Personal Diary of Champion of Light Luan
Slums covered with filth were only the forgotten lay, with the thieves ruling the middle class—I fear we all will soon be there among the rot of the slums, or ruling it as slum lords beneath the thieves, since the king cares not what happens to those lacking coin or born of the upper class and barely cares for us in the middle class.
I only know this since I go to the slums daily to find the church and pray for a sign, yet my coin goes to a bishop who says it's all divine will, and a few pity coins to the harlots who gain my sympathy... to a point. Though I would not touch them personally, lest they give me rot down there.
Sadly, I fear the only path left to me is to join the knights, hope to gain some fame and power hunting monsters. From there, maybe I can challenge the thieves. Yet even that choice seems to be a losing battle—everywhere is death and suffering, and I don't know how to make it better.
—Page lost to Time - A Passage Written by Light Champion Luan
The day it was lost to me, crossing the street from my small home, was uneventful. The sounds of business were booming despite the more unsavory characters. Even now, walking to the slums, at least three watched me from the shadows. If it wasn't an everyday occurrence, perhaps I would not notice. Even with those thoughts, the nearest thief's sneer did not elude me as he tailed me to the church.
"There's a reason a pretty boy like you's always going to the slums? Can't get a woman, or maybe secretly chasing a man?"
The taunt had me looking to see the thief’s leer watching me. "I already paid tribute this month. The church takes what's left—you won't get coin from me." Watching carefully, I steadied my stance. They tend to seek the weak, and I would not give them reason to believe I was so...
"Leave him, Billy. Boss said those that pay, we don't touch. You know the rules." I swiveled my head, surprised there was more than one. It seems I was closer to an alleyway and a hidden thief than I knew...
"Fuck the rules. Pretty boy was looking for a man, I know it. Was willing to show him a good time, and he was about to ask—I know it." He blew a kiss my way while thrusting his crotch, laughing.
"Better than any whore in the slums, and you don't have to pay!"
Watching carefully to see if they would push, the unknown thief just stepped up to Billy and pushed him roughly away. "Let's go. You owe me a drink." Billy ignored him, still watching me.
"Gonna get you one of these times, pretty boy. Make sure you keep boss happy, or you'll be keeping me happy." He laughed, turning to follow the other thief as a few onlookers watched but did nothing, knowing any other day it would be them facing the same with indifference...
Even as they left, I knew this would not be the last taunt or threat I faced... What was the point of praying to the light goddess if it went nowhere?
Days passed in a blur. Finally getting accepted with the knights—training is brutal, but I grew up having to fight. If not the thieves, then those seeking what little coin I had. Always a fight. Why we were not more united bothered me, even among the knights...
Months passed in a blur of training, praying, sharing what little I could to try to make it better. Billy finally tried catching me alone, so I took one of his eyes to let him know to stop looking.
The thieves came swift and in numbers, offering me a choice—my life or submit to their control. So I took the deal—indebted to the thieves, but they never wanted me dead, no... they wanted another man on the inside with the knights. I did not like knowing there was corruption and I was adding to it, but was not stupid enough to think I could change it easily. The thieves already proved that.
So I took the deal, not liking the corruption that spread but not stupid enough to think I could change it so easily.
Weeks pass once more with the same never-changing truth: I wanted away from it all. So when word was sent they tried to build a garrison to help push back the rot and monsters, I pushed to be among the first volunteers. Most were forced, which surprised me. Why was it wrong to help us expand?
I learned soon after why it was... The start of construction was plagued with delays and constant hounding from monsters, and the endless rot in the fields. What money I saved not having to pay tribute by being away from the city was spent curing the rot that liked to spread on the flesh in the rot lands.
The monsters were another story. It was hit or miss how much of a threat they were. The worst was a massacre of men we were sent to replace—ten knights gone, metal and blood the only proof anything happened. The beasts took it all and left nothing for us to bury. Well, even if they did, the rot would consume them from there…and this was before the new garrison was even started.
