Madness

I continued reading the entries of the faded book, some of its text a bit difficult to make out.

"My father has cometh back along with the others to speak of what they've seen. Here's what they told me: things have started to progress only a few days after claims of people going deaf and blind. The blind ones spoke of seeing something in their fading vision, like a face, yet not. Those who had gone nearly deaf screamed on about being able to hear a beckoning voice very clearly, as if it was in their heads. Those who had begun to turn both deaf and blind were said to have experienced both. One thing remained common amongst the deaf and blind: they were filled with the upmost fear. 'Their dread was incomparable to any I've ever witnessed.' My father said."

The entry ended and I went to the next.

"One of our subordinates came back with a new observation. Instead of staying within our district, he decided to venture to the slums, where none from our class would usually set foot. The people of the lower class apparently had less who had been afflicted by the plague. Upon hearing this, we decided to observe them in the following days so that we may find a way to stop this madness."

"A new observation has been made. Those of the slums have fear no more. Our subordinate has told us that she spotted a man, said to be nearly blind and deaf, preaching blasphemes. He apparently spoketh of the thing he had been seeing and the voices he had been hearing, and those who have yet to be afflicted listened. She said there were crowds of slum folk gathered, heeding every word. She feared that they may have begun to worship something other than our god who wieldeth the sky."

"This place was once a land of renowned dragon slayers, but now even those who held such a title are beginning to turn. I've heard that a strange black growth has been developing on those who have been afflicted for a while. They remain in fear and agony, their screams I can hear from this floor. I shall remain strong, for that is all I can do, and I pray my will shall shed this affliction if it ever comes to me."

"The screaming on the streets below have begun to die down. Someone had told me that a new god was being worshiped, one other than our beloved sky god. Those afflicted began to worship, and in doing so have forfeited their fear. Now even the citizens of the higher class have begun listening to the blasphemous preaching that was once only in the slums, or so they say. The gods have always warred with one another, perhaps this was an attack, not for the god herself, but for those who followed her."

I flipped to the next page, the old smell of the page wafting into my nose.

"My father never returned from his scouting. I had noticed his eyes begin to gray and him stumbling about. I feared that he was afflicted to. I wanted to help him somehow, but he never came back. Perhaps he has now joined the crowd in their blasphemous chanting of another god."

"The end has begun. The king has finally responded in form of war horns and bloodshed. It seemeth the king has stayed loyal to our sky god, and so he chose to waste those who have betrayed her. I watched the battle ensue from my window. Bolts of light rained in arches from the king's castle; bolts that were meant for dragons, now turned onto the people. The knights of the high hill crossed the moat to lay waste to those who dared to participate in blasphemy. I saw the afflicted fight back in a way I have never seen. New appendages had sprouted from parts of their bodies, their reach sometimes tenfold of an arm. They swung and struck with them in horrific movements. It was gruesome just watching it unfold."

I looked at the faded dates, still undecipherable to me, but just looking at the numbers, I could at least tell that a few weeks had past between this and the next entry.

"The knights have begun throwing people into the moat, dead or alive. Those who had survived ran out the rampart gate in fear. This is all I could observe, as everyone who had reported to me no longer returned."

"Hunger is beginning to settle in for me, and I don't know how long I can go before I starve to death. I've been too in fear to go out myself, but now that my subordinates and my father are gone, I fear I have no choice. I know the implications of saying her name, but I feel as though it is necessary. I beg of thee divine Proastelor, the one who wieldeth the sky, and granteth us miracles to slay mighty dragons, please save Lumiraet."

"My hearing has begun to leave me, and now all I have left is the view from this window. It's been weeks, and Lumiraet has gone quiet. I see people crawling along the main road, scavenging for whatever. Perhaps I should go down there too, but I still fear for my safety."

"Hunger is a fascinating thing. Once at its peak, thou thinkest of nothing but food. My rations have been depleted and I sit here waiting to die."

"Something new has taken place. I had not noticed them enter, as I was in slumber, but there were a group of foreign knights on the streets below. With them, they brought the corpse of a dragon and gutted it in the middle of the road. Those nearby went crawling toward it, feasting on whatever came out. Their hunger had turned them into feral beasts, eating meat that has always been known for its foul taste. Still, the hunger within me only brought envy to the point that I could no longer take it. Instead of succumbing to a lonely death, or be cursed with the fate of the blind and deaf, I shall join them, for my hunger falters not."

The entries ended there, leaving me with little answers and more questions. I looked up to Tradaeya, who was now leaning against the frame of the circular window, looking down through the same glass the author of this diary once had. My shifting on the wooden floor alerted Tradaeya that I had finished reading and she turned to me.

"Wouldst thou like a view of the aftermath?" She asked.

I set the book down on the large desk and made my way toward the gothic, wooden window frame. I looked to the same view I had been reading about, truly realizing now the horrors of watching your home crumble before your very eyes.