001, written

[keyandstar]

[ After having gotten over the shock of... Well, everything, and after having herself a good cry, Lirael examined the journal she'd found next to her neatly folded clothes.

It seemed like it had to be magical, and yet she could feel nothing from it. Was it dangerous? It didn't seem like it. Just strange.

Hence, after having read a few entries and come to the conclusion that this had to be some kind of communication device, she tentatively wrote: ]

Is this Ancelstierre?

Comments

c: Yay! <3

[removeimpurity]

Yes, years. Rather irritating, I would think.

If it is any consolation, time is frozen in one's world while they are here.

<3

[keyandstar]

What sort of place IS this?

[removeimpurity]

A very strange one, that is certain.

[keyandstar]

Yes, so I'm beginning to understand. Why are we all even here?

[removeimpurity]

That, I could not tell you. The Malnosso's motives are hidden from everyone.

[keyandstar]

I suppose that makes a sort of sense. Why would they want to tell us after all.

[removeimpurity]

It would give everything away, this is true.

With their unknown motives comes fear, and with fear comes their power.

[keyandstar]

I'm not sure they'd be that much less powerful if I wasn't afraid of them. I didn't even know they exist and they could still bring me here.

[removeimpurity]

If people knew what they were up to, people could prepare. Lessen the blow.

Coming from a war-torn nation, I can say that the best tactics often leave the enemy completely unaware to an army's existence.

Who's to say the Malnosso don't employ similar lines of thought?

[keyandstar]

I guess so. I've never had to think about military strategy.

[removeimpurity]

Most people haven't, to be honest.

...could you tell me about your world, perhaps?

[keyandstar]

That's true.

What would you like to know?

[removeimpurity]

Whatever you feel like sharing. If you'd like, I could tell you some about my world afterward.

[keyandstar]

I'd like that.

It's hard to know where to start. I come from a country called the Old Kingdom. It's separated from it's neighbor, Ancelstierre, by a wall. I've never been there but I've heard magic doesn't work when you come top far past the wall, and the Dead no longer rise.

[removeimpurity]

The dead still hold life where you are from? That is interesting.

But it does sound troublesome.

[...] Right, then. Is there anything in particular you'd like to know about where I hail from?

[keyandstar]

It is. They can be very dangerous. They prey on the living.

Do you have magic in your world?

[removeimpurity]

Troublesome, indeed.

My people have our alchemy as opposed to more commonly known forms of magic, but I wager that the other countries in my world would have the more traditional sort.

[keyandstar]

What sort of magic would you call traditional?

[removeimpurity]

Throwing around fireballs, making potions. That sort of thing.

There are people that do so, but... my own people do not.

[keyandstar]

What people is that?

[removeimpurity]

My people, you mean?

We are known as Ecliptians, and our home world is called Selles.

[keyandstar]

It must be very different from my home.

[removeimpurity]

I would imagine so.

Though I've no experience with any other world than my own, so I cannot say for certain.

[There are a few spots from where Syre is lightly tapping her pen against the journal, before:]

I am not keeping you from anything, am I? We have been exchanging words for quite some time.

[keyandstar]

Oh, I suppose we have. You're not keeping me from anything, really, but I'm sure you have better things to be doing than writing to me.

[ Did someone say low self esteem? ]

[removeimpurity]

I don't, really. I just wanted to be sure that I wasn't keeping you from anything!

But, writing can only do so much. How about this - we can meet up when you're settled into the village, and perhaps have a cup of tea. Does that sound alright to you?