Faihan 🎙️ Badr (gameel) wrote in elysia, @ 2022-04-16 18:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: badr al-asrar marwan, player: mikey, type: delivery, type: log/narrative |
WHO: Badr (ft. Zuya)
WHEN: Early Morning
WHERE: Serenitas
SUMMARY: Badr prepares to depart Serenitas, leaving only four letters behind.
CW: Mention of childhood illness.
I am leaving Serenitas. Whether I will return in the near future...I cannot say. I will return, however. Which is to say, I may be out of contact for a time, and I must rely on you to continue what we spoke of on that bluff.
If you need know more about why I do things so clandestinely, you may ask Kyoujiro. He knows nearly as much as I do, and perhaps he will offer a more succinct explanation for how things have come to this point. I am not in any danger at this time. Only that to do what I wish to pursue, I must leave these hallowed halls.
In the meantime, to learn more of where that is being kept...and to learn more, too, about how to access the place that we spoke of that lives below our feet... I reach out to you for these matters, because there is something that you might be more adept at than disguises...
That is to say, when we have plumbed the depths of what can be known through orthodox means...it is best to turn to the unconventional, and I believe that you may have more contacts among those not quite so high and mighty in Serenitas.
If you do not understand what I mean, then I suggest stepping outside the school for a few hours and mulling it over with the cheapest beer you can find in this city. There, you might arrive upon some yet unexplored ideas.
It is crucial that we find it...and that we are able to mitigate some damage.
I will contact you once more as soon as I am able.
Until then, godspeed.
And, if you would, please burn this note once read. It would be in your own interest to not have such a thing lying about.
[Added to Thora's letter alone: If you find anything of great worth before I return...please, trust me and reach out to Gaius. I know this seems strange, and perhaps you will now find everything I have said suspect, but have faith. I only ask because it is necessary.
And please...watch over Titus for me.]
I must leave for a time. There are things that I can only accomplish far from this place. If I sound like him, then I trust you understand why such extremes are necessary.
I hope you will continue your mission: to keep him from gathering whatever he may need to enact this tragedy. I hope that you will, too, do me the other favor I asked of you.
That leadership is innate—can exist in the blood, or be decided by something called destiny...
Really, as though even being the Chosen of Song should give one the utilities required to lead the hearts of a people...
Simurgh may have been lucky that Song's Chosen have only led us to prosperity and harmony, but a small, isolated country might be a boon when the central requirement for leadership is based on an arbitrary "specialness."
Still, I am Simurgh's leader.
I was not born to that role. Rather, I became her leader. Not because Song chose me. Not because I was told to wear special robes and recite ancient hymns. Not because the people asked me to share with them the wisdom of their god. I became her leader because I came to love those people, to find that love so precious, I would do most anything for it.
That is what I hope you will find in Guren. It is itself a gift of fathomless value.
I wish you luck on your mission. You may need to enlist the other Chosen for this, as well. No doubt Simurgh and Serenitas have already been pillaged for whatever might be of use to him, but there is yet RaĂg BhaistĂ and Donnersberg—besides Guren—where some necessary thing might be found. Go there, too. I know you believe yourself weak in his presence, but remember that you are the will of fire. You must burn for yourself and your own ideals first and foremost. If you remember this, I believe you will be strong enough to face even him.
After all, he is not our enemy.
But he is his own.
I will contact you again as soon as it is possible to do so. Until then, be well. Good luck.
Burn this after you have read it, if you will.
Titus—
I thought of asking you once more.
After all, I said I would not live as Kamaria...and I would prefer you were at my side. But maybe I am like her. Or rather, I find that perhaps there are many things that feel familiar to me now, as we walk through these complicated times—things that are perhaps somehow... And so I am afraid that I will break your heart. I thought, then, that it would be better not to ask you even one more time. I wonder now if any way is better, if there ever was a single thing I could do now that might not leave you bruised. Perhaps, then, these are only the words of a coward, because I would not be able to leave, to do what I aim to do, were I to see you in pain...and if you asked me to stay, even once more, I might lose my will to do this. I only hope that you will bear in mind: I promise to return.
I know you will want to know why, but I think that you—like my people—will not understand what I seek to do now, unless I have some proof of why it was useful or necessary to try. You see, though our nationalism is questionable and should be questioned, Simurgh's people also have been raised with the idea that they ought to question everything. It is a rather complex and broken situation, should I be frank. I think, perhaps, carefully curated criticism might be as dangerous or worse than blind faith. It is, at the very least, a hindrance to any real societal growth. Which is to say, Simurgh has gone on, refusing to question the right things, for hundreds of years now. No better than any other country.
