The Man In The Reflecting Glass


Water has always fascinated me. It has so many qualities and forms, sometimes I wonder if it isn't mother nature her self. One form that enthralls me however, is its solid form, ice. Ice is something I study often, but at times, it seems I am not studying what water is, but who I am. For ice has the ability to create a duplicate of one's self. It isn't really a copy but a near shadow of who we really are. For ice can only show so much, and most of the time, it leaves out the core of who one is. It forms an image of one's armour, but not of one's character. That is why, however, I like to meditate while looking at my image of a shadow over ice. For it makes me see things in a new way. When I look into the frozen water, when I look at what is part of me, I see many things. Most are not reflected upon the fragile glass of water, but radiate from within. When I look in the frozen ice, I see a noce that is intelligent and wise. For isn't it the nose who brings pictures and feelings together? When I look at that image of myself, I see windows half shrouded in shadow. Windows that are covered with a web of cracks and dirty curtains that obscure reality. With effort however, and a bit of hard work, those shattered windows are being cleared of those infesting cracks. It is a slow pace, one crack at a time, but it is quite rewarding, for with each crack that is removed, and each wipe of the curtains, new things are revealed. Soon enough, things will be seen for what they are, and not for what I think they are. For prejudgement often results in error, and with error comes faults that must be corrected. Which in turn, removes the beauty of what we see, and moves the focus, to what we thought we had seen. When I look at my image, I see a mouth that is sly, and secretive, Inviting yet on guard. Gates that are willing to open, but choose to remain shut, as though guarding something. With in my image I see the treasure which my mouth refuses to be found. This treasure can be an acid that dissolves all in its path and which can reach the deepest corners of one's being. However, it can also be a healing salve that spreads like a flowing river into an ocean: starting from the center of our core and spreading down to our toes. It can become a coiled snake or turn into a fluttering butterfly. It can strike like a whip or sooth like a mother's hand. This treasure that can taste as sour as vinegar, or sweet as honey is none other than the 2-sided blade which we all carry, the tongue! As I gaze at my image, I see many things, but yet, they aren't who I am. For there is more to a man, than their appearance.

There Is Much To Learn, Even About Giants


Today I spent the last half turn with a friend, and it was quite a pleasant one. I learned quite a few things, some which I don't think I would have, if I hadn't spoken to her. Who knew that a voice was a gift. Who knew that annoying, being obnoxious, or simply being kind and saying thank you was a privilege. I do thank you Emilia for that new view. Speaking of knew views though, today Emilia and I went to visit my friend Cranko the giant. Shockingly or not shockingly enough, we found him in the same place, where I thought he would be. If anyone ever reads this, I will have them note, that Cranko is not an enemy, but a friend. He may be terrifying with his roar and huge size, but he is harmless as... an ogre eating lemon tart pie. He is often missed, and many don't see him, for they see what he uses as a disguise. However, I see many things, and since my first trip from Caerni, I saw his sitting figure. He sits right outside the walls of caerni, right between the mountains and the city. Many pass by him with out a second glance, often busy and in a rush to get to the city or mountains. However, if one listens as they reach the hills, they can hear the angry roar from my good friend Cranko. His Roar is so big, that even standing on the hills, you can feel his breath which is not hot nor cold, just nice and cool. It is even strong enough, that if you stand still, it ruffles one's hair. Even more surprisingly, is his breath. Even for a giant, it is quite... different. Rather than smelling like wrotting flesh, or stinking like the sewers, it smells fresh and clean, just a hint of saltiness as though he had eaten fish. He is often found east of these hills outside of Caerni. If one heads east, they will be hmmm... almost face to face with him, but to be precise, more like face to jaw. If one enters from the east, one will be standing on a grassy hill, which has another hill, just perfectly spaced apart next to it. Upon inspection however, one may realize that the green grassy material actually is pants, and what seemed like hills, are actually knees. Yes, my friend Cranko is quite tall even sitting down. If he were not so then... he may not be a giant. He may be scary looking, or even cause shivers to run down your spine, due to his loud roaring and intimidating glare. However, I know otherwise. He may have a roar for a voice, or a huge dark opening as a mouth, from which ale flows out; but he has a gentle stream for a heart. If one sticks around and gives him company, they will come to know Cranko like a friendly giant. For it is only early in the morning, when his angry orange eye peaks down at you, and he is roaring in anger, But at night, he calms down, and even winks as he closes his eye to sleep. I often visit him, for Cranko gets quite lonely. We have become quite close friends, and enjoys new company. Today was no exception. Even if he can't express his feelings well, I know he was happy to meet Emilia and I am happy that she got to meet Cranko. From the conversation we had, Emilia and I, I know that Cranko has made a knew friend, and will have a new visitor coming to keep him company once in a while. I hope I can introduce many new friends to Cranko but if not, there is no loss. For it is better to have 2 true friends than many so called friends who just are waiting to put a dagger at one's throat. I have so many things I can say about today and the visit to Cranko, but sleep has finally caught up to me, and I can't continue writing. So this is goodbye for now journal, and until my next visit my good pal Cranko.

Extra Info: oh I almost forgot to write down: the name Cranko is not that creative I know, but thought it was easy and simple for him to go by, as he is often raging, and always seeming to be cranky, hehe.

