The great chronicles

I write this post to the sound of spears being thrown, swords being struck, and screams of pain. We have managed to completely barricade and reinforce the walls with the door with meta-magic. I want to scream in fear and terror right now, but I have a duty to write about what is happening. Just in case my demise is near.... My name is , and I am one of the foremost Ancient Chroniclers. My main task is to guard the books (Which my apprentice Mosha-Nu helps me with), and to record all historical events in Nonexistence. Right now, I am writing these chronicles on an old floor with an almost extinguished candle, while next to me are warriors groaning in pain, whose shells have already begun to rot and stink. But I need to write about it...

More than 4 Sunsets(We measure time by the change in the luminosity of light from beneath the clouds) ago. I've quietly watched Meta-Galaxies floating in the fairy tale. However, at the same moment, Mosh-Nu came running to me. His Aura radiated great fear, and I had never seen him so excited.

- Oh, my Master! There has been a real horror in the capital! - My favorite student's voice pierced the air around us, and at the same moment the smell of burning came from the capital.

- Not a word, we must hurry. - I realized what had happened. More than thirty sunsets ago, I met a young boy, Shat'Alir-La'ahad. The young god impressed me with his diction, his youthful romanticism, and his willingness to go against the established laws of Astator. I met this boy during my walk in the garden. In his aura burned a revolutionary fire that could burst out at any moment. He told me everything (I was a rather trustworthy person and never told anyone anything without asking): What he thought of our life, what he thought of Astator and his tyranny. And at the end of our conversation(He was a very talented boy, so I could talk to him as an equal), he promised me that I would hear from him in thirty sunsets, and that promise was pure truth.

Getting on our horses, we rode straight to the capital. I had prepared medicines, food, water and other things in advance, and it was not in vain: The whole capital was swarming with corpses, as well as the severely wounded population.

- Mosha-nu, take care of the wounded. Ask the soldiers for help - they know you as my apprentice, so they won't touch you.

Mosha-nu only nodded silently yet confidently, and began to rescue the dying. Meanwhile, I hurried to the very center of the city, from where I heard a very familiar voice. When I reached my destination (I was almost injured four times on the way), I saw my dear boy Shat'Alir standing on the stone base where Astator's stone monument once stood. He stood confidently on it, making speeches of change, ignoring the barrage of shells and explosions that were just around the corner.

- Notice! Next to me, thousands of civilians, thousands of families, thousands of people with dreams and hopes. And among them there is no one, NO ONE, whose relative was not killed by Astator for no reason! Remember the King's Tea Party, remember the Kalta Massacre, or better yet, remember the Honeymoon Night! How many innocent people fell then!? And how many of them were women, little children and old people!?!? No one wants him in this world! No one wants to accept the fact that he exists! So you must stand up to him! We have very few weapons, we have almost no food or shells, we have no good clothes, we have no shoes, so our soldiers leave bloody footprints! But we have what the Loyalists don't have - ideas and faith in a just cause! Because the Loyalists are mercenaries, bribed bandits, feudal lords and aristocrats who feasted with Astator, sitting right on top of dying people! Because we've already defeated them in over 12 kingdoms/cities. They will die in shame, they will die as our brothers, our sisters, our sons, daughters, fathers and mothers died!

Shat'Alir's speech stunned me, and more than 5,000 others who stood beside him. At the same moment, the entire crowd raised their hands and began picking up all manner of objects: Rocks, shovels, nearly broken weapons, and the like, marching faithfully and incredibly confidently into the epicenter of the battle. But I didn't have time for that... I had to help Mosh-Nu with his medical care. It was a good thing that by the time I arrived, Mosh-Nu had already managed to get all the living and wounded into a more or less intact building. I've never worked so hard on medical aid before. Literally every second counted, as some people's wounds demanded speed. Fortunately, my medical skills did not fail, and together with Mosha-Nu I was able to treat everyone in the ruins of the house. The only thing we could do was to wait for the end. My old but naive mind thought that it would be over in about the end of the sunsest. How wrong I was then...

