The Martyr

My Heart for all.
One: Even though I live among all of my brothers and sisters, I am alone. The community has always been there for me, and I have always lived for the community. We are all one under Dagonir, our unifying light. The one truth, that the work of one benefits all. I can't see myself doing this for the rest of my life. I mine and I mine, chipping away at the stone and earth. The volcanic ash filling my lungs, cause me to cough, hurting my throat, stinging my eyes. What am I to do with this life?
I cannot tell anyone these things. So I write them here. On these scraps of paper that fall from the floor above my den. With these pieces of charcoal that I steal from the tunnels. My hands are as black as my thoughts and I see no way out of day to day activities. I serve the community. I serve Dagonir under the oath,
One heart for all.

Two: I can't remember when I first began thinking of myself as myself. When did it become I instead of we? When did I decide that I no longer wished to be apart of the whole and just wanted something more. The days blend together all black and red with ash upon stone. I don't remember days, or weeks sometimes. The only thing I have to look forward to is confession, but now there is something within me that gives me pause when it comes to confession. What if my thoughts become known? What if I am slated for punishment, or worse, cast out on my own. How would I survive without my community? How would I survive without the whole? I don't know, and even though I'm tired of the constant struggle I have to endure in the mines, I'm still too afraid to speak these thoughts out loud.
Three: Something new happened to me. I saw Tora. It wasn't like before, or any other day when I worked and saw the blank faces, it was different. I saw Tora as Tora. Not as part of the community but as herself. I watched her, chipping away at the stone as I did next to me. I saw the waves of heat pelt against our skin and watched the sweat drip and as I did I began to see things I hadn't before. Her horns, rough and ragged, edged curling from her head outwards to behind her ears and just under her chin. Then I looked to Tepok. Whose thick fur covered arms worked the boulders from the ground to the carts and I think I can see something there. That they aren't the same. They are different. I don't know why, but that difference stirred something in me. It was like being filled with a pushing pressure that made me want to burst. To shout, and raise my fist. But I held myself and only watched them.

Four: It wasn't just Tora and Tepok that were new to me. There were those with similarities as well. Like Tes, who like me had strong hands, and claws to grip and rip. Hers were different, more slender and agile. While mine are huge paws with sharp nails that help me to dig into the earth. I had always wondered why I was chosen for the mines, and not for the soldier caste, or the server caste. I had simply accepted that this was the way things were. I was made for the mines, my sole purpose was the mines. The reason I was born. My Physi manifesting in moving earth and the hard rock under the fiery mountain. I was to serve Dagonir and the community this way and only this way. But now that I look on my fellow Veral all I can see is how we are different. How each of us, regardless of the similarities in our magics, and our physical looks, are all slated for the same task. What is it that chooses us for the castes we are in? What chooses us for the jobs within those castes?

The more I watch, the more I become unable to look away. I can't stop thinking about it. The differences between me and my fellows. How out of sync we truly are. The community would have me believe that we are all made to serve each other. That no single one of us is different. But I'm starting to see that it may not be the case. I watch Tora, Tepok, and Tes. My own habits don't reflect theirs and theirs are all separate from each other. I have a single doubt, that what if the other castes hold more true to the vigor of Dagonir. That they feel above me because of their loyalty. Or is it because of my blasphemous thoughts that I have begun to see the differences of my companions. Maybe that's all it is. I see myself for who I am. But the others still see the whole. Am I lost?