Three months before the walls would be done. Yet the commander was a fool trying to make a name to escape the Rot Lands, kept pushing many into the waste trying to secure routes for trade. The dwarfs and elves tended to trade with us, but it was hard to export from there. That was partly the point of the garrison—to allow a foothold to expand, but we were not making much ground, and the beasts seemed to grow...
Weeks passed. Tired of the endless cycle of death and growing fear from the knights and common people trying to live here, I took my sword and went to face them outside the walls. Mad, they called me. Personally, I did not care. I recently took to praying to the goddess since it was her blessing that cured my rot—well, the church did, but with her light essence, at least what the bishop told me. I had no reason to doubt him or the goddess.
The waves were starting to get bigger with them getting bolder, so I wanted to break them, remove that endless charge upon our walls. Most were small horde pack types. I stayed near the gate walls—not out of fear, but to prevent them from easily surrounding me. A few knights, bless them, gave me covering fire which distracted the mindless beasts that focused on me. Watching them turn on each other with each that fell as they ate their own dead. It sickened me how easily they devoured each other when, a moment before, they were allies, and it was me they wanted to devour.
I cut them down even as they ate each other. The only saving grace, and probably what saved me from my ignorance, was the absurdity of my actions. It was not what they were used to, and it served me well. I met mockery even for this small victory, not that I cared; we need change and I was here.
Months went on with nearly the same routine. A few times they scarred my flesh from my arrogance, repeated a pattern they learned to watch for, but I was now also quicker, learning leather was worth more than chain mail as it slowed me down, and their claws tore it as easily as my flesh. A few knights, emboldened by my endless hunting beyond the walls, joined me, saying the goddess must have blessed me, never fearing death. Truthfully, it was more despair—feeling there was nothing left. But seeing them willing to fight, I felt hope. Maybe all was not lost.
Weeks later. "FORMATION X!"
It was called X but was more a V shape with the men. As more men joined me in my endless charge, talks went around; daily at first, they thought I'd be dead tomorrow. And as the days went by, still alive, others wanted to fight with me.
A few did fall sadly—brave men giving their all, but not from fear or lack of trying, no... The damn waves are growing. We kill hundreds and still more come...
Trades grew rarer as the attacks grew. We debated eating monster meat to help with rations, but these recent waves had plague rot mixed in, and it was burden enough without adding more rot to it.
Month later. The trades got better, with dwarfs fighting for coin. But when the budget did not allow it, the waves grew too big. Even raining arrows, they still rushed to break our walls, uncaring who was among their dead.
We managed to get holy wood from a recent trade, but it was mixed in with normal wood among the walls, so not the whole fort was secure... Cracks already forming in the base, the monsters clever enough to test with burning of their flesh.
So I took the bravest men, swore to kill in the goddess's name, did one last desperate rush leading us to victory or our deaths.
New types of beasts in this crowd—small goblins that got crushed beneath the horde, giant cats and wolf types, snake types, even humanoid types. So many varieties struck us it was as if the end was here, yet I swung and cleaved in a sea of flesh, defying them with all I had left.
Bloody, scarred, dying, many men fallen, and still more monsters came. The only thing staving off death was my arm never stopping its swing.
They got tired trying to nip my flesh from bleeding from my relentlessness; easier prey was nearby while they turned to feast on the fallen—my men, theirs, all became food in an endless sea of death.
They fled to regroup, tired of the endless peck of arrows and the few men scattered pushing against fate, trying to deny death with each blade strike, and I collapsed. Too much. This couldn't go on. Not even having the strength to enter the gate. Near where I rested, feet became miles as we all had been tested, and it seemed I was bested.
They saw my fall—the one cutting them endlessly, keeping them from the walls, finally fallen. Their roar swelled in a chorus of joy to feast on my death.
I wanted to make a difference, to save lives. Maybe I did, if only a little... I just wish the goddess saw and cared. If I had a chance, I would use that power and burn them all to ash.
