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Time is inconsistent for me wherever I travel, so I cannot mark these Chronicles with dates. My companions and I have traveled the world, traveled the planes, and have now finally breached the wall of Time itself. Only by recording our deeds can I preserve our memory in the events of the Cosmic Rain.

I am a Catfolk, or a Nekojin as we prefer to call ourselves. have shaggy, voluminous and shoulder length red hair, curly; and olive skin and almond shaped green eyes. My tail is groomed in such a way as to leave a tuft at the end, and strands of my hair which reach the edge of my shoulders are braided, as is the custom of many of the males of my race. I wore my usual attire of purple eyeliner and donned a blue birdmask, and a gray cloak engulfed my shoulders on this occasion over a green brocade. Loose navy cargo pants shuffled while I walked, my feet secured in big dark brown boots. My red tail was well groomed and tufted at the end.

To my waists were sheathed a katana and a wakazashi, and in my hands I employed my long, enchanted quarterstaff as a walking stick. The sky was cloudy and the binary suns barely shone at all that one noon while I traversed along a wide and undulating prairie. A thick mist wrapped the surrounding vistas, and while I meandered, the countryside dappled at the boundaries of the winding prairies by large forests, my mind drifted to more political topics. I was traveling alone, as usual, and although it was very dangerous for me to braving the wilds like this with so little in the forms of protection, there seemed very little else to me at the time in regards to my financial circumstance.

It was the dawn of the fifth era of the imperial calander and I was twenty-two years of age. The continent of Rohawkk had for centuries no longer been united politically, and was instead divided into five warring nations. I was currently traveling in Emera, seeking employment and living a vagabond life. I'd been collecting rare and valuable treasure for the last seven months, some of them magical, and currently I sought succor in the coastal city of Brier Rose Reach.

Lately the armies of Alaric and Mehmed II had been confronting one another, gaining ground and facing off; however, resolution between the two invading warlords seemed far off, and none of the major territories had surrendered any of their sovereignty to either Alaric or Mehmed II in their efforts and ideals in uniting the Five Lands--and on their own conflicting terms. It was guerrilla warfare, and long and ceaseless, with opposing armies only very gradually gaining and losing ground.

And where there was once a thriving industry of transportation under the jurisdiction of the continental empire centuries ago, these days all of the worlds most advanced technology were reserved for the nobility and the elites, and most of the locomotive devices were kept exclusively within the possession of political jurisdiction. Most individuals from the tradesman class rented their rides or took the train to get places, and I was poor, so I enjoyed no such convenience myself. Hence I normally walked to all my locations, while simply the price of ordinary cab-fare ranged through the roof.

Twenty minutes later of traveling I saw walls of Brier Rose Reach, sitting on a hill, next to an oceanic blue coast nestled among bay terrain. Grass became increasingly scarce while I meandered from the wild unto more urban district. A winding road lead from the city to the wilderness and the density of trees thinned out as I got closer to the urban development.

Evening had arrived by the time I'd reached the city gates. A dark purple sky dappled with sluggish thunderheads canopied above, elongated with stars. The humidity felt more damp while I left the wilderness behind, drawing closer to the northeast entrance.

There were three gates to the walled coastal city of Brier Rose Reach: to the northeast, which I was no taking, to the south, and to the west. Sentinels garrisoned the walls, and the rim of the city was built with the thickness of a fortress. The wall meandered along with the slope of the hills, jutting the terrain in a winding and yet quite enclosing fashion.

After flashing the sentinels a passport--I had arrived from the Land of Emera, and Brier Rose Reach was situated within the more mountainous territories of Effeverlaan; and my license conferred to me by the Amagiri extolled several of my political accomplishments, and many of the major towns of Effeverlaan were in lock down because of territorial disputes in the recent war--I was granted entrance.

A quarter of an hour later I made unto a hotel and rented space, and after situating myself within my room, and resting myself a while, I returned downstairs to get a feel of the surrounding areas. I felt much in the mood for a walk.

I sat inside a hotel lobby, looking out the window and noticing how the weather had not approved. A couple of hours had passed since I entered the city. The hotel sat along the beach, and whenever I so chose to I could look out to the surfing coast.

The television was on shooting news stories in the far corner. Very few people were present here for the time, and if I chose to, I walk to the bar not too far off, where ambient jazz would play among the chatter of patrons.

Weapons were obviously not allowed in the hotel, and nor was I permitted to bear them openly within city limits, so I had to drop my swords off at customs. Carrying my bo staff was fine.

Growing weary of my surroundings, I chose to take a stroll outside.

