Dear Diary,
The boy named Kai told me to journal — that the writing down of my feelings would help me sort through what he called “the noise.” I don’t truly have the grounds to question his insight. At the time, however, the girl named Noa had rolled her eyes and called him a “sensible pick-me” … whatever that means. I suspect her clear disdain for the majority of his antics is really a superficial covering up of her love for him, as it is for many siblings.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out how the blasted utensil I’m using to write still bleeds ink as I print. Is there no end to its voracious belly?
It’s been nearly three days since I ventured into this world, or rather, was violently yanked into it. I still haven’t been allowed to journey outside. When I asked, Kai had explained the danger to my psyche, elaborating on the sheer number of phenomenon which would apparently shatter my mind due to their incomprehensible natures. Noa had again, rolled her eyes, and then nodded in agreement.
I still don’t understand how I found myself here, but it is Noa and Kai who seems the most perturbed by it. It’s as if my mere presence makes them afraid, though of what, I still haven’t deduced. Surely these wonderfully dense-mattered individuals were used to the complexities of their own realm by now? Bizarre occurrences often spawned in the world I knew and were a natural part of its rhythm — a thing to anticipate and rejoice in.
But, here… every unknown thing which rears its head inspires unmistakable terror. I have never seen such a group of scholars so terrified by the truth. The closer they get to it, the more they shut their eyes and hearts like it is a poison their matter-bodies need to spit back out.
Then again, my two wardens are diligent in their care of me, bringing an amply array of sustenance that I’ve used to infer their individual, and vastly opposite, preferences.
My meals oscillate between roots and sweets, bread and cakes, fruit and delicacies so sugary I cannot help but believe they’ve been spelled by magic. Here, even the food is dense, sinking into my belly and then staying there long after being initially consumed.
The process by which these digested meals exit the body is… unusually and exponentially graphic, although Kai and Noa have given me my own “bath-room” quarters and have repeatedly assured me that this expelling of waste is normal.
Dear, Diary, I cannot help but feel as though this is a strange and harsh world. Although the colors burn bombastically and the food remains ever exquisite, I am burdened by the quiet of its energy, with not even my most simplest of spells flickering to life.
Perhaps it is no wonder that Noa and Kai are so uneasy in my company… they’ve never known the call of the wilderness nor experienced the joy of the Unknown’s womb. They are so shackled by their own physical senses that they are blind to almost everything else.
Of course they cannot feel this realm’s subtle and unending vibrations along their skin! For how can one become relinquished by their own chains whilst still wearing the restrictions of the body?
Dear Diary, I now cannot help but think that I was brought here to aid my two wardens and free their rigid, infertile minds. It will not be an easy task, but will certainly yield about a plethora of riches that even their tiny psyches are sure to behold. I shall begin this quest at dawn, then.
May the gods have mercy on their feeble, human spirits!
livs torres