This is my last record before the Asperic Voice leaves me for good. My Sorcery has been tainted by age, and my hands can no longer hold firm a pen, let alone dip with a quill.

My word is all that remains to tell the tale, so heed me well.

Never have I seen such a race.

Humans, foul beasts with flesh inferior to our own, the grace to walk on two feet like our own, journeyed from the Wild into our realm.

I saw it in their eyes.

Fear.

Madness.

Conviction.

I believe that had this land not already been exhausted of the Inextinguishable Races, they still would have fought bitterly to a dark end.

Why did they leave the world where they had populated and thrived for so long?

Ha! You would never believe it.

One fowl of theirs spoke of a great, mysterious plague with terror shimmering in his eyes like wildfire.

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Their Shamans could not drive it away, so they gathered the strong among them to venture here through forms of advanced Shamanry, and chart new lands to inhabit.

But heed boy! Heed the laughable hypocrisy!

Despite all the cruelty they have exercised in these last years in our world, years named after their own exalted, they made a pact to not war against each other.

Yes, before they Ascended.

Before they shed weakness.

They bound their bloods with an ancient Shamanic Charm, that should they thrive and settle in our lands, there would be no need for bloodshed among themselves.

Can you believe it, boy?

Hmph!

Yes. Yes. Of course. Fortune fell on them like rain, did it not?

The humans fell on this land just when the true predators had doused themselves. They barely found true challenges on their quest to find and make a habitable home.

And yes, who would have thought that they would find the Helix which has been warred over through stacked times, and fall prey to its alluring streams?

I know, boy. Still, it was more of a fortune for them.

After all, they transcended weakness through it.

Of the five streams that flowed from the Helix in times before, only three remained now, but the humans still gained a gift they did not ask for, let alone deserved.

Each pack of fools to drink from one stream... I saw them cry, suffocated by boundless power.

Yet, I say, we can at least be grateful that not all of these men of fragile innards were blessed with restraint after attaining the might of gods.

Bah!

Humans breathing fire.

Humans beating large wings against our winds.

Humans with scales harder than steel.

I refuse to revere them as they demand. The Qin Asha. The Dragons...

They are unworthy.

Even their lesser counterparts boy, the Mimada, the Coddled, also born of dark drink, are not innocent.

I have seen their schemes. The same humanity pulls their lusts, and they are not satisfied that it is the Qin Asha that steer the lands now, marching stiff-nosed in the streets, sweltering pride burning from their gut. Literally!

But mark my words, boy.

This realm is bountiful.

Different lands repel each other, and I say with dread, we may just see a different age emerge before our eyes. For the greed of human souls in Dragon flesh forever grows, as does their arrogance.

Sigh...

Yes, boy. I hope you will watch for me. When your Asperic Voice clings to your tongue at that ripe age, rip it out, lest you attract them. Watch and wait. I would like you to tell me the thrilling tale after you follow... hopefully many... many lifetimes... far into... the.... future.