YC109.08.27 // Messenger

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Mrs. Uomari,

As you very well know, your husband was one of the many casualties aboard the Leviathan-class Titan ‘Emra’ that was under the command of the Caldari Navy. I recovered your husband and used some of my personal funds to have his body restored and a casket prepared for burial. Please accept my condolences for your loss.

Sincerely,
A. Gwanwyn

[date/YC109/08/27.end_log]

YC113.10.27 // Little Eram Dor

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In the small town of Agah Ageth, there was a particular girl among all the many children named Little Eram Dor, who loved to play in the fields and sing all day. She was loud and raucous and perturbed all the people in her village. She would sing and scream, night and day, and never once made a friend. Her father would try to shush her, but she would shout, “I just want to play!” When in church he would reprimand her, for she was always humming and talking to herself. She would sing too loud and talk too much. And so everybody in the town despised Little Eram Dor.

Then one day, a new church was raised in Agah Ageth, and they held services late into the night. Little Eram Dor could hear them singing; they shouted and hollered and played on their drums, dancing around great fires in there field. So she snuck out into the night to watch them, far from her home and on the edge of town. She crept up to the brim of the firelight, and watched them spin and sing around the flames.

Little Eram Dor returned to her home, just as the sun rose, and hid her venture from her father.

Night after night, she would go back, creeping closer and closer toward the light. The people always seemed so happy and full, and danced and danced until the morning came. Little Eram Dor never slept, for she always stayed out too late to sleep. Soon, her father began to notice her tired ways; she no longer sang or shouted or jumped, and was thin and small. She only sat silently, thinking of when she could go back to the bonfire to watch the other people. She was so weary, she never noticed the how the children were less and less as time went by.

Then one night, as Little Eram Dor crept from her house and came upon the place of worship, she saw no one was there. She walked up to the edge of the roaring fire, and soon as she did, the people leapt from the field and began to sing,”We are hungry, so feed us bones! We are hungry, so fill us full!”

They spun and cheered, and Little Eram Dor was swept up in the haze. She sang and jumped and danced through the night, as the people threw her meat and joined her in her hungry feast. Night after night, Little Eram Dor returned to dance with the people and enjoy the delicious food they had.

She became fat and full, and her father noticed her mysterious change. He told her not to go out at all, but Little Eram Dor, being clever and having hidden her ventures from her father, kindly replied, “Father, I would never disobey you!” But that night, Little Eram Dor crept out again.

When she came upon the fire, the people were not dancing. She yelled at them, “I want to dance! I want to sing!” So they gathered around her and began their chanting, and Little Eram Dor was in quite a delight. She shouted and sang, and they lifted her up. They bound her hands and tied her feet, but still Little Eram Dor was singing. They built the fire big, and threw her over and around the flames. Still she did not cease her singing. The people shouted, “We are hungry, so feed us bones! We are hungry, so fill us full!” They tossed Little Eram Dor onto the fire, and still she kept on singing.

The next morning, the church was gone, and her father and the town came to find her. All that remained was her head, the little skull of Eram Dor, her mouth wide open, now silently singing.

[date/YC113/10/27.end_log]

YC113.10.24 // The Frontier

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“Where do eggers come from, dad?” asked the little boy into the camera, static interfering with the audio and video.

“They come from the Empires, son.” replied the worn voice of his father. The video skipped, and I adjusted the playback settings. It continued.

“Mom says they’re bad, that they just ruin everything.”

“She’s right, son. Capsuleers don’t have any allegiance to the Empires, only to themselves. They don’t even trust each other, really.”

The video stopped again. I looked up as a corpse drifted in front of me, across the exposed and gaping hole in the structure. Asteroids spun and glinted in the distance as the sun rose over the nearby gas giant.

“Why don’t the empires just get rid of them, dad?”

“Capsuleers are powerful, son. You can’t just – ” sirens could be heard going off in the background of the video. The boys face went from curiosity to worry. A warning code came over the intercom system. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I have to go. There’s ‘rats inbound. Send my love to your mother.” The video stuck again.

I looked down at the screen. The boy’s face was frozen in distress. I looked back toward the sun.

“What do you think, sir?” asked Lieutenant Merromeau.

I tossed the data pad out into space, and watched it float of toward the asteroids. “I think we’d better leave before Nation comes back; there’s still plenty of corpses left, and you know how fickle he is with left overs, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, sir. Bringing the shuttle around, then.”

