About five days have passed since we left the boats. Reason, be good, Bryyna told us the caverns should be just a day away. The fourth automaton seems to still be in working condition, but it is still covered with spare blankets to prevent ash from falling inside the crevices. I really do think we will be able to make it there. A few of the children have begun to sing songs from our childhoods, and we find ourselves singing along with them.
In the back of my mind, I wonder how we are going to build our society again from some caverns. Bryyna told me about them. She said there was an ancient Tersian settlement there 8000 years ago, recently rediscovered by Bryyna and other University researchers. The caverns are a very large cave system, stretching out across the underbelly of the eastern Rue Mountain chain and opening out near Mureia. It was discovered when a section of the road from Mureia collapsed in a sinkhole nearby a small village named Yiben. As it happened, there was evidence of a relatively large society carved into the cave rock under there, and one of the cave system’s openings was along the foot of this mountain chain we traveled along. Bryyna told me there were multiple mineral springs and hot springs in the area, although some of the shelters for the springs need to be rebuilt, but we should not want for cleanliness or fresh water here.
Their religion, Bryyna said, was based on an understanding of the ‘soul’ that has been a major stepping stone for her research. They believed that the ‘soul’ had its own anatomy, like the structure of a living cell. Cells require particular organelles to ‘live’, such as a nucleus, a mitochondria, or vacuoles. Otherwise, a cell is only a simple, non-living organism, running on one simple program; a single linear strand of DNA.​

“As such, a true ‘soul ’ also requires certain organelles. I shall spare you the expansive list, but it contains concepts such as the Self, the Heart, the Mind, the Channel, and the Amira Well. A ‘living soul’ runs all of these complex ‘programs ’ at once, and at least most of these parts must be present to be considered ‘alive’, just like modern biological requirements of what can and cannot be considered alive. It is this exact distinction of special ‘organelles’ or parts that differentiates our ‘souls’ from the programmed ACCs found in automatons, or even ancient ‘gods’ of the past”.

Bryyna then laughed and said, “That is what my research leads me to believe anyway ”.

“Gods of the past? ” I asked her, uncertain why she brought up such an old fashioned (and may I say silly) concept, but the moment I saw a flicker of something else on her face I became nervous. I remember she hesitated for an instant before answering me.

“The ‘gods’ of the past… were created accidentally by primitive humans who did not yet understand the power of what we call ‘Congregational Programming’. I am sure you are familiar with it, being a fellow scholar, but to refresh you, Congregational Programming occurs when large amounts of people focus their energy into one belief, wish, or goal. In this case as I have stated, it was an ability they were not yet familiar with, and as such it grew and developed, uncontrolled and unhindered, snowballing upon itself while these people unknowingly worshipped their own creation as Divinity. You see, as primitive people will, they began to see acts of nature they did not understand as evidence of something more than themselves. The reason for this, I am certain, was that it was reassuring to them to believe something was out there watching over them. The people felt if they could bring this powerful something on their side with praise and gifts, it would protect them. I believe at that time of discord and uncertainty when humanity was just beginning to find its way, they needed that extra measure of stability that religion can bring. They were not yet advanced or stable enough to do without the community, authority, and fear-filled moral foundation that religion instills into its followers. It was mainly Philosophy and Politics that came to replace religion in humanity later on. But I digress, where was I...? Oh yes, occurrences in nature. You see, my friend, when they saw these strange phenomena in nature, especially in conjunction with other coincidental incidents, it sparked deeper belief. As the belief in such a divinity grew and the word was spread, the Amira in the area was affected by their ever-present will, congregational programming, or ‘magic’. Call it what you will, it's the same thing basically. When this ‘wish’ for a god became strong enough, the inactive Amira around them reacted and activated (as it always does in this type of process) and created a crude but powerful version of our modern day programmed ACCs. And of course, the stronger their belief, the stronger their god. But, like an automaton, it does not possess ‘life’. It does not have a personality, nor fears or hopes. It has no consideration for any abstract concepts like peace, love, jealousy, hate, or even loyalty...”

“But Lady Bryyna, if they were only raised energy as you say they were, how could  a programmed entity show so much hate if it has no concept of hate? Say for example, the cruel god Kithnaw in the old Cudelian myths known to strike such merciless vengeance upon those who opposed him, killing even his own followers? Or gods that were said to be benevolent and merciful, like Thexiouit? That is, if these gods really did exist.” 

(I reflect upon the moment now as I write this entry and I am certain the topic was making her somewhat uncomfortable, despite it being of so much interest to her. However, in my desperate need for a distraction and an insightful conversation, I (wrongfully) overlooked her comfort, had the nerve to blatantly brush off the existence of gods despite the plausibility of her theory, and still pushed her to continue. What was wrong with me...)

“I can assure you, in one form or another, these ‘gods’ did exist. In regards to their reputable personalities, well… This has also been a question of mine for some time, as the subject is hard to study precisely… but as I’ve said, I do not believe gods ever truly possessed any of these human-like traits. Only that they appeared to…” She paused and looked at me. “I promise I will return to the subject of Gods, but before I continue, it is important I ask you something to ease the flow of the conversation we are about to enter. What you know of the flow of Amira in relation to channeling?” 

“The flow of amira refers to how the inactive amira of the Collective is constantly moving all around us, right? And how active amira is constantly weaving new lines of energy flow?  I know that Channelers can use it as a kind of highway to increase the efficiency of their channeling, but... I am sorry, I am a bit rusty on the subject.”