Several months had passed since I last met either Delaigo or Jastlin Cellar, and while I walked the streets, thinking back, I realized now how purposeless my life now seemed since then. We had sought the Scepter of Goth together, an artifact of the ancient wizard Manart capable of inducing storm-spells, a powerful variety of elemental magic related to the weather. During the Second Era, the Aitan Age, the wizard Manart had produced three treasures using forgotten principles within the science of alchemy, and the Lancer Jastlin Cellar had thought one of the wizard's artifacts was lodged in a centuries' abandoned manse, back when he recruited the assistance of Delaigo and I.

Many untamed elemental spirits permeated the manse, as they do in all areas of the wilderness and ruins, and many of the Creahka which Delaigo, Jastlin and myself has seen surrounding the manse had been unclassified by the libraries of magical science.

We never did find locate the Scepter, and when we last split, Jastlin decided on finding new leads, while Delaigo and myself, whom had known each other a little longer than we'd known the lancer Jastlin, returned to the task of finding minor amulets by traversing the ruins and the wilds, and pawning them for cash. Jastlin needed to engage in any such practice of scavenging since we has well provided for by the Templars.

But one of the features of the Scepter, a power widely unmentioned, dealt with the properties of time and not just matter. Jastlin had mentioned it to me prior to our investigation of that large and ancient manse.

I stood amid an alley of a shabby district of Brier Rose Reach, and lit a cigarette there. The binary suns were lowered midway from their apex, and the streets of this side of the town were bleak and wet, puddles were a common sight here, since it had rained a lot a few days ago.

Nekojin, or Catfolk as the other races call us, are widely regarded by many societies as a slave race. Only a quarter of the Catfolk are male, and the women of my race are far more active in the social and political affairs of life. While I enjoyed the comforts of the home, I sought adventure during my teenage years out of curiosity and ambition, and although I became more laid back in the following years, the allure of the road still did not go away, even when my zeal for exploration became more subdued. I met Delaigo when I was seventeen, and I would meet Jastlin Cellar a few years later. At the time he thought it strange that a male member of my race would travel abroad so openly seeking experience and adventure, but as he became more acquainted with me he let those perceptions gradually pass.

Back when I was investigating the Kingdom Heads in the jungles of Elacruse, a city situated on the suburbs of Emerald Center, the captial of Emera, it became apparent to me during my escapades in treasure hunting there that the Star Rituals widely practiced among the various tribes of my people and carried out by their matriarchs and their shamans had its roots in ancient Aitan magical knowledge. A large underground complex situated at the border of Elacruse and accessible by the mouth of a cave contained deserted urban relics, the ruins of subterranean settlements not widely talked about at schools. These ruins possessed several characteristics of the ancient Aitan tribes, that long predated the Rohawkkian Empire. I had confiscated a substantive number of these tools and taken them for analysis by a scholar in archaeology and only then was it brought to my attention the existence of the underdark, and that the Aitan genealogy had branched off into three major categories in the mythic past: High, Wood, and Dark elves respectively. These differences of branches in genealogy demonstrated how the High Elves got around to constructing such vast quantities of arcane engineering in relation to their conductance of vril in application to the thermal properties of the underground, since the earlier prospectors during the Aitan Era, which would eventually detach itself and evolve separately from the Elves of the surface, had initially sought and produced technologies for cavernous environments.

It was among these series of underground investigations I'd been exploring with both Delaigo and Jastlin Cellar which lead to the Lancer's awareness of that most particular Aitan relic created by the wizard Manart.

But right now I simply felt bored and weary while I stood idly with my back against a concrete wall, whittling time in one of Brier Rose Reach's allies.

I called to meet with Timaeus, since we were both within the vicinity of the same city. His brother Crito, however, was not. I wanted to tell him about my most recent investigation, a mission appointed to me by the Amagiri. Both of us were agents of that same international organization, albeit low-entry ones. I work in scouting and reconnaissance, while Timaeus was one of their scholars and intelligence officers. Delaigo and Jastlin were appointed in the vanguard of the Amagiri, military combatants, although Delaigo only worked with the agency indirectly via other chapters of the Global Security League. The Amagiri dealt with demi-human entanglements and the investigations and advancements of the elemental sciences, and since Delaigo was not a demi-human like Jastlin, Timaeus, Crito, and myself, whatever involvements he got within the same political context as mine own were commissioned to him by other institutes within the Global Security League (GSL).

Only the Exultants could readily afford to travel by air, so my companions and I worked and traveled exclusively on the continent of Rohawkk. On this occasion the call I'd given Timaeus involved international entanglements involving the sub-continent of Thrace, which neighbored the Five Lands, or Rohawkk, at the east.