I scoured the deepness, trying to see something that wasn’t there. I knew Kuvakei was looking back, though – he was always watching us.

[date/YC113/8/27.end_log]

YC113.08.27 // The Halls of Erebo

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A cool breeze wandered over the park, the grass swaying lazily under its influence. Insects began chirping as night fell on the station, the sun setting behind the horizon of the moon. The stars slowly shimmered into existence in the night sky.

Down at the bottom of the hill, crowds mingled and laughed around booths and stages. In the center, a well lit theater’s lights flashed slowly, signaling the start of the main show for the night. People took their seats and a hush fell over the crowd as a speaker took the stage, illuminated by a single light.

“Ladies and gentlemen, hello and welcome to the second night of the annual ViĆ© du Gallente Celebration!”

People clapped and whistled, and the speaker smiled and nodded.

“Tonight, we continue where we left off in our tale of the Trials of Mithathrotes, that ancient legend of the birth of our people. The Fallen Prince Mithathrotes has passed on to the Enduring Heavens, after being cast out and defeated in battle by his treacherous brother Alakalios, who has also imprisoned their fair sister Agatheria in the depths of the Citadel. Alakalios is now beyond the power of any mortal man or empire; his strength is final, his grip on the kingdom absolute.”

“Tonight, we will witness the fateful decisions that our Fallen Prince must make, and we will see how far he is willing to go so that justice may be done.”

The beam fades away as the speaker steps off, and the stage is pitch black for a few moments. In the darkness, a few small lights blink softly, mimicking the night sky. Mithathrotes wanders into the nightscape.

“I could travel these heavens for eternity, and still not arrive at the same place twice.” he says. “What purpose does this land serve but to fool a poor soul!”

Mithathrotes lifted his head and gazed toward the stars above him. “O! Enduring Heavens, grant me a boon! My legs are weary from my endless travels, and my eyes tired from your vastness! Grant me a boon, I cry!”

A flash of light, and there stood a beautiful woman clad in the finest linen dress, shining bright and fully.

“Come with me, Mithatrotes, and rest your feet and close your heavy eyes. I, Athero, will take you to the world above, where many souls are looking down upon you, full of pity. Come with me, Mithathrotes, and you shall reside with them.”

Mithathrotes became angered. “Why would I desire to rest my broken heart and soul in a place where the people think so little of me? I would not rest for a moment in such a shallow place.”

At this, a second being sprang forth from the darkness, a man of all black. “Come with me, my Fallen Prince, and I, Erebo, shall take you below to my Great Hall. Come with me, to where the denizens of my house look up to you.” The Black Man laid a hand upon the shoulder of Mithathrotes.

“I shall go with you, Erebo, for I am weary and your house desires my company; be gone with you and your sordid ways, Athero!” demanded Mithathrotes.

“You are a foolish lord, Mithathrotes. You know not what you want nor what dangers lie before you.” And with that, Athero vanished, her great light taken with her, and Erebo took Mithathrotes to his Great Hall.

The stage went dark once again, and after a few moments, low lights came on, and the sound of many people crying and wailing faintly filled my ears. The actors took the stage once more.

“Welcome to my Great Hall, my Fallen King. My people and I welcome you with open arms!” said Erebo, bowing lowly, his arms spread wide. “Sit at my table, and feast!”

A great onyx table rose from the black floor, and food of all varieties grew upon it. Mithathrotes sat and rested, regaining his strength. Erebo spoke.

“I know of your troubles and heavy weights, Mithathrotes. I know of the treachery committed by your own kin upon you.” Mithathrotes listened, gazing at him. “A grave injustice indeed.”

Mithathrotes nodded in agreement, consumed by the lavish meal before him.

“Let us right what has been wronged; let us set straight the course of balance.” said Erebo. “I will give you the power to take back from your brother what is rightfully yours – the throne, your people, the kingdom. In exchange, I ask for a measly penance.”

“What do you require, wise Erebo? Tell me, for I am curious.” asked Mithathrotes.

“All I require is a royal soul. Perhaps your brother’s, should it be a desirable exchange to you, O Fallen King.” Erebo bowed again. “A royal soul for all the world.”

“I cannot deny you; we must set right what has been wronged, mustn’t we? If the price for absolute power should be one’s soul, then let the grievances be great when it is lost.”

Mithathrotes clapped the arm of Erebo, and the world fell dark once more.

[date/YC113/08/27.end_log]

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