How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Aim for the Head

Extracted from the first recovered diary of Sectumsempra.

Day T–9 – The Calm

I've been hearing some odd talk lately about some sort of rabies going around; reminds me of when the black wolfs around Bastok got crazy a few years back and started coming out during the day and biting any who they crossed. I hear over yon in Bastok, Cid's been busy trying to find some sort of cure or reason for it with the help of an Elvaan doctor from Jeuno. Sure as hell hope that it's nothing, because I can't take the hit; soup just doesn't make nearly as much money as sushi, and I really gotta pay to finish my schooling in Windurst.

Day T–3 – The Good in the Bad

Well, I was able to afford a new staff and ring because everyone is panicking and stocking up on soups or medicines (oh boy, Megan Fox is really fortunate I let her set her use my shop to start herself off a few weeks ago; she'll be ready to open alone in no time). The customers, they really won't tell me much; even though I'm their cook, I'm still just a kid to most of them. A new customer wandered in today––I do believe his name was Lu Doggy––and told me that he was being followed during the night by something creepy, but couldn't figure it out.

Day 0 – Hell's Mouth

Today, I killed my best friend. Everything happened so... so fast. Last night and early into this morning Jeuno was flooded with travelers from all over. I heard a few of them were pretty messed up and taken into hospitalization on the upper parts of the city. My shop was kept so busy today that I had to hire a few tarus off the street to help out. People were grouping together to stay safe. I figured that whatever was going on, Jeuno would be fine; right? It was the massive city of our world.

Then it happened. Around midday, everything went crazy from tension. People started attacking each other over simple arguments; an Elvaan ranger held me at gun point around one in the day and told me to empty out my safe as he gathered all the supplies. Unfortunately for him, Wolfgang just so happened to be on a supply run for Doctor Monberaux, whom had just arrived back from Bastok a few hours ago.

Later on, Meg came back from a break with a bite mark on her arm. We cleaned her up best we could. She said that some creep came out of the shadows and attacked her. She was pretty shaken up, but we got her disinfected in time. I could only think, though: they said that whatever was going around was like rabies: could that mean...

It did mean that. By dinnertime, Jeuno was a mob scene. There was a fire ravaging through Ru'Lude gardens and people were attacking each other. I didn't understand what was going on until I heard some groans coming from the back of the shop where Meg was laying down. I locked up my door again and went to see if I could do anything for Meg.

She had "turned" to something of nightmares. I saw her hovering over the body of one of the tarus I employed that day and...

I can't. I can't say it, but I can write it. Just... need a second.

She was digging into its stomach with her teeth, just ripping it to shreds with those sharp Mithran teeth of her's. She saw me and dropped the taru and started walking towards me.

I panicked, really, really badly. I called out to her to stop but she kept walking. Looking back, I should have bound her and gotten the hell out of there.

But I didn't. She lunged at me and all my lessons flew through my head at once as my time learning dark arts took over. I grabbed my stave and held it out, and she was stunned. I looked her in the eyes and saw nothing left of my friend in them. With a flourish and an incantation I began casting a spell that I knew would kill her.

I electrocuted Meg, my best friend, with such power that her body crumbled. I stumbled to the door and ran through the chaos.

It was hell out there. Jeuno was overtaken by lawlessness and "turned." Now here I am, hiding out on an airship with a few other survivors led by the Ducal Guards. We'll have to dock for fuel in a few hours, but for now we're all left wondering: what the hell was going on?

Day 1 – On The Good Ship Lollipop

Pherimociel, one of the Ducal Guards, almost got us all killed. While the others slept,"safe" aboard our airship, he also "turned." Apparently, even the spit of those that have been "turned" can turn someone else. I was awake, sitting on the back of the deck and writing in this book. It's all I've got left. Pherimociel stumbled down to the deck and began sniffing the air like a wolf looking for prey. I think the turned can smell fear, because he looked where I was (even though I wasn't in sight with only the feint traces of light there were) and began stumbling to me. I grabbed my stave, but my throat locked up. I wasn't a killer: I couldn't do this. I couldn't even scream. That was when I heard the voice of a tarutaru yell out, "Not the boy, you son of a bitch!" and watched as Pherimociel suddenly exploded. The taru's name was Dasva, and I owe my life to her. All I remember was finally passing out then.

Day 6 – Around The World in 5 Days

Bastok was almost empty. I'm starting to get used to all the dead bodies hanging around. We tried to appeal to the Empress of Al Zabi for sanctuary last night but she refused: she could not risk bringing the plague to her own lands. She offered condolences and resupplied us with fresh food and materials, which was great because we were pretty much out. The survivors and the ducal guards had a meeting while we were docked, talking about the need to stick together and help ourselves run. I'm the only one on the ship that has a massive background of cooking, so I've been elected the chef of the ship. We keep trying to hang on to some vestiges of society, despite the rumors over the intercoms from the other airships that life is pretty much destroying itself down there.

Day 7 – A Note

We're going to have to dock back in Jeuno. Oh god...

Day 8 – It's Not Easy Being a Mage

This morning Wolfgang organized another meeting where he split us up by our talents fighting. When I had reached the front of the line to tell him my credentials he put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was hanging in there. I guess being a kid in the middle of all this makes people care a bit more about you. He asked what I was trained in besides crafts, to which I could only reply "I can cast almost every spell, white or black or forbidden, but I've never finished formal education in any one of them." Wolfgang looked at his list, stroking his chin, and simply said, "Then you're part of our special op's unit. That makes two. Go to the captain's cabin."

So I went, and who would have thought: the only other person there was the taru that saved my life, whom I now know to be Dasva.

Day 9 – The Black Mage Cannon

Our "Special Ops Unit" consists of a handful of people that are to go on the most suicidal of missions. One of them is a mithra ranger that could probably kill me fourteen ways by the time I could cast a stun spell––my teacher says I need more fast cast. She's the leader of our group and answers only to Wolfgang. She doesn't talk much, but I think her name is Alyria. Wolfgang spoke to Dasva and I in privacy; Dasva, apparently, was wanted for a slew of crimes and was offered total amnesty if the world was ever to go back to normal. Part of this deal was that Dasva would get my mage skills into shape so that we could start to assemble a "Cannon." Dasva knows much, and so long as I show willingness to listen and learn, I sense that I will have no problem with my new "teacher." Wolfgang also made me write down the hundred or so recipes I could remember off the top of my head in case I died in battle. Joyous.

