Journal,

    I have found a ramshackled little cottage in the skirts of the woods. There are a few axes and other items left to rot that will be of little use to me, but perhaps I can make use of them at a later time. I can smell the fires of the village up ahead and I pray that they have not yet heard word of me or my kind. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal, 

    I fear that I am losing myself again to The Call. I passed a small herd of goats today and felt the twinge in my heart and the prickle of my skin. I should hunt them like people, but my teeth sunk into its flesh before I knew what happened. I ate well tonight, but I do not know how many more meals I can make. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal,

    I have entered the town at the base of the mountains. This place is beautiful and sits nestled in the shadow of the peak and the quagmire. The people here have not seen a stranger ever. I am known. I am an anomaly. But I am alone, and they were not hostile. I can only pray that whichever of the gods they worship hold hospitality in high regards. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal, 

    I found a place where the mushrooms grow, deep under a rocky overhanging near the village. I saw signs of tool work, and of foraging from the village, so I knew it was safe for me to eat. I could not help myself. I knew it was not mine for the taking, but take I did. I am remorseful but I do not know how to approach those who own this place. I am so hungry. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal, 

    I have left the village far behind and ventured further North. I cannot bear to face them after what I have done. Perhaps it was nothing, but perhaps I would have been executed for what I am. Regardless, there is shelter here and far from any humans. I will stay for now. 

Yours, Ananaias

Journal,

    I have ventured further north and found a bustling port. This far north! Not far from the estranged village. I do not know how, or why, but an old fisherman had greeted me and treated me to a meal. This place seems out of sorts, but I cannot say why. Perhaps I will ask about the village another time. I feasted upon the sea creatures today, and I hope that I will again tomorrow. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal, 

    I have spent the day by the river. Its waters were clear and sweet despite the ocean so near. The fisherman said to me it is the body of a god that will soon leave, but I do not know if I believe him. Regardless, I feel more in control than I have in many, many years. 

Yours Ananias

Journal, 

    I have heard the stories. You have heard the stories, all have heard them, but today I had seen it. I entered its realm. My mother was a witch and she spoke often about Faerie and how no mortal must ever enter. But I do not know if I am still mortal. I felt … at peace. In control. I was in true wilderness. But I knew I could not stay. That place would change me. I could feel the piercing gaze of the obelisk and it instilled in me a sense of wrongness. I did as she had instructed so long ago and found my way back to the mortal realm. I … it frightens me how much I long to return. 

Yours, Ananaias

Journal,

    The Guard is here and they have found more of us. I saw them with their pleading eyes in the cages. They reached to me and I ignored them. I do not know if I can stay here. I… I feel sick. I feel angry. I want nothing more than to tear their throats out with my own teeth. I will not write more, but know that I have thought darker thoughts than these. 

Yours, Ananaias 

Journal, 

    I have fled the fishing village and decided to head back south. There is nothing but trouble in the north. I have heard the stories and I do not want to risk if they are true. I stayed tonight in a small little town. There are people here like me. I met one who gave me a knowing smile. I did not know her name but I knew that look and she knew mine. There are more of us than I know. 

Yours, Ananaias,

Journal, 

    I have met with a traveling merchant. .. One who knows. We spoke.. In coded language, but it appears their sister is one like me. I trust this person for now and I traveled with them to another village. It appears there are more places in this region than I had anticipated. I should enquire about the secluded village but I am tired and I always forget in the morning. 

Yours, Ananaias

Journal, 

    I cannot believe that this book survived the fall. I am still shaking. I… I entered the town with the merchant and watched them leave and as soon as they had left the guards …. The Guard they seized upon me and I fled. I do not know what kind of sway that merchant holds but I believed it was  the only thing that stopped them from seizing me upon entry. They gave a long chase and drove me to a rocky expanse. I fell into the river. I jumped into that river and the waters spat me upon the shore further south than I had anticipated. I am lucky I still breathe. The god of the river must love me but I do not know where I am. 

Yours, Ananias

Journal,

    I can hear them, echoing across the cursed quagmire. I can hear the shots and the shouts and the screeches. They are not human, but neither am I. What I would give… what I wouldn’t give… to join in vicious revelry. My skin pricks. My heart ticks. And my mind is bleeding out through my ears. 

-A

Journal, 

    Through the trenches carved by the river’s ghost I found a cavern with near translucent walls. The stone is thin enough for light to pass but still sturdy enough to stand. But I can smell the animals and my teeth chatter. I can hear the howling of the wind and it is my own voice echoed back to me a thousand-fold. This place is safe. This place is not safe for my mind. 

-A

Journal,

    The Guard has not reached this place. I do not know how, for it is further east, still. The villagers follow old strange ways, but they know me for what I am. Some say blessed by their lake god, the river god, the air god--Decider of Cycles. But I feel yet cursed. How blessed by a god I do not know? But Decisions are made all ‘round the world without those who are privy to the knowledge. A twisted blessing if-in it is one. All I see is a projection of their beliefs foisted upon one with no answers. But I am not hunted. I am … not un-safe. 

-A

J, 

    I came across a village that I once knew. It is ashes and mud and soot and death. The prints of The Guard are littered throughout this place like scars upon the earth. I have only vague memories… we never went further west than this but I knew this place. 

    This place was kind. My mother knew we were safe here. There is nothing here. THere is nothing but death and the guards are reapers made flesh and no where will be safe. 

-A

J,

    Into Fairie I went once more. Into the night. INto the night. Into the ring. The ring the ring. Into the woods of the fae and the witches and they called to me. They called to ME. I went. I went I had nothing I had nothing. I still have nothing. I still have nothing. And soon I will be gone. I can feel it. I can feel it I can feel it. Upon and inmyself. It is me .It is not me. It is me. It is not me. I am losing myself and it will consume me and all of my in my entirety. I am tired. I am so tired. I will sleep.. I will sleep. I will slee

J, 

    I feel less hungover than I did when writing my last entry. It’s.. a mess. A mess. I am still losing myself, but I am more sober. More sober. There is silver in the air among this village and I will avoid it at all cost. All cost.  I feel as though I am losing my words as it consumes me. It consumes me. I am losing my head and what I can remember. I can remember very little. It’s all cotton and silver. All silver in the air. I must move. Must move on. 

-A