What Is In Store

AS the fears reawaken within me, I must leave before they consume me. I am not running away, for Zub Zeron is my name and coward I am not. Neither am I a symbol of resistance. I am far from one to rally others against the darkness that threatens to suck all light from this land, but neither am I a conceded person for I give credit where it is needed. For there are many who fight along side me, but there are those who fight for reasons more than this land, those who have chosen to be a point of strength for the rest of us. My great friend Viviyana, Pallas, and Cody Fireblade are just a few that have chosen to do so. They may not know it, but they are more than heroes in my heart, as well as Ellyana my Guild Leader who has come to be like a mother to me. Thanks to them and many others, I have been able to put one foot in front of the other, and keep my sight fixed on the great prize that is yet far ahead but visible. Each one of these people have come to be... part of my soul, a flame that never will be extinguished and that gives me the strength to pick myself up after being knocked down. It will be hard to say goodbye, but just because I am out of their sight, doesn't mean, that they will be out of mine. It is hard not to pick up some things from Vivi when you are around her, while she is doing nothing but her many tricks and stunts. In my departure I may be alone, but I will be constantly writing in this book of mine, so I may not be quite alone. However, all of this is for the best, of whom I do not know. I do know however, that I have become a danger for allies and enemies alike. I am no longer safe while I pretend I am otherwise as I mingle in the mix of adventurers. These fears have reawaken, and who I am, and what I fight for have been attacked, and now are at risk. I leave in order to deal with these fears before they consume me. It won't be easy, this change that is about to happen, but all the same, it is not for me, but all of vallorn that I do this. I smile sadly as I right this, but know that this isn't the end. I will change because I must, or have Zub become nothing but an old lost friend. I will win, because Zeron means "You Are What You Say You Are," and for that, my parents weren't wrong. For a "Fresh cub," I may still be, with dreams higher than the heavens themselves, but I will get there, even if it requires me to climb thousands of stairs, or to give every last drop of energy I possess. For I have learned "Life isn't about finding yourself, but about creating yourself," and look at me now; a ppor boy I once was, with the only worry being how I would feed my siblings and my mother. However, now I am an enchanter surrounded by people I can call friends, where once there was just animals that gave me comfort. I am a protector of this land, with a staff to help me pass judgement. However, things that once lay buried, have once again risen to the surface and now threaten to cripple who I am.. So that time has come once again for me to go and create myself once more. To climb those stairs and find what awaits me. So here I am, preparing to do my disappearing act, and wishing everyone a "be well," smile. I won't disappear right away, but when I do, I hope not to cause a sudden alarm, for I will appear, but for a while, I may be to tired to move, or to even send a bird, but don't fret, for this is for the sake of valorn right? Even if I find myself face to face with a dirt path, or simply on the ground gazing at the sky, I will find myself. For training is the only way to get to where I must be, even if my fingers tremble as they hold my staff, or my arms too weak to lift my thin frame off the ground. For training will make me stronger right? I will be created new, even if my broad and strong arms become skinny like twigs. For, things must die for others to thrive right? Well here is the end of who I am now, for in a few days, I will start that climb to find who knows what. I promise I will come back strong, and nothing to fear, or at least to overcome my current fears, for it is natural to have fear, for that is what drives us to become better. For example, one fear that isn't much of a fear, or a threatening one at least is the idea of me not having at least one tart a day, don't know how people can't live without tarts, just imagining the world with out tarts is a bit... hardfor me. Things like that are what have become flaws in my creation, and so I will fight till I rot, meditate until I drill the reason why I have fought, and give it all I got! I will be a place of sanctuary, and that is a promise!

Fear Me

Today I went to train. It was quite different, for this time, I gave it my all. For last night I dreamed of my long lost love, of that beast that shattered my heart; the one that was taken from me by a dagger. When I woke today, I was filled with rage like none I ever felt. Today every strike had power, it had rage. Today every movement, every glide had purpose. Today was the day that Balthazar, thick headed and ugly as he is, would learn what he unlocked and live to regret it. For today I entered the wall, unseen but silhouetted against the entrence; standing tall and broad, my staff a long shadow bursting with white hot energy, and my rage emanating from like like heat from a fire, causing all to cower. With every "swish" of my cloak, and "craaaack" of my staff, corpses lay at my feet until I was surrounded by them. For every floor I filled with corpses, the feeling of savage revenge rang loud and clear, giving those who managed to keep away from my staff, to tremble in fear, not daring to make a single sound in fear of me coming back. For a long time, all that could be heard was the "thunk" of bodies hitting the floor or the muffled "crunch" as my boots turned to dust old bones. With every "thunk" I seemed to become more unrecognizable as rage, revenge, and pure hatred took over my heart, my entire being. It seemed like I could fight all day. A laugh escaped my mouth at the thought that I once walked in the wall half timidly but now to see the once scary creatures scurrying away from me. Like all things however, the adrenalin finally came to an end, leaving me worn out and exhausted. I write this event because it scares me to know that I can lose control, that I am a killing machine. It scares me because I don't know how to control it, and I don't want my friends to get hurt. I write in hopes that the gods will hear my plea, and help rid me of such anger that resides in my heart. For I fear that, one day the rage will consume me, and I won't return from my raging rampage.