Day 10 – Our Mission (Should we choose to accept it…)

Yesterday was the first "mission" for my team. We docked in Port Jeuno and the sound of an airship attracted all those who had turned. Our mission: secure Delkfutt's Tower. They were going to drop us off and come back in 10 days. On the tenth day, we were supposed to guide them to Delkfutt. The others were going to mob–raid on Bastok to rescue Cid, who sent a distress beacon out. My group and I massacred Port Jeuno. There were a few survivors left in the Mog Houses that gave us what little we could. Thank God for showers... we smelled pretty bad.

While we showered Alyria had apparently gone on to Lower Jeuno and managed to grab clothes and possessions that belonged to those of us who lived there permanently before this plague. I had to hold back tears as she held up Meg's Caduceus and alchemy set and asked if it would help us. I'll be setting up the alchemy portion in Delkfutt for public use: Meg would like that, her work helping people.

Day 11 – Yeah, we had to accept it…

We set out for Qufim in the morning and were absolutely amazed at what we saw. The Turned had already infiltrated Qufim by the hundred and seemed to be attempting to fight the current life there to take over. Though I was never fond of pugil––they had nothing good to cook with––I found myself strangely disheartened as I saw them losing the fight against The Turned.

We fought through the tunnels to find that the archane Weapon fiends were successfully fighting off a hoard of the Turned on their own. We had time, time enough for––on Alyria's orders––Dasva to teach me how to cast a tier III fire spell that would torch an entire lot of them at once. Dasva, she took out a good thirty of them in one stroke and then started to run as those that only got splashed on the outskirts began chasing her.

Now mind you, Tarus can run fast for creatures that have no visible knees. I listened to the tips that Dasva had been giving me passively since we met and began to chant the same spell.

It wasn't as pretty or powerful as Dasva's and was only a bit more powerful than a tier II spell, but it did the job. For a first time, I'd suppose I did fine. That group of the Turned had been finished.

We left the tunnels and Alyria took one of the others in our Special Op's Group to take point. Stikle, a beastmaster and dragoon by trade, was talented in spears, axes, and the critters of the world. Dasva and I rested as we watched Alyria pull out a gun and slowly walk towards the exit to the tunnels. She motioned to Stikle to hold back until her first shot was fired.

Stikle clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth three times and his wyvern awoke, whom had been riding on his pet crab. It would appear as though the wyvern and the crab took turns guarding each other; the wyvern stayed awake at nights and hunted for the crab, who allowed him to ride on his back during the day. It was a little funny, in a way: the animals were more peaceful with each other than we were.

I digress––

Alyria exited the cave and fired a shot into the air that was so loud that the Turned could be heard gathering from far away. They murmured, groaned, and sometimes shrieked when in large groups. She turned to Stikle, nodded, and the two climbed up onto the rock pillars on the small opening before the open island. Stikle's wyvern flew forth to scout for more of the Turned and round them forth.

His crab began to run forward upon a command from his master. Crabs, apparently, can run at about the same speed as a Taru. When I next saw the crab it was being chased by a group of The Turned.

Stikle and Alyria massacred the group. I was beginning to get used to this: killing was slowly becoming the norm, rather than the exception.

Dasva and I were backing the other two up when we began to see Gigases in the distance approaching us as the night set in. I paused, a little frightened now: a Turned Gigases would be very, very dangerous.

The Gigases, like the Weapons, had been fighting The Turned. Alyria and Stikle had decimated the Turned that had shown up and were simply watching The Gigases as they approached.

Alyria mounted her gun and aimed at the head of one of them. When they could see us, one of the Gigases had stopped and raised his two hands in the air, his palms open. The other carried a large pelt, and also stopped. I watched as Alyria began to pull her trigger...

"Don't do it," I said. I had a growing suspicion that Gigases were not so dull as they seemed. She glanced at me, her gaze as sharp as daggers. "I think they mean to parley."

It was one of the first times I ever heard her speak as she said, "You do it then; don't blame me when you die. I don't have time for bleeding heart children."

I stopped. Two weeks ago, this would have seemed impossible.

I took my rucksack off my back and rummaged through it. I had a cape, a trophy from a rat I had once defeated on a trip to Zabi with a few of my dearest friends, that would serve the purpose of showing a peace offering. I left my rucksack behind; if I was bludgeoned to death, it was more use to the others for the food and ammunition.

I had the feeling that Alyria almost hoped I was smashed as I walked over to the Gigases, holding the cape out in my hand, and stood in front of them. I placed the cape on the ground and stepped a few feet back.

The other gigas placed the pelt on the ground and did the same. The other one slowly said, ". Speak. And. You. ." He took the cape and I took the pelt as he said, "Come."

I paused and turned around. I heard Alyria swear under her breath, the wind carrying it to me, as I called out, "Go on without me; I'll meet you at Delkfutt."

Day 12 – Parley Early Morning

I had heard rumors that the Gigases came from a faraway land on massive boats, but I did not quite believe it until they led me through a swarm of Turned and down a mountain path to the beach where the Sea of Shu'Meyo met Qufim. There were a few enormous boats in the sand, each at least four times the size of the ferry between Selbina and Mhaura. I was taken aboard and we sailed to a strip of land just off the coast of Qufim. I suppose that the Gigases understood the dangers of The Turned and got the hell out of there when they could.

They led me to a particularly ugly Gigas with a crude iron helmet on his head that sat on a strangely articulate chair made of timber. Attending him was a particularly small Gigas, seemingly a runt. I handed the uglier one the pelt that I had been given, unsure of what else to do.

At this point, the runt shocked me by speaking in more than half formed grunts.

"Adventurers and Gigas once enemies. Flesh–monsters not adventurers. Not taste like, not scream like, not smell like. Flesh–monsters kill many Gigas to eat. Why? Gigas eat flesh–monster, Gigas die; Gigas eat Gigas."

