Arcane Truths

Journal #2

October 5th:

I've spent the last month vigorously researching any possible hints or leads I can into the arcane, specifically for that beast I saw, and I must say how little we know is astounding.

Near the end of my wits with research, I did find a single clue that has led me deeper into the arcane world. Through hearsay and local legends, I was aimed in the direction of a small tribe that lived on the outskirts of town, hidden away from modern society. I set forth on a mission to locate and question them about what they could know.

The outskirts of town were not a pleasant place. The town itself is bordered by cemeteries and poor neighborhoods, sectioned off so the affluent and upperclassmen of society could feel comfortable and removed from the problems their own money and status create...I was once one of them, a fool who cared not for the poor or less fortunate but now through this new lens of life I realize the world is still too unknown to squabble over who's rich and who's poor.

Hmm, this is slowly turning into a social class rant, that is all beside the point, I made my venture to the outskirts of town. The thick fog gave the air a harsh taste, made my mouth feel as if it was filled with sludge. The ground was muddy, with each step I felt my boots sink a little deeper. None of that compared to the unsettling sight of the graves, randomly placed around the cemetery, some vandalized with crude drawings and harsh language. Others completely toppled over as if kicked down & the sheer number of graves was overwhelming, who knew so many people died so frequently.

Once through the cemetery, I found myself in a dense forest. It was just as unsettling as the cemetery but the ground was much more sturdy and the fog not as thick. It was better terrain so I took that as a slight victory. That's when I saw it, just behind some trees a large tent was set up. Black linens draped the top of the tent and dark, almost blood-like, red linens made the walls of the tent. It was tightly secured to the ground with spikes. There was a symbol of a white crow on one of the dark red linens, sitting right above what appeared to be an entrance to the pitch-black depths of the tent.

Crows began stirring about when I took steps towards the tent, I tried to move as silently as possible, not to startle anything. I soon realized tucked beside the tent was a small cart. Like the tent, the cart was painted black & red in the pattern of an almost hypnotic swirl. Thin strips of grey ran along the bottom of the cart, outlining the wheels. The door was plain black with the same crow symbol etched into it. Beneath the crow symbol read the words "kinshala".

No sooner than me inching forward and taking in the cart did its side door swing open. In its path stood a large man, his skin was dark yet it shone a beautiful glimmering black in the light of the moon, like obsidian gems. His hair was long, knotted, and in locs, that swung down by his shoulders. It was pure silver in color and just like his beautiful gem-like skin, his hair shone in the moonlight. He stood the full size of the door's height with muscles so large and defined he just barely fit the width of the door as well. He quickly stepped down the stairs and looked at me as he walked towards the tent slowly pulling back one curtain of the tent's entrance. He then signaled me to enter the dark pit that was the tent while saying “ please enter, she's been waiting for you” in a voice that was so deep and smooth it felt like the trees beside me and the earth beneath my feet were the ones talking.

I don't think I can fully explain in words the amount of fear that ran through my body at this moment. To have a man, who towers over you in every aspect, tell you to enter a tent that looks like the black pits of hell. Not only that but claim someone inside is waiting for me. Was this my death? How did he even know I was coming? Who was this “she” he mentioned? These questions quickly plagued my mind as I hesitated. I never made contact, informed, or even hinted to anyone that I would be visiting here, and for them to be expecting me ?….well the thought paralyzed me, at least I thought it did. At that moment I remember feeling as I did when I first witnessed that beast, in the shape of a man, feed on that woman. My curiosity, it seems, controls my instincts because before my brain could process these questions, my body had already begun walking toward the tent, ducking under the opening, making my way inside.

The inside of the tent reeked of death and decay, I've never felt my stomach churn so fast, only for my mind to be taken aback by the décor. It looked larger inside then I perceived outside, all along the linen walls were makeshift shelves holding jars of dismembered body parts, some were of humans, some were animals, most were...unknown to me. All floating in jars of green putrid looking water. I fell to my knees when I spotted the human skeleton placed upright in a rocking chair, its arms and legs on the ground beside it as the torso seemed perfectly placed in the chair to be staring right at me.

“What is this place?’” I shouted back hoping the large man would walk in and explain himself but no such thing happened. Instead, I was greeted with a very faint, raspy voice. It sounded like nails scratching against the blackboard mixed with the late-night hissings of a cat “ welcome to my den” it said right in my ear.

I turned quickly to see who spoke and that's when I saw...her. A short woman with long silver hair, her skin was a leathery pale grey hue covered in wrinkles. She had no muscle definition, just the bones that were practically visible through the skin. At this moment I realized the odor I originally thought was the room was radiating off her. Being so close to the source worsened the sick feeling in my stomach, it was so powerful it felt like death was creeping up my nose and attempting to drag me down to the rotten pillars of hell that very instant.

But none of that compared to her eyes. I call them eyes because I have no other word for them. They were sunken in, no visible pupils or eyeballs, just two black voids that seemed to go on endlessly into her head...into her soul. Those big black holes fixed on me...I realized I wasn't just looking at her but she was staring into me...I felt bare in front of those cold depths that were her eyes. And then she smiled, a wide grin from ear to ear, almost as large as her face in length.

She simply grinned at me, then proceeded to call me by name. The only words she spoke were “ Genesis Drake, the investigator, arrives to begin his training” with a slight chuckle as she walked into the back of her tent disappearing into a dark corner. The man outside pulled open the drape and ushered me to the cart with one of his large hands firmly gripping my shoulder. So here I sit on a makeshift bed not entirely sure if I'm allowed to leave but intrigued by this training and getting to the bottom of how she knew she would be meeting me.

I've been told to rest and that all questions will be answered in the morning if I can even get any sleep in this old cart. Tonight I sleep with my pocket blade close, hoping I won't have to use it.

G.C.D.