Listen carefully.
If you are reading this now, it seems I am already dead. This diary will only get out to public if I die. So, to whoever is reading this, let this be a warning to you. You see, I fear the worst for everyone in our beautiful ice city of Airim. Airim, the capital city of the Water Daemon's kingdom. A city laden with sparkling ice, layers of magical snow that glimmers in the gentle sun, masking the simple town houses built of such materials of those like stone with windows of ice and doors of painted dark wood in contrast with the light nature of this natural beauty.
Ah, I think I got a bit too into it by the end, there. I do apologise, but I simply cannot get enough of this... beautiful city. Am I perhaps using that word too much? Maybe so, although I believe it fits Airim perfectly. You simply won't know how much it melts my heart (ironic, I know) to see how lively and warm such a cold-built city can be. I cannot express how much I will miss Airim and all of it's people. I don't wanna miss out any of the smaller surrounding town either, mind. They're all as stunning- aha! A new word- as each other. The whole kingdom is nothing short of a masterpiece, something the all great Master Afurma, creator of the Water Daemon's Kingdom and the current King's long Grandfather should be very proud of. I, myself, am a proud man to say I have once met the current King- let's call him by his name just for this, Damerone- and it was one of the best experiences I've ever had. Damerone was such a gentle man at heart, so much for his frightening status. The same was true for his two children; one, a fair-skinned young lad, with the reddest of hair, in great contrast with the sparkling blue wings folded at his back and eyes like the summers sky and ocean at the horizon line. Needless to say he was a strong man, accuracy with a gun like none I've ever seen before. The other child was a slight darker-skinned younger girl, with waist length hair of auburn brown, a single shimmering blue streak, radiating with magic, running through it. Her eyes were the splitting image of her brothers, her smile so warm and friendly, in such contrast to how I saw her commanding my brother.
Ah, now, speaking of, let's forget about all that for a moment, as I now need to explain what I am doing right at this point. As it turns out I am standing- well, he is standing and I am siting down- next to my brother as he looks over the cliff in this woods. He has been gifted with an unseen (ironic, again) power given only to her majesty the princess's most trusted soldiers. The power to see into the next realm; a real of creatures of opposite nature to us.
The are called Angels.
Angels that possessed a similar, yet so different, magic to us Daemons; fire. Now, do not get me wrong, these creatures are far from the legends humans foretell. They are far from the all good and gorgeous beings humans say they are. I am not meaning for you to take this as me saying they are such opposites, as I am not saying that at all. Some, I will admit, will do anything it takes for the good of others, they will save lives even if it costs them their own in return. Although that's not all true. Some are greedy, fuelled by the utterly stupid idea that you can be the best in all the lands if only you have more power than the rest.
They are power hungry.
Bloodthirsty.
Although the same can be said for Daemons too. I find there no point in lying about that. But as I was saying, we are here at the cliffs on a mission. A mission to uncover the truth. For centuries now, Angel's and Daemon's have been at a bittersweet rivalry. Never, however, has it turned to anything more than a few unsettled arguments between the two major councils.
Not once had it turned to war.
We just... Did not get along.
However a few weeks back to today, the council had received a letter, details of which I cannot explain for obvious reasons: I simply don't know what it says at this moment in time. We had been told to go the the cliffs edge in the middle of the Dark Woods- or, well, my brother had- to have a look at whatever he could lay his eyes on. And he'd decided to take me with him.
Right, so, here we are. I will skip past all the waiting, as I do not know what he can see as I only have the eyes of a normal Daemon, and skip to right now, where I can here rustling in the bushes. I am coming to the end of this page, now, as you can tell, and I fear I won't need any more, as I will have joined the Fallen. My brother looks around, confirming to me that he too heard the noise. I am now on my feet, so I apologise if my writing is a little harder to read. My brother has just told me to put the book down. But I won't. These next few minutes are going to be important ones. He sighs again, walking over to the bush of which the rustling was made.
It is now I realise that was just a distraction as I see an arrow narrowly miss the pen I am writing with and hit him right in the back, going through his heart. His eyes have widened, and he collapses on the floor, all seeing eyes now looking at nothing my darkness. I've turned around, and have come face to face with a-
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Memories of a Traitorous Paradise
FantasyMy name is Arramist Blackwater, and I live in the small oceanic village of Mizuma, where peace and selflessness is everybody's middle name... All her life, Arramist has dreamed of liveliness and danger, of supposedly following in her lost father's f...