I was a bit stunned, but managed to answer to the best of my ability that we had no idea what was going on. The runt relayed that to the ugly one, who said something in Gigan.

"Adventurer and flesh–monsters enemy. Gigas and flesh–monster enemy. Gigas afraid."

I simply replied, "Adventurers afraid, too. Adventurers run, hide, no win fight. Want hide in Tower. Make Tower safe."

The runt relayed that, and then relayed a message that could possibly have changed the course of our history as we knew it:

"Adventure, Gigas, friend. Tower for adventurer, tower for Gigas. No eat adventurer, no kill Gigas."

"No eat adventurer, no kill Gigas," I said. Perhaps this whole ordeal with The Turned had opened my mind a bit and jaded it, but this hardly seemed surreal to me.

It seems like the Gigases understand that we could be wiped out and that they would soon be overwhelmed.

I guess it's time to put the history of the war 20 years back behind us and figure out what the hell is going on now. All I know is that I'm on the path back to Qufim and this time I've got a fleet of Gigases following me.

I have a vague feeling Alyria is going to hate me for this. I'm more than a bit afraid of her gun.

Midday

We arrived back at Qufim to notice that there was an eerie lack of Turned on the shore and the sounds of battle not far off. A small battalion of Gigas had now started to fill the shore, amongst them was the Runt. I spoke to the Runt and told him that I would leave now to find my own people.

The Runt, despite being a runt, seemed to be in a position of social power. He was able to tell a few other Gigas to accompany me for protection and for assistance.

So there I was, marching through Qufim Island, with four armored Gigases, looking for my Unit. I followed the ruckus to the pond and saw that they had been bottlenecking a group of the Turned by blocking off all but one path with rocks––I could only presume that Dasva had seen to that part––and had been killing The Turned as they slowly blocked themselves into that one path.

The Gigases and I cut through the Turned from behind. I was right: Alyria was pissed. She actually smacked me across the face for being a weak, overly empathetic person and said there was no room for people like me in her unit.

I gritted my teeth, but simply said, "We'll be sharing Delkfutt with our friends; we're in this one together."

She sighed and simply started walking away with the rest of the unit. I followed, and we killed more of the Turned. At least the Gigases are good company. They don't talk back, they just kind of grunt, laugh, and like to fight stuff.

Evening

The trip to Delkfutt from there was a simple game of See Turned, Kill Turned, Walk more.

Every so often The Runt would take out a horn and give a bellowing call, attracting more of the Turned, as well as calling forth Gigases that had been hiding.

We set up a rudimentary camp in the entrance hallway of Delkfutt's first floor. There's supposed to be some sort of elevator and a certain Gigas leader that holds a set of keys for it. The Runt gave us a large pelt with white scratch–markings on it and told us to deliver it as a peace offering. There were Turned visible throughout the tower but there was enough open space to mostly avoid them.

Alyria sent our ninja, Rumaha, to deliver the offering and come back with a key. For now, Dasva and I set up magical flames to form blockades to burn the Turned; tonight, we rest.

Rather, we would, except for the fact that the Gigas snore awfully loud.

Day 13 – Let The Bodies Hit The Floor

The Turned don't have a terribly good sense of balance and they seem to fall down holes rather easily. There are a great many holes in the floor and there were a great many piles of Turned that had fallen down to their... re–death(?) below them.

We saw piles of Turned that had just walked into the railings of upper floors and tipped themselves to falling some thirty feet. I watched three of them explode by doing this. Though I was getting used to these thoughtless, bizarre, once–adventure beings, it was disturbing was watching them fall.

Their limbs kind of separate from the force of the impact and one of them fell face first, causing his entire head to just shatter. I almost lost my stomach, but we were repelling them slowly but surely with the help of the Gigases from the top floor and down. Rumaha was successful enough and so we simply took the elevator up to the top floors.

I recognized some of the Turned, and that's the most disturbing part to it: watching customers and acquaintances and friends with the vacant, blood–hungry look.

There was a Mithra, Eliniel, that I recognized. She had turned and was eating through a pile of her own, unholy brethren; apparently not caring that they were plagued of some sort. I watched her as she chomped away at a limb that had fallen off one of the railing–hoppers.

Dasva taught me my first "Ancient Magic" today; taking her out in one shot made it easier for me to shake off. There was no time for whatever was left of her to feel any sort of pain.

I don't know how I'll be able to live with myself if we find a cure, but all I know is that the only way I can live with myself now is knowing that this is the only way we know to save ourselves: just keep surviving, and killing those that would kill us.

I'm also starting to fear that I'm growing apathetic to the act of killing what were once my friends. I killed Megan, and now Eliniel; how many more would I have to kill to secure this tower? I'm getting kind of tired of this.

Alyria's using her whopping ten words of the day now and telling me to "Stop scribbling, now: it's a waste of time and energy."

'till next time, if there is such a thing.

Day 14 – Almost Easy

Delkfutt's tower has been secured almost too easily. Alyria is growing bored and looking for more Turned and spends her days scouring Qufim Island for more. She says that in three days we're going to split up; half of us are going to resecure Port Jeuno, which we assume has been overridden again as half of us continue to comb Qufim and keep it clean.

I have been learning much from the Gigases. Every morning more and more of them flock onto the shore; The Runt tells me that when this problem started they sent ships to the North to alert the Iceland Gigases. Everyday I begin to think more and more that our simpler, giant friends were much more practical in how they handled this situation.

The Gigases bring wood from Altana–knows–where and have begun to fortify the front. We treat each other with a sort of mild, silent understanding. Rumaha, Stikle, and Dasva have taken to fishing with the Gigas when we have eradicated any Turned that have shown up.

There is one other person in our Special Op's Unit that I've had no real cause to mention; an elfaan samurai named Caiyuo. We've taken to trying to prepare Delkfutt for livability, as well as figure out if there's some sort of control system that works all those cermet doors we keep finding. We keep trying to occupy ourselves. Whenever I have time to think, I find myself thinking back to killing Meg.

I'm sure that Caiyuo has his own reasons, because he's been antsy as well. Tomorrow, we'll be setting up Meg's alchemy set.

