Five Years... {Journal}

[Razamir Lahoka]

“Five years..

                  Five long years, stuck in what I can only explain in words as purgatory.”

 

Before you is a large weather beaten and worn journal.

 

 

The first entry is written clearly, and neatly.

 

 

Entry One:  Purgatory

 

The last thing I remember is seeing her sit up but was it a trick of my mind? I can’t be sure considering how distraught I was.  I remember speaking to her just before everything went to hell and Bahamut unleashed his wrath, but I can’t even be sure she is okay.  It seems I have awakened in a world that looked very much similar to our own.  At first I couldn't tell anything was different.  As time went by I started to notice things were not right. 

 

 

I awoke to a fog covered landscape.  It was as if everything had a fine mist over it.  I looked around as things started to form in the mists.  I called out hoping to be greeted by someone I knew, one of my tribesmen or even my lover.  The only response I was greeted with was the business end of a gunblade.  My body moved of its own will, my hand finding one of the many daggers I hand on, and let it fly like a screaming arrow through the mist.  I was rewarded with a bloody spray and the last sounds of a man dying.  My mind raced as went to search the fallen person.  It was a Garlean solider; my thoughts quickly went to the worst scenario.  Did the Garleans win?  Why were they out here, could they be searching for survivors?  I searched his person, and took his rations, and his supplies.  It wasn't long before the sounds of more footsteps seemed to grow closer, as well as the sound of heavy machina.  I ran into the mists hoping I would somehow be able to find my bearing and figure out just exactly where in the seven hells I was. 

 

Oh, how I couldn't have been more wrong.  As I ran, the mists seem to thin out, finally giving way to a view that looked very familiar.  It would seem at first that I was still on the same battlefield from that night. Every instinct I had told me this place had something very wrong about it.   As I made it into the clearing in front of me the mists seemed to vanish all at once, leaving me in the wide open plains, underneath that damn red moon.  It's accursed glow bathing the entire landscape in an eerie red, foreshadowing the blood that was destined to be spilled.  A moment later, the screams of war, overwhelmed my senses.  With my ears folded down, I scanned the scene unfolding out before me.  This was the battle that happened that fateful night.

 

What did I do to deserve this nightmare...

 

The writing trails off...

 

[Razamir Lahoka]

Entry Two:  Waking Nightmare

 

How long have I been in this world now? Time seems to have no real value here.  I've tried to keep track of how long I've been here in this journal, but I seemed to have lost track of the days.  Day and night seem to come at will it seems. The war has seemed to stop now.  These days I am plagued by images from my past. More specifically my brother.  He taunts me now endlessly about the death of my love. He tries to confuse and torment me with images of her death. I know she lives, or I believe she does.  Before I was taken I know I saw her alive yet he shows me images of her dead. Over and over he shows me her death. I can't let him break me down, I won't survive this place if I do.

 

He shows me the death of my keeper friend. He blames me, he said it was my fault she died. If I hadn't let my love die, then she wouldn't have had to die.  He continues to show me her death.  He shows me how beaten and bruised she was, he claims these were my fault for attacking him.  I don't know how much longer I can take this.

 

Days drag on, and he shows me the death of my tribesmen. He blames me for their deaths. Each day I see a new one's death.  It wears at my sanity, let this torment end. 

 

Night comes finally, it seems the torment has come to an end.  Let these nightmares haunt me no more.