Dear Diary 4
February 7th 2009 03:37
Dear Diary,
The days seem to be getting longer in a sense that has nothing to do with the time of year. There is simply more and more to do each day. Bannon left during a council meeting today, partway through the meeting; he went to Appollinia and helped some farmers. It's like he was throwing himself into the day's work on the farm just to calm himself down, to withdraw from our desperate situation.
Because it gets more and more desperate each day. Yesterday I talked of it, but I did not say all that there is to say. There is so much more. There are children starving in the streets. There are children being sold as slaves underground, and we are in no real position to help them. Crime runs rampant in times of poverty.
Men and women are starving to give food to their children. It is a miracle that plague does not strike; I hold it off still, though it is difficult. I can feel it trying to break free of my grasp. The plague wants to devour humanity now, while it has a chance.
I will not let this suffering continue. It must be stopped; I will fight for it just to end. I must fight for it to end. The people depend on me. And I depend on them, in a way. I care deeply for all the people of Appollinia. It is that caring which brings me gut wrenching feelings of heartbreak each time I watch another one die.
There has been war before, throughout the milennia. Though they were never fully forgotten by humanity, it would seem that they soon will be. This war will stand out; it will be the war to end all wars.
Through the last two milennia humanity has been peaceful; acts of violence were not uncommon, but they were not constant. War simply did not exist except in legends and the songs of bards-the bards never forget. Not one war, not one moment in history. Not one song about the Gods, good or bad.
Some things must not be forgotten, and it is the Elves and the Drakor that hold onto the knowledge, and using this knowledge they give advice to the humans. Perhaps the humans should listen to more of it, but at least the words have been said.
I am afraid though that this war has been much more than any before it; we could potentially destroy Appollinia with this war. Kill every living being, and purely by accident, simply by chasing this and losing our control. We must keep control, solidarity; we must be strong together.
Our enemy wants that and I know this. But at the same time, would it not be rather to his advantage to merely enslave our people, not destroy everything? Then his people would do nothing, would be nothing. But perhaps they already are.
His people live in his shadow, performing his bidding; they try to do all that he asks of them, and perhaps he asks too much. When he longs for perfection in his students, when he longs for perfection in his people, he longs for far too much. He does not appreciate the people as they truly are, and this is his mistake.
I do not know what I ever saw in him, for now I see the monster. As he works his people to the bone I see the monster. All in the name of overcoming us; we did not start this war. But what he does not know is that we will finish it. We will emerge victorious, no matter that his people were ready to march before ours; no matter that he prepared his army while I stood by, blind to all that he truly was. For now I can see. I can see the truth.
The truth is that we must win, for there will be nothing left for us if we do not. What are Gods without people to rule over and protect? What are people without Gods to help them? I wonder that, sometimes, when I see the times we fall. When I see the Gods angry, fighting amongst themselves, and when I see them scared to lose our people. I wonder what we will become should the famine truly kill them, and I watch as Bannon tries so hard not to let that happen.
He takes it all on, as his responsibility. It isn't, but he seems to think that it is. His only real responsibility should be to those who worship him actively, in this moment in time. But I watch him as he tries to bring food to all, to give food to all. Our magic is used for war; to keep our armies fully mobilized in the human world is not easy. But in spite of his exhaustion Bannon tries to make the people happy.
He tries so hard that sometimes I expect him to fail. I expect him to just cave to the exhaustion; and then I remember that we are Gods. We can work ourselves to the bone, work ourselves tirelessly each day, be utterly exhausted, and still keep going. That is the power of the Gods. That we can still keep going.
But it isn't easy, and it's not really something he should be doing. He pushes so hard and I'm just scared that one of these days he's going to push too far. I don't know what to do about it. I'm not really all that afraid for him. I have faith that he can stop himself from going over the edge. But every now and again I wonder. Every now and again I'm afraid.
~Astarael
The days seem to be getting longer in a sense that has nothing to do with the time of year. There is simply more and more to do each day. Bannon left during a council meeting today, partway through the meeting; he went to Appollinia and helped some farmers. It's like he was throwing himself into the day's work on the farm just to calm himself down, to withdraw from our desperate situation.
Because it gets more and more desperate each day. Yesterday I talked of it, but I did not say all that there is to say. There is so much more. There are children starving in the streets. There are children being sold as slaves underground, and we are in no real position to help them. Crime runs rampant in times of poverty.
Men and women are starving to give food to their children. It is a miracle that plague does not strike; I hold it off still, though it is difficult. I can feel it trying to break free of my grasp. The plague wants to devour humanity now, while it has a chance.
I will not let this suffering continue. It must be stopped; I will fight for it just to end. I must fight for it to end. The people depend on me. And I depend on them, in a way. I care deeply for all the people of Appollinia. It is that caring which brings me gut wrenching feelings of heartbreak each time I watch another one die.
There has been war before, throughout the milennia. Though they were never fully forgotten by humanity, it would seem that they soon will be. This war will stand out; it will be the war to end all wars.
Through the last two milennia humanity has been peaceful; acts of violence were not uncommon, but they were not constant. War simply did not exist except in legends and the songs of bards-the bards never forget. Not one war, not one moment in history. Not one song about the Gods, good or bad.
Some things must not be forgotten, and it is the Elves and the Drakor that hold onto the knowledge, and using this knowledge they give advice to the humans. Perhaps the humans should listen to more of it, but at least the words have been said.
I am afraid though that this war has been much more than any before it; we could potentially destroy Appollinia with this war. Kill every living being, and purely by accident, simply by chasing this and losing our control. We must keep control, solidarity; we must be strong together.
Our enemy wants that and I know this. But at the same time, would it not be rather to his advantage to merely enslave our people, not destroy everything? Then his people would do nothing, would be nothing. But perhaps they already are.
His people live in his shadow, performing his bidding; they try to do all that he asks of them, and perhaps he asks too much. When he longs for perfection in his students, when he longs for perfection in his people, he longs for far too much. He does not appreciate the people as they truly are, and this is his mistake.
I do not know what I ever saw in him, for now I see the monster. As he works his people to the bone I see the monster. All in the name of overcoming us; we did not start this war. But what he does not know is that we will finish it. We will emerge victorious, no matter that his people were ready to march before ours; no matter that he prepared his army while I stood by, blind to all that he truly was. For now I can see. I can see the truth.
The truth is that we must win, for there will be nothing left for us if we do not. What are Gods without people to rule over and protect? What are people without Gods to help them? I wonder that, sometimes, when I see the times we fall. When I see the Gods angry, fighting amongst themselves, and when I see them scared to lose our people. I wonder what we will become should the famine truly kill them, and I watch as Bannon tries so hard not to let that happen.
He takes it all on, as his responsibility. It isn't, but he seems to think that it is. His only real responsibility should be to those who worship him actively, in this moment in time. But I watch him as he tries to bring food to all, to give food to all. Our magic is used for war; to keep our armies fully mobilized in the human world is not easy. But in spite of his exhaustion Bannon tries to make the people happy.
He tries so hard that sometimes I expect him to fail. I expect him to just cave to the exhaustion; and then I remember that we are Gods. We can work ourselves to the bone, work ourselves tirelessly each day, be utterly exhausted, and still keep going. That is the power of the Gods. That we can still keep going.
But it isn't easy, and it's not really something he should be doing. He pushes so hard and I'm just scared that one of these days he's going to push too far. I don't know what to do about it. I'm not really all that afraid for him. I have faith that he can stop himself from going over the edge. But every now and again I wonder. Every now and again I'm afraid.
~Astarael
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