As Garlemald struggled to survive in the conclusion of the war, we had little time to mourn for a greater mystery demanded answers.
It was upon the moon itself that our journey next carried us, but Luna was never what we thought it was. We have spent so much time thwarting the Ascians and preventing Zodiark’s resurrection. Yet our victory against him at Luna was not the salvation we sought - it only revealed the true crisis. He was not the real threat but a dam holding back the deluge.
Bereft of understanding, we sought to bypass time itself and find answers in the unlikeliest of places - Amaurot before its fall. With the aid of the Crystal Primarch and the Primal Alexander, we somehow succeeded and reached the lands long lost to time.
Elpis.
Had there not been an impending peril looming against us, I could have easily spent a lifetime exploring and chronicling that realm. It was a place of wonder, of so many answers to the mysteries many have devoted their entire lives in pursuit of. But time - as contradictory as it seemed - was scarce.
It was bittersweet to meet the past version of one of my erstwhile adversaries and unlikely friends. Emet Selch. Yet the Emet of that distant past was not the weary, cynical immortal. He was ambitious and youthful. Knowing what I know now, I admit it was difficult. Befriending him was no easy task - knowing how his story would end. Now I wonder - could Hydaelyn say the same thing of me when she first reached out to me those many years ago?
And yes, Hydaelyn herself was there - still looking every bit the same as the woman in the miniature portrait I was entrusted with. Even now, I know not how to reconcile that mystery.
In Elpis, she was not yet the great deity that everyone prayed to and laid their fears and hopes upon - but the mortal woman who would take up that mantle. Venat was steadfast and wise, brave yet gentle. Every bit as good a person as I could only hope to be.
Accompanied by her, Emet and their friend Hythlodaeus, we discovered the root of the end days. It was no primal - nor an ancient evil from the deepest reaches of the void. It was an entity created to address a seemingly simple question: What is the meaning of life?
Meteion and her kin were then made to travel the stars to find the answers. To reach civilizations hitherto unknown and learn from them. To use the knowledge they would gain to better the lives of people in Etheirys. But what they found in the far depths beyond the planet was no enlightenment. Extinction. War. Disease. Meaninglessness.
Civilizations, all far surpassing our own, ended the same way. Thus she reached a devastating conclusion: life always ends in suffering. Hope is irrational and all life should end.
She and her kin were no conquerors bent on domination. They were not cruel. They had merely reached a terrible conclusion - and possessed the resolve to act upon it. ‘Twould only be a matter of time before Meteion and her sisters - the Meteia - would bring Etheirys to its end as they had countless other worlds before.
And so, realizing this, Venat took it upon herself to set events in motion to protect our world. She embraced suffering - knowingly and deliberately. She sacrificed being remembered kindly. How many souls have cursed her name for their lot in life - not realizing that her lonely burden far surpassed all ours. She had every right to abandon her course, but she chose otherwise because she believed mankind deserved the chance to struggle rather than live forever beneath comforting illusions.
In the end, she gave up her last remaining strength to bestow my fellow Scions and I with the strength to push forward. Her essence, expended across countless eons of protecting a world that misunderstood her, faded into the aetherial sea. May she find peace and walk forever in the light of her crystal.
I know now why I continue these journals. They are not merely the inheritance of Gwendolyn Elswyth, but a record of Venat as she truly was. May these pages preserve the exemplary mortal woman she was before she chose the path that led to her demise.
Yet merely learning the truth would not be sufficient. ‘Twould not prevent the impending doom coming for us all. It would take the efforts of all our friends across all corners of Etheirys to grant us the passage to the Meteia who have nested in the furthest reaches of the existing universe.
There, in the grim darkness of that far realm, we witnessed the withered remnants of lost civilizations: The Ea, who abandoned their flesh for knowledge - realizing far too late that knowledge alone cannot satisfy them. The Omicrons, who pursued endless strength and overcame all their foes until nothing remained worth conquering. The Dragons, distant kin of Midgarsormr, who discovered that immortality cannot protect against grief.
