Godkiller - The Lumberjack Journal - 11 - Acting Only Out of Pattern

I’m not sure where to begin. Millennia old yet I’ve never written a journal. I should just get started, shouldn’t I? If I don’t untangle the knots in my mind soon, it may never unravel into a useful shape.

I write this from one of Audran’s highest bell towers. It has quickly become my preferred escape. The clergymen caring for the bell have a small closet near the top. Filled with tools and acids used to make the bell shine brightly. It’s become my entrance to this perch.

One of the priests stashes a secret sketchbook up here to draw landscapes of the city. He is not a particularly gifted artist, but he is dedicated. I have been leaving dropped coins on the steps as a secret thanks for my use of their tower. It’s a good place to think.

Audran is a beautiful city. Not like the cities of old, not even close. More a symbol of resilience than anything else. I have had to talk my brother out of destroying it two times now, and I fear he is still toying with the idea. I can’t wrap my head around what he hopes to gain from razing the city. It’s not like him to hide his intentions from me.

I’m avoiding the task I set out to do with this journal. Let me begin again: I have been having strange visions. I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and I find my mind wanders off to the same image. A haunting black dog. Its gaze is penetrating. Knowing. As if it sees the stains on my very soul.

It may be my brother’s doing, however, I have the proper protections against him put in place. They have never failed me before, but no seal is perfect against his power. Once he sets his mind to something, he cannot be stopped. I take refuge in the fact that I cannot conceptualize what he would stand to gain from this.

So, that leaves two options. Some force other than my brother is influencing me, a task that is not so easily done. Or, I am going mad. The latter seems most likely, given the circumstances. And my history.

When I experience these visions, I feel a vivid sensation. A beckoning. A pulling. I can’t explain it well. The closest thing I can compare it to is when you hear a strange noise for the first time, and can’t tell precisely which direction it is coming from. Then each time you hear it again, you perk up, trying to track down its origin. But it is sourceless. You can imagine my frustration.

 Again, my mind could be playing tricks on me. I have more than enough reason for that. Especially as of late. My brother has created yet another of his wicked disciples. I think this one might be the most deranged yet. She revels in slaughter and manipulation, and her power is surreal. I am not sure how one would kill something like her.   Nalia may be the most wretched person I have ever met. Why do I continue to help these people? I once justified it as belief in my brother and in honor of all who died before us. I am beyond that now. I have been numb to his evil for too long, acting only out of pattern. Maybe I have gone mad because I’ve finally come to my senses.