27-02-2016, 06:26 PM
((Not a Journal per-say but a collection of brief memories from the past, Zanthers' past.))
Artimas stood looking out of his window in his study. Outside stretched the vast capital city of the Allagan Empire. Nearly 4,000 years old, the Empire had been a symbol of power for generations. Artimas, however, could see the writing on the wall and he was not the only one. Still, there were only a few of them and many would not listen to their words, even from someone in his position. The Empire was dying. With the wars going on along the border to the capture of a Primal and the building of the Tower, the Empire was on its last leg of life. Though nothing in his power could change that, he did have an idea. Artimas wanted to see how the world would be after the fall. He didn't know when but would not be in his own lifetime, fitting since this was his last night in this life. He had already set his affairs in order. His eldest son had been informed of some of the details, but Artimas felt others best kept away.
Slowly, he moved to his desk. With just a simple movement of his drawers a wall slide opened. He stepped inside, greeted by two of his most trusted servants. "Good evening master.", they said together. Inside a ritual of sorts had been set up inside. It had taken years of study to learn it, and months to prepare. "Evening, I trust everything is now in place?"
"Yes master, everything is in place. I trust you are finally ready to go through this?", said the male servant.
"As ready as I ever will be. I trust you two are still willing to do this? I hate for you guys to regret it any.", said Artimas.
"You know we are. We have been with you faithfully since we were all young, we will follow you where ever you go, do whatever is needed to be done.", said the female servant.
"Thank you both then. Shall we begin then?", said Artimas.
The servants gave him a nod. Artimas took a deep breath. This spell, forbidden as it was, was a relic of an age past, well before the empire was formed. Forbidden or not, he was willing to pay its price, even if it meant his soul would never find true rest. He had already placed his memories onto his personal necklace. Currently his eldest had possession of it, with instructions to have it placed in a specific area upon his (the eldest) death.
Soon, he stepped into the middle of the room. In a tongue not heard much in nearly 5,000 years he started to speak. "Oh Thal, take your humble servant into your realm. Give him the ability to transpose your deaths grasp to be reborn anew. In exchange for his soul, these two willing souls offer themselves to you as a payment, a payment for eternal life. The time between each death shall be no more 250 years. To your servant, forever he shall always pay you homage, no matter what form he may take. Now and forever, I will be yours to claim over and over, greeting you with open arms upon each passing and be released from them to only come back for all eternity." Suddenly the room glowed, the ritual marks on the floor lit up as darkness seeped from them basking the three individuals in a strange dark cloud. Soon everything turned back to normal, with the three people now laying on the floor, their lives taken for the ritual. Thus starting a cycle that would forever continue til Hydaelyn was no more.
Artimas stood looking out of his window in his study. Outside stretched the vast capital city of the Allagan Empire. Nearly 4,000 years old, the Empire had been a symbol of power for generations. Artimas, however, could see the writing on the wall and he was not the only one. Still, there were only a few of them and many would not listen to their words, even from someone in his position. The Empire was dying. With the wars going on along the border to the capture of a Primal and the building of the Tower, the Empire was on its last leg of life. Though nothing in his power could change that, he did have an idea. Artimas wanted to see how the world would be after the fall. He didn't know when but would not be in his own lifetime, fitting since this was his last night in this life. He had already set his affairs in order. His eldest son had been informed of some of the details, but Artimas felt others best kept away.
Slowly, he moved to his desk. With just a simple movement of his drawers a wall slide opened. He stepped inside, greeted by two of his most trusted servants. "Good evening master.", they said together. Inside a ritual of sorts had been set up inside. It had taken years of study to learn it, and months to prepare. "Evening, I trust everything is now in place?"
"Yes master, everything is in place. I trust you are finally ready to go through this?", said the male servant.
"As ready as I ever will be. I trust you two are still willing to do this? I hate for you guys to regret it any.", said Artimas.
"You know we are. We have been with you faithfully since we were all young, we will follow you where ever you go, do whatever is needed to be done.", said the female servant.
"Thank you both then. Shall we begin then?", said Artimas.
The servants gave him a nod. Artimas took a deep breath. This spell, forbidden as it was, was a relic of an age past, well before the empire was formed. Forbidden or not, he was willing to pay its price, even if it meant his soul would never find true rest. He had already placed his memories onto his personal necklace. Currently his eldest had possession of it, with instructions to have it placed in a specific area upon his (the eldest) death.
Soon, he stepped into the middle of the room. In a tongue not heard much in nearly 5,000 years he started to speak. "Oh Thal, take your humble servant into your realm. Give him the ability to transpose your deaths grasp to be reborn anew. In exchange for his soul, these two willing souls offer themselves to you as a payment, a payment for eternal life. The time between each death shall be no more 250 years. To your servant, forever he shall always pay you homage, no matter what form he may take. Now and forever, I will be yours to claim over and over, greeting you with open arms upon each passing and be released from them to only come back for all eternity." Suddenly the room glowed, the ritual marks on the floor lit up as darkness seeped from them basking the three individuals in a strange dark cloud. Soon everything turned back to normal, with the three people now laying on the floor, their lives taken for the ritual. Thus starting a cycle that would forever continue til Hydaelyn was no more.