## Blockade

Unfortunately for all of us, this blockade lasted a full 20 sunsets. I don't know how, but Astator's mercenaries were able to build up a large force and defeat the people's militias. I saw it with my own eyes: I saw almost all those thousands of people who were determined to fight, but no longer behind the barricades, but trampled into the ground. It was the most horrible thing for me: The people whose hopes were higher than tyrannical statutes were the first to die, humiliated by the Loyalists and merged with the land that had taken them as its own children. That's how we spent sunset after sunset. Every damn day, we saw more and more faces in absolute silence and indifference. Why should a dead man worry about war and freedom when he's already free? We're lucky we don't need food, water, and sleep, but... Even the divine mind can be shaken. Already after the fifth sunset, one of our hearth dwellers went insane from the constant sounds of explosions, the destruction of buildings, and the sight of dead bodies that continuously stared back at us. His mind went so bad that he nearly hacked several people to death with his battle axe.

- I hate this place! I hate hearing these sounds every day! I've had enough!

Swinging his battle axe at the old man, hysterical laughter ran through his mouth. There was a hollow space between the axe blade and the old man's face, but at the last moment I fired my meta-magic stream directly at the attacker, making him literally vaporize. I didn't want to do it, but I had to do it. To this day, I have nightmares about seeing him and his family looking at me miserably and crying. O broken warrior, if you can somehow hear me - forgive me for the horrible thing I did. ᚺᛊ bless your soul.*(I FORGIVE YOU)*

## After blockade

No one expected this from me. Almost the entire Omega Void knew that my powers and abilities were quite strong, but no one had ever seen me use them against an opponent. And besides, the Code of Chronicles forbade the use of meta-magic against living beings. However, what we all realize here is that it was a necessity. If I hadn't gotten hurt, someone else could have died. Fortunately, however, the entire Chronicler's staff forgave and even praised my act of saving innocent people. But in spite of that, we still all together wrote all the information about the broken madman in some books (Thus, we save the subject, and it does not die, but turns into information). Anyway, I have to continue with the main narrative. The rest of the sunsets went more or less stable, but most almost went insane and experienced the same consideration as that warrior. However, what we ourselves didn't notice was that every day the sounds of war faded in and out, as if receding.... Finally, after 19 sunset, we noticed that there was absolute silence. Carefully leaving the shelter, I realized this: Astator's mercenary forces had begun to retreat, and the war zone had shifted outside the city. There was no limit to our happiness - We had survived this! However, my happiness was abruptly replaced by the realization that this was only a temporary measure. The Astator's forces were many times stronger than the Militia, and I realized that they could bring the fighting back to the city. For that reason, I needed to talk some sense into everyone else.

- Listen up! We can't rejoice yet! Astator's warriors could come back again! Quickly grab your things and we must hurry to the Great Library! At least there are supplies to stay there! Come on! And you, Mosha-Nu, take one of them and find some horses and wagons.

Mosha-Nu took 7 more volunteers and scattered them all over the city. By then, we were all packed up and waiting for Mosh-Nu and the other guys. After a short time, they managed to find some horses and wagons. Everyone started climbing into them like savages, pushing each other. After that, however, there was another problem that came out of Mosh-Nu's mouth at the most unexpected moment.

- Oh my Lord! Master! We don't have enough room!

Oh no... What should we do?

- How many seats are there exactly? - I asked, puzzled, expecting to hear some deplorable statistics in my already tired brain.

- Twenty more people were short on seats. We can take 7 children on horseback, but what about the other 13? We're all exhausted and weakened here, they're unlikely to have the strength to walk for several eternities to the library... What we gonna do, master?

The situation is hopeless... Why is all the burden of the people on me? I love each of the residents, but why should I be responsible for their troubles? According to the Chroniclers' code, I should have been kicked out of the Library long ago, and I'm there only because of my status, which I don't need...

## To the library

Well, there are no seats left, and there is no other way out... We'll have to walk. I can hardly imagine how we got to the library at all, but fortunately we did. However, I did not tell what we encountered during such a "hike". This is what will be talked.

- All right. Move out to the library. Mosha-Well, use meta-magic for protection. And we'll go on foot, wait for us.

- W-what?.. Master, they can die because they are already mentally exhausted! Maybe... M-maybe there is another-..

- I s a i d: m o v e . o u t . t o . t h e . l i b r a r y. N O W.