Day 15 – The Power of the Mithkabob

I keep having nightmares about being ambushed by a Turned and losing myself to this plague. I woke up during the night to find Alyria glaring at me.

"Stop whimpering, or I'll cut your throat and stop it for you," she whispered, before promptly going back to sleep.

Personally, I think she liked the kabobs I made last night too much to do that, though she'll never admit to that. She talks tough, and she definitely fights tough, but I think she has to admit that I'm moderately useful, and that puts me yalms ahead of our Turned companions.

It was a slow day. Dasva decided that I didn't run properly, so she spent the day chasing me and lighting my shoes on fire if I didn't run fast enough.

I believe I shall have a fear of tarus soon.

Day 16 – Somebody Set Up Us The Bomb

We're even less alone than we thought.

Demons landed on the coast today and began battling with the Gigases. Rumaha reported this over an impromptu breakfast this morning. On her orders, he took Alyria to where he had been watching it all as Cai, Stikle, and The Runt began organizing and informing the other Gigases that had taken to the Tower as their home. Dasva and I had been giving the odd task of magically sealing a room with an anti–warp spell.

Magical seals are hard to prepare, but Dasva made sure I didn't fuck it up. She only had to threaten biting my ankles off once.

Alyria and Rumaha came back with an unconscious Marquis Demon. The Marquis was bleeding to death due to a particularly large bullet that Alyria sent through his shoulder. She had Dasva and I escort her to the room we sealed off.

After she had me heal him back to consciousness, Alyria had me leave the room and kept Dasva. Judging on the gunshots, shrieks, and maniacal laughing of a taru, the Marquis was being tortured to his breaking point. Two hours after we first brought him in we heard one loud boom and Alyria walked out, flicking bits of demon brain off of her clothes. Dasva looked incredibly dissapointed.

Those two females scare the hell out of me.

She stepped out of the room and explain that the demons were there to wipe out the Gigases due to their resistance to this plague and therefore the only real threat left to the Demons. She was unable to find out anything about the nature of the plague.

We didn't need to be told how we'd spend the rest of the day; we simply suited up and got ready to fight demons.

I imagine that it'll be easier to kill the demons, at least from an emotional standpoint. They don't share our faces, or the faces of those that were once our friends.

One thing is for certain, though: Alyria looks absolutely thrilled with this change of pace.

Day 17 – Don't feed the animals

Cai slices demons in an almost artistic and serene matter, but the kill of the day by far goes to the crab and flying turkey duo: there is something hysterically wrong about watching a crab trip a demon and then jump on his chest over and over as a flying turkey begins to bite it to death.

I have lost count of how many guns Alyria has, or where she keeps all of them. As the Gigases and ourselves began to win, she ordered me to take The Runt and go kill the worms by the pond for enough ore to make some more bullets.

I know she's doing this 'cause she thinks I'm weak and hates me for it but I really don't think I can care at *this point: I've killed too many things that were once people and too many things that aren't anywhere near people in the last twenty days to think about it too much. I don't know if I'll be able to live with myself like this.

I can only hope that this will end soon, but I'm really starting to doubt it.

Day 18 – Working Men Morning

The Demons retreated during the night.

Strategically, that was a horrible mistake for them to make; the Gigases demolished them with their massive battleships.

Cai and I are staying at the Tower, now quasi–fortfieid, and I'm tending to wounded Gigases while the others go out and resecure Port Jeuno. We'll be setting up the alchemy set later and preparing some accommodations for the others that will take shelter here. Cai and I both have a bit of background in woodworking, so I guess we can make a few beds and benches with what the Gigases had leftover.

I think these little side projects, these last grasps to emulate society, are what keep me going. I keep thinking back to when everything around my life smelled like ginger cookies and mithkabobs. Now the smells are blood and Gigas.

I may like them on our side, but by Altana, please let them discover bathing soon. At least every day or two Dasva and I go out to light a flare into the pond to make it into a temporary hot spring to bathe in; why can't they jump in the ocean?

Night

God damn, I want a marron glace and a nice Yag Drink. When this crap ends, Cai said he'd introduce me to my first hard drink.

Despite how much she hates me, I cannot deny that I feel a bit uneasy without Alryia. Also, I thought the lack of female Tarus threatening to light my heels on fire would be pleasent; it's really not.

It's quiet, and something doesn't feel quite right.

Day 19 – Tribal Traditions Noon

The Gigas Chieftain succumbed to the wounds he received during the battles with the demons. Upon inspection we found out that he had a venom bolt stuck in his arse and failed to mention it.

As such, the Gigases spent the past twelve or so hours competing over who would be the next leader. They're so god awful loud that Cai and I headed down to the basement for some peace and quiet.

That was where we ran into the first peculiarity; the dolls had been immobile before, and now they most certainly were changed. Attempting to massacre us counts as mobile, I'd say.

Cai and I managed the first one with some difficulty. The second one, quite a bit harder, managed to knock Cai sideways, across the room, and into a wall.

To which he turned his attention to me and started rushing at me.

Now, I'm a bit squishy; I was never the heavy armor type for the most part––besides that one time I tried the eastern ways and found that it just wasn't for me, but I digress––and was nowhere near as sturdy as Cai. Therefore I did the only thing I knew how to do: paniced.

I was more afraid of the doll than the Turned because this was an enemy that I was not familiar with that seemed like I was no match against. At least the Turned were slow, stupid, and just as squishy as I was. Demons were more focused on trying to take the Gigases and Alyria out and were more human sized.

This doll was at least two times my height, moved quickly, and was able to knock Cai out on the first unparried blow.

So of course, that meant I would probably die on the first blow. Jolly.

I managed to stun it to buy myself the precious seconds I needed to think. Without much of any other idea, I thought back to when I had traveled the world a bit as a Red Mage; my friend and I had beaten a sea monster and I had gotten a sword that was in my bag.

I took the sword out of the sack on my back along with some shihei and began to fall back into the ways of the duelist as the stunning spell wore off.

The problem with dueling is that you have to keep track of terribly much in your head; how many shadows you have left, how long until your haste spell wears off, what spells of enfeeblement you have to cast, and so on and so forth. I was never too good at all that.