Staring them down with those final thoughts, even as the few men left tried to surround me in one last desperate hurrah—even as they were as weak as me, they fought. I was proud... I wished I'd taken more time to remember their names...
As the monsters seemed to be in unison leaped, all trying to be the first to feast, I stared, wishing my gaze could turn them all to ash.
As a beam of light did just that, shining down and turning them into a sea of ash... Uh... that wasn't me? Looking up, I was awed—an angel descended from the sky with blinding light as an aura, beyond the earth he just scorched with his power.
"THE GODDESS HAS CHOSEN YOU, MORTAL. BE HONORED SHE CHOSE YOU TO MEET HER FOR A BLESSING."
Staring dumbfounded, unsure what to say or how to act, I saw from the corner of my eye the men who chose death with me versus fleeing. "What about my men who fought with me?"
A sneer entered the angel's perfect face. "You're all rot to me—not just in look but smell... but the goddess believes you're different, and only you." I nodded meekly, unsure how to take such a blessing. I was facing death, now blessed?
"Uh... how do I get there?" The angel grimaced but spoke clearly. "You lack our grace, but we do her will. I shall carry you to her hall."
Time seemed to blur, as I was already above ground in the angel's arms. The view was awe-inspiring and showed how vast the rot lands really spread. The forest and, to the side, the vast ocean closer to the monster mountain, showed me how futile my fight was. There were even ruins of old kingdoms I never knew existed, closer to the monster side, that probably got overrun... It seemed our kingdom now was at a center point, just far enough from each to exist and still get some trade... I tried looking beyond through the forest or ocean to see if other kingdoms existed. I knew elves blended with trees and dwarfs were underground, so it didn't really show much...
Feeling awkward watching as we got closer to the sky of a new world, Luan was unsure what to say or do. He did not fear death—he'd accepted that the moment the monsters nearly killed him—but still wondered how this would really end...
Just beyond the clouds was land? It was a floating island big enough to hold his kingdom and more. It was as if someone carved a vast amount of the world and lifted it there. There were mountains with waterfalls, forests, plains, and between it all was a kingdom of light. Everything was so lush and clean—no rot anywhere. He now felt dirty for the first time, seeing why the angel saw him as such, even though he did try to remain clean.
"Mind your words, human. The goddess can and will kill you on her whims. She owes you nothing."
"My name's Luan," he replied since the angel was talking.
"What?" The voice dripped with disdain.
"Luan is my name. Thank you for helping me." A harsh laugh barked just above me as we got closer to landing.
"Oh, you pitiful thing. I don't need your name—it means nothing to me. But since you will need to address me, 'messenger' will suffice, assuming you live long enough for it to matter."
Luan wasn't sure how to feel. He now walked a place that no mortal seemed to be welcome, and among divinity. So he tried to dust himself off and walk forward to meet the goddess—the one of every mortal's dreams.
The walk was endless overstimulation of sights that went beyond what he thought could be. He remembered tavern talks praising the forest, but this? Everything was beyond it. He knew how rare clean water was if not middle class, but everything here made it seem like even a smudge of dirt would be seen as worse than the rot on grass.
Everyone shined with a polish that almost hurt to see, and voices sang a peace that could lull him to sleep. It was truly a divine place—a soft glow in the distance from the one who sat on the throne, and he could faintly see a smile from the woman who sat there.
As he got closer, he foolishly knew it was a goddess before him, not some random woman amused he showed.
Waiting for her to speak, watching her carefully for a command which never came, he knelt. "Goddess, word was sent you have need of me. I'm here to serve." He wasn't sure why she saved him. Talks in church and now the messenger both said she was a harsh mistress, but the smile seemed she was willing to at least listen. Yet all that time that passed with nothing but his prayers left him in doubt, even as he was here before her….
"Nonsense. You are my champion and will always be welcome here." Luan looked up, unsure he heard her right. He never swore anything to her? True, he fought in her name, but champion? Since when... And he fought in her name for the people, hoping for change... a desperate gamble that seemed to pay off.