“It’s quite alright, it is more than enough, but allow me to further your knowledge on the matter. As I am sure you know, this flow of amira can either be present already in nature or redirected by altering the original flow of amira, carving a new path with one’s own active amira, so the task at hand must correspond at least somewhat with the current flow naturally present. Otherwise, going against the flow requires a huge amount of energy and time, and it usually ends with a weak result anyway. So the easiest and most powerful channeling is the kind that uses amira flow that is already natural or present. It is the kind of channeling that increases natural force or intensity, like how rowing a boat down a river makes one go faster than the water. And just as rowing a boat upstream is far more difficult, so then must be the kind of channeling that goes against the flow of amira or reduces natural force or intensity. The reason we are able to have the option of altering or going against this flow is because we have the autonomy to consciously chose a more difficult but more beneficial path, and the power to create it. Nature does not have the option of choosing anything other than the path of least resistance, whatever that path may lead to. 
Now then, the reason I brought this up is because it correlates to one of the very reasons followers may perceive their gods acted with a will of their own. One reason might be that people mistook their deity’s automatonic channeling as ‘miracles’ and ‘divine judgement’, if you will.  I say automatonic channeling because these gods, as forces of nature and not truly living beings, cannot chose to go against the flow of amira. Depending on the behavior the god is believed to have, anything from bringing the rain, miraculous healing, to sudden death might all apply. However, they are only able to accomplish these tasks by executing them in the easiest way possible, with the least amount of resistance against the flow of Amira. They are very much like lightning, in that lightning does not care where it strikes, as long as it follows the easiest path of charged ions to the surface or to whatever poor victim that makes its path to the ground  that much simpler. These ‘gods’ can do the same thing, and it can make a god seem very barbaric and cruel, when in truth it is only accomplishing what the faith of their followers designed them to do.”
“The other possibility requires quite a bit more from it’s following, I assume.  Have heard of anthropomorphization? It’s the tendency people have to want to give human traits to what is not human. This is very apparent in children especially, but does not stop at playing pretend with inanimate objects. Throughout the course of our adulthood, most of us humanize creatures, such as a beloved pet. We do this so they can attempt to understand it better and identify with it. **** These human traits translate into the ‘program’ of the entity, and so they act on it, but these emotions and traits are not genuine. They are just following their design and acting according to the faith of their believers.”
My mind flashes back to how Somin treated TOD, the automaton we met on the road to Rue. For a moment my heart sinks as I remember my sweet son’s smiling face as he played on the large automaton’s shoulders and I force myself to return to listening to Bryyna. Then, I had a realization that I do not believe Bryyna quite expected me to have.
“So theoretically…what if you were to somehow give one of these ‘gods’ of the past the spiritual organelles to possess life?”

“... what indeed? Anyway, my friend, I believe I have given you enough to ponder over for a while. I do hope you tell me what theories you come up with at dinner.”

She patted my shoulder with a smile and walked away. She did not seem at ease while talking about it. Perhaps she was saddened that she could no longer complete her research anymore. While I stored this conversation in my ADC, I left to help a young girl carry her pack. I hope Bryyna does not think low of me now… but she is right; this conversation really did leave me with a great deal to occupy my thoughts with.
    ~V

Bryyna told me I should write to keep my mind busy, and I find it does soothe my soul during the brief intervals in which we rest. Alas, would I if I could only continue to write during the march, but it is difficult to write while walking even under normal circumstances, and near impossible in this choking ash and driving blizzard, even with a Solar Crystal’s light to see by. All of this becomes even more difficult while carrying the weight of survival… and without my son. It is still so hard to accept his death. He was the only family I had, and I loved him dearly. He may not have been my son by blood, but he might as well have been… I called out for Somin to eat without realizing it during dinnertime. When my mistake dawned on me, I nearly collapsed into tears, reminded that he would never respond again. I was so thankful when a few of the refugee men and women came to console me.

This is why we need to support one another… Collective knows we do not wish to leave anyone behind. It is ingrained into us to be there for one another in times like this, though most of us have never crossed paths in the broad expanse of the University before… How strange is that? Wonderful, but strange. And I sense a change within me, despite my own trepidation. I feel a push toward the uncertainty and risks of the future; a faint sense of calm determination. I see it in the others as well. Bryyna’s speech has clearly had its intended effect upon her people and their morale. How odd it is that our attitudes have changed so quickly… I wonder if our ancestors were like this so long ago, so easily swayed by words. We have something to believe in again... although we have no method of reaching anyone to tell them of our complications... I wonder if the other Provinces have begun a relief response for Lo’or... Will they reach them in time? I suppose I should refrain from thoughts like these. I just hope none of the refugees with familes at the University are brooding about it, thoughts of despair are toxic, I should know.
​
    ~V

**
I have lost count of how many times one of us have collapsed in fits of hopelessness, but this time seemed to be the last straw. He launched himself into the snow, screaming that he could not go any further. We began to panic and some tried to tackle him to cover his mouth. They desperately groped at him with an overwhelming need to keep him silent, as the last thing any one wanted was another avalanche. That's what they said at least. It should be common knowledge at this point that the earthquake released most if not all possible avalanches.
We are not in our right minds, I know that almost better than anyone. Nothing is common or normal now. Our minds seem to have warped and changed, causing us to make excuses for our troubles and point the finger at eachother to blame SOMETHING for our misery.

Finally, Bryyna found it necessary to use her own superior channeling power to keep them at bay. This terror has begun to affect us all (this has become painfully obvious), and Bryyna is fighting to retain control. I can feel pangs of fear swelling up, an anxiety that has begun to overwhelm me. Perhaps this whole endeavor is hopeless. Our path to Mureia is completely cut off and our carrier automatons have broken down. No one from the other provinces will know what became of us now. They will assume us to be dead. Temperaments run high, and fear and uncertainty plague everyone amongst us; in part of our situation, in part of one another. What are we supposed to do? Is all of this for nothing? Will we all die out here in the ash and snow, with no shelter or fresh water? Will one of the other gifted channelers unhinge and lash out at us, as I almost did? Every moment we wait for these people to collect themselves is another moment our children and family members are suffocating, another degree of temperature lost, another step not taken towards the shelter we are all hoping actually exists.  None of us know where these caverns are except Bryyna. How much further are these caverns if they even exist? Will we even get there at all? We are all wondering this; you can see it in the eyes of everyone behind their breathing masks.

