ALL NOVEL The journal (4)
I played worlds in Source, world files of code that created each playthrough, so I wondered how this world came to be. To be exact, it was on the first night of the first day, when I was tucked in the fetal position, cowering in fear.
How has this world come to be? Was there some sort of god? If so, how did they do it? And what’s happening to it now?
That was my first question to the Journal. “Explain to me the origins of this world.”
On earth, the origin of the universe had been heatedly debated for centuries, with modern science and religion being the opposing ideas. Neither explanation couldn’t answer that.
However unlike there, where the answer to that still remains undiscovered till my death, here was a different story.
The Journal was more than willing to explain. It opened itself and I gaze onto its contents for the first time. The recorded history inside its infinite pages, moved an illustration of how this world came to be.
“Listen well, Demon Child.”
Long ago in an age so ancient, the time of which it happened has been lost to history, two beings came together.
Two beings of incredible might and power, surpassed everything before anything was created. They could be called gods, creators, or existances beyond the bounds of mortal comprehension.
One was bright, a sun in the shape of a person, a man whose countenance brought an incredible beacon in the emptiness of the time before; while the other, was darker than the shadows of emptiness, an abyss in the shape of a bewitching woman whose body swallowed even the radiance of her counterpart– together, they held balance.
It was said that they united to create the world and that world reflected themselves. Together they created the material plane, a dimension, a reality. However since they came together, their creation could not have everything, and instead held a balance.
And unlike themselves, who were truly immortal and without beginning or end, they created life upon that world. With one hand on each side, they turned the cycle of life and death, and the wheel of fate had been set in motion.
Soon enough, their creation began to worship them and called them gods, imperfect as they were to be called so.
The brightness was called ‘Morn, the Rising Star’ for he had been associated with the sun. Morn was known for his generosity, his grace, and his blessings, for he loved his creations unconditionally.
Meanwhile the darkness was called ‘Eve, the setting sky.’ Unlike Morn, Eve resembled the moon and the evening as she was the opposite of Morn, because she was known for bringing forth great calamity, disasters, and plagues. But she cared for her creations also.
“Tough love, huh?” I commented, chewing a large piece of steak. The Journal had been explaining to me for the past hour while I was eating.
If it had a face, it would have annoyed one at me. “Sorry for interrupting… please continue.”
Together they were revered as beings of worship, perfect and omnipotent in every way, but like the fallible mortals they have created in their union, they too were imperfect. For they were both beings of contrasting natures to begin with, neither nature could ever completely dominate the other.
Balance.
But like themselves, balance could never always be perfect.
With each blessing Morn gave the world, Eve would take by bringing forth disasters, and likewise, any plague and chastisement Eve administers to the world, Morn would alleviate with miracles.
Bountiful harvest in some years would follow incredible drought,
Calm skies would mean typhoons in other places,
And great technological advancement that can usher in an age of great prosperity, would be greeted by great violence and loss of life. War.
The world as it is today was the result of their ever continuing conquest for dominating the other.
“That explanation has been watered down considerably, but it should suffice. You have two more questions, Demon Child.”
“Wow, stingy.” I frowned.
“You would be surprised. Not many have been able to afford a single question, much less three, in exchange for all their knowledge.”
I had many questions to ask about this book, but I guess I shouldn’t really be complaining. “Okay then, next question.”
I didn’t need to think too much on what to ask. I already knew what I wanted to know. Simply, If I wanted answers in the future, I just needed to earn them.
“What exactly am I to the people of this world? What is my purpose to have been reincarnated and why?”
“That… I cannot answer.”
I was surprised.
“What do you mean can’t?”
“Your story has yet to be written and so I cannot give you an answer I do not have. Perhaps I could reiterate your life from your infancy.”
“What? Uhm…”
“You did give me your memories, and you must be mistaken. You never forget anything, for your memories are forever recorded in your mind, but recalling those memories are another issue. Being incapable of recalling those memories is the illusion of forgetfulness.”
I’m not sure as to whether or not that is true or this book is out of touch with reality, but considering he’s technically… wait a minute…
How old is this thing?
“Sure…”
“But this is unacceptable as I can imagine, however I am no god. I cannot know something that has not happened yet.”
“So… tell me about the civilization and it’s people in this world.”
The book looked at me with a silent expression. It's true and very strange. This book does not have a face to make expressions, save for its eye and eyelids, but I think I can make out what it’s thinking.
Honestly, I don’t like referring to it as an inanimate object. It’s definitely some sort of being capable of thought and feeling.
Is this the result of being soul-bound?
“If that is the case, then you do not have enough time to understand all I have to say about civilization.”
“Oh just dumb it down, I can just read it from your pages later or something.”
I actually can do that. He is a person and a book.
“That I can do.”
***
“Are you going out mister? It’s very late at night.”
I straightened out my clothes, making sure that my purse was strung tightly onto my belt loop and person. I was carrying my net worth right now, without most of my protection.
I looked at Cody and although his opinion is very thoughtful, I’m way too old for a kid to worry about my wellbeing.
“Yeah kid, I’ve got something to do.”
I said that with an air of confidence but that didn’t seem to phase the kid at all.
“The other time you came back from ‘doing something,’” Cody quoted, physically creating air quotes with his fingers, “You nearly died.”
I emotionally felt a sword stab my heart.
Damn this kid is smarter than I thought. Sassy too.
“This time…” I thought for a moment. Honestly, I’m about to make contact with the underworld of Ironhold. I haven’t murdered anyone. I killed, yes, but that was legal.
To survive from death that’s coming at all sides, I might have to bring my blade up to someone without provocation. Quite literally, the choice of survival and morality is what I’m headed towards.
And I know for a fact what choice I’m making.
“I’ll… do whatever it takes not to die.”
“Good,” Cody said with some sort of hesitation. “Word on the street says you’re tough. The goons from the alleys aren’t bothering grandma because of you.”
I see…
So that’s what this kid is worried about.
“Trust me kid, I've learned my lesson.” I try to give him a good smile.
This kid, thinking very hard for his grandma. He’ll be a better man than many. I’m proud of him for that.
Respect, little man, I can respect that.
But you’re mistaken to think that I’d go down that easily. I fought off against a dozen archers, injured, and walked out alive. Barely dead, but alive. As far as I know, that deserves some sort of recognition.
But just to be safe, I felt the knives hidden in my sweater.
“Trust me this time, and when I’m done, no one’s going to touch you or your grandma.”
His face lit up brightly. He looked like a toddler looking at a Christmas tree. “Y-You promise!?”
I gave him my fist, egging him on to bump it. “Promise.”