But at the same time, knowing that one wrong move would wind up with a dead Sect and Cai duet made me both entirely too nervous to try this and entirely too desperate not to.

It worked. For a while, that is. By "a while" I mean to say, long enough for me to toss a few curing spells at Cai until he suddenly jolted back to reality.

Then I ran out of shihei, and all I knew was darkness after that.

Evening

Cai yelled at me for writing and threatened to knock me out for good if I didn't stop; in a sort of fraternal, only half serious way, that is. Apparently, you're supposed to rest if you spent your morning bleeding out the back of your head.

Fancy that.

From what I could gather, Cai went into some kind of berserk rage and fucked the doll up badly. I remember glimpses of trying to open my eyes and feeling like I was moving, which must have been him carrying me back to safety.

But, I digress.

According to Cai, there was a demon down there that seemed to have been using the dolls as marionettes that hid once spotted.

The dolls, for now, have gone back to being their usual, passive, ugly selves.

I'm tired, but Cai says I have to try and stay awake for a while. He's reading passages out of Meg's alchemy book to see if there's any sort of notes on medicine. He found a ton of stuff on how to make a potion, but none on when which is needed.

Besides, there's also the problem that I'm kind of the only one of us that has any experience stewing a cauldron and brewing potions; Meg made me help her out.

Everytime I mention her name, I feel sick.

Day 20 – A Mathematical Error Morning

Cai refused to wake me up this morning and instead went back to investigate the basement alone. I estimated that Alyria and company would return in the late night or early morning with any survivors.

Cai came back as I ate breakfast and said that he found the demon walking around some sort of room that had a map of each floor in the tower. He quickly retreated before he could be seen, lest the demon retreat further into the tower.

Meanwhile, the competitions for a new Gigas Chieftain continue. I wish I had some saruta cotton to stuff in my ears. Altana only knows what they're comparing now. Before they appeared to be arguing over who had the most spikes on their club.

They had to stop; they realized that they couldn't count on beyond four, and so declared it a stalemate on that account.

Afternoon

I'm growing a little stir–crazy in the tower, so I'm writing this outside, grunting with the Gigas Guards, wondering what to do.

Cai is having some tea I managed to brew using a bucket as a makeshift kettle. It feels almost like a crime, but there's not much I can do.

I keep thinking back to things I saw in Jeuno that night. It's been almost a month now, and I still can't shake the images of people eating people. I can't shake the images of me blowing Meg's body to bits, or Dasva wrecking the body of the ducal guard who was going to kill me.

Sometimes, when I'm alone, I can almost swear that I see Meg out of the corner of my eye or just barely hear her.

All I've got left is this motley crew and a bunch of Gigases; I think I'm losing the will to live through whatever is going on. If things don't pick up soon, I think I may pitch myself off the top of Delkfutt.

Day 21 – This is the Day that never ends Early morning

It is much easier to find the will to live when your life is in danger and you can either let it snuff out or do that whole "Fight or Flight" thing Cid once lectured about.

When Cai had finished his tea he came out to check on me again and we stayed out a bit to enjoy the frigid, yet somehow comforting salty air that Shu'Meyo brought to us. Daylight was leaving us.

That was when we saw four flares light up in the air around Jeuno and in the distance it seemed like Ru'Lude had gone on fire.

We ran back into Delkfutt and alerted The Runt that we think our crew was in danger. He would keep order there with the help of whatever new Chieftain and keep Qufim secure.

Cai and I ran like never before and reached Port Jeuno a bit before midnight. We heard screams of terror pouring out.

Jeuno had become a destination point for both survivors and Turned and it seemed as though the Turned were winning this time around.

This time around, they also moved faster, and they were beginning to look a little less like humans than they used to. Cai and I immediately got ready for combat.

And that was when we heard a familiar voice bellow out "Finally you bastards got here! Took your sweet time, didn't you?" as the head of a Turned nearby essentially exploded.

I had enjoyed my days without blood and bullets, but now I was back on the field and had to accept that. I saw Dasva running towards us with a small crowd following her and dive behind us as Stikle, his pets, and Cai rushed forth to cut them down.

"Hiya!" Dasva said to me. "Got a new trick to teach you, lookit here!" As she began to chant an incantation at double the speed she normally did. "I'll teach ya' later, we've got to get back up to Ru'Lude."

I'm about to pass out now, I'll finish the rest later. It was a very, very long night; at least now, we understand a bit more.

Morning

Rumaha somehow woke me up this morning. It was the first time I had been in a bed in three weeks and it felt good.

I'm writing this as we have our first real, substantial meal since this fiasco began.

You see, the demons did not, in fact, retreat the other day: instead they swooped around Qufim and started raising all hell in Jeuno. Esha'ntarl, the acting Arch Duke of Jeuno since some fiasco or another happened to the oddly dressed Duke and his brother, had been convincing people to take refuge in Ru'Lude and seal off the lower levels until they could figure out some way to regain Jeuno.

When she heard the ruckus that Alyria and the others had been causing she immediately set out herself to investigate it; the Turned just didn't have a tendency to taunt, seemingly lacking the ability to do more than groan.

Upon hearing that there were in fact more survivors and that the Ducal Guard had gone mostly unturned, Esha'ntarl immediately began making plans to move the people to Delkfutt.

That was the part where the Demons arrived with a whole new brigade of Turned; it appeared as though they had raided a ship full of adventurers looking for safety.

Last night, we learned that there was a new trick: reanimating dead Turned.

Imagine, if you will, decimating a group of what was once adventurers. We're talking body parts all across the floor.

Now imagine watching as the a demon mage of some sort began chanting and the body parts rolled, still bleeding fresh, and began to form a monstrous, giant, mismatched undead freak of nature.

Then, and only then, will you be able to begin to fathom what last night was like.

May you never have to.

Day 21 – Limit Break Noon

You see, the demons, they can turn themselves if they know they're going to die, apparently.

They must have been working on this for twenty years, since the war ended. I thought that those who have turned were bad enough on their own; toss in their puppeteers and it's so much worse.

No matter how many demons we killed there were always two more to take the place; some of the demons, even after being blasted back to hell, would be half revived by mages and combined together until an utterly feral, deadly killing machine was rampaging at one of us.