And then Bryyna climbed upon a drift of snow and ash, and called for attention. Although her voice was muffled by her mask, she spoke nonetheless clearly, with a fierce determination while seeming to echo our very concerns:
 

“...But despite losing your lives, you are not dead. Heaven still pumps through your veins, carrying with it the unifying bond each of us share through the Collective. You are members of a society at the peak of human ingenuity and worldly understanding. A society of oneness and charity whose people have even overcome the need for war, slavery, or deception. Never forget that. Certainly, you breathe unfamiliar air and walk on an unfamiliar bed of gray and black.  You have lost your homes, your children, and your livelihoods. As I said, some would indeed proclaim that you have 'lost your lives'. This, however, is as much as I will let you lose. For, despite all this, you are all alive, and I intend to keep you alive, despite whatever hardships may come. I will not promise you an easy life, such as the one you lived before, but follow me, and I will provide you with shelter, with food, and with water. Most importantly, I will provide you with hope, with friendship, and with council. For hope in these times can be more valuable than even food or water. It is hope that creates the survivor, hope that fills a belly with even the smallest portions, and hope that carves a path through the largest drifts of ash and snow. I promise you, we will survive this cataclysm. On the very first dawn of spring, after the skies clear and the sun rises with warmth once more, you will be the people of the 6th Era. No matter how long it takes, or how many times our destination may change. Despite how hopeless the situation may seem, I vow and swear to keep you safe, upon the life-giving Amira in my being. Hold me to it, because nothing in this world means more to me than this oath. I will do everything I can to keep it.”

Addendum: I stored every word into my own ADC. She is truly remarkable... I do not believe we could have ever chosen a better, more incredible person to lead us. I have some amount of hope again, after almost losing every ounce I had. Remarkable. She is absolutely remarkable.

~V

((Possible PTSD Trigger Warning))

Last night I woke from a distressing dream. I feel like I woke from two, actually, one inside the other. Or I think I did. I cannot remember the details of the first, only that whatever happened in it had already instilled quite a bit of fear in me as I woke into the second. As I awoke from it, I believed with absolute honesty that I was fully conscious, and I saw with shock that ash was falling from the sky heavier than it had at the University. I tried to yell an alarm, but he shout was muffled and weak, and the ash covered me in a thick blanket. I remember panic filling me at a horrible rate as I tried to shout again, but it was only slightly more audible than the first. My mouth would not obey me; the ash was all the way up to my nose and seemed to be somehow cementing my mouth shut. I was filled with terror and dismay as I looked from face to face around me, and I realized I was too late to shout an alarm anyway. All around me were the frozen, screaming corpses of everyone in the refugee group, including Bryyna. They looked like the gruesome bodies we saw at the village along the river; grasping at their throats, eyes bulging with panic, reaching for me to wake me up, but stopping just short. It was like something had turned them all to stone, much more like terrible statues than corpses. I tried to move my arms so that I could escape, but it was no use.
 
Then I heard weeping, and I somehow turned to look. It was Somin next to me buried in the ash. He muttered that he didn't want to die, and begged me to hold him because he was scared. He pleaded with me, and murmured through his sobs that he could not move. I knew he had already died once, but... I must have been mistaken all this time... somehow. What did it matter? Even if he had been dead, he was here now, and I could not lose him a second... or third time, if you can count the experience at the cliff. I wanted to comfort him, but still, my words remained muffled and weak. Frustrated and desperate, I was overwhelmed with a powerful urge to try to move again. I gave it everything I had, my lead limbs twitching with effort. In my mind I was pounding on invisible walls, screaming, flailing my arms, cursing, whatever violent and desperate actions came to mind. I terrified myself with my own wild acts, some small part of me begged me to calm down, lest my moment of insanity cause another outburst of Amira, but my anguish was so overpowering that no amount of begging could stop it. I was like a wild animal; out of control entirely, the energy around me thrumming like a giant heartbeat. 
 
As I was just about to break through the invisible walls of my mind, everything went abruptly dark and quiet. It was not a peaceful quiet. I knew this darkness. I had seen it in dreams in the past... a terrible reminder of the moment I let Somin fall to his death. As soon as I recognized it, I felt the hair on my body prickle from the ebbing energy as I softly pleaded with myself. Don't make me go through this again... please do not do this to me again. But as the earth shook beneath me, I felt a familiar presence leave my hand.

And then his faint scream.

​The thrumming energy that had temporarily pulled back suddenly rushed in like a tsunami, enveloping me in a roaring wave of anguish and desperate power, shattering the wall in my mind as I shouted and jolted up. Somin, the ash, and the statues were all gone. I was shaking violently, gripping my arms so hard my nails dug into my skin, screaming "NO! NO! NO!"
 
