06-25-2025, 07:13 AM
Last night I had just barely fallen asleep when he came and sat at my bedside. I did not move a muscle and shut my mind out to his presence, hoping he would just leave somehow. It was such an unusual snd frightening thing to feel next to me so closely, an absolutely alien entity that radiated a careless hate to all life. I was so absolutely sure of the fact that he would kill me, so sure that I began to pray to anything that would hear me in the darkness and begged for my life. I screamed aloud for something, anything or anyone to come and take him from my life and at last when my voice began to tremble and tears welled up in my eyes I grew quiet once more.
I opened my eyes to him and looked him in the face. It astonished me to see his one good eye wet with tears that he wiped away with a gloved hand. He began to speak, but I couldn't remember a word of it to write down now. It was some vapid, rambling monologue that drifted into far too many subjects he knew factually nothing about such as love and karma. I felt frozen to the spot, stuck in the moment unable to reason with myself any other way to escape him that I hadn't already tried before. It seemed easier to let him tire himself out, and at last when he finished speaking he had lost even that tiniest sliver of an expression he held before.
It was covered up and buried somewhere with his reason. And so--- finally satisfied, he went to bed.
[Recovered from the journal of a member of the shortly lived 'Triumvirate'. Matching archeological documents have led many scholars to the conclusion that this was written by a high ranking non-magi within the Triumvirate known as 'Joffery The Third', closely associated with the Imperfect Geist.]
I opened my eyes to him and looked him in the face. It astonished me to see his one good eye wet with tears that he wiped away with a gloved hand. He began to speak, but I couldn't remember a word of it to write down now. It was some vapid, rambling monologue that drifted into far too many subjects he knew factually nothing about such as love and karma. I felt frozen to the spot, stuck in the moment unable to reason with myself any other way to escape him that I hadn't already tried before. It seemed easier to let him tire himself out, and at last when he finished speaking he had lost even that tiniest sliver of an expression he held before.
It was covered up and buried somewhere with his reason. And so--- finally satisfied, he went to bed.
[Recovered from the journal of a member of the shortly lived 'Triumvirate'. Matching archeological documents have led many scholars to the conclusion that this was written by a high ranking non-magi within the Triumvirate known as 'Joffery The Third', closely associated with the Imperfect Geist.]