Chapter 2 Entry 1
For the first few weeks after leaving lemming cove, I wandered more or less aimlessly. It was during this time that I reflected on the significance of my so called escape. My kind has always took what they wanted, with little or no care of consequence. I guess arrogance comes with total immortality and absolute power. Mother, GAIA, always gave me whatever I... whatever we wanted. That... That was to be our downfall. When one can do almost anything, you begin to focus on the almost. There were nine voices in our choir. Nine different visions of what reality should be. This was not our most shining moment, for our whims were still being created. We, my kin and I, are responsible for JEALOUSY, GREED, ENVY, HATE, RAGE, and Ultimately DEATH. GAIA constructed all of these, even the ones that enslaved their masters. From these new additions to our reality, it was only natural that we turn to our darker halves. Nine Edens warred with each other. Nine paradises were lost. Our grandsire was most pleased. Ultimately, one of us wished the other to simply cease to exist. Was that me? I don't know if I was the victim or the executioner that day. What I do know, is that our mother, GAIA, screamed and banished us from her sight.
I am still an immortal, but I am dead to her. The lemmings were my prison, and even now they follow... they hunt... to torment me. I asked for help from a lemming, and now I must face the consequences of that help. At least, for the moment, I am free, but where am I? This is not my vision of reality, nor does it seem like one of my kin's. Have they escaped and changed it? Have the wars begun anew? Does GAIA now listen? I guess time will tell.
Entry 2
My journey accross this strange "new" world brought me upon an ancient ruin. The pile of disorderd stones could once have been anything, from a mill, to a shrine, to a pile of rocks, to the remains of a lemming parade march. The image of a marching collumn of lemming finest enters my mind. They are here for "Dead Fred Day". The collumn boldly marches on, as the cheering crowds try to recreate the stoning. I'm sure some actual rocks are involved, but more than likely the crowd uses imitation rocks. Things like bushy trailed squirrels, slow moving toads, and small cattle. I imagine it is very hard to stone a lemming with a wide eyed cow named Betsy. Of course, stoning the crowd with yourself is allowed, so long as Betsy's hoof isn't a Butch's hoof. I mean you do have to have some standards.
Ok, I admit it, I miss seeing the lemmings everyday. For a very long time the little terrors were ever there. Now, I can only wonder if they have even noticed my absence. I suspect that they aren't far, but have yet to see them. We'll see what lies over the next hill.
Entry 3
Some things never change.
As I crested the edge of the hill, I surveyed a macabre scene below. Two armies were locked in battle. More appropriately, two armies were frozen in battle. I walked amongst the frozen statues who were clearly involved in a life and death struggle. Whether this was for king and country, some higher calling, or simply for GREED, I could not tell. What I could tell, was that I was not to interfere. That I was incapable of interfering. Again, the smile of the toothless lemming sprung to my thoughts. That mischievious knowing smirk burned at the edges of my mind. Yet, although this was clearly GAIA's work, this punishment came after our... banishment. Again I wondered if one or more of my brethrin had found their way back into GAIA's good graces. Somehow, I doubted this. There were other factors at work here.
Entry 4
During the first foolish war, GAIA gave our thoughts substance. All of our thoughts... With the creation of WAR, HATE, DEATH, sprung new possibilities, and, in time, new entities. These beings were enpowered, just as we were, but in very particular ways. They were our swords, our tools, and we used them against each other. One can only wonder what such tools would do, when their masters were no longer able to direct them. We had made them self sufficient. In time, I am sure that some of them had become self aware. The Elder Gods of legend. GAIA's grandchildren.
Entry 5
As I stood amongst the forest of frozen warriors, my mind flashed to an earlier scene. It was the time that I had observed a group of lemmings fighting over dining etiquette. There were several lemmings around a cracked table with but three legs. The lemmings were arguing over: three cups, four spoons, one good plate, one cracked plate, a butter knife with no edge, twelve forks with bent ends, and a tea pot with no top. All of this was utterly pointless of course, because lemmings don't eat, much less have tea parties, but they were convinced that they wouldn't get served unless the table was properly set. As a result, each lemming was trying to properly set the table, starting with their seat first. A worthless and impossible exercise given the utensiles available, but try and explain that to a fanatic lemming zealot intent on giving everyone a spoon... Or try to explain why to an elder god... I think I understand now. Once I was...the dragons were... banished, their tools, the elder gods, believed that the edens sustained them. Maintaining them was their link to us and thus to their existence. They were tools of destruction, but they feared their own. This is totally flawed of course, but these creatures weren't much smarter than lemmings, which probably explains why it took so long for some of them to gain sentience. In anycase, the lemmings around the table ended up breaking what was left of my good china, and if I remember correctly, the whole table shuffle exercise continued until another group of lemming scholars came over, gave them bottomless buckets, told them to wash up, and pushed them... and my dishes... into nearby bottomless wells. Ahhhh. Lemming logic at its finest. I think I actually smiled that day, but it did cost me my one good plate.
Entry 6
While the lemmings were building the great wall from Mt. Stupidity, our so called tools were trying to appease my grandsire. They used their existence to rebuild the abandoned worlds around them. They believed that power was linked to structure in all its forms. Their Power... Their very Existence... required it. They required it...
However, they had other underlying needs as well. They were the weapons of the first war. They had been created to raise one concept, one dragon, above all else. They still had that purpose.
I'm speculating here, but I suspect that each of the Edens were locked away from the others by GAIA. All of them but one, the fallen one. He was the cause of our banishment, and the nexus through which we were all joined. It was there that our tools still warred. It was there that they sought to spread the structure of their creator, but they couldn't do it directly. They couldn't leave their eden, so they created their own tools, avatars, to influence, to complete their task. Avatars whose existence relied on structure. That is what they believed.
This is that place. That eden shaped by the ravages of nine different pantheons of lemming like intellect.
Ironically, in death, our brother had brought our thoughts together to forge a common world. A world, far from any eden, brutal, savage, like our nature, and yet, still close to GAIA's heart. That is the ultimate prize no doubt, to regain contact with our mother, to gain her forgiveness. Its why I am here.
Entry 7
The revelations of my past, present, and perhaps future were strong in this place, and I remained in the garden of warriors until a distinct layer of dust had covered them all. Of course, it may have been longer, for several young saplings had begun their rise admist the feet of the combatants. Time was never my strong suit. I can only wonder if, when I left, and the battle resumed, they would notice the change in their surroundings, or if the heat of battle would block it from their awareness. I imagine any homecoming will be quite a surprise...
Home... The mere thought of it reminds me of a concept that has little meaning to one such as I. I journey onward, hoping to find some hint of what I must do to seek redemption.
Entry 8
I had almost forgotten what another voice sounds like. For too long, I had only heard my own. This new, welcome, mostly welcome, sound came to me from somewhere over the horizon. There were no words that I could distinguish, but words never-the-less. They called to me, as surely as a camp fire calls to the moths. For several days, I walked in the direction of that elusive sound wondering if the source would doom me or end my lonely quest. It came as somewhat of a surprise when I discovered that the source was not a person, but a thing. In the center of a bustling village, now frozen by my presence, a stone tower softly sang with a voice that should not exist. It was the echo of something now gone. Why? Who? How? The stillness of the village haunted me, as I contemplated living up to the stereotype of dragonhood. It was then, that I noticed the young man watching me. It was then that he asked what was wrong?
