- A written diary of the day by an unknown bystander -
It was a day more serene than usual in Lucille's Light. Arguments were surprisingly calm and blood was shed in small amounts. There was no foreboding, no warning or preparation that this day would paint the city red.
Wraiths and lava stone orcs started to flood the city. Not from the outside, rather, almost like they've been hiding in the city itself. Then, when the dark orange sky started to show its fragrant red, that's when they all started to attack. This was not merely a brawl or a duel, it was extermination. None were to be spared of the ensuing slaughter, not even the market district, which was considered a safe haven from the city's brutality.
Mass murderers or revolutionaries fighting for their ideal. It depends on which side you are on. Screams continue to multiply as the unexpecting citizens start to be gutted. An indiscriminate slaughter, no demon or devil was safe. It didn't matter if you were a child, a mere infant, woman, or man. There was one common goal, let there be death and smear the blood of these lost wanderers over the walls they hid behind. For they have forgotten the one who has brought them light, the one who has given them a reason to exist. Di.....ev.....fo....pra....
- End of the written diary, the sentences that follow are unreadable. The pages are torn and stained with blood. The ink that was supposed to form the latest sentences, has been splurged. Signaling two ends. The end of this diary and of the one who wrote it. -
[A diary of an intelligent orcish commander, a night before the invasion]
When did they forget their goal? When did they trade their wrath and anger for the comfort of this city? How ungrateful, how despicable, how weak they've become.
A city where the strongest can do whatever they want. What a joke. Those who've never fought in war preach their own strength. Those who've never seen the ones they care about bleed out in front of their eyes. Those who refuse to see what lies beyond their sight.
That are the citizens of Lucille's Light. The church, which was meant to revere the goddess, stabbed her in the back and used her death to build its own strength. The arch devils and demons who rule this city think they are gods themselves. They don't know power nor strength, for they have never strayed out of their given path. Never have they traversed the darkest of plains, nor had they ever had to worry that tomorrow would never arrive.
A city that has lost its conviction is merely some rubble of stone waiting for time to pass. However, do not worry. What has been lost and forgotten can be taught again. Lucille's Light shall have purpose again, for on these grounds a new age shall begin. An age where the ways of old will be resurrected. An age where all those who followed will bask in the glory of her purest light. Unlike the pretenders that roam about. Still, do not fear pretenders, your death, and blood will become sacred. A foundation for greatness, one that you would not do willingly. Allow us to grant all your meaningless lives purpose once more.
You will resist, you will scream, you will suffer for your negligence. Do not blame those who will grant you salvation and purpose. Blame yourself for failing to see beyond your own vision. Blame yourself for letting your mind stray by simple debauchery and other small comforts.
Do not fear the end that has come. Celebrate the beginning it will bring.
[End of the diary]
— hastily written notes by a member of the council of sight before departing for combat —
For all those who might read this letter. Savages and brutes have invaded, they plunder and murder without exemption. Tarnishing the legacy our goddess left behind. Anima the wraith queen and Ulthriis Kaahen lead these warmongering dogs. Claiming to have a vision, a vision so grand that it would ensure a golden age. Do not believe the blabbering of these heathens! They only merely seek to act out their desires whilst trying to save their damned souls by giving it a made up meaning.
What morality is there to find when you decide to burn the only piece of civilization our realm has. Lucille's Light is the past, present and future of Apollyian.
Let me ask you a question. Do you remember the time before it was founded? Are there any scripts or ancient texts that we have not retrieved? We've searched far and wide for any material containing the time period before our glorious city existed. There was none, nothing at all. Do you realize the magnitude of these words? No sentence, not even a word, was written about us before the first city. Only vague mythology remains, and even those vagrants of information are scarce and riddled with speculation.
If you're reading this note, then it most likely means that I've gone to join the battle. My faith is strong, not only for Luciel but also for my colleagues. I beg of you, reader, during these trying times, do not let Lucille's Light be forgotten. Sing its name far and wide so that even the races of Genesias will hear its tale. If the city falls, then sing about how it resisted until its dying breath. Sing about those who wished to live in this splendor future, where demons and devils did not roam like mindless beast. If the city stands, then sing about how it valiantly fought against the barbarians, who wished to make us forgotten memories. Sing songs of revelry for those who stood up and fight against them. For they have fought against your erasure, they've guaranteed that your life will be more than a vague mythological tale.
We're more than that. So much more. At least one word in the book called time.
-end of scribbled note of the member of the council of sight-