Plenty of concerned voices rose from the sleeping forms around me, and Bryyna was there to immediately take my hand. At first I screamed and snatched it away, but she spoke softly to me, telling me to let it out slowly, that my Amira was still controllable and nothing would happen if I just listened to her. So I wept and I wept. It was like waves of emotion hit me one at a time; fear, relief... and loss. I was still completely disoriented from the realism of the dream. I desperately wanted to believe my son was still right there, that he was within my reach. When I found he was not... that is when I wept that hardest. It was this big, open, gaping hole inside that was trying to swallow everything up into it. This terrible, terrible void more painful to acknowledge than the ash covering me. It was more awful than the bodies, the earthquake, the volcano--  I have lost myself in that void... The whole world could swallow me up today and it wouldn't shake me as much as this void does. I know it. As much as I want to deny it, I cannot feel anything anymore like I used to... I feel like... like I died that day along with him; falling from impossible heights with 10 agonizing seconds to the ground. If you could read my words, my boy... would you cry for me? Do I sound selfish? I'm sure I do... Has my existence become so damned pitiful that I have disappointed you? I'm sorry... If this is true, I am so sorry. Even if this cataclysm ended... and all of this went back to normal... it will never truly go back to normal. We all know that. We've all been marked. I will live every waking moment of my life in fear of sleep. I will exist in fear of the people around me, in constant anger... in perpetual torment... seeing your smile everywhere I go. Hearing your voice, seeing your ghost in the corner of my eye or right in front of me… I should have gone with you. This bleeding wound inside is never going to heal, is it? 

Forgive me, I have fallen into rambling... We have to march again now... I don't want to be near anyone at all right now. I don't know how I did not hurt anyone, but I am afraid they'll all be afraid of me... Oh Collective, please keep my little boy. I cannot handle this torment any longer.
   
~V

Researcher Annotation:
This is a bad situation, moreso than it appears to be. When survivors lose hope in their chances of survival, the chances of success plummet drastically. Always.


​

​The third automaton finally collapsed, along with our hope. We are wandering through the snow and ash now, trudging behind the tracks of a single remaining automaton. Like us, it carries much more weight than is healthy for it. We had to abandon some more supplies, but this time there’s no guarantee we will get them back. There are no landmarks to hide them by, and the snow and ash will swiftly cover up whatever trail we do make. The children tried to help by making a snowman, but that was all any of us could do. We had to leave much of our supplies for building, but we kept the strange food of dried meat and berries with us. Food would be scarce out here, and who knew how long we would need it for. We will definitely have to cooperate and improvise now, if we will be able to cooperate at all.

~V

​

It feels like it has been two hours since we stopped last, but I feel it was too soon. It feels like an itch inside I cannot scratch, no matter how much my feet hurt, they want to walk more. I need to walk more.
    ~V

A Word From The Storyteller!

Hi everyone!
I just want to thank you for being supportive of me, my work, and the journal!
Also, special thanks to those of you who left surveys, likes, and even a comment on the journals!
It really means the world to me!
I hope you'll continue to support me in my venture to have the journal published and illustrated!

I've been working on the world of this journal since 2009, but this particular apocalyptic scene is is actually more of a prequel that took me 3 months to conceive and piece together. Most of it consisted of tying up loose ends and solving problems left by the original story, as well as creating a society and its technologies so that I could obliterate it.

There's actually quite a bit of research that went into this story;  it is probably an inch and a half thick in a stack. I am going to be periodically posting some of the research that went into the story. (Very few things in this were done without a reason or without a great deal of thought.) So, if there is something you would like me to talk about, just place your questions in the comments below, or post them on my Facebook page by clicking the f icon below!

THANK YOU AGAIN!!

This is the second time that young man stopped walking and started crying uncontrollably. The ashen mask on his face and the darkness of the ash-choked sun, makes it hard to determine his age. I figure he could be anywhere from 18 to 30-seasons-young. Nevertheless, Bryyna did not stop the march and left to the back of the group yet a second time to console him. The rest of us are becoming more anxious, and we have slowed down to wait for her. She had given us orders to keep walking directly towards the gap between two mountains in the distance, but I have grown uncertain which gap it was we were marching towards. Quite a few of the refugees are restless, despite welcoming the frequenting breaks. Their minds seem to drift further away. I can only imagine what they are thinking about... Perhaps, they would rather focus on putting one foot in front of the other, rather than let whatever depressing thoughts they have plague their unsettled minds while resting. Perhaps, they are struggling not to let the seed of hatred for the crumbling young man grow roots. A few people show signs of primitive anger and begin kicking and spitting into the snow. One even begins outwardly growling…

**I am not the only one feeling this… boiling, twisting, gnawing urge to stamp, prod, and cry. Is it from fear? Anger? Sadness? I cannot tell. Truly, Bryyna, who are we fooling with this optimism? Our society’s illusion of advancement has slowly dawned on me. We thought we were so great, so perfect… when in reality, we set ourselves up to fail. Our society has slowly made us dependent on peace and prosperity, never taking into consideration what might happen if that were all to fall to pieces. The stress and anger that rose up from such an upheaval was never anticipated. Could this turn into the beginnings of war? Is this how wars began, with anger and fear? Our people have not had Wars for over two millennia. By the Hand, I cannot even remember when the last war was. We have been so peaceful… Our people are not used to hating each other. We are not used to being hungry. We are not used to survival. We were used to having everything that we needed, and now that that is not being provided it is hard to find any motivation to continue living.

