(Related Story: Chronicle Zero – Achymiarel)

I awaken. The world around me is strange and unfamiliar. Where has this great power taken me? I ask myself. Achymiarel is still in my possession. There is no trace of where Ouros went or what happened to the guardians. Perhaps they were also transported here. There is no clear evidence, nothing to guide me. Standing up, I gaze upon the lands that I now inhabit. A piece of one of the large marble doors had crashed into the ground on a nearby hill. Upon moving closer to inspect it, I saw how its form shifted and warped. It was as if it lay in a state of flux. This thing didn’t belong here, but by extension neither did I. Something protected me. Could the wand have spared me? No way to be sure, but certainly my arrival here had some meaning.

A short walk to the top of the hill revealed two armies down in the valley. It looked like a standoff. Huddled down near some rocks, I looked on. The tension of such a conflict can be felt all around. After a few short minutes the armies commanded their advance. The clash let out a resounding echo of screams and metal clangs. I had not experienced such carnage in many years. Not since the war of the settlements. That old conflict eventually led to the splitting of the clans and a more lasting peace. We learned how that loss of life was irreplaceable. No kings or queens would ever drive us to such lengths. Sadly, some leaders found another way to drive us away. Ouros would pay for forsaking my people.

The wand responds to my anger. Such memories are difficult to repress. While the slaughter continues in the fields I rise from among the rocks that concealed my position. I lift Achymiarel high above my head and a bolt of lightning splits the clouded sky. Blinded by the old rage and the sacrifice of countless soldiers to some unknown cause, I decide to teach them a lesson. Yes, life is sacred, but without the threat of something far greater these people will never learn its value. A powerful thunderbolt skims across the ground sundering it and tearing apart everything that it encounters. It eventually reaches the commanders of these armies and shreds them. Their armor falling to the ground, bloodied and burnt. Not even their mounts were spared. The few soldiers that remained escaped back to their own territories. Achymiarel gave me the power to be both judge and executioner.

What have I done? What have I become? I question repeatedly as a sea of blood flows down through the valley and into a river. Thousands upon thousands of corpses lying dead. A testament of the fearsome power of this wand. This was more of a lesson to myself than to all those poor souls. For a moment I was walking through the field. Many still alive suffered from their wounds, either from sword or ax, or from the vicious thunder that split them apart. I looked back to the hill and suddenly I was on it again. The soldiers were clashing, fighting for whatever their cause was. I had seen a vision. Achymiarel showed me my rage unleashed upon unknown forces. They are innocent of the matters that affect me, but I had the power to destroy them utterly. This artifact works as if it had a will of its own. With time I would come to better understand it. For now, a new dark abyss forms beneath me. This time, it does not swallow the world around me, instead it drags me down into a slumber. A repetition of what happened at Chymus. Maybe this time I will find Ouros.