We had split up, for the most part. Stikle and his monsters were holding their own while Rumaha, Cai, and I worked on trying to cut the demons and their puppets down at the entrance to Lower Jeuno; Dasva had lit a sort of magical flame, sealing off Port Jeuno for now. We figured that the demons trying to rush there would be most vulnerable; they were pretty much bottlenecked at that one point.

At one point I ended up being forced back in a fight with two demons and a turned while Cai and Rum held position without me. Whether it was by a random fluke or not, we ultimately ended up back in my shop.

I didn't actually realize it at first; there was blood all over the walls and it had been raided thoroughly. Recipes littered the floor, shattered plates and cups on the tables.

And then I was pushed backwards some more as I parried a blow and tripped over something.

That something was the decaying body of Meg. I felt my heart stop as I glanced at her; I had ripped off her charred arm by tripping over her.

All I remember was that in that moment I felt more rage than I ever felt in my life. It was as if every fiber of my being desired blood.

I wondered if this was what being turned felt like, but I realized that I was still in control of my body.

There was a scimitar that I kept on display, it was part of a coat of arms. The next thing I recall was walking out of my shop covered in blood, holding the head of a demon and tossing it into the crowd of demons. Apparently, I killed an important one.

Night:

The rest of last night went by in a blur, but supposedly I "scared the little taru pants" off of Dasva at one point.

I remember at one point pinning down a demon general and hacking off his limbs one by one, demanding information from him that I don't even recall.

Judging on the fact that Alyria is acting like she likes me a hell of a lot more today than last time we met, I'd say I must have gotten something important out of him. Either that or she's afraid I'll snap again and go chop–suey on her, too. She could probably shoot me dead before I got withing five feet though if that happened.

Anyways, we've stopped now at a very tentative resting grounds: Castle Oztroja. You see, this afternoon the team and I were told by Wolfgang to escort Cid to Windurst.

For the first time in my knowledge, Cid was wearing more than an apron and pants. He ditched the engineer clothes and was wearing what I can only describe as some sort of lightweight, mechanically augmented skeleton.

He confuses me, that man, but whatever.

I ditched my old dueling swords; instead, before writing this, I sharpened my scimitar after I cleaned it again.

It feels good in my hand, but I need a better one. For now, all I know is that Rumaha and Cid are parleying with Tzee Xicu, explaining what happened, and that the Yagudo are eyeing us hungrily. They got hit hard by this atrocity, too.

Part of me would love to see what would happen if we got everyone to scurry to Delkfutt and form some sort of union.

Part of me would love to just get out there and chop up another demon. I'm not sure what happened inside me last night, but since then all I want to do is keep chopping.

I guess I am in fact going crazy. The truth is, I don't really care if I am or not. I know that if I keep going and don't die, sooner or later I will kill the person that made me kill my best friend, and that's all I really want to do.

Day 24 – A Different Sort of Army Dawn

In addition to Cid, we are now also escorting "Her Holiness Tzee Xicu" through Sarutabaruta. Our progress was slowed due to the fact that the Yagudo refuse to let Xicu walk by herself and constantly move in an armored guard formation.

On the plus, however, we are leading the entirety of Castle Oztroja with us. Every single Yagudo, warrior or not, walks behind us.

We are leading an army of great potential. It is a shame, truly, that our fortune won't hold up with the other beastmen: I hear that the Quadavs have almost been fully exterminated and that the Orcs are fully aligned with the demons.

Either way, who cares?

I don't; I just keep slicing away. Dasva has deemed it useless to teach me more magic. Most of the others just stay away from me now.

Conversation is diminishing, but I don't quite mind. It gives me more time to think.

Night

We arrived at the Federation of Windurst to find out that the Tarutaru and Mithra had only lost one part of their city in the fight with The Plagued, and that was by their own choice.

The walls around their city provided them with an extreme tactical advantage: they were able to safely band together and send meteors falling from the sky.

The downside of this is that Sarutabaruta was turned even more barren and is totally unusable now. It resembles the mountain range of Meriphataud more than ever. I suppose that everything has a cost.

They would have destroyed us, too, had Xicu herself not sent up a magical flare into the sky that took on the symbol of the the wolf, Fenrir.

My group, Xicu, and her closest guards were taken into the city, being carefully watched by a battalion of Windurst's greatest hundred black mages, ready to decimate us instantly if need be. We were taken into the Cloisters of the Star Sibyl, the entirety of the Mithran Guard baring their bows––and claws, and teeth mind you––at us. I recognized some of the people from my time spent studying in the city.

The Star Sibyl bid us entrance into her most guarded chamber and asked us, quite simply, what an army of Yagudo and a team of humans were doing.

Cid spoke up first and explained what The Turned were.

Xicu went to speak next and explained that the Yagudo were as much prey as the Tarutaru.

Alyria went to speak next, but the Sibyl cut her off and looked directly at me.

Her voice had an eerie sadness to it as she asked "You, too, have been infected by this plague, haven't you?"

I heard Alyria's gun instantly cock and every weapon turned to me. I said nothing as every piece of clothing was ripped off of me, bar none, by Xicu's guards. I said nothing, and simply stood their apathetically as my entire body was put up for show in front of everyone.

There were no cut marks, no bites, I was virtually unscathed for all that I've been through; only bruises from the battle inside Delkfutt and burns from the fighting with the demons.

Hesitantly, I was allowed to put my clothes back on.

"I can see the damage," the Sibyl continued, in that same strange and sad voice, "I remember your spirit as it used to be; tell me, what infected your soul?"

I could say nothing. It was, shockingly, Xicu who answered for me.

"The same as Karaha–Baruha, kyahyahyah, his soul has turned. Paid a tribute, something forever broken, kyahyahyah!

"Gone," I said simply. "Not broken."

It was with that that I spun around on my heel and let the adults talk about whatever unimportants that they had to. The necessary path was glaringly simple in my eyes: kill Turned, save those not Turned.

"Not broken," I whispered as I walked away. I wasn't sure if it was a prayer.

