Journal

You notice that this journal isn't brand new but slightly used, some pages have been torn from the start of the book - as if this is how Wick made it "new". Some pictures are clearly drawn in pencil, some in scratchy ink.

It's clear that Wick has written in this before you all met.

On the inside of the cover, written in a slightly rusted ink is:

• I am justified.
• I am purified.
• I am sanctified.
• Inside you.

Followed by a pencil drawing.

I remember being a child, moreso, me, and the two other children that would be taught the same things I would. We were all thought to possess some sort of tie to The Hallowed One in some way or another and were expected to learn how to use it in the way the elders deemed so.

We would spend time in the greater chamber, in complete silence, deafeningly muffled by the way everything was insulated and draped in thick red velvets and banners. All three of us unaware of the world outside temple, raised that way until age seven or eight until we were placed amongst a group of other children.

"Learning to socialize" our handlers called it.

We from then on learned the same things as the other children, alongside the other lessons we'd have as God Touched.

However, and I believe this is the same for the other two, we didn't learn about the places we came from like the other ten children in class.

I was never interested in where to begin with.

Our other interests were entertained and we were encouraged to be curious about the occult, encouraged to be interested in learning about our deity and about the goings on at temple.

I felt... different. Considerably different compared to the other two.

I would have been fifteen when I felt the urge to break the rules set by the elders and handlers. I had the urge to enter the arch-chamber. A place reserved for fully fledged bishops. I had heard of the chamber before, draped in gauzes and silks and even more velvets than the greater chamber, that the floor was the most polished white rock that anyone had ever seen - enough to be reflective, that it felt like it extended forever with mirrors on all the walls so every single person and surface would have eyes on them.

That in that room was slightly raised dais, where it was said that you could stand in the center and feel the presence of The Hallowed One.

I wanted to stand there.

In all my young boldness, I left my bunk that night and snuck through the halls of temple to find the entrance to the arch-chamber that I had been studying from a distance. I almost don't want to write down what happened in that room, it feels like I'm still at risk of an instructor or handler reading through this and finding out - even though I'm thirty four. I didn't meet my god that night, sadly... but I did feel something strong, something that had moved me in a way I've become well accustomed to as an adult.

I have dreams of deities and angels, celestials.

I've talked about this with the other two, but they don't have the same dreams that I do - or the same feelings with The Hallowed One that I do... I find it interesting that they were raised the same way as me, read the same books I have read at the same times as me and learned the same rituals and languages, yet -- they are more interested in becoming bishops.

Our order doesn't often appoint clerics - or anything higher than a bishop or archbishop, as it's hard to truly embody The Hallowed One and all the things they take on for the benefit of the followers, but I aspire to do that one day. We take in all sorts of followers and people that seek out relief within our temple, but we don't exactly spread the word ourselves. Outside of temple, we don't advertise our faith or services unless we come across someone that we feel would truly benefit from the blessings. At most I can offer a prayer.

• I survived everything.
• I have tried everything.
• Everything, everything.
• And anything.
• Wave goodbye, wish me well, I've become something else.
• I will surely rise and wake, and wake, and wake, and wake, and wake.
• I am home, I believe.
• I am home, I am free.

There are more ripped out, and even some folded together, pages in the journal. They don't seem to hold anything of any importance on them (from what you can glean), words in short hand for things that you don't understand. The pages that come after these continue on in a similar way to the ones from earlier.

Celestials keep their magic like incredibly close guarded secrets, even from other celestial beings. More often than not, their magic - and reason for existence is from their gods; without them, they would be entirely powerless.

Much like their magic, their language is hard to learn and even parse... but not impossible.

Not all gods speak celestial, some with their own languages - like my own - but I spent my growing years learning both languages. The version of their alphabet that is in the example I drew above is an easier version to convert to common, but nowhere near as complicated as the true thing.

Having the simplified and easier to convert version is enough to get the attention of a celestial, though I have yet to meet more than a couple of summoned Deva.

Though I have yet to learn to summon them myself...

The only thing on these pages are two large, full page drawings. Both done in pencil and with a decent level of clarity for an image drawn without immediate reference. Underneath them is a tiny bit of text.

Deva, from memory.

Both of them were, naturally, interesting to me. Similar to Lights, Planetars and Solars. Though I can't depict it here, I remember the look of their silver and golden skin, also how their eyes had a gentle golden glow.

I don't know what the other two are doing, I know that one was learning what it took to be a Bishop - to take over from their teacher one day, but that's the extent of my knowledge. I grew apart from them when I felt that I had something different to do.

Ever since that night, when... what happened in the arch-chamber happened, I've been trying and trying and trying to keep that feeling. I wanted to hold on to it and let it grow within me, as I grew older, that feeling got stronger, as did my faith. I was always watching the to-be-blesseds coming in, though I wasn't allowed to interact with them, and I could just tell that The Hallowed One would take care of them and take away their pain.

I never once doubted the deity and I could tell in some odd way that they felt the same way about me.

I didn't have any physical contact with my god until I was well into adulthood. It happened in a waking dream, where I was perfectly lucid but definitely asleep, I could feel the weight and sag of my body as I lifted myself to stand, a presence was in my chamber and I could feel it at my back as soon as it was bare to the air. Fingers appeared from my peripheral vision, red in the way your flesh is when you hold them up to light, they covered my eyes and felt cool to the touch. I could feel the way my own skin went up in temperature, that it was almost unbearable as I started to sweat and things started to feel like a nightmare - until the hands over my eyes were removed and I was washed with an intense wave of... cold? heat. It was enough to chill my slick neck but kept my cheeks warm.

When I opened my eyes I was in the arch-chamber, standing on the dais. Only the dais. There was no floor or walls or ceiling, the room stretched on forever. I heard someone behind me, amused by what must have been my awe.

The thing that had taken me here was nowhere to be seen, even as I turned around. Instead I was met with a giant figure - multiple arms in front of them, main pair of hands laced together to prop up their chin as they gazed down at me with an array of ruby red eyes, soft smile on their face.

Naked, bare to the infinite room - and me - they stare at me. A beautiful echoing voice came from their lips, speaking in their tongue, they introduce themself to ME... as if I don't already know about them.

From then on I learned that there was more to them and me. After all the things I had heard, had learned as a child and teen and had done in that time... it wasn't even scratching the surface. They told me that there were tests and trials I had to do and overcome. Scars I had to make and wear and take for others to make them happy - to make me happy.

And I will.

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