- .... Okay. But please make sure that these travelers come alive.. - Mosha-Nu's voice radiated desperation, which I understood perfectly. One day changed our lives so much... Unlike Fairy Tales, our events are not subject to either Narratives or plot... There is only chance and history..

- This is my sacred duty, Mosha.. And now - take people to a safe place. I can hear the sounds of battle coming here.

Mosha gathered his thoughts and gave a clear order to start the trip. At one moment, they seemed to evaporate in a second, so fast were these horses, even despite the wagons and people on them. In our turn, we went on foot (I knew the way, so we could not get lost). This "walk" lasted for two long sunsets, but compared to that blockade, it's still nothing. Almost all of them were barefoot, which caused their feet to rub and bleed. Those who had at least some shoes - gave barefoot one of the shoes. Those who did not get such luxury - they tore off pieces of fabric from their clothes, making something like socks out of them. But because of the terrible quality of the silk, it helped very little. However, we were still able to reach the library. Even though their legs had already begun to turn blue and fester, they quickly ran to the entrance to the library, began knocking with might and main and shouted joyfully that they had come. I, in turn, walked slowly, watching the military operations from afar. I also saw the "Supreme Idol" with his supporters who fought against the Loyalists. However, I also saw a figure in golden armor and on a golden horse. As I learned later, it was Cyrus, the leader of the rebel army, and the most basic military figure of the revolution (The agitation and political part of the revolution lay on the Shat'alir-La'ahad).

However, I didn't look at all the events for long: I had to go, so I turned around and walked towards the library. Going inside, all the chroniclers greeted me with joy, as if I had won the war (Which was partly true). However, we had to solve the question of what to do with the rest of the population, whose temporary home would be this very library. As a temporary solution, we decided to COMPLETELY isolate ourselves from the external environment by creating a meta-magical dome consisting of 23 layers of metamagy and 2 layers of aura. We have been here for more than a month, and we can still hear the sounds of battles even behind several layers of the dome. Only sometimes the screams and the whistling of metal subsides, and we can rest without auditory interfering factors. How much longer are we going to be here? I don't know...

## Why?..

That month/30 sunsets was very hard for us. Many went mad, many died of exhaustion (Even if we do not need water, food and sleep, but the psyche of the majority will not be able to withstand such a load). The rest from the blockade was short-lived - only half a sunset, which is why our mind simply did not have time to recover. It got even worse after the corpses started to stink. Yes, that's right, we didn't throw them out on the street (Not only because we simply couldn't, but also because the corpse poison could poison the soil). During the first blockade, at least we had the opportunity to see what was happening outside, but there are simply no windows or even ventilation in the library. Because of the constant moaning, whining and the smell of corpses combined with the smell of vomit, I could not concentrate on reading or writing the chronicle (the same applied to the rest of the Ancient Chroniclers).  I was hoping that I could still save their lives, but.. The next day ruined all my efforts and care for those people..

During the extremely concentrated reading, I heard some strange screams that came from the main library. No, it wasn't another scream of agony, it was.. Riot.

Everyone who was inside the library(And even some Chroniclers) decided to destroy all meta-magical protection and get out. They would never have done this if they had not had some chroniclers on their side... This news was reported to me by one of those chroniclers together with Mosha-Nu. Running out of my room, I rushed to the main library trying to stop, but it was too late... The dome was destroyed, and the whole group of rebels ran straight out of the library, rushing in an unknown direction. However, their "Freedom" did not last long.. After a few minutes, several magic shots and copper spears will be launched at them, turning them into a charred mass of flesh. I was seized with a terrible panic and remorse. All my work was in vain, and innocent souls died in agony.. I ran up to the burned and dissected bodies, unconsciously falling to my knees.. They all had their own history, their own emotions, feelings, hopes and dreams, their own love and friendship. And all these aspects were destroyed with just one shot. I failed. I'm terrible. Why the hell was I trying to read if I understood the emotional state of people? I would burn in hell if he existed.