Reason be good... we have not had to endure suffering to such a degree for 2300 years, since the beginning of the 5th Era... but now…will we lose our minds because of this…? If we lose our intelligence and our willingness to cooperate… By the Hand, the weeping and angry grumbling sounds of the other refugees are beginning to echo in my ears… I would never have been able to even imagine such sadness and fear before the disaster… This is too much.**

    ~V
   

**
Bryyna, calmly and simply as always, announced this morning that we will be heading to the Tertian Caverns, about three days of a walk from where we are. We are out of the heavy ashfall now, she said, but now our main priority was shelter, and hopefully a path to Mureia. We are just finishing a breakfast of pemmican with forced conversation, and will be leaving as soon as we are done.**

    ~V

Addendum: We discovered before we left this morning that someone had gone off by themselves last night... A few minutes was all it took to find his footprints in the snow... that lead to the edge of the cliff. Reason help me... I tried to stop them, but in that single instant, I was bombarded with with a thousand vivid and clear images of Somin's death; fabrications my mind created of his contorted screaming face as he shouted my name and fell over the edge of the University's wall, disappearing from my life forever. I heard my son scream in my mind louder than I could have believed possible, reliving that awful, terrible moment I had been trying so damn hard to bury. Finally I saw him on that cliff, I swear I did! He was so real, his reader crystal even glinted on his neck in the dim light as I felt him rip his hand free of mine (though I am not certain when I had taken hold of it). I even felt the slight impact his feet made on the ground, which grew more into a thunderous shockwave with each step towards the cliff, making my ears ring with the overwhelming sound. Finally, he looked at me with an eerie, uncharacteristic apathy in his dull brown eyes. A powerful sense of dread and panic enveloped me, but just as it happened the first time, I was unable to stop him; paralyzed by panic as he stepped over. A scream boomed through the mountain pass, although I could not be certain if it was his... or mine. 

I cannot recall exactly what happened after that from my own memory... I woke up in the ash and snow, a cloth over my mouth and another body pinning me to the ground, shouts of "Go help that one over there!" was slightly audible over the ringing in my ears. I tried to ask what happened but my voice was gravelly and inaudible. I discovered later that I had ripped my mask off, screamed, and almost jumped over the cliff, but a woman named Taethra had tackled me down before I could. I wasn't the only one who reacted strangely to the man's suicide. There were others who had reacted similarly, screaming and fainting. Eventually a landslide was triggered on the other side of the canyon. We are assuming it was because of the shouting... but I am not convinced. The earthquake from weeks before should have triggered the most sensitive of slides and avalanches. However, I am afraid to voice my own theory. I do not wish to be treated as a monster. Whether it was my fault or the fault of another channeler's power, it will not matter. They know I am a channeler, they will assume it was me, since I have done it before. 

​

​**
To make matters so much worse, we found the pass to Mureia was blocked by an avalanche of snow and ash three meters deep. We made camp there tonight, near the foot of the avalanche as Bryyna assessed the situation away from the rest of camp. I do not know whereabout she is exactly, but I hope she is figuring things out... I know she is.**

    ~V


Addendum: Most everyone has finally fallen asleep at this hour... I need to sleep too, but I cannot. It's overwhelming, the cranking and twisting withing me. Much as I wish I could pretend to be confident, or even any measure of mentally sound, I'm not. None of us are, but what do I care of the sadness of others? When have I ever cared?! Who among us have truly given a-- No, how could I think that... of course we care, but what is there to go back to?! Why should we care if none of us will survive anyway?! My mind is screaming in pain, and my whole body feels like it is pulsing with conflicting and churning emotions in such a way that I might explode all over again!


Wait, what nature of stupidity are these lies I am weaving? Oh Reason, what is wrong with me? When did I become so selfish? This is OUR survival, not just mine! There are families who are struggling to hold onto one another, an I am brooding about my own self... what a destructive mind I have! I feel I am barely keeping myself from another episode of destructive automatic channeling. I need to calm down and ground myself now... Let' see... my instructor in Primary once taught us something. She said we are part of a complex organism called 'Society'; built from individuals whom, like cells, were originally solitary beings long, long ago who lived only for their own survival. The individuals who worked together achieved greater results, and so evolved to become a collective force far greater than themselves. We cannot live without the organism. We are the one, and the one is all. We take into ourselves the ideas, values and beliefs of the collective organism that have been created over thousands of years of tradition and contingency, yet we are allowed relative individual autonomy while acting as a whole to support the survival of society's organism... One big... dying organism. And if an organism experiences stress... the whole system suffers as well. That's just how it goes.


If in another world, we were truly, completely unconnected and were able to react individually and take care of ourselves, it is possible we might have suffered less... but we need each other's support for numbers to survive. Individuals acting on their own in a situation like this... truly could kill more than it would save... but if none of the cells are prepared for the stress, they'll break down and die. It is the same way with people... so, I cannot justify those selfish thoughts... They are a cancer to the organism.

​It has been nearly a week, I assume, since leaving the University and we are finally leaving the boats to head for the road east to Mureia, although we begin with some trepidation. Upon attempting to leave the boats, one of the older carrier automatons was found to be dysfunctional and was unable to even leave the boat, seeming to be completely jammed. The stronger individuals were asked to carry much of the supplies the automaton would have carried, and the nonessential items were left hidden under one of the overturned boats. Bryyna told us to keep walking as much as possible and stop as few times as our bodies can allow. She told us that we still had control over the situation as long as we did something to save ourselves and our families, and right now that something was 'walk'. While Bryyna’s speeches have always been a source of inspiration, in some dark corner of my heart, I am anxious. **Having to leave behind an automaton is very unusual in normal circumstances, and a small amount of uneasiness about the performance of the other three automatons crept up and screamed distantly in the back of my mind. I hope my worry is unfounded…**
​
    ~V

​I am still unsure how this could be allowed to happen to us.  For some reason, I feel as if there has been some sort of mistake… or like some sort of law that declares the eternal prosperity has been violated… we had worked so hard to reach the pinnacle of human existence, how could it be taken away? How could this be allowed? The harsh-voiced woman in the seat next to me would not stop mumbling about the return of angry gods. Before, anyone might have dismissed her statement and kindly corrected her, but… now I am not so certain… maybe this woman is right. However, the thought of my innocent son being the consequential victim of some returned god’s tantrum makes me angry and nauseous and I had to excuse myself and move to the front of the boat to speak with Bryyna, who has been our pillar and our counselor.  The woman we are following hesitates, and then smiles behind her cloth mask, telling me that if these gods exist, they are just as surprised as we are at this turn of events. Of course, as soon as I was about to receive deeper council, another refugee cried out and kindly, motherly Bryyna dutifully moves across the boat to his aid. I feel dejected when she leaves my conversation to see to the wails of the young man. I feel immediately guilty for thinking so selfishly, but the health of my mind felt brushed aside… this is a strange feeling. Perhaps this is part of how the disaster affected my ‘soul’. I suppose, if I felt the same after such trauma, then I should be worried… still, it seems to fester in my mind a bit… hopefully, I can just forget about this and focus on surviving… if we do not keep stalling for the little brat, that is.
 