"I make you my champion. Do you serve me?" Her voice brought him back. Why would he not serve her? Wait... why ask? You could demand easily...
"Of course, goddess. We all live to serve, and those foolish enough to reject, I will hunt in your stead." He knew they needed unity, and this was the closest they'd gotten to the goddess caring. He would not throw it away... not when he could let the people see this kind of world.
He figured he'd come this far and she was listening. He would push a little more. He'd already accepted death before, but with the light? With power to fight... He could do more. "Goddess, if I may be so bold, will you grant me light to fight the monsters and blight? The world can be better if they know you care."
"Don't be silly, champion. You are my light. The people are blessed enough with that. You earned your blessing—embrace it." She was dismissing him so easily, so freely... so cruelly with indifference. He now knew why they said to use care—the smile was fake. Yet he did not gain her wrath...
"Does my gift displease you?"
He had to use care. Was this a test? How far could he push... How far did he want to push? He needed power, that much was true... But would it really change anything?
"You may speak your mind. I will accommodate small grievances—you earned that right."
She was willing to listen? And she was smiling. Maybe he assumed too much... and she was trying to be better? To show compassion to humans—it can't be easy, alone as a god above others.
"I understand, goddess, and thank you for being willing to bend for me. Your willingness to listen is more than I deserve. I will serve even if you gave me nothing."
He'd done nothing to prove his worth, yet he needed to prove in time he was worthy of power and the people were worth saving. But maybe he could try to at least save the knights from dying.
"The king keeps sending knights to the garrison of the rot lands and the monsters to hunt. I was among them, fighting. It was smaller waves when I was there, or I would be dead."
She's not dismissing me this time... perhaps she will humor me. "But good knights died hunting those monsters. I ask you to only send the unworthy—let them earn their place. Let the knights serve the kingdom safely till threats make it closer to our walls, then send them."
Watching her carefully, he finished his speech, waiting for judgment. "I ask this not lightly, so I swear to help keep killing in your name."
A smile bloomed on her pure white skin. "As you wish. I will allow it." A light formed in her hand, and he saw for the first time true power.
He knew the church had magic and could imitate the goddess's light in a much smaller form with healing, but the church said they had to pay tribute in magic essence, so they charged for healing versus blessing all.
Taking the crystal, he felt the change—the filth, rot, pains washed away. Such power. It wanted him, wanted to be a part of him. Was this how the light was with everything? He was healed before, and it was nothing like this. This felt possessive, wanting him whole and pure, but like it... pure light. He felt he could consume the light and get more power as it became one with him. If he did, would she give another? Would he want it? No... He was not a puppet. He served for a purpose—to help, not to be controlled.
Yet the light started to burn and became blinding. He threw the crystal, rejecting it. Flame and the world shattered into blinding light—all he knew and saw rained like fragments. Yet the burn did not lessen—it grew, and all was a flame that consumed him.
He screamed with rage and madness, unsure what was happening, what to believe. Was this the goddess's gift? Was this a trap to show her true depth of cruelty? Yet a voice spoke between the burning flames, confusing him more.
"You are mine and mine alone. I will burn all the darkness away till all that's left is you as my light, no matter how many times I must make you ash. You are mine."
"My champion."
"NO!" He tried to fight, pulling, shifting, breaking free from the nothingness, but still the light burned and he felt his existence fade to nothing. All that was left was the flame of the light...
“Abaddon”
A voice in the nothing. A name that meant nothing. Yet the light peeled back and darkness engulfed me and I was home.
No…. Not home but safe in an embrace that was foreign but loving; it wanted me free of the light as I wanted to be. Yet even as the truth of what it could be dawned, it faded.
His eyes slowly opened. Ah, another dream... It seems she hunts me, or the scars are just that deep—it still bleeds me…yet that voice calling me?
"Trouble, lord?" Ezra, his first disciple, asked.
"Just a dream," Abaddon responded. "Nothing more."28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡog95MUdjT4
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