I abruptly heard a shot behind me, also seeing a glow behind me. Realizing that a magic projectile was flying at me, I turned around abruptly and saw a whole squad of mercenaries (It looks like they were formed specifically to finish off all the inhabitants of the library). Without hesitation, I fired a more powerful metamagic shot in response, which turned the whole squad into exactly the same mass of flesh that they turned those innocent people into. However, the strange thing for me was that there were no Astator mercenaries in the city, and the entire city was patrolled by the people's militia. As it turned out, the Astator's troops in this city were defeated, and the detachment that I destroyed was the last partisan hotbed of Loyalists in this territory. They planned to seize the library and all the inhabitants there in order to negotiate with the people's militia and get an opportunity to escape (This squad was searched all over the city), and at the same time get extra money with jewelry. After realizing this moment, I felt even more pathetic. I was able to lose hundreds of people even after the end of the battle, giving their lives to a pathetic guerrilla terrorist squad of 15 people. My moments of depression and despair were interrupted by Mosha-Nu, Semirion, who sat down next to me.

- Master... - Mosha spoke without waiting for an answer

I just kept silent.

- Master, it's not your fault.. You weren't there at that moment, you couldn't-...

- If it's not my fault, then whose fault is it? I brought them to this place, I didn't keep track of them.. I literally gave several hundred people to the gang..

- But... You were so far away from the scene of the accident.. You wouldn't have physically had time to stop them. -

- And why did I, why do you think I didn't have time? Maybe because I was trying to read while people were going crazy? Mosha, don't justify me, please... I have to deal with it myself, and accept it. That's the way..

- That's the way..   - Humbly and passively agreeing, Mosha said sadly-well, realizing that I could not listen to anyone at that moment. Thank him so much for his concern, but I have to deal with it myself and take responsibility for what happened.

- Hah, my father was among that squad..

Mosha and I looked at each other in silence and felt a little guilty for what I would do

- Semirion, to me.. I'm terribly sorry," I said, as he interrupted me right there.

- It's okay, you did what you had to do. I love my father, but many things require sacrifices - This thought seemed to us the most reasonable thing that happened to us during this difficult time.

- In that case... Is that all? - Asked Mosha-Nu - Astator's army is broken up in several cities/kingdoms.

- That's not all, Mosha. Even if the Astator is defeated, there is a risk of a Counter-Revolution. Therefore, it is worth being on the alert and praying for Shat-Alir so that he rules soundly and does not become like an Astator..

These words were the last to be heard. Then there was only silence, and the three of us watched the dilapidated city, whose population was crying from the loss of loved ones and shouting with joy.

"The tyranny of Astator is no more!" it sounded from all corners and buildings.

But we just sat and watched it. We were not the main link in this uprising. Not even secondary. We just did what we had to do and handled it terribly. We lost people, didn't save a single one and spent several dozen sunsets on it. However, here it is - a victory, but not ours. This is not a victory for me with Mosh-well, or any other. This is the victory of those who were wounded and killed in this uprising, this is the victory of mothers and fathers whose children fought for the future of their descendants. This is the victory of the Supreme Idol, this is the victory of Kir, but not of us. I am happy for my people, and I pray that the ghost of Astator does not haunt these lands ever again. It's over.

## The end

It's been a few sunsets since my last recording. Astator's army was finally defeated, all the cities were taken. Some told how they saw Astator himself with a Loyalist detachment of 4 people, who was able to get above the clouds. I don't believe it, because it's impossible. Besides, even if he made his way higher, what difference does it make to us? The new regime has new jobs - gangs that appeared during the revolution, sabotage detachments of Anarchists and "Forest Brothers". In addition, many Loyalists who survived the revolution and were able to escape began to unite in guerrilla groups, which often made themselves known by setting fire to and blowing up entire houses. Someone even talks about the beginning of a counter-revolution. However, I hope that the Supreme Idol can handle it despite his young age.

Now I'm sitting in my room and writing this chronicle. I just want to tell you that when you get down to business - do not be distracted by minor things, because they can ruin your main goal, and perhaps even your meaning of life. I can't forgive myself for not keeping track of people, I can't sleep at night and somehow move on. Maybe I will die in agony and regret... However, no one cares about it, and it does not concern anyone except me, because this is a consequence of MY, and only my negligence. However, this no longer concerns the Chronicle, but only my inner world and my descendants....

**THE END**