The Journal of Emily Marie Holt
Journal Entry 1
Aloha to whomever is reading this. I hope someone is. The past needs to be remembered for what it really was. I'm talking about the war. It wasn't something out of a fantasy book, it wasn't one of those crappy happily-ever-after stories. It was real. It was horrifying. I wish it had never happened. A part of me wishes I was never a part of it. There was a lot I had seen that cannot be unseen, a lot that was heard that cannot be unheard. A lot that was done, that cannot be undone. Our true enemy were the alien lifeforms that quickly became known as the Neuroi. But they were not our only enemies. Many of them came from within our own race. Brother turned on brother, sister turned on sister. The lines marking the difference between what was right and wrong were so blurred sometimes, it felt like I didn't know which way was up. All in the name of power and money. The politics of war almost drove me insane. I was ashamed to be a part of it. Still am.
My name is Emily Marie Holt. I am a witch. We were naturally chosen as the best weapon against the Neuroi because our magic was the best weapon against them. With our shields we could render their beam technology useless. With our strength, we could use weapons far larger and stronger than any normal foot soldier could. Our striker units, a fusion of magic and technology, allowed us to equip weapons that rivaled tanks and even a few ships. We were invincible. Or so we thought.
We may have been witches, but we were still mortal, and all too human. Our shields were only as powerful as the magic we could put into them, and we had a limited supply. The shields, while powerful, only blocked attacks from one direction. If we used the shield to block a frontal attack, we were completely vulnerable to being flanked. We were also far and few between, compared to the sheer number of normal soldiers. Perhaps one in every ten thousand people are witches in this world. We couldn't be everywhere at once. Although we were less prone to injury, and recovered faster, we still bled. Bones would still break. Hearts would stop beating. And while magic can be used to prevent death, it can do nothing to reverse it.
The war, while in many ways brought us together, was still a horrible thing. During the war, and even after, I saw the worst that life has to offer. On the other hand, however, I also saw the best. I made friends, lost them, made new ones. I know what heartbreak is. But I also know love, and what it really means. I know when to be merciful, and at other times relentless. I know when someone needs my help, or when they need their own help. In the war millions died, and millions more were scarred forever. And yet, life goes on. I am here, writing this today, to tell you my story. It would only make sense to start from the beginning, when I discovered my magic. My name is Emily Marie Holt. This is my story.