Five: I spoke to Tes today. I asked her what she thought about being different in her own way. She couldn't answer me. She only watched me as I have watched her for so many weeks and I could see the sudden doubt that had entered her as well. I wish I hadn't done this. I feel...I am not sure how I feel. Apprehensive, as if talking to her put me on an edge of a cliff and even the tiniest bit of wind would push me over the edge. I don't have the ability, I think to be able to explore the thoughts I wish to explore anymore than this. They go against the teaching of Dagonir. They go against the community. I'm not sure where I go from here, or what I'm supposed to do with myself now that I see my differences. I can only hope that when confession occurs that I will be forgiven and possibly made anew. Perhaps revealing my thoughts will bring me out of the fog that clouds the air of my mind.
Six: Something strange is happening in the mines. I watch like normal. But I see that the others see the differences now. That each of them are examining themselves. Sometimes during meals I catch Tora looking at me. I see Tes whispering in her ear. I watch as they watch and I'm beginning to wonder what it is that they see. Do they see me as defective, have they gotten wind of my heresy? I ask myself for I have no one else to ask. Tes' behavior fills me with a sense of dread. As if everything might come to a close and that I may no longer continue to serve the community. Oh Dagonir' forgive me. You know my heart is yours and that it beats for all. I serve in the mines, my strength can only be made for the mines. My blood and blisters are for you, my work is for you. Please do not punish me at confession.
Seven: The world around me has changed. The mines feel unnatural, the volcanic ash no longer falls in silence. I can hear the clanging of pickaxes ringing out like never before. The heightened screech of metal on rock, the scratching echo of boulders falling into place, of cast Physi upon straining bodies. The movement of the community, of the miners have changed. They whisper now. They speak now. Their voices, low and mumbling fill the dim silence and I can no longer feel the ash. My world is shattered and it feels as if there is nothing familiar left. There are some that still go about their day in the manner of service. Dagonir's heart beats in their chests and their heart is for the whole. I can tell this. Their differences do not make them stand out. They are the same in the ways of the community, but the whispers. I'm shaking at not knowing what it means. The drivel being spewed into the flames makes me lose my grip. I no longer have the focus needed to continue my work. My hand slips and the others watch. They watch like I do and I do not know why but I look over my shoulder now. The more I see the change, the more I believe that speaking my thoughts aloud was a mistake. One that will echo throughout the halls of Muspeil and one that will chase me to the end of my service. Oh Dagonir, what have I done? What is it that you wish of me?

Eight: Confession is tomorrow. I have made my mind to speak clearly. To rid myself of this hypocrisy that has infested my thoughts. I must remember that I am for the whole. My job is important to the whole. It is not the differences that make us but what we do for Dagonir and the community that defines us. I know that now. I will speak these things at Confession. I will lay myself bare before the community so that they can judge me. I hope that what I have done does not harm the others as I believe only I have fell from Dagonir’s graces.

Nine: I have confessed, and now I lay in my den. I have been sentenced to be relocated tomorrow. No longer am I working the mines. The council didn’t tell me where I’d be going, only that my new duties will still serve the whole. I am glad for this. I may no longer be able to break myself in the mines for Dagonir but I will still be useful. There is a sense of security in this. One that allows me to smile. I am safe and secure in knowing that my sins have been purged. Thank you Dagonir for allowing me the chance to serve you once more.

Ten: They came for me in the night. The men under the service of the council. They had drug me to the pits, where we offer the dead to serve the whole in the afterlife. I knew then that I was not to be forgiven. I was to be an offer, a sacrifice of self so that the community can remain in tact. I don’t know why I had thought I would be forgiven, my blasphemous thoughts had reached farther and stretched into the hearts and minds of more than I could have possibly imagined. I am a failure, for the whole, for the community and to Dagonir and the only thing I can offer up is my life.
Tes saved me. Her, some miners and others from different castes. They swooped down on the soldiers escorting me, their beaten corpses still fresh in my mind. The others cheered at the small victory and in raised, and excited murmurings rushed me in hugs and praise. They cheered my courage. That I, above all of them, spoke to the council, spoke to Dagonir and confessed that I had seen that I was different. That I was more than the whole. I still don’t see what they see. I still can’t come to terms with me being more important that the community. I have failed them and now the ones who say they are different have nothing. The community has abandoned them. They are alone without support, without the embrace of the Unifying God. We are lost.
I will not join them. I have expressed myself in that way and that I wish to stay. Yes I am aware that this may be my final writing. That even though I have a self, that self serves Dagonir and the community. If my body and my death serves than I shall allow it to serve in that way. I bid Tes and Tora and Tepok goodbye. This being my final letter, my final account.
Once again, as I offer myself to the community I only ask Dagonir that you spare them from my fate, and forgive them for my actions. They have self yes, but that does not mean they cannot serve. Let them repent by serving the whole. By bringing back to the community with themselves and rejoin the conclave, rejoin your loving embrace, as I have under your oath,
One heart for All

Type

Journal, Personal

Medium

Paper

Location

Aethzier: The Golden Sea