Mnemosynis/RWPartTwo

Months passed as I made my way south through the hundred kingdoms. I stole what I needed to survive as tried to avoid notice whenever I passed through cities. I avoided the smaller villages during the day. I know what kind of gossip goes on in those places. Everybody hears about anyone new in town. That's not what I wanted. I didn't need any more stones thrown at me.

I've marveled at my cursed condition many times now. I walk for days and my feet are not sore. When I steal bread, I am never caught. I've found that if I focus and remain still I cannot even see myself. Sometimes I feel like I could have a chance to change the world, that I could set things right. That never again will simple people have to live in fear of bullying gods. I myself stood up to the gods, and though I was cursed for it my village will remain safe and plentiful from the harvest god evermore. I could travel the world and right such wrongs. What will they do, curse me again?

I need to find some way to combat what I have become. Perhaps justice will redeem me. Perhaps then I can sleep at night. Night, when the nightmares come. The terrible, terrible dreams of some other time. Of the butcher of cities. Sometimes I have the dreams during the day. I don't know what they mean. They all seem so focused on this being, this Gale of Blades, and the terrible things that came from him. Maybe it is what I am to become. I should hope to find death for myself before I am so far gone as that mad creature. I haven't had a good night of rest since that day.

I came to a great river two months ago and have been following it westward. I came to a port city last week. Marita. The people here tell me this is called the Yellow River, and farther along are the cities of Great Forks, Nexus, and even Lookshy, and beyond the sea lies the great Realm of the legendary Dragon-Blooded. They seem so casual about these things, especially the sailors. I suppose it's something to have actually been there rather than just heard about. Or to be someone who's been to many exotic places and not just the next village over in a tiny kingdom. I've found some work at the docks as a worker moving cargo. I'm careful not to lift with my full strength so as to not draw attention to myself. People still marvel at how much I can carry.

Yesterday night I went down to one of the warehouses and tested myself. I lifted one of the big crates. One that normally takes eight men to move. It was heavy, but I knew I could do more. I stacked another on top of it. Still heavy, but there was still more I could do. Six crates of grain I lifted. The strength of nearly 50 men. I burned when I lifted it. Burned through something inside me. The brand on my forehead erupted in golden light. I heard people outside coming in to investigate. I put the crates down, covered the brand with my hands and hid. They stood there, agape at the sight of the stack I had created. They had no idea how they were going to get them down again. The work of demons, they said. If they only knew. And yet I still thought I could lift more.

I need to be careful not to burn through myself like that again. But first, I need to know more about what I've become, and I need to learn it from someone other than a monk. In fact I should make a point of avoiding any monks I see lest they immediately recognize me for what I am.

I've heard the sailors talking in the few days I've been here. They talk about a city of endless opportunity. Some lament the loss of fortune they managed to built up there. The city of Nexus. Perhaps there I could learn more. They say there it's bigger than the kingdom I'm from. I should like to see that. Certainly such a sight would be a thing to remember.

With my current pay I wouldn't be able to afford passage myself. Walking was fine with me. A week or so more and I'll set out, following the river.