Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 53rd Day of Autumn, 1015
I wish I could kill them. Better yet, slap them so hard that their teeth fall out and then kill them.
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Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 17th Day of Spring, 1014
Dear diary, I’d like to celebrate my first diary entry by, well it’s not like you, Sir Diary, would want to know what happened today. It’s every bit as tiresome as all the other days. These peacock like fools strutting around thinking themselves to be smarter than the one they argue with. Some fools in the background thinking of outmaneuvering and plotting the simpletons, though the birdbrains make their greed so obvious they wonder why they haven’t been promoted and still remain as background characters. Then the truly fearsome old fogeys, though, it’s their own people and the people of our kingdom who should be more afraid than any others. Exploiting and blatant rule breaking, well I won’t get started. At least, they do keep each other suppressed. And then there is the King, look at his face, that conniving two-faced clod, smiling benevolently, a true ‘saint’ who plays the nobles keeping the state of the court exactly as it is. After all, if the nobles grew in power, well, he won’t be king any longer would he?
Anyways, I really don’t wish to ramble, but I seriously don’t want to and don’t know what to write here. I mean, they won’t be reading it, what’s with this reflection bullshit? Admittedly, I’m thankful no one else would read this; after all if the King doesn’t execute me for treason, the nobles would do it just because they think they can. After all, I doubt saying, “but I capitalised the K,” would let me off.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 18th Day of Spring, 1014
I seriously don’t want to do this anymore. Also, I found a crack in one of the storage rooms, and glimpsed at a sight of heavenly legs, till the maids clothed her. Shame I couldn’t see their faces or her butt or anything past about 5 inches above the knees, I really wanted to to whom these legs belonged to and why I can’t remember a pair so divine in all my time at court. Luckily, I have memorised the birthmark on her calf.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 20th Day of Spring, 1014
Okay here goes. So today I asked around about what other people wrote in their diaries, and some pompous prick who thinks he is all that just cause he knows a spell or two and bought his way up for the rest, whom I most definitely did not ask, replied that he wrote the origin of his name. The narcissistic dunce needed to write that? Even I could’ve done it for him, bitch and cuckold.
After some deliberating, perhaps I could disassemble my name. Perfect way to fill in some lines worth of drivel. Least, my drivel is better than theirs. Wait, did I just compare drivel?
Anyways, Ezekiel or Zeke as my mother calls me is what I was named after some knight about 400 years ago did something stupid and somehow came out okay. Even became famous for it and married the princess. The fool never realised his title of princess consort was the King’s idea of keeping him on a leash without giving him the slightest modicum of power.
Why was I named after this poser? Never could figure that one out.
Illyaeide is from my mother’s side, and being an elf, their middle name is actually their family name. An elf’s last name on the other hand is their profession. So Nyssa Illyaeide Alkiem was my mother’s name before marriage. Alkiem would refer to what we would call in the common tongue, alchemy. Of course, after her marriage, she had to add Hawke at the very end, to signify her noble house.
As for Hawke? Well long ago, before our family was promoted to a noble family we were bird messengers. Confused? Well, in a ‘critical situation’ which is idiotic noble commander speak for ‘I did something cause I wanted to impress people, and now I’ve fucked up’ during a war, our messenger falcon got a message across to a waiting army to begin its pincer movement, otherwise one of the arms would’ve been overwhelmed and we very possibly could’ve been ruled by another. As for why Hawke and not Falcon or Hawk. Well the House of Blineth’s symbol was a falcon, after their famed Commander Falcone. Since having ‘falcon’ would ‘impede the honour’ (I don’t get it either) of their house, we went with Hawk, its close enough. And not to be outdone, we too appended an ‘e’.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 3rd Day of Summer, 1014
Perhaps after all these entries, I should mention why the hell we were suggested to write. Truth be told, our alliance isn’t doing too well in the war. The enemies outnumber and overpower, but they seem to just be waiting for something, hopefully whatever they're waiting for doesn't arrive. Thus the king and a few ministers including myself the ‘junior’ court wizard went to visit the speaker of nonsense yet irrefutable crap, otherwise known as an oracle. I admit, her looks were surprising. For someone so closely connected to the divine, they sure have left her old and decrepit. Her yellowed skin wrinklier than when I fall asleep in the bath, shambling along with the aid of a gnarled crutch. It feels like she’d move on to the next world before she’d move close enough for us to strain to try and hear her raspy voice. According to her, the ‘divines’ suggested we mess with some unknown spatial magic and summon some so called heroes. But she warned us, opening her eyes wide enough I was scared they would fall out. She warned us we must have a strong control of our emotions. We must be as a blank slate, letting go of our desires and dreams in order for the summoning to work properly.
To date, I am clueless why being a blank slate would increase effectivity. After all, there has been many links showing anger could increase the effectiveness of fire magic and calmness of water. It was at this point, writing a diary was suggested amongst breathing exercises and meditation as a tool to reflect and enter a state of balance. Then the King goes ahead and suggests we should do all of it… daily.