**Addendum: I almost directed my channeling in a destructive, primitive, and automatic fashion. Had the situation been different (had I not just been though the worst horror I could have ever imagined), being out of control like that would have been one of the instances I have been most terrified in my life. The water next to one of the boats exploded and almost toppled it, along with the 14 people and the carrier automaton on board. Bryyna spent what felt like hours as we drifted, consoling me and telling me everything was alright. I was worried that the stressful situation had caused me to lose focus and control of my Amira. Bryyna confirmed to me that it had, but that it was not my fault, and that it was a natural thing we were going to face. She was already coming up with a plan to help all of us with this problem, so we should just leave it to her and not worry. Bryyna later told me I was welcome to follow her as she counseled each person, and that she held nothing against me, or any one of the other gifted channelers that followed, for almost losing control. She said the most important thing was to count to 10, and it would all be okay. Such a simple thing, in my opinion, but I will readily take her word for it.**
    ~V

Researcher Annotations:
I have heard of a city that was uncovered in the province of Tyr, near Lupine,  that was buried under 80 ft of ash. They had been carving a new system of homes into the rock when they found bodies; warped and screaming in their deathbeds of compact ash. I think this is what could have happened to those people.

​Volcanic ash is not like normal ash. It is practically pulverized rock and glass.
​

**
​It has been three days since my last entry... and it pains me to describe the sight we have just witnessed in one of the villages along the river. Half of the town almost seems to be enchanted by a sleeping spell, frozen in time for all eternity, similar to fairy-tales from my youth. The other half seems to have passed while awake, *some with eyes full of fear, grasping at their throats, some covering their mouths. There are children huddled in doorways, parents clutching their families, and pets on their backs with their mouths gaping at the sky. Bryyna reluctantly told us that these people had died from inhaling the ash for a prolonged period. The ash had mixed with the fluid in their lungs and formed a type of cement, suffocating them from within. Those who were inside passed out from the other toxic gases the ash brought with it and died in their sleep.* This, she said, was the fate she had warned us about, and the reason wearing the masks was so important.

We did not have time to deal with the bodies, so we took what supplies we could and climbed back into the boats. We tried to make as much distance from the village as possible.
    ~V

The plan is to head as far down the river as possible away from the heavier ash fallout, and then take the road east to Mureia. We packed up the pemmican, some silver, 20 bags of rice, some tools, blankets, furs and skins, solar crystals, firewood, four carrier automatons, and an assortment of other supplies into 10 boats. Forgive me for not listing all of it. Keeping lists is not one of my coping mechanisms… that was an attempt at a joke… to a book. Oh, Reason, what has become of me…

Walking through the arch gates at the bottom of the University wall forced me to confront the many unclaimed and unidentifiable bodies that had fallen from the wall... I looked across the broad expanse of the foot of the arches, and although they were now buried under almost 20 cm of ash and snow, I knew Somin was among them. The smell was not as bad as I was afraid it would be, but I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and the pain of my situation crashed into me like a motorcoach all over again.
​
It is clear Bryyna either had not anticipated this to happen, or she did not want us to worry about the possibility. I am sure that ashfalls are impossible to predict… Bryyna is trying to keep spirits up and is singing us songs, but the reality of our situation is finally hitting us; we are not waiting for the fallout to end. We are waiting to die. Our society is crumbling, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop a volcano.  
    ~V

Researcher Annotation:
15cm= 6in

​Out of 1,500,000 people... only 40 people could leave?
​

It has been over two weeks. Bryyna came to us today… and told us we would have to leave the University. The ash has fallen 15 cm, and the snow has fallen more. How could we even think of leaving? A few of us objected and said it was suicide to leave, but Bryyna disagreed. All the plants and animals have died. It had dropped 20 degrees and was only going to keep dropping, the air was not going to get any cleaner. What made things worse was that the aura masks project had failed, and so far, we only had enough reinforced respiration masks for 40 people, so we spent the rest of the night deciding who would go and who would stay. Bryyna would be leaving another scholar in charge to keep those who remained calm and collected, and Brynna would have to come back for the rest after we found a safe place. I volunteered to go with her. We leave in two days. Bryyna is calm and collected like always, but the news gave us more than a little apprehension.
​
    ~V

It has been getting colder and harder to breathe. They have had to pass around rags to place over our nose and mouth, but we all still felt hopeful. We have been putting silver into water, Bryyna says it has antibacterial properties that can keep the water drinkable.  Our food supply is going strong, since we all decided to follow Bryyna’s advice and ration ourselves. So far, we are doing well.
    ~V

