“True strength comes from the will to simply to stand up,”
My father’s book was indeed filled with stories, sadly they were very vague but not due to the negligence of my father rather due to someone removing several facts of my family’s stories. Even though I continue to read and read I have yet found any formulas or any other information to advance my alchemy. But as it stands, the stories read well and continue to capture my imagination. It was one particular scene that haunts my mind though, a strange transformation my ancestor wrote of, in his own words;
“_The vessel of which my magic aura comes from is my own body, it continues to reveal new discoveries but also it frightens me. Where does it come from? How does our body produce such power? Seeking deeper though I found more questions than answers sadly, for if such power I could easily extract what darkness and evil could just as easily be brought forth?_”
Strange to comment of how Alchemist uses their own body as their template and ultimately their own science experiment. I myself wonder if Keyoto Du Couteau meant darkness, or perhaps meant to define evil a tad more, it interests me to know what else our pool of magic can conjure or create. But as much information I can gather from my ancestor’s journeys he also put a lot of fluff and distractions such as romance and love and heartache. Honestly I asked my father for a proper book of my family not some ditsy tale of adventure and romance. Makes me slightly irritated to read at times.
The outside word continues to show that just as our own city, nothing strikes me as different. The amount of diversity sure, but no real advancement of science beyond the scope of my own lab or my fathers, lest none that I’ve seen thus far. Empires and nations continue to battle for their quest of total domination, and magic flourishes over every corner of our world. It makes one feel a tad insignificant to the grand schemes and the big picture. Even my own imagination fills my dreams of grandeur and glory. I laugh though, such hubris thoughts and greed would end me if I don’t continue to pick apart my short falling and examine my success. Always fight, always act within ones own win conditions and never step beyond that parameter.
Which brings me to this point, this very point of understanding limits and underestimating. A woman died in my arms, in front of me. I came forward to those I am around about my mistake and have be known of our mission’s failure fall on my shoulders. My eyes betray nothing but an urge to move forward and my emotions the same as they were before. . . the nightmares came, and when my eyes close I can still see her. . . it kept me from my sleep and has hindered any progress I have with my research and study. May I see Truth. . . may I find truth. . .