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Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 68th Day of Summer, 1014
The day of equinox is approaching, which should happen around the 45th day of the 90 days of autumn. This date is when the spatial spell for summoning some heroes is scheduled. I wonder what it would feel like going to a different world. The sights I’d see, the people I would meet. Admittedly, as I was caught up in imagining a harem scene of the women I would undoubtedly conquer, I had odd feelings of melancholy. If I was shunted to that world would I be able to see my parents again? I was reminded of a trip I went to, a nine month sordid affair. What was done there would never be known. It was there that I, a young boy saw the greed and depravity of the nobles and the plight of the indigenous tribes. Under the guise of civilising them, and providing them the benefits of our society, the nobles stole and enslaved. Skirmishes over pepper plants, the indigenous men on both sides forced to fight and kill their own people, whilst watching their resources be taken just so they and their families can continue living their miserable lives. My father sat me down and asked me, whose side I wanted to be on. Predator or prey? It was then I too carried a mask with me. Many masks. A few for court, for family, for balls and social events. Only my parents ever saw my true face, and after a while, perhaps not even them, not even me.
I am a predator.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 40th Day of Autumn, 1015
5 days till hero summoning.
I'm still a ‘junior’ court wizard. My position as equally regal as my namesakes. Kept on a leash by the current King due to my outstanding healing capabilities. All the commoners think I’m close to the King, stationed as a direct aid and given a court title created just for me. Only I know the real truth. If only I was capable of offensive magics rather than only light magic I would be a court wizard, not ‘junior’. Best I came up with was a way to blind others and run away if any altercations occur. I also wasn’t given the position of court healer, nope, simply hand-tied and left as an insurance.
An absolute shame since I planned on impressing some heroes, or more preferably, heroines. I’d rope them in with magic class, and one thing will lead to another.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 43rd Day of Autumn, 1015
3 days till hero summoning.
I admit I am excited. I’ve even prepared a speech to say. On a side note, all the preparations have been made, the runic circles chiseled, the gems laid, formations formed, alchemic ichor prepared and the spell form and words memorised by the five of us performing said ceremony. Sad to say, I’m only included as an extra, using my light magic to stabilise the spell, to guide the ones being summoned and to heal if necessary. Still, I won’t let this put a damper on my mood.
Ezekiel Illyaeide Hawke, 45th Day of Autumn, 1015
Today is the day.
Us five involved in the ceremony, the King, the Queen and their guards and some servants make our way to the oracle’s temple. The temple is located about 420 metres up on a five hundred metre mountain. Parts of the temple hang out where life-like statues of various aspects of deities are chiselled. This is referring to the myriad forms of the deities, for example the deity of fire and its appearances, orange flames, blue flames, divine flames and a few others melded together form an aspect. Of course, no one knows its true appearance, but these flames are some of the constituent parts of the deity, or so it’s believed.
The journey up was uneventful, and we are joined by some initiates of the temple. Luckily the oracle had begun her journey to the peak of the mountain before we arrived; otherwise we’d miss the equinox. Why doesn’t she just retire, pass the mantle on, I’m sure the deities would give us better news were they presented with a young beauty who was asking the questions.
The top of the mountain, which usually would have nothing but howling winds to keep you company, was instead filled with various runic circles encompassed by defensive formations. Many high-quality gems provided the necessary power with good purity, looking at them, I can’t help but to feel an odd twitching in my heart. Imagine if I had all these to train and make equipment with, I would surely be able to cast offensive magic. Heck, even an ordinary dandy could become extraordinary. Such splurging of wealth, I had high expectations and hopes for these heroes. We made our way to the tent, inside which we saw some initiates and a sleeping wrinkly leather bag - I mean the oracle.
The best time for summoning would be when the sun was at its highest, such that we could use the energy provided to help power up our circles making it easier on the other four. Also, my light magic would be more effective during daytime, especially midday, so I had no complaints.
As midday approaches, the four began their preparations by beginning to fill in the runic circle and the defensive formation using their mana while I used my light magic in order to help channel and stabilise their mana, keeping it uniform and steady. As more and more mana filled the channels, a low hum of spatial magic filled the air. Space in the centre of the runic circle, the summoning destination began rippling as we attempted to tear space.
I thought back to the promises of the oracle. Heroes blessed by the divines themselves during their trip, some even granted special powers to aid us in our war. These blessing would help increase their affinity with certain elements, their mana pool and who knows what else. A part of me wishes it was me being summoned, granted gifts, being looked upon as the hope, the light in these dark times. Of course, the adult part of me crushed that naïve thought, someone like me would never compare to the absolute glory of these otherworldly heroes. Two and a half metre tall heavyset giants, dual wielding great axes or swords twice a man’s weight. Bathed in blood and cloaked in fire, just a glance could kill the weak-hearted. Perhaps I shouldn’t have listened to the idle talks of a few drunken nobles. Just the excitement and anxiety made my knees tremble.