Timaeus was a black mage, and as a consequence of such, the Rowan focused his studies within the context of the most scholarly departments of the Amagiri on elemental mysticism, the conjuring of the Creahka and the manipulation of the eight elements in the practice of astramancy.

While I had been offhandedly listening to the news in that hotel lobby I'd been in, I'd noticed the media had been covering a recurrent story. The television had been covering a development regarding an encroachment of untamed Creahka in towns of the countryside. Apparently the wild elementals in the more rural areas of the Five Lands have mustered up either the courage or audacity to invade small settlements.

I left the alley, my red tufted tail swinging deftly while I sauntered to a more active block of the city. I gazed down slightly while I strolled along the wet concrete street, letting my mind roam from a platter of topics of its own accord. My feline ears were tilted down, and I only half-paid any attention to my physical surroundings.

Timaeus awaited me within the parameters of a cheap residential area. The Rowan sorcerer had rented a hovel situated among a shabby urban complex consisting of broad edifices extending along pine trees and precipitous peaks.

I knocked on the door, and he promptly opened it.

Timaeus was a Rowan, a diminutive race with blue skin and red eyes. His hair was white and he wore complex black and gold robes. He greeted me. We were old acquaintances, met one another in high school really, both he and his brother Crito and my older childhood friend Delaigo.

The formalities where very short, and I promptly walked in with very little rites and procedures. None of us really cared, being analytical minded, my friends and I.

Several minutes passed before I met him at the TV. I got some orange juice because I was thirsty and brought it to the living room. The audio of the TV was low. It was the news. The suspenser lamps were dim, and I noticed a delineated feature of weariness in my Rowan friend's eyes.

I sat down next to him and drank my juice.

"Lately I've been preoccupied with thoughts concerning my own mortality," I confessed to the battlemage that evening. It was night and the orange moon shone vibrantly in its gibbous state. The small room Timaeus and I were sitting in was dimly lit by two suspender lamps which gave off a vague blue luminous hue.

"Why?" said Timaeus. "You're only twenty-two."

I shook my head dismissively of the fact, and said, "I'm tired of traveling, espionage, and war. And I've got to thinking about some things while I was away from you guys." I stared of blankly into empty space before proceeding with what I had left to say. "I still sometimes think about my past deeds and the old priorities I used to have, and these last two weeks, while I was away, and while I was speculating about our past endeavors. I don't know what's important to me just yet, but I feel worn out out by the life I've been living."

"But why?" said Timaeus, after a short moment's consideration.

"I'm usually not able to sleep anymore, even when my body's tired. And when I'm alone--hell, even when I'm in company--I feel a very noticeable vacancy inside. I'm tired of all the excitement and the senseless chasing of ephemeral experience, and I think I'm ready to settle down in some way."

"You're losing perspective," said Timaeus dismissively. "I've always known you to change your mind quickly. Right now what I think is happening to you is you're confusing a feeling of dissatisfaction with a lack of ambition." Timaeus stood. "Come with me," he said. "There's something I've been meaning to show you, and much of what you told me reminded me of such."

Together we left the hovel, and I followed Timaeus reluctantly, my mannerisms reserved and expressing my thoughtful nature. It was very dark when we left and I noted Timaeus of such.

"What're you going to show me?" I said after observing Timaeus's indifference to the late hour. Timaeus was a Rowan, and as such his physical appearance was characterized by blue skin, red eyes, and long white hair; and during this instance, while he lead me out of the hovel and toward whatever destination he had in mind, I noticed a peculiar gleam in his composure, supposedly indicative of deep relevance.

Timaeus's black and red robe shuffled as we scurried across the street. There were, of course, other topics I had in mind, and after considering them, I decided to bring them up while we walked.

"My old hobbies no longer bring me complacency," I said, "and lately it seems as though my past activities, aside from writing poetry and my thespian interest in attending theaters and writing plays, no longer satisfy me the way they used to."

"And I still say you're overreacting," said Timaeus, while we strolled along.

The avenues we took looked increasingly shady. A thick darkness canopied the sky, it was hours beyond evening, and the orange moon shone vibrantly upon a firmament of stars.

"Anyway, it's regarding the Kingdom Heads we saw while we were traveling in Elacruse last year," said Timaeus to my question. "I found something in the Brier Rose Reach archives you might wanna take a look at."

"Ah, the library," I said. We were walking up to a much wider block.

Timaeus nodded. "I was investigating paranormal activities for one of my more recent cases for the Amagiri," he went on, "when I stumbled upon information pertaining to our most recent excavation back when we were patrolling the suburbs of Emerald Center."

I still could not ascertain why Timaeus did not take my emotional troubles seriously, however this new tidbit of information he was revealing did intrigue me.