Savra, my blade, my love, the thing that has caused so much misery – the edge that has severed hundreds of lives like magma through butter. Was that blade a person this whole time? A soul trapped in a blade? No, it goes beyond that. It is not a soul trapped in a blade, but a person who became a knife. A monster that is completely unable to move yet can cause destruction on an unimaginable scale by giving a human the potential to do evil. This makes sense now that I think about it – the reason I struggled to give her up so much. When Savra was taken from me in captivity, I had every intention of either dying or getting her… getting it back. It was also forcefully wrenched from my grasp, and even then it was only when I was unconscious. Savra really bonded with me and connected us at the hip. Perhaps it is only through me that it can properly live. Perhaps it is from killing that Savra gets sustenance. Perhaps this curse is not just for me, but to torment Savra as well. I will not kill. I have what feels like a phobia of slaughter and death now. It reminds me of the poor people who somehow get a phobia of water – unable to drink until death takes them slowly and painfully. I wonder what thoughts fill their heads. I wonder if our situations are anything alike, or is the pain I feel a fraction of theirs, or is their pain but a fraction of mine? Death will not come for me as quickly, but the torment will never end. The only thing I can do is look forward and keep the screams… so many screams, and pains, and fear, and cruelty, and sobs – I must keep those thoughts at bay. I must do good acts until there is at least some form of redemption achieved on my end. Then shall my soul be cleansed, or at least I hope that is what happens. There are two outcomes, the first is that once redeemed the screaming will stop, and the other is that nothing will happen. I believe the first one is what I should strive towards, impossible or not. By Fael, to do enough good for all the evil I have committed is an impossible task, to begin with. But Savra, oh how I pity you. Are you completely starved yet unable to move and speak? Is that why I had the craving to cut myself on you when I went without a kill for long enough? That would make sense but… but little does now.

Is all dreg just people being transformed? Is the material different? Is it merely able to catch souls or is it made from them? I almost wish this information was never given for reality makes little sense now. If it truly is made from body and soul, then is the money that runs Wol’zarath torn up souls? Does each one have a consciousness? Is the collar around my neck someone trying to break free from their torturous existence? Is that the reason why people – wait. The road. Dreg. I… I don’t know when it was discovered. Could dreg have come into existence from the road? Could it all be bodies and souls of the cursed, destined to never rest for the crime of going against nature by traveling along this path? A monster, the watcher said. I suppose a weapon is monstrous, and a person who becomes something that is far beyond humanity would be the very definition of a monster. If I die… will this be what is waiting for me? And if the Watcher did not intend to show me the truth of dreg, who did? Did it get carried away or is there something else out there showing pity on me? At least this is a mystery I can focus on – perhaps solving this will be my redemption.

A tree that consumed both cursed flesh and dreg,

A sun that boiled bodies to thick sludge,

What to avoid this twisted fate I beg,

‘Dreg’ means worthless, leftover, useless smudge.

Dreg is money, it is life, it is gold,

Humans give all for a single dreg coin,

Dreg dictates houses and if you feel the cold,

Dreg is all society needs to join.

Yet this we worship is torture and cursed,

A cruel punishment that has been rehearsed.

If I am wrong, then so be it. All these thoughts are for naught. If I am right then society – no, the world should know what dictates our lives. There are those whose entire personality revolves around the amount of dreg they have – poor fools. As if a mere piece of metal could give happiness or station. Not that I am one to talk, for it is a piece of sharpened dreg that became my love. I gave up all just to use a sick blade. This… does beg the question. For those who can forge dreg, what does that mean? What do you do? I need to ask someone but the one person I ever talked to that could forge dreg is long dead, and that was not even me. I… miss Statue. I miss being happy and cheerful. Redeemed and understood. Oh, I am so sorry I tore that away from you – one who managed to lay your weapon down and start a new life in a family that truly loved you. I was your horror. I was your monster. I was your curse.

Could the reason that man was so angry,

Be because dreg can be good or evil?

Did I turn Savra or did she thank me?

Am I the cause? Was she always lethal?

I wish to talk with Savra now she’s gone,

I can get clarity from her curved form,

I know this is stupid, this is just wrong,

Could this be an opportunity swarm?

I can show them! Redemption has a chance,

It was fear, but now I can move. Advance!