Day 25 – Insomnia 3:25am

I don't really feel like sleeping anymore. It's not like we'll be leaving Windurst anytime soon, anyways. I'm just laying here in the same bed I used to sleep in while studying at the academy, thinking.

I saw myself in the mirror after I was able to shower for the first time since I was in Jeuno. My body is definitely changing. By trade, I am––I was, I guess––a chef; we're a bit pudgy by nature 'cause all we do is make food, taste food, and sell food. There's always food around.

Always tons of sweets, to top it off. Meg loved my cinna cookies.

Some time, a few minutes after midnight, the Star Sibyl entered my room and asked me if it was true.

I simply looked at her and asked "Which part?"

I was expecting her to ask me if it was true that I destroyed Meg. Instead, she asked, "That she tried to kill you."

I turned away from her and the first thing I saw was myself in the mirror. I found my hand placing itself on its reflection as I sighed.

"She had no idea who I was," I said. I don't know if I was trying to convince myself or the Sibyl. "She wanted to kill me, bite me, claw at me; she wanted to eat me. When I found her, she was chewing on a taru that she killed."

The Sibyl placed her hand over her mouth and gasped ever slightly.

"This plague is an awful thing," she said.

I turned and glared a dagger at her, a person I was supposed to have utmost respect for. "What would you know? You've been staying high and guarded in your precious little tower while people like me have to kill everyone we held dear, or die. I watched Jeuno fall. I watched an empire deny us refuge. What do you know?"

My words hurt her, I could tell.

"It's true..." she admitted.

There was a knock on the door, sparing her from having to continue. I opened the door to find no one there.

However, Rumaha was suddenly behind me. He is a crafty one, that ninja.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but the War Warlocks have made their decision: Windurst shall stay, not flee to the towers, and Xicu's forces must go. However, as a gesture of good will, they are allowed ten days to make plans and resupply."

The Sibyl nodded, and Rum placed a hand on my shoulder. "There's someone here I must bring you to see. An old acquaintance of mine. Come before morning," he said, and with that he was gone, a slip of paper suddenly in my hand.

I looked at the Sibyl, whom had sat at my desk and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, what could be done?"

I simply shrugged.

"Keep fighting back. Kill them all. Kill their leaders. Kill their young."

It seemed like a plan at the time.

She left a bit after that, thanking me for letting her come in.

Alyria peered into my room two times, and each time I threw a book at the door and told her that if she wanted to come in, she damn well better.

Stikle's creatures walked in at one point, but I think that's 'cause I had a fireplace going and it was chilly out. They're still asleep, and I guess I better get going. I've got till morning to go to the part of town described on the paper Rum gave to me.

Day 27 – Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting Breakfast

The first trial had been darkness; or so I had been told later on. Fortunately for me, I had taken my scimitars: you never know when a Turned may show up, or a demon invasion.

The more I walked the darker it became outside, as though the fog of war itself was rolling in. That should have been the first clue that it would be a rather long day.

I recalled the area that Rumaha had described and navigated through there out of memory and habit. You see, Windurst has a few secrets. One of these is a hidden island.

If you jump off the boards that surround the cooking guild and wade through the water for some time it gets quite deep and you have to actually swim between the trees that surround the area. I'm a fairly quick swimmer, having spent a lot of my time in the lakes and ocean around Windurst on my time off, and so it takes me around fifteen minutes of swimming to go where I was headed.

Such is where I went: to a small, hidden island of sorts in the middle of all this water. If I had to guess I'd say you could probably fit a small house on the island.

I used to go there to think in my free time. Sometimes I'd take a few friends and we would catch a few fish.

It was really dark around the island but I found it just the same. I pulled myself to shore and dried myself with a spell.

I couldn't see more than a few feet but I was definitely able to hear the soft pitter patter as rain began to fall.

And then all of a sudden I heard another person breathing nearby.

I turned to the breathing and found that there was a katana only a few hairs away from my head.

I should have been scared, but I don't think I cared at the time.

"Hello to you, too," I simply said.

The katana lowered. "You swim too loud."

It was a female voice that had an almost childish quality to it.

"I was sent to find someone, and if my swimming made you show yourself so quickly, I'd say it doesn't really matter."

She giggled.

"He was right, you really don't care about anything," the voice said. The figure approached.

All I could tell was that it was a rather svelte girl some two inches shorter than myself dressed in the entirely black, trademarked garbs of a ninja.

I stood still as she walked around me and inspected me as though I were a piece of furniture she was considering buying.

"I'm Marzbarz, an old friend of Rumaha," she explained. When she was in front of me once more she held out her hand.

We shook hands and I felt a slight change in how tight she gripped my hands. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I felt her suddenly try and pull me to the ground at the exact moment I mouthed a stunning spell.

I let go of her hand and smirked. "Try something like that again and I'll kill you, too," I said. I felt oddly calm and satisfied at the thought of slaughtering her.

And that was what scared me most.

Her eyes were glancing from side to side nervously, waiting for me to release her from the spell.

I took the scimitars off my back and released the spell.

"God, you don't have to be so mean about it, I was only testing you!" she whined, stretching slightly. "I could have sworn he said you weren't a fighter, but you've got some hot blood."

I gripped my scimitars a bit tighter. She was a nutter.

"So why did he want us to meet?" I asked.

She gave a childish shrug. "Dunno!" she said.

With that there was a crashing sound as if someone had done a cannonball out of the water and Rumaha came tumbling next to us.

"Because something happened that night in Jeuno, and she's the only person I know that can confirm my suspicions," he said.

I paused before looking at him dead in the eyes and simply said, "Cannonballing out of the water? Really, Rum?"

"I noticed it first after you killed the Arch Demon General; you, a kid who had almost no formal training, was suddenly able to perform a quadrastrike."

I raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, I was just––"

"––just killing to feed the empty gap in your soul," Marz finished.

I turned back to her. "Not exactly what I was going to say, but yes, I suppose that fits," I said.

Marz came awfully close to me and tantalizingly whispered, "You feel angry, tormented, don't you? Like a whipped beast trapped in a cage," as she stared me directly in the eyes.

I bit my lip again and nodded.

