There is power in this world. I know not where it originates from, but it is here now... And I wish to the gods it was not. When I gently caressed the edge of this power, ten thousand soldiers became ash around me.
I am cursed by knowldege. That this exists in our world, in the reach of man... is beyond terrifying. I have seen what man will do with a sword, and even I cannot imagine what he would do with... this.
Gently brushing against this has rendered me something that even death fears... I know this to be true. I know this because I do not wish to live in a world where I am responsible for my actions... but I have yet to be able to escape it. I am beyond the touch of death, for my footsteps are those of Massacre. Or... worse.
If I could share my tale, warn the world, perhaps that would lessen my burden. But those with whom I tried to share, I could not even bury. Their ash was carried off by the wind before Icould catch it.
Come, death... please. I open my arms to you. Take me away from my mistakes.
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