Date: 632 AF March 9th

As we bid farewell to the horned sect's region, the landscape shifts around us, transforming from rugged terrain to rolling plains as far as the eye can see. We are getting closer to the Last Great City of Tiamaht, the final destination of our journey. The anticipation in the air is palpable, but amidst the excitement, there is a lingering sense of unease that weighs heavily on my mind.

My wounds from our encounter with the creatures of the Veil have healed, leaving behind only faint scars as a reminder of the danger we faced. The healing cloth did as its name intended, and after a few days, I was fully healed, well-rested, and ready for the journey to come.

But there is something else, something far more troubling, that gnaws at the edges of my consciousness.

At first, I dismissed it as nothing more than a trick of the mind, a side effect of our encounter with the creatures of the Veil. But as the days pass and the memories continue to slip away, I cannot help but wonder if there is something more sinister at play.

Legends and tales surface in my thoughts, I banish them as mere superstition.

My fellow Pathfinder and senior of Silver Class Variana has taken a keen interest in my well-being, she stalks me as a hunter would a prey and dribbles in her journal whenever I am near enough to answer one of her bothersome questions. I am fearful of her gaze for it is not affection she seeks, her eyes hold no such emotions, she observes me not as a potential partner but as how a tinker would observe a scientifically curious crash dummy.

She and I are of the same age of nineteen and so it confuses me greatly, I am unsure of whether to pursue my own interest or hold back in favor of our professional relationship, our bonds as companions are as strong as ever despite her being a rank above me, Something she takes pleasure in reminding me of. We have grown closer over the past few days than we have been since our days as cadets. She has taken to teasing me with the name stranger-it has gone to the extent that I grow wiry of her greeting words 'Hello Stranger'.

I have decided that it would be in my best interest to avoid her. If only it were that easy.

Women are strange and troublesome creatures, I recall my father's words- a woman's thoughts, a profound enigma, veiled from mortal comprehension, yet their hearts if tenderly embraced, can be captured before they even realize.

Damn-fool knew nothing about the ways of women, if mother didn't drag him to the chapel he would have forever been a hopeless romantic. I wonder, if they were alive would father still tinker in his shop; would mother still pester him to go shopping for the latest in fashion with their earnings?

That crazy old man. May the Chosen guide their paths to the Ivory Plane. I wish them an eternal happiness there.

Despite the dangers we faced, my sister remains resolute and unwavering in her excitement to become a Priestess of the Temple of Tiamaht. Her happiness has always been my beacon of light, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, there is hope.

My actions were not in vain and I shall not let my journey end before it even began. We are moving faster by the day, our nights longer as we rest, the final path to the last great city is near.

Only time will tell, but one thing is certain – the road ahead is fraught with uncertainty, and the dangers that lie in wait are more insidious than I could have ever imagined. But this is the path that I have chosen.

For I am a Bronze Class Pathfinder Extraordinaire.

Until next time,

Rodney Edwarte

.....

Date: 632 AF March 13th

It began abruptly.

The strange phenomenon that has begun to unfold around us; one that I cannot ignore. I began to understand Pathfinder Variana's profound interest in my well-being. She was the first to notice the signs it seems.

The Fading has taken root within me, the rune's protection was too little. The void-worms venom proved too much. I was bitten beyond what the runes could manage when I protected Lily. There was little the healing cloth could do aside from healing my body. It is a dreadful truth.

I am infected with the Fading - a curse of the Titan Ouroboros. Only, this is no legend or story, no song to be sung, I am struck with the reality of it as I pen this - its effects have already begun to bear fruit.

The people around me are losing their memories of me – of Rodney Edwarte, Bronze Class Pathfinder extraordinaire - Brother. It started with small things, a forgotten name here, a fleeting memory there. But now, it seems as though I am fading from existence before their very eyes.

Even my sister, whose love for me remains unwavering, is not immune to the effects of the fading. Her memories of me may be slipping away, but her feelings remain, a beacon of light in the darkness. She clutches onto the locket with our photos every hour, refusing to forget despite the strangeness that surrounds me.

Her tenacity emboldens me to fight for myself, to dare, to dream, and to hope. I will not let fear take me, fear is the mind-killer. I will not misery and despair ruin me, they are the soul-killer.

I am a pathfinder and my journey has only begun. I made a promise to her, for as long as I live, I shall find a cure to this vile infection of the mind.

But amidst the uncertainty, there is a glimmer of hope. A Pathfinder's Journal is protected from the effects of the Veil, a safeguard against the erasure of one's existence. It is through this journal that they know who I am, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

I praise the Divine Family for their blessing, the Chosen Gods of Ventura have not abandoned me yet. They have granted me a blessing so I will not abandon myself. I must steel myself and find a cure.

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Hope has not forsaken me.

Variana has been chosen to be my caretaker on this journey. To watch me and ensure that I am who I am, to prove my existence to our companions and my sister should the need arise.

Despite her persistent troublesome behavior we have formed an unlikely bond.

I've learned that her father was taken by the fading and though there is no trace of his existence left, his journal, his legacy as a pathfinder remains- it was the reason she followed his path.

It surprised me to learn that it was the cause of our first meeting within the Chamber of Chronicle.

She told me her true name is Variana Vincent De Grace, she carries her father's name Vincent De as a cherished momentum, it is all she has of his existence.

I promised to remember her name, for she will soon forget mine.

She wishes to help me on my journey as best she can and has promised to take care of my sister in my absence when the final stages of The fading take hold of me. Her dream is to find a cure for the disease that has afflicted me. To that end, we share a common goal, a common dream. I have accepted her help and she, mine.

She is strange to me, her gaze has softened, her actions are tender, and her words are light and with care. She persists in calling me a stranger and I have decided to call her that as well. Her memories are fading like the others but she recognizes me more than they do even as time passes. She doesn't speak of it much like my sister Lily, they've grown closer too.