The cloud of ash has reached us, and the sun is a blood red. It is growing colder as the sun grows blacker, and the thin mountain air is not making breathing any easier. We cannot go outside without protection over our nose and mouth, and our eyes if we can find it. Bryyna says that this protection is extremely important. I wish she would tell us why, but I am sure she has a good reason for it. Around 50 channelers and engineers have been working overtime to develop some type of mask against the ash using old projects from the archives. I have heard the most promising one so far is a mask using experimental Amira aura technology. They were intended to be used as a type diver’s helmet, they said, but it was never completed since its creator passed to the Collective.  Others were recreating a simple facemask, using designs from the 4th Era (4E) when people used similar masks to endure dangerous work environments. Tremors are still rumbling through the university every now and then, and stone from cracked walls and pillars fall to the floor. Bryyna has made herself rather scarce except during mealtime, or when she is giving specific instruction as to how to cook the meat the shepherds brought in. I heard them call it Pemmican, and it is supposed to be nothing but dried meat and fat, but it is allegedly able to keep for years. Bizarre!
​
         ~V

I have been keeping to myself, trying not to think about all the eyes that could be watching me; judging me. I know the painter, Noba, keeps looking over at me… I am sure he is wondering how I can be so pitiful… I do not care. How could I care about something as trivial as breaking social order when I have lost… when I have lost my little boy. That is what should matter to me right now… but I see I am selfish by nature, and can only consume myself with how pitiful I am. What kind of parent lets their child slip from their hand to their death…? One thing I have noticed about Bryyna is how tall she seems to stand, despite being a normal 180 cm tall. She has an air about her of something akin to regality, an air that firmly but gently calls for obedience and respect. I would guess at her age, but I have never possessed much of a sense for guessing. She says she is one of the members of the Council, and that she would take responsibility for our well being. (Rumors said it had been her idea to split the scholars into groups to take care of the frightened citizens, because she knew the people looked to them for guidance). She is explaining the situation to us. I will listen to what she has to say before continuing to write. It is only polite.
​
Bryyna explained simply and calmly that a cloud of volcanic ash was headed our way, and that the plan was to wait through the fallout in the University’s strong walls, but that she would need our help to take care of us. We dutifully obliged. She explained the known dangers of volcanic ash, and the unfortunate reality that many crops and animals would not survive. On the subject of starvation, she replied,
 
**“You may continue eating as you have every day. If you worry of starvation, do not eat more than the share you are given and food will last us all much longer. Should you choose to ration yourself, the self-discipline you will gain will prove to be a useful mental tool in the days to come, I assure you. However, first we will have to work together to gather what food we can from the animals and plants around the university.”**
 
Afterwards, she answered any questions we had regarding what we should do to survive the fallout and gave us tasks to be completed daily, and reminded us that she wished for all of us to be present and social during meals, like a family. We were to look out for one another now.
​
    ~V

Researcher Annotation:
It is very, very possible that this is just a misspelling of Ra'gaev, which is the name of the first Il'li 1200 years ago. 300 years after this journal was written. Either this was a common name, or she has been alive for a very long time.
​

Our scholar arrived to our section on the third tier, and introduced herself as Bryyna Ragev. Oh, reason preserve me, it is the woman from before, the scholar with the smooth scalp who was consoling us immediately after the earthquake. I feel somewhat guilty for my errant behavior before. It is not healthy to keep emotions trapped inside, and I knew that when I ran away from her comfort. I am certain she saw me then. I heard others muttering about my strange behavior as I walked by, so she would have been blind not to have noticed, too. I want to duck away somehow and hide… I feel so small. By the Hand, I hope she does not recognize me.
​
    ~V

**
​I have been weeping heavily. Though, the sobs seem empty as if it is another self, separate from me, who sheds my tears. The party has finally returned from the bottom of the valley to us. I can only imagine how long it must have taken to deliver the news to every corner of the University, but I still feel some amount of impatience, which I feel ashamed for. The poor man who told me the news had blood all over his boots and hands, and his face looked sunken and drawn. It was… it must have been as hard to convey the scene to me as it was for me to imagine. And it is even harder to accept. They’ve estimated over 200 bodies lie at the bottom, but did not have the time, or ability, to identify them. However, the survival of a 9-springs-young boy who possessed no channeling ability...  and with almost 10 seconds to reach the bottom… it is impossible. Reason, preserve me, I cannot remember what could have possibly given me the notion that he could have survived.
​
They told me that a fraction of the victims possessed the ability to use various specialized channeling to somehow break their fall and walk away, but— My Somin… I have nothing of Somin’s except for this little ADC. This little, unused crystal. It is a bittersweet trinket to me now. He even had a Reader Crystal embedded in the back of his neck like everyone else at 7-seasons-young so that he could use the ADC, read texts and histories stored in a Codex, and communicate with transmissions across the span of the continent. For those who were not born with the gift to channel like I was, like 5% of our society was, these Reader crystals were supposed to be their link to the broad span of possibilities offered to us through Crystal Amira Technology… but despite all this, I never truly assumed he was going to use this ADC for its intended purpose.

Such a special boy he was… he always preferred physical books to Codices and ADCs. He always told me how much more comfortable he was with physical pages, (how he would have loved the library’s hidden book rooms…) and that it was hard for him to concentrate on the texts in his mind when he accessed a Codex crystal. But oh, how he loved the way it sparkled, the way they separated light into rainbows, the way stored information glinted and blinked within their structured facets. I remember when I first gave it to him, he marveled at it for hours. I never truly looked at the glitter and sparkle of an ADC before he came into my life… and even until now— I suppose that members of our society— no, that I myself took their presence for granted… but now I--

Oh, Somin, my dear boy… I should have paid closer attention to your ideas, and to the beautiful way in which you looked at the world. I am sorry I refused to see it, and I regret it all the more now that everything is gone… I believe you saw the tools of our society the way our founders had; with fresh eyes, full of wonder and acceptance. Can you ever forgive me for not being the parent you needed, my beautiful boy…?