She jumped backwards four feet or so and she and Rumaha were standing side by side. "Then show use your anger!" she taunted, before they both rushed at me, katanas drawn.

I had just enough time to feel a smirk grace my face and I felt the same bloodlust overtake me that had come over me in Jeuno. It's almost the same feeling that I get when I look at bacon: the urge to juts assault the plate.

Dinner

All I remember was that one moment we began fighting and the next moment I can recall the sun was shining brightly and Rumaha was prying me off of Marz, my scimitar just about to slice her neck off.

"Damnit Sectum, snap out of it!" he was shouting.

I felt like every part of my body was beating. My line of sight was receding slightly with each heartbeat for a few moments as I stopped struggling and Rumaha dragged me away.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them the entire landscape was the same foggy setting as when we had started, albeit a tad bit brighter. Rumaha was pulling Marz up to her feet and whispering rapidly.

"––don't think he knew––" was all I was able to hear Rumaha say, Marz nodding in agreement.

After a few moments of privately conversing, they bother turned to me. I noticed that Rumaha had taken my scimitars away. It was probably a good idea.

"Shall you explain or shall I?" Rumaha asked her.

"I wanna! I wanna!" Marz said, strangely excited for a woman I just tried to decapitate.

Rumaha nodded, and she began.

"You know of the Eastern Empire, Aht Urhgan, right?" she asked. I nodded, and she continued. "Over yonder, there's a group of people willing to split their souls and throw parts of them away, and in return they take the souls of slain enemies inside of them."

It sounded an awful lot like the demons and the Turned, to be honest.

"These people, The Immortals, are the personal guard for the Empress. The years and years of bloody struggle in the East have made people willing to shatter their souls to attain this power, as well as their ferocious loyalty to The Empress."

"Where do I fall into this?" I asked, stroking my nonexistant beard.

Marz flashed a sort of crazy smile. "You broke your own soul and did the exact same thing that the Immortals do, with absolutely no guidance or idea about it. I can tell in the way that the anger runs through you, and the way that you immediately adapt to the fighting styles of an enemy you've defeated; you didn't even have to kill Rumaha to suddenly start fighting on his level. Yet, you're not aware of it, and I bet if you tried, you'd have no clue how to even properly toss a shuriken at me unless––"

"Unless I was pushed past the edge again. Like how I can't remember anything about the fight that just happened."

She nodded ecstatically. "Exactly!"

I sat and thought about this for a few minutes. "Can I learn to control this?" I asked.

"Dunno, but we gotta try; imagine how powerful you'd be with proper training if you did this to yourself!" she said. She was reminding me almost of Alyria with her love of all things powerful.

I thought back to Lower Jeuno, the body of a friend that I stumbled over and tore.

"Let's do it."

Day 35 – How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Aim for the Head

I never realize how many pages I went through, but this is the last entry I can fit in this book.

I keep on reflecting how different life has become.

Right now, I'm on a boat with Marz and Cai. There's a giant serpent in the water cautiously following us and if it attacks again I get to fight it with the turrets again.

It's been a crazy sort of day. Currently we're traveling down the Pamtam Straights, headed for Olzhirya to warn the Mithran Kingdom about the plague and demon invasion. After that, we're stopping quickly on the Island of Tsahya to resupply and hopefully gain a few crewmen.

You see, we decided to renegotiate with the near–East: we know that their alchemists are on par with our own or better, and most of ours are dead or missing. We're going to request help; in return, they get to study the hell out of me and rip me to shreds if they'd like.

You see, Marz explained a bit about how the Empress' elite Immortal squad works, and it essentially boils down to a fundamental problem: by breaking their own souls and filling it with the souls of fallen enemies they are constantly tormented by those they've killed. I don't have that problem. I hear nothing. There's no demon whispering inside me, and if I try really hard I can remember the exact movements that the demon used to massacre an enemy in four quick slashes.

If I shut my eyes, I understand how to blend into the shadows like Marz can.

I wasn't able to tap into this information until I woke up one night, screaming in my sleep, and realized that there really was no point anymore. Life as I knew it, it was pretty much over. It was in that moment that I think I threw everything away. As I lay there, my hand reaching up, I realized that the time of the species was running short unless we did something drastic; my life was just a small part of what was once a large species, and the whole pool was getting smaller. If saving the pool meant dying, I was ready.

I'm ready now; I've found the will to care enough to survive but to be willing to die for what need be done. If that means I live long enough for the Empires' alchemists to shred me to bits studying me, then so be it.

Marz refused me from telling the team about our decision to flee to the East and petition for help until this morning. There was a mixed reception of concern and relief, to be fair. What shocked me most was Alyria, whom was taken aback so far by this that she grabbed me and dragged me half way across Windurst to have a private talk.

She took me to one of the old 'stary's that had been converted to a Mithran archery range and took out two beautiful Hellfires and taught me how to shoot. She refused to let me go until I could fire without trembling and reload calmly. She fired at me as I shot at targets in order to keep me fully aware that my decision meant at any given moment I may end up dead.

I understood entirely too well, and ultimately I was able to bring myself to shoot in her direction, though not at her; something about "providing cover fire" or something, I forget.

She let me keep the gun, simply saying, "I expect it to be your hands that bring me my darrrrrlin' back."

It was bittersweet. Cai is coming with us because he claims to know some old friends in Tsahya that would help us out and he knows even more in the Empire. That will prove valuable if it is indeed correct.

I don't know if I'll ever reread this, or if anyone will, or if the ship will even make it to the next destination, but I know one thing: this journey so far, I've learned a lot on it. I don't know if I'll ever have time to write more, or if my limbs will even stay as hands instead of the tentacles of a soulflayer. I don't know when I'll even get paper again, or if I'll write when I do. Whoever you are, if you can read it, just know that this is a terrible world full of terrible things, but that you can't give up; you have to find something worth fighting for. Even though I think I've given up, I know that I have something I'm fighting for; I'm fighting so that no one will ever have to see what I've seen or do what I've done to their friends and family. I'm fighting for a better tomorrow, if there even is such a thing. I'm fighting for the world, and by god I will fight until I die.

If nothing else, whoever you are that may read this, know that this was how I learned to stop worrying and aim for the head.