This is my chance, my opportunity to do something truly good. I have the chance to show the world exactly what twisted evil has dictated our lives for so long. Perhaps if we work together, dreg can be returned to the road. Perhaps if there is no dreg, there is a way we can close this tunnel and end the curse. Perhaps there will be a breakthrough and the lost souls can be reclaimed and put to rest. Perhaps I can save more souls than I took. This is all so stupid. So foolish, yet not dull. I know exactly what is going to happen if I even attempt to explain any of this – who would people trust? A serial killer who has most definitely gone insane in their eyes or any number of forgers, holy people, and scientists out there. People would rather kill themselves than give up a single dreg, even if it meant the salvation of another soul. Humans don’t work together unless it benefits them. Even those who are the leaders of different villages and cities argue about mundane things to stop any forward-thinking through. Why would they want to get rid of dreg when they are only in a position of power because of it? Why would they give anything away? Where is the proof, they will ask. The ravings of a madman, they will say. No one will ever trust one who presents such a ludicrous idea, even less so the words of one who has caused so much pain and suffering. Or perhaps I am exactly the one who can say this – perhaps I am the one who can actually make a difference – I have nothing to lose. I have never lied before, and that fact can be leveraged to make people listen. I am not a fool that can be pushed around, I am not so thin-skinned that the answer to any problem would be to challenge someone to a fight. Such terribly dull people do that, although it does happen a surprising amount of times. I have been in a number of bar fights because of the wild ravings of an idiot who could not understand that they were wrong – no, this is the wrong way of looking at a fantastic opportunity. Now I have the chance to make a difference. All it will take is the right words at the perfect time. I cannot lie ever again for if I did, the little credibility I have would be null and void. First, I need proof beyond ‘a vision’, and I have just the thing. When the bodies turned to mush, the weapons of people who died remained. There are several that drifted into and onto the cart. I have all manner of different dreg equipment now. There is already a palpable fear of interacting with a dreg weapon, especially since no one dared even touch Savra until she fell from my grasp. It fell from my grasp. Could… could they know something? If they do, that is my chance. When I see the guards this time, that will be when I strike – when I show them the dreg weapons I have, tell them my story, and take my first step to redemption. It was impossible a moment ago but now? Now there is something here. To change the world though… while redemption was impossible and now I have a means to achieve it, the task that needs to be completed might be even more impossible. No, not impossible. Highly improbable, which is a step up at least.

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Bliss’s hooves melodically drum with faint splashes as the road clears up. Each step forwards takes me closer to the plane of pastures. I wonder if they use dreg there. I wonder if Savra was going to end up in the plane of pastures if it was not for me? I suppose if blood is what Savra needs, being a butcher’s knife would do the trick. That is what Savra’s creator said, after all – she was destined to become a butcher's knife before being taken by not only me but also Statue. Perhaps it is bad luck or maybe dreg is destined to be wielded by the depraved. Cursed to never find peace or salvation. Destined to end up walking the road once more. Destined to become sludge – and perhaps from sludge bodies become dreg? Yes, that makes sense. I think. My goodness, so many revelations in this ride, yet no proof of anything. All I have been doing is riding and thinking, connecting dots where there might be no actual dots. I might be creating a painting out of invisible paint that never existed, to begin with. Not that any of that is an issue. Before I lacked a goal, a motive to move forward. I was trapped in my mind and past with that damned curse, but now there is a direction. Dreg can be anything. It can be animated. It can be forged. It can move. It can be alive. The ivy had a mind of its own, beyond merely engineering a metal plant that moves through the physics and artistry of its creation. Dreg is the chain that holds everything together, but also down. It allows us to be protected from beasts and monsters – to create impenetrable chains that cannot be breached yet from a chained gate we have created our own prison. Ingenuity is what we have over every other life, so we should revel in it. Not be trapped by chains of our own creation. If that I think is true, humanity has just started. Humanity has just begun, and I can spur it forward – to generations of happiness. Then, and only then, shall my work – my redemption – be complete.

I need to ask someone about where dreg comes from. I need to ask about how it was originally found. There are so many questions I have – oh, I wish for freedom so I can ask these questions but the dreg collar around my neck is designed to be an impossible price to pay off. I am to walk this road until I die of old age, and only then shall I be able to pay off a fraction of its price. Remembered only as a prolific evil killer. I do wish that brought me any semblance of joy but what can one do when a curse rings so strongly. Killing is not dull, it is impossible. A killer who kills killers is what I wanted to become. A killer who destroyed those that would commit evil acts. I thought id be reborn as a monster that could walk and move in the world, born in a place like Fael that could stalk those who stalk others like I once did. Chained to my monstrous desires and tendencies, huh? Now I know it is dreg. All dreg. I have used it, and shall return to it if I am not careful. Before that point though, I must walk on the path of salvation for all humanity to revel in if I am successful in my mission. Talk to guards and get sent to prison anyway. Talk to people and receive only hatred in return. Talk to anyone and end up back in Langnet's road. Attempt to seek out answers and make my situation worse. Every step forward forces me to drag the weight of hundreds of souls I have killed, but such punishment is why this must be done. Redemption. I like that word. It rolls of the tongue so beautifully – there it is! A door. Large, wooden, and with leaves, grass, roots, and all forms of fauna trying hungrily to burst forth and fill up the air of Langnet road. Leaves of green, red, purple, blue, violet – the entire rainbow vibrantly on magnificent display. I reach the door. Bliss has somehow survived. I scratch his nose. This has been quite the journey.

I knock on the door. The plants are moved violently. The door snaps open. Guards stand at the ready, with several actively cutting back the stunning plant life as it regrows at an impossible rate. This is my chance. My beginning.

I will give my life,

Transform the world as it’s known,

No chains, no more dreg.