Kixkti Xri's Journal

Pre-Translation Name:

Pre-Translation Description:

Pre-Translation Author:

How obtained:

Translator: Aun Laokhe

Translator Speech:

Translated Name: Kixkti Xri's Journal

Translated Description:

Translated Author: Translator, Aun Laokhe

Pages: 21

Translated Text:

"Behold! Gates long closed, opened by blood. Behold! I have brought you to sanctity. In your new freedom you shall see beyond the coil that is one world. Yea, you shall see the spinning world for its infirmity and touch the fruit of other worlds, where the Masters have yet to fall into war. Behold! I bring salvation through our blood, and of our blood I shall bring the cleansing to the worlds where -we- are Gods. Sisters, behold!"

With this she opens wide her arms and carves the symbol of ether into her left forearm the symbol of life etched into the upper half, then with swift and gentle motions the blade spins to her left hand and she carves, the softest flesh from her body and feeds a consort, bound upon the offering place. His lips go crimson as life flows into his throat to slake a thirst, not his own desire but hers, growing within

his stomach; the blade traces the mark of foretelling across the flesh of her right forearm, and then the mark of distance upon the upper arm. Blood flows and fills the cups, the twelve close and take their place as she hoists the blade of Writhing Fury. The blade is then drawn to his midsection, once there a tremor causes his lips to quiver and his voice to tremble, she sings the perfect note and the Eyes open.

The blade slips cleanly into his middle, severs the organ that lets all scream and breathe, draws sinew and bone apart exposing a heart still beating. His eyes shudder and he speaks, but his voice is drowned by the chorale of the twelve singers. The Eyes draw near and sup on his flesh, his blood, all that he was until nothing of what was him remains.

Then the way is opened and twelve sisters, lead by she who is highest amongst them, walk to new worlds to bring the love of the Eyes. To bring back sustenance in this time of wicked cold and chase ignorance from their surfaces. So has this been. So shall I one day walk to worlds aside from this. Dark haze spun for three days, spilling no sign

of our beloved Mother or the twelve sisters who walked with her through the tunnel of murk and lightning. For we, the sisters who remained ever vigil, the matter was rife with loss. Eight in all had been given to the sleepers, eight in all had been consumed to keep the gate open, eight had lost their consorts for the greater good.

A thundercrack split the air, swirls of violet split through the grey dusk of the tunnel and the churn of the device ceased. Through the tunnel she came, ebony eyes aware and seeking, behind her the twelve and six forms that came on scaled bellies, slithering and swaying. Scrawny arms ended in claws like the kukri, hot breath and the smell of bile permeated the air, eyes set deep into flesh-hooded skulls twitched nervously,

tongues, thin and forked, darted from between a thin crack of a mouth. No weapons, bore the captives, no signs of war or hate, on scaled bellies they crawled to us, bowed their flesh-hooded heads and there, prostrate before us, begged in language foreign and vile to serve the will of the Gods. Ixir Zi! Be praised by the Sleepers, let our voices raise as one to praise your name.

"A price of blood shall be paid for the glory of the First! We, greatest amongst the vigilant, host of the highest, servants to none and masters of the Nuanni*; (* This is the Tonk name for the spirits of the ones who came before. Lord Asheron has called them Gromnatross.) shall see the tide of victory turned against the denizens of the deep dark. Our ranks shall grow, filled with the ranks of impotent

consorts who give of themselves, to join with the Fiazhat, serpents of the Sleepers. Spill blood for your race, that it may survive, flay flesh for your sister-mother that she may nurture. Cull the weakest of your herd, sisters. The sterile male holds no more use, so he shall be carved, ensorcelled and given life eternal, servants ever more to our race."

The proclamation made, she turned within and drew with her the hope of our kind. Twelve sisters and she had found their way across the sea of heavens; there, upon a world of bile, mire and swale they had found a deliverance. The infirmed and decrepit males, incapable of husbandry, would give their lives to be amongst us for all time.

The kukri moved quickly beneath the scales, The sacrifice lived still. Its words had been deciphered some time prior, and now as it lay flesh opened to musculature, scales peeled away from flesh in delicate rows, eyes darting wildly, it begged and pleaded to know why. Why had the Gods seen fit to punish? What transgression had it brought into their Palace to cause it such suffering?