Was I then, in my own pursuit of knowledge and self-improvement, doomed to repeat their mistakes? All of them failed differently yet in each, the Meteia reached the same hopeless conclusion. I had no clear answer at the time. All I could do was forge forward despite each of my companions willingly giving themselves up so the journey can continue.
As I neared the summit of the Meteia’s realm, my fellow Scions were no longer by my side. Maybe it was my imagination but I could’ve sworn that I heard voices.
Voices of friends, mentors, of enemies.
Those I failed and those I saved. People who believed in me.
‘Twas then I realized I was not alone. That I was carrying everyone who shaped who I’ve become.
Meteion and her sisters believed that history proves existence is meaningless. I cannot accept that. I would not accept that. I have come to believe that history is not merely a record of what was - but a teacher to those willing to listen.
The Meteia came to think that memories only prolong pain. But no, memories matter because it’s how we honor those who came before us. It’s how we will be honored by the ones who come after us.
The moments of shame, the hard-fought achievements, the lessons we learn, they all matter because we can pass them forward. And with each succession, we evolve. Little by little, we advance a bit further - towards an unknown future filled with the promise of all that have come before.
We were able to overcome the Meteia not because we disproved despair. Despair can never be vanquished outright. Suffering will always be part of life but we prevailed because we may yet choose hope despite despair.
History teaches us that while every age thinks itself upon the brink of despair, if even one soul chooses to build something rather than destroy, to remember rather than forget, to love rather than surrender, then another page will always remain unwritten. Hope can be easy beneath a cloudless sky. Hope that has earned its scars is a choice. And because it is a choice, it is never futile.
It has now been a few weeks since that momentous encounter in the stars. It all seems unreal now - as though I had wandered into one of the Wandering Minstrel’s tales.
Yet the peace before me is no dream. My friends whom I believed lost now laugh together in the next room whilst beyond these walls, the peoples of Etheirys begin the long work of rebuilding.
With the End of Days behind us, our fellowship has at last fulfilled the purpose for which it was founded. Today we part, each to walk our own road.
Before joining them, I found myself wandering the halls of the Rising Stones one final time. I suspect it may be a long while ere I’m back again. The rooms that had once been filled with strategy meetings and hurried deliberations now stood silent, holding only memories. The lone forgotten tankard upon the table seemed the final witness to all that had transpired here.
Yet even now, I find there is one page I am not yet ready to close. I rejoice that Hydaelyn’s long vigil has finally come to an end. But I cannot deny a measure of uncertainty. For as long as I have borne the mantle of “Warrior of Light”, I had always believed there was one soul quietly watching over our steps. Now the path before us belongs wholly to our own choosing.
There is a memory I find myself returning to. When first Hydaelyn appeared before me in Thavnair, I believed she had chosen to wear the face of mine mother. Yet when I later walked beside Venat in Elpis, I found that same countenance waiting for me in the distant past. Whether it was divine providence, cruel coincidence, or some mystery beyond my understanding, I cannot say. In the end, I came to know the woman behind the goddess - and found that to be enough.
And of Meteion and her sisters - I would like to think that we were able to convince her of the virtue of hope. Yet perhaps not every question is meant to be answered. I shall never know what became of her after we parted.
Nor shall I ever know what became of Zenos yae Galvus. In that silent place, so far removed from the wars and kingdoms that had defined our lives, I granted him the battle he had pursued for so long. Whether he lives or whether he found what he sought upon that lonely edge of creation, I know not.
Mayhaps in time, those answers shall come. Or mayhaps, they are not mine to uncover anymore.
For now, there remains much work before me. The time has come to return to those places I scarcely had the leisure to explore. Vistas to experience. Fauna and flora to record.
But not tonight.
Even now, I can hear laughter drifting through the corridor, the clinking of mugs, and familiar voices recounting adventures that already seem to belong to another lifetime. For the first time in many moons, there is no crisis demanding our attention. Only friends sharing one final evening beneath the same roof. I should not keep them waiting.
There shall be time enough tomorrow to begin another page.
-
Adrykes YthelredYear 1577, Sixth Astral Era
Excerpted from
The Wanderer’s Chronicles, Book VI:
The Unwritten Page
