Notes and Crap (entry thirty-eight)

Alright Novia, another cult falls, the Immortal Flames extinguished, the moment started preying on the weak, and threatening the material plane itself their days were numbered. In the wake of defeating that worthless Bone Devil, the surrounding lands was soon engulfed in utter chaos, as the plane of fire descended upon the land, striking down at those who dared fly too close to the sun. The lot of us decided to sneak past the devastation, infiltrating into the lower depths of a melted volcano. Eventually we made it to the heart of the Immortal Flame's base, an underground city of darkstone, obsidian that survived the Phoenix's devastation, probably was some unknown culture's history, twisted by the Immortal Flames to their designs. At the ritual site, we found ourselves with a ritual circle with a pillar of fire, surrounded by an elite guard, the Daughter of the Phoenix chained to an altar, and one old adversary. Naturally attacking me first, the son of a Sazuman Ran'jit was still alive, over the course of a hundred years built up a second cult, the goal of drawing power from the Plane of Fire itself, siphoning power from a woman who was tainted with primordial flame, a.... sorcerer like myself.
 
A fight ensued, breaking the elite guard asunder and fleeing, the binding pillars crumbled, fighting our way to the very altar in the heart of the volcano. The more we fought Ran'jit, we figured out quickly that he drew strength from the Daughter of the Phoenix, whose name we later learned is Icara, slowly killing her every time we wounded him, his body slowly aging down to his prime. Many of us attempted to break free the chains, too many binding the woman down, Filea took the hint, hearing the words of Icara, saying to kill her. Filea using her paladin's scythe struck her down, and from the fires she was reborn! Ran'jit however, he lost much that he had gained from the ritual, losing his newfound youth, his powers, reverting to the dusty old man he was before. I saw his desperation, gave him an out, threatening him to surrender, or breaking every bone in his body, he had lost, and to his own principles should submit; he chose to run, and Petra and Varis cut him down. I admit, it was cathartic, I was ready to turn the bastard in, let him rot in the depths of either Hakumei's or Randera's prisons, and then die, but then Icara incinerated his body. Either way, good riddance to one more evil of this world. To think I actually agreed to parts of his teachings in the Cu's Fist after reading over his texts, the strong dictating over the weak, but instead should nurture instead of oppressing them is the only way the strong should rule, cultivate more strength.
 
In the aftermath of the fight, the elementals raged on with the rest of the Immortal Flames outside, we still needed to dispose of the Flame Crystal, Icara saw to that, but seeing how she was in a weakened state, I chose to aid her, absorbing the primordial fire into my system... it overwhelmed my senses, charred the skin, yet there I endured. My magic, my body.. forever changed for helping her, and what do I get called for what I thought was a selfless act? An idiot, selfish and reckless is what I was called, with a small thanks! Gods above, is there anyone in this gods-forsaken land that doesn't sour the honey so to speak. I am breaking my body, damaging my very soul for this land, and this place aside from a small few doesn't heed the dangers of the Graveyard. At least those in Desert Rose, and the Gerudo give a damn, and those that we have saved... we will bring peace to this land if I have to drag them there myself.
 
Anyways... my body, overwhelmed by the magics was brought to the brink of exhaustion, for two days I could barely lift a finger, let alone drink water or barely open my eyes. I barely teleported the rest of everyone out of the devastation, Radegast says a great Efreeti was bringing ruin upon the volcano with his forces, Asher Grey I think it was, the Grand Sultan himself, Viscount Thorn would have a field day hearing about that. After about 2 days of travel, I teleported us back to Desert Rose... to the horror of the royal guards of Novia, they, and my friends told me I looked like I had charred skin, fire bursting from veins of my body every time I cast a spell, fiery eyes, and from my understanding. Even now I can barely walk without the use of my old fancy walking cane... gods above... I bought that back when I was still a punk, how... things have changed since then. I had less of a care in the world... I miss those days, now I kill in the name of Hakumei, seize heretical strengths from the crystals, become a leader and champion of the people, had to be done. Though as I write this... I do ask myself... will I live long enough to truly make strides towards peace for Hakumei, live to see it, or will I die in the Graveyard... and fail the contract with Azaerlea... my soul forfeit to her...forever. Shizune give me strength... I will fight to the end to prevent that from happening, but... there's always that lingering fear. Novia, if you read this... may Hakumei endure just a bit longer... the end's within our grasp. I just know it, even if it costs me everything.