Someday, I will return to them and right that, too.
But to better explain, when we speak of the Sacred Voice, we speak of the wisdom and compassion Kamaria gifted her people, her devotion to Simurgh, and her steadfast loyalty to Chosen Nasser. They married and adopted several children, which is not known outside of Simurgh. They were not able to have a child between them, but they nevertheless cultivated a large family, and that set the standard for our country...the "charitable" business of family, that is. I think, perhaps, I know why it is now—that she was not able to conceive with Nasser. It is our own form of "heresy" to bring up her relationship to the Chosen of Light. In our archives, you might find writings hinting at the truth—none as damning as the letter I transcribed to you. But you will not find a single word elsewhere in Simurgh that even begins to suggest the reality of their relationship. She buried her heart in Simurgh. I may break yours, but I will not bury mine; and if I have broken yours...I will heal it someday. I am, after all, the greatest living healer in Elysium.
Lately, however, I often consider Kamaria—and I consider Gaius, or Itzal—and I wonder... What is the purpose of sacrifice? Did Kamaria really make Simurgh, or anything else, better by breaking her own heart and sequestering herself away? Of course, Itzal achieved—for thousands of years even—a long-lasting peace. But it was not permanent. And his legacy was made up of lies...that to this day, harm you, harm him, harmed your father even... And while perhaps the first generations after the Shadow Catastrophe recalled something of what really happened in that time, time did not stop there. Slowly, things were forgotten or misremembered, and people became greedy, became callous, became moved by self-interest... Or they never stopped being motivated by these traits, and the opportunity to have was always more appealing than the danger of having not. So we stand here today, among men who would, in fact, ruin this world for...perhaps they see it as a great cause, or perhaps there is some reward? Or...perhaps they have forgotten hope.
I curse my ancestors, which is also a blasphemy in Simurgh. But I wonder how this world might have been if we had not hidden Song away. I have ruminated, since learning the shape of Song and Dragon, on what their true natures might be. I think that I have reached a conclusion. Even a song that has no magic behind it has power. You listen to the arias reflecting from the glass of Serenitas's cathedral (and I have listened many times, though I am no Crystalist)...and you weep with an ineffable joy. A lullaby puts a nervous child to sleep. A warsong stills the fears of men that they might march into battle. Song, then, draws something from deep inside every human heart—something that allows them to approach even the most impossible circumstances with mettle. Therefore, I put forward that Song is the element of hope. I have seen that it can reach places unimaginable. And that is no small part of why I must leave now. That which I must now learn cannot be found here, only hindered.
If I could have your faith...but I understand that trust is a thing that should be earned, not blindly given. No one should ask it of you, not without earning it. I hope you will remember that, too. But if I could have it so simply, if there was no reason to wonder—if you could only come to my side and remain there... I would show you the depths Song can reach, and I would prove to you, as much as your brother, that while you have both lived in a world that kept the greater part of hope obscured...that it lives, earnestly, goodly, still...and the force of it is more powerful than anything you have ever known.
Though now perhaps I sound like a megalomaniac—as though I am possessed of some awesome power. I assure you, I have not lost my grip upon this reality. Only that I must go to the ends of this world and sing in ways that have never been heard in Simurgh, or anywhere. I must summon monsters, and I must convene with things impossible. That is, after all, the only way to achieve the impossible.
All the answers that have been offered to us—though effective—have left pain in their wake. Humanity becomes wounded, generation after generation, and our race becomes covered in scars. Mad thoughts become reasonable. Destruction...becomes an acceptable option. Perhaps...too...that is only natural. The more that a country or a person has, the safer they may be. Simurgh did not lift a finger while the rest of the world fought and struggled. Donnersberg...was the victim of Guren's ambitions, but we saw both as warlike and hungry, and we would not provide succor for the suffering, even though many were innocent in their conflicts.
We turned a blind eye as Crystalism festered and became a thing that may now threaten existence itself.
I know. You cannot understand why I say such things. But I see Simurgh's role now in these things. Simurgh, which always enjoyed a richness of solitude...defended its position with make-believe ethics and self-serving principles. We, too, have perpetuated evil through our apathy and seclusion, and we will suffer along with everyone else if something is not done about it all.
Gaius will walk a familiar route—the one that he knows will work. He will not take risks, because the fate of the world depends on it. But I will not look to the known for answers. I must walk a road that has not yet been carved, because the answers that we have been given are not reasonable to me, and my unreasonable nature demands...demands that we arrive at a conclusion that leads to less pain, now and later; just as it demands that the world reshape itself, for my own selfish desire...to be with you.
