fled to the new island, and our armies prevailed.

But this power was more than I could handle. I was filled with raw energy, and in my attempt to channel that energy elsewhere I tore my right arm from my body. The rest of me was in ruin, and I felt like I had aged a hundred years. It was three weeks before I regained consciousness. No amount of magical healing, even from Tarim, was able to mend my arm to my body.

The entire continent celebrated our victory. But they feared us. They did not accept us among them any longer, and we instead became the object of worship. They said that our new power was greater than the Gods themselves. While I knew these humans had no idea of what they spoke, their words began to go to my head. Tarim, it seemed, was not above this praise either. He did not return to his native plane when his deed was accomplished. Which, according to him, was an unforgivable deed. He did not care. Normally, such an insult would be met by more angels to dispatch the traitor. But it seemed that the Gods themselves feared our new power.

Years passed, and Tarim and I ruled and discussed our plans for the perfect world. We explored and tried to learn to master our new power. That is when they came. Three colossal ships, the like of which I had only heard about when I was an explorer. They turned into pillars of fire that matched the sun for intensity as they fell through the atmosphere. With a cacophonous crash, which could be felt throughout the entire world, the ships landed in our continent. Their landing destroyed cities and send raging tsunamis that devoured the coastline. In the north, the impact released many of the ancient Dragons which had been slumbering for thousands of years. Now, these ships stood as towers in the land and sea…high enough to touch the heavens.

The towers stood as symbols of death and destruction to our world. The terrors that emerged were unlike anything we had ever experienced. It seemed as though all of the terrors of space had been unleashed in one terrible volley.

Tarim and I were completely unprepared. We mobilized what forces we could, but we were being attacked from all sides. And then it came. The day turned to night, and all warmth in the world seemed to be sucked into the blackness that came from above. It’s as if the darkness and nothingness of space coalesced into the embodimient of Emptiness. These towers and horrors we had been fighting were merely the heralds of this…thing. And it came here because of us. Because of the power we had unleashed. We knew that it knew. We could feel it in our thoughts.

The stars blinked out one by one as That Which Comes from Above descended. Tarim and I knew what must be done. The only thing that could possibly save this world was the same power that drew these creatures in the first place.

We sat upon the tallest mountain, high above the clouds, and prepared our Word. We felt beconed to look above us, and could see hundreds of eyes opening. Each eye containing a void so intense, it threatened to suck in your very soul. Unable to wait any longer, Tarim and I began unraveling the thread of this creature. But this time was different. We could feel the Thing pulling start to pull on the thread as well, learning from our own attempts. Tarim and I were far more experienced, and were no match in this game. However, the struggle had accumulated so much raw energy, it was obvious that neither one of us could survive this attempt. The stars began to show again as the Thing was torn apart by the energies of creation. But it was not fast enough. Eye after eye started to close, but we could not hold on to our bodies for much longer. Our own ends in sight, and the creature still descending, we used the last of our strength to transport and bind the Thing to the very earth underneath our feet, as deep as we could send it. The release of energy was catastrophic. The entire summit of the mountain was destroyed, as were our bodies. But, curiously, I was witnessing this event from above, in a location not necessarily fixed. In this one moment I recorded this journal, so that other may know what happened here. My spellbook I scattered as far as I could, so that such power should never be in one place again. As for what I am? I look forward to finding that out.

“Neving has sealed all of his spell-scrolls so that they only may be cast from his hand. We will find a solution”

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