It's strange, Variana continues to stalk me but the mood has changed. She is no longer the hunter and I am no longer the prey.

I dare to wonder, to hope but fear holds me captive. I am infected and despite her perseverance, she will soon forget. How cruel this world is.

There is no future for the forgotten among those who are remembered.

But a promise is a promise, it is what binds us. I shall find a cure once we reach the last great city and return to my sister's side, and should a chance provide itself then Variana and I, perhaps, Maybe…

My path is clear now. If there is no path that allows me to return to them then I shall forge one through courage and steel. I know of stories; of songs, and legends old and new. Now it is time I write my own.

For I am Rodney Edwarte, Bronze Class Pathfinder extraordinaire.

Until next time,

Rodney Edwarte

...

Excerpt from: "Whispers of the Forgotten: Tales from the Veil by Alex Ventura"

"The song of those who don't belong - The Forgotten Hunters of the Veil

(Verse 1)

In the depths where shadows dance,

A group of hunters take their stance.

Forgotten souls with hearts of steel,

They hunt the snake, its hunger to seal.

(Chorus)

Oh, the hunters of the Endless Hunt,

In the veil, their duty to confront.

With memories lost, they bear the brunt,

Seeking the snake, their courage blunt.

(Verse 2)

Through the mists and darkened gloom,

They track the serpent to its tomb.

With weapons forged from forgotten lore,

They'll reclaim what was stolen before.

(Verse 3)

Through misty veils and tangled dreams,

They'll challenge the darkness, so it seems.

For every memory, every cherished thought,

They'll battle on, their mission wrought.

(Bridge)

Their quest is perilous, their journey long,

But in their hearts, the memories throng.

For every stolen moment, every tear shed,

They'll fight until the snake lies dead.

(Chorus)

Oh, the hunters of the Endless Hunt,

In the veil, their duty to confront.

With memories lost, they bear the brunt,

Seeking the snake, their courage blunt.

(Outro)

So heed the call of the forgotten few,

The hunters bold, the chosen crew.

For in the depths where darkness reigns,

The Endless Hunt forever remains.".

....

Excerpt from: "Veil of the Forgotten Ghosts: Unraveling the Mystery of the Veiled Land by Alex Ventura"

"There exists a phenomenon as mysterious as it is formidable—a veiled wall of light and aura encircling the globe, separating the realms of the North from the South. This ethereal barrier, known simply as the Anomalous Veil, is shrouded in tales of otherworldly creatures and anomalous properties that have captivated the imagination of scholars and adventurers for generations.

But beyond the veil lies a danger far more insidious than any creature or anomaly—a disease known as the Fading. Those unfortunate enough to be exposed to the energies of the Veil or the venom of its creatures risk succumbing to this relentless affliction, which slowly erodes the memories of those around them until they are but strangers to them.

The Fading begins innocuously, with subtle lapses in memory and moments of confusion for those around the infected. But over time, it metastasizes like a malignant cancer, consuming the very essence of the afflicted until nothing remains of their memory. Those who once knew the infected will treat them as nothing more than strangers.

Over time even physical objects tied to the infected individual will succumb to the ravages of the Fading, fading away into nothingness as if they never existed.

Among the denizens of our world, there exists a unique race known as the Titanborne, those mortals equal to the chosen—a people blessed or cursed with divine power and resilience from the estranged slumbering gods known as the Titans. The fading is often called either a blessing or a curse of Ouroboros for the power it grants the infected unwanted as they may be.

There are people afflicted by this insidious disease are known as the Forgotten Ones, the Abandoned—outcasts who wander the world as strangers- it is the source of their title; The Strangers, their very existence erased from the memories of all who once knew them.

They speak without words and move without sound or sense. No wall or prison can hold them and they hunt the creatures of the veil with a passion and hunger for vengeance, the call it the Endless hunt-their eternal duty.

The only truth to their existence is the songs and tales of the Borderlands. Look no further than the tale of the Belladonna Chosen Family- A tale that serves as both a warning and as proof of their existence.

During the age of formation, when the cities and factions of the north were in their infancy, a son of the Belladonna Divine Family Ventured to the veil and kidnapped a few Strangers to take as pets. Their blessing granted them power over the sand as they ruled the sand dunes of the west. The Youngest son of the Divine Belladonna family - Keith of the Red Sand thought himself invisible and ventured into the veil, he stole a family of Strangers from their home within the trench of the veil, paraded them through his streets, and performed vile acts upon them.

It was his greatest mistake.

The Forgotten ones responded in kind. Two days after his heinous acts the sun rose over the horizon but he did not. The Youngest Son of the Divine Belladonna's Family was found dead. His estate was in ruin and every soul who worked under him shared his fate. It took the stranger two hours to accomplish this feat. They came for their own and left nothing to chance, not a single person had any memory of the event despite the story born from it.

The denizens of the West were only left with a word of warning written in the blood of Keith of the Red Sand, it said - Do unto us what you wish us to do unto you.

The Belladonna Family would later seek out war with the Forgotten, a war that would have led to their extinction had they not retreated. They have since cut all ties with the Strangers and steered clear of the veiled region.

That day the West came to know the forgotten and their wraith. They also came to know them by a few different names, names that are whispered in hushed secrecy in fear of summoning them. While we in the East know them as the Forgotten One's or the Strangers.

The West knows them as The Ghosts of the Trench - Eternal Hunters of the Veil.

So brave adventures and scholars, let this be a warning and a lesson, should you ever encounter a pair of Strangers and you will know when you do, treat them with kindness and they shall return it in full although you will retain no memory of their acts. "

.....

-End of Chapter 4-