39th day of Harvest, 4009 A.T.

I often wonder about the Old World. What kind of lives did these ancestors of ours lead? What did their crawling concrete monoliths used to look like before the Earth ended their Era? What secrets do the Old Devices hold?

We've managed to keep a few Screens active in our little Stockade. It certainly helps our Scribe maintain updated records of all the families, but I'm more thankful about the connection we have to the newly introduced Net. Rumor has been going around that all the secrets of the humans who lived before us rests within this Net.

I am curious as to the details of how some albino teen, alongside a small team of Org members and the Hub-reknown Cryptid Couple, managed to give us Surface Dwellers this gift of knowledge.

All I've been told, all anyone is ever told, is that it was a mission for the Org to research and, if needed, maintain or detain a potential threat to us Dwellers which resulted in mass panic and deaths before some kind of resolution was made. And, surprise! Turns out the rumors of people living in the Arc was true all along, but they weren't the cause of the moon's shattering. Their ancestors built the base on the moon in an effort to retain the delicate balance of the planet and satellite- after a comet decimated the moon, sending the balance off center- as well as provide a position of safety from the impending apocalypse upon the planet's surface.

Thanks to the Org's efforts, my favorite realm of knowledge are ancient symbology. There's so much that didn't survive the End or wasn't passed down, but now I have it. I have what my family has been carefully cultivating and testing for generations. We have been able to live and survive due to the diligence of the seamstresses and tailors among us; their details in the fabric is our saving grace. Their work is worn by everyone from our Hub for shielding and protection else the families may not return for the Moon Meeting.

I have helped my mother and nana hand-sew words and symbols into our clothes as they have helped their mothers and nanas before them. I have watched my father and brothers etch those words and symbols into leather and metal for commissions. I have seen firsthand how effective our little threaded details serve us as the dark shadows- that often bring disaster close behind them- scurry away. Little sprites and imps that wreck and maim turn away and pass over those protected by my family's creations.

These talismans and words of power are prevalent in our decorations for any Hub Events, as added protection against the Wild since the majority of our population will be within Stockade's perimeter during such times. Be it a marriage or a union, a celebration or a memorial, the Hub becomes just as protected as ourselves.

But our knowledge is still incorrect despite the elders having access to the Net since before I was born. Symbols we have made and tested, as I find more information on this subject, are incomplete or just wrong enough to lessen the potency of the desired effect. Some words are spelled wrong only slightly or it's a different language than originally thought.

I have coached my family as far as they are able to comprehend these corrections- habits are indeed a Herculean feat to break- and their efforts have been near instantly shown fruition as less and less families lose members between every Moon Meeting.

My deep love and highest respect, however, is the protection of our dead.

Every passing generation sees an improvement of living in this untamed planet. In my parent's time, it was the survival advancements of the Cryptid Couple. For mine, it's the grand union of the Arc and the Surface. Who knows how this exponential trend will continue for the next generation? To think that the humans before us had their own bell curves in history to the point where they had explored everything on the planet's crust save the oceans depths and possessed technology that seems like pure magic to us.

But I am learning and lifting the mysterious veil bit by bit because though the living is starting be become well protected, the dead is still a target for some of the more vile entities. Many of these creatures we know to be all too real were merely considered myth and legends or pure fiction by the Old World. Well, legend says that when the End was happening, these beings of myth and fiction returned en force before the earth itself churned and split into chaos.

Some beings that disturb the dead are benign, but I am more concerned with the corpse eaters and disease bringers. Our Hub Physician is good, but she's not all knowing or well equipped. One virus could wipe out all the families connected to Stockade with frightful accuracy and speed. Many Hubs have gone silent because of a freak illness or they were all massacred.

And sometimes, it seems to start when the dead go missing or appear to come alive.

The dead have lived their lives and deserve to be at peace. Someone must protect them.

I do often wonder how the Old World cared for their living and their dead.

Now, I am apprentice to the Grimkeeps and I have said my farewells to my family while I remain in Stockade to learn my chosen trade. I'll see them every Moon Meeting or so, carrying with them more boons and tales from bartering with other families within and without Stockade's range. For the time being, I'm actually excited to be on my own.

They say that tonight is a Hallowed night. The space between this realm and the next are rendered thin and delicate. As if the supernatural, superterrestrial, extraterrestrial, and enigmas of nature need more of an excuse to haunt the surface and us Dwellers.

Though, I am sure to take this seriously in light of Elder Grimkeep Halu's recent warnings of an evil coming for us. Even the light-hearted Samel is finally living up to his position title. My mentor, Damien, who is usually the type to see beauty in everything and be content in the moment is solemn and grim.

I am to meet them all in the Funeral Home for my official first day. I'm so excited that I'm wearing the scarf I've been working on in secret from my parents. I didn't want to write about it until now because everyone in the family caravan is nosy. I sewed in some of the ancient runes I learned from the Net. One, in particular, is a combined seal that I hope will bring me earned respect and friendship as well as keeping me connected to my heritage and the knowledge that comes with it.

Wishing myself the best regards for tonight!

}-{

42nd day of Harvest, 4009 A.T.

Elder Grimkeep Halu has been laid to rest this evening. Damien is now Elder, but I feel like I'm being silently selected to take Madame Halu's place.

It's too much.

Everything that happened since that night has been too much.

It's strange staring at my words only a few days prior. I can still taste that naive hopefulness and sense of wonder though it holds a bitterness that I can't spit out.

Could I have saved her if I only knew more about Old World symbols?

Elder Damien and Grimkeep Samel say that it was merely wild animals, not an entity, that claimed her life. Said with the same tone as my parents when they told my brother that his dear pet wasn't eaten by an imp.

I saw her body.

I've seen mindless animal attacks.

If only I hadn't been knocked out when the windows and a portion of the Home collapsed. I could have done something.

No.

No. I'm trying to fool myself again. There's nothing I could have done.

I come from minuscule Stockade and a long line of Tailors, not our neighboring Hub, Fort Lyre, whose families are often on the front lines between us and the entities.

I'm not trained... yet, but that starts tomorrow. I hope I can fill in Madame Halu's shoes.

I just... wish that I could have saved her.

But now I have nightly and waking frights about the Living Holly. I saw it in the gap of the Home as wood and stone fell like rain around us. It stood out against the night sky, white against black and with a branching reach seemingly without end.

It... he had spoken, I am sure. Neither male Grimkeep had a voice like that. Neither do they have the ability to make my sight and mind literally turn fuzzy until my head trauma claimed my consciousness.

If he was Halu's reaper, there's nothing I could have done to save her.

I wonder if there is anything I could do, even with supposed training.

Perhaps we are simply fooling ourselves.