    ~V

The council of the University is assigning scholars to small groups of frightened people scattered across the University’s tiers. Ours has not arrived yet, but we expect an arrival soon. I am having a hard time being in my own body right now. *We received word that the earthquake from two days before has unlocked an even more deadly fate for us… it seems to have triggered a massive volcanic eruption in the north, which blew out all but two northern settlements, which… explains the persistent tremors. We also seem to have lost contact with those surviving settlements about half an hour ago. The aftershocks from the earthquake are continuing to cause fear and panic out here in Rue, but thankfully any avalanches seem to have been caught by the barriers cut into the mountainsides around the university…*

By the Hand, I feel as if I keep drifting in and out of despair and denial. As of now, it is as though I am in a very vivid dream... as if none of this is real. The notion that this wretched experience should be nothing but a mistake lingers hopefully in my mind. Is this really the end of the world, or was it just an anomaly of some kind? Could my son by some miracle—  

By the Heaven in my veins! I feel as if that thunderclap should have cost me multiple years off my life... I am grateful it was not another of the earthquake’s aftershocks… Oh, Reason, the memory is too fresh, damn it all. It looks as if a storm has rolled in… As if more noise and terror is all we need from nature’s most bountiful hand! I should probably stop writing for now. None of my sentences are making any coherent sense to me.

~V

The university’s atmosphere has not improved. There University has acquired something of a Kuutite funeral quality to it. It has become somewhat of a pastime for me to observe the ways the other people responded to the disaster (perhaps so I could spare myself from my own). Some are screaming and wailing, and some are just staring at the wall. There was a man whom I must have scared half to death with a simple cough as he walked past me.  One group of people have become irritable, which is causing a great deal of anxiety, and then here I am, distracting myself. I do, however, feel a small pang of guilt in my heart for doing something as hypocritical as this. I’ve been afraid to speak at all, …but…  still, it is amazing how so many people with the same experience could have such drastically different reactions, but perhaps this is not the proper time to be intrigued by the suffering of others… I am sure there are many of us who were traumatized by the earthquake, and that should be enough for me. Perhaps I should do some research to keep myself busy in a different way.

The library is rather busy, at least more than I expected it to be after something like this. Many of the council members specifically are down there, browsing Codex crystals and paper books alike, debating on what to do and researching the occurrences that have transpired. Paper books, even in this library. Somin will be so exci—…ah…

**
Anyway… I did some research on earthquakes in the Library, but my findings only filled me with more unease. There is no record of aftershocks lasting for over a few hours in even the worst situations, let alone a whole day… I think I will attempt some form of sleep.
​
         ~V

​Researcher Annotations:
None

**
​A party was sent to the bottom of the valley to search for remains of those who fell from the arches, but... his scream as he fell from the University’s wall. By the Hand, the cries of children will never be as soothing as they used to be... I suppose I should give up on the notion that Somin could have survived that fall… but I need to know! I need to see him for myself before I will believe it. Is that strange for me to think that? It might be… but maybe there is a chance he is down there, crying and broken or unconscious… Oh, Reason, I cannot bear to think of it any longer but it consumes my being… This uncertainty is worse than facing death…
    ~V

One of the scholars of the university, a bald woman, has begun consoling the people around me… I do not think I have the heart to open myself to her… I... I need to leave.
​
    ~V

**
​I have never once in my life regretted coming to this University until today. I never once questioned nature’s power, and yet—… Amira, flow steadily through us all... the University has been— an earthquake. It felt as if the mountains were the teeth in the gaping maw of some giant world eating beast a millennia-in-slumber... and it has awoken to take my son... my beautiful Somin, Light of my life and everything I held dear. I did not want to believe that the shakes I felt were real when they happened… something within me fought with every fiber not to move, not to believe it was anything worth worry, and to just wait until it was over so I could continue my walk with my son… I feel I dishonor his memory by being unable to recall in slow seconds exactly how it is he was taken from me; the direction the floor shifted, the way he leaned when it threw him off balance, out of my grasp and out of the open archways… I hate myself for not being able to remember that simple sequence. The truth is I never saw him fall, but I knew.

I remember his sharp shriek… the moment his hand slipped from mine, I remember how everything went black. I vaguely recall someone taking my arm and leading me somewhere. I could hear them talking to me, but they sounded so far away. I was content to stay that way at the time, I remember thinking that. I felt soft pats on my face, heard the thunderous growling of stone and earth, and distant wailing and whimpering, but it was another child ’s scream that brought me back my sight, or what sight I had that was not drowning in watery tears. How suddenly every moment I spent with Somin seemed to zip past me, and suddenly I was fighting a group of five or so people with everything I had to go back to where I was, where I had let Somin fall.  They spoke in soft tones and hushed me, though my arms are bruised from their firm grips. I think I hurt one or two of them, I cannot recall. I have no clue where that desperate strength came from, but it frightened me…

After the quakes ceased, and I was securely prevented from jumping after my son, a few people stayed with me as the rest surveyed the damage. I preferred to write in my journal, to attempt to sort out my thoughts in my head... One man, he said his name was Noba, tried talking to me for a little while, looking for kinship in the loss of a loved one, but left after I refused to talk. I felt a heavy stab of guilt as he sighed and walked away. How could I talk right now…? If I dare utter a single word, I somehow know I will not be able to hold any of my tears back.

The man returned and sat a bit away from me and began to paint. He softly asked if he could use some inspiration from the words he saw in my journal, and I just nodded. I should have said yes… I should have spoken to him, but I cannot. I physically cannot, because I am afraid. I know I am. I do not want to feel such a deep and hollow ache as the kind I know by instinct is waiting for me the moment I open myself to consolation. I am not accustomed to pain, but neither is anyone else. That man is trying to be brave and embrace his loss and fear. I wish I could be that brave…


~V