But I have thought, too, long and hard on the matter of selfishness. Of course, I spent more of my life serving than searching for that which would answer the questions in my own heart. I resented it just as much as Gaius or Kyoujiro. I did not resent the people, but I resented every adventure Zuya enjoyed that I only heard about afterward. I resented the normalcy with which others could go about their lives, because they had me and Elpis—had these figures that they could gaze upon and say to themselves that Simurgh was fine...that they were safe, the way that a child looks up at his parents and does not know the anxiety that goes through their heads—the uncertainty and fear they face, not knowing how things may turn out—for the child need not fear. They feel protected in the knowledge that their guardians will protect them.
But I digress. Rather, I return to the unexpected benefit of selfishness. To deny oneself, or to be denied—though commonly it seems to be a matter of both, enacted simultaneously—is to become hard in places that should not be hardened. Resentment, bitterness, distance—these are the natural results of selflessness. One cannot connect to the world, or the people around them, in such a state of denial, because to be selfless is a truly hard act. Even a drop of selfishness may crush that resolve. But what is the good of martyrs? Once dead, no person has a say on history, or even how their story will be told. It may be misused; it may be misremembered, or misunderstood. Their story, now the domain of the living, might wind up a complete inversion of their purpose and values while alive.
And so I have and will continue to be a selfish man. I will want beyond what is offered or suggested to me, because to accept what is simply there is to accept all the shackles and broken things that are inherent in such a situation. Perhaps, in being such a selfish creature, others may see me as no better than those that would undo the precious balance of this world and lead us all to ruin. Perhaps my intentions will only cause suffering. Worse, perhaps I will bring suffering to those I wish only to protect. I cannot know. I am only human. But I believe selfishness is, itself, a form of hope. And those without hope...find cruelties that much easier to enact on those around them. Half of all evils come from inaction in and callousness towards the plight of others. As much as sadism, this indifference leaves those in peril without an ounce of pity—without an ounce of hope. It spreads and spreads.
Hope is a necessary ingredient in goodness. Happiness is a foundation of human kindness. Both require some amount of selfishness to exist. So perhaps I will cause suffering with my ambition and my idealism, but I will gamble, because I see that no better wagers are being made. Thus, why not? I would protect this world and everything upon it with what I have been given, because it was given and not inherited and not bestowed because I have some greater purpose. I am simply a man who was given a gift. Not because I merited it, but because the one offering it felt compassion for me—to save me. And because I was given a gift of second chances, I will endeavour to do the same.
How I ramble.
I am not ready to say good-bye yet.
So this is nothing as moving as Kamaria's final letter to Erlantz. I think, though, that she was better prepared to say farewell. I am not. That is why I have written you this letter, instead of braving an in-person sendoff. In the world I will usher in, there will be no need for us to utter anything like this vile "good-bye." We will stand together and face everything, plainly and honestly. But there must be a world to rehabilitate if it is to be remade in such a way. Such is the thinking of a healer.
I do not wish to end this letter, because I do not want these cherished days to end. Joy has been stripped away, and yet I cannot think of this place and this time without feeling the greatest, most profound happiness. Bittersweet, perhaps...but something that I had never experienced before. Perhaps, then, that is where my hope comes from. Because I know what joy a human heart can feel, and though as a species we might fall short, that we know such things, that such things live inside us...if I should require something to protect, what would be greater than this? The hope that someday someone else will stand in that gazebo and see the Bows with someone who makes them laugh and cry and want. The hope that snow will fall, and there will be warm hands to keep theirs from the bite of winter. Everything that you have given me this year, it too is a part of this.
Because, too, I want more than a few stolen hours, telling stories and licking the sap of fruit from our fingers. I want more than a dance under the heavy wreathes of your Serenitan flowers. I want your lifetime. The stars, after all, promised it to me, did they not? Your Bows.
Perhaps you will burn this, because some would say the heart of a coward is worth little. I am not a coward, though this effort is itself very cowardly. You may hold it against me later, as a thing to make up to you.
But here is a cruel revelation: because I do not know the road I will be walking, I do not know when I will next be able to contact you. I may be out of reach for some time. I may...miss things that I would not have wanted to miss, only that needs be demands I give up a little, too. I suppose I must ready myself for some small sacrifices, for life is not wholly without sacrifice. And to prevent a greater tragedy, maybe it is only natural that smaller ones must occur.
I will think of you every day. I will think of you every night. Perhaps if I can find a way to cross through the paths of dreams, I will find you before I can see you. But until then, I pray I dream of your face every night, until I can stand before you again.
Perhaps there is no such thing, but still I want it and wish for it: you are my destiny.
Badr