The Exodus Journal: Entry 8

Fantasy Friday

The terrain is becoming more and more elevated as we go on, and I can now see, with utmost clarity, the vastness that is the mountains ahead. Though I have read about its greatness several years ago, I was still shaken by the sheer height of its peaks – snow clad and menacing.

Beyond that, the sheer width of the mountain was breathtaking in its own right. It stretched as far as the eye could see on both ends, beginning at the furthest reaches to the north and ending by the  great ocean to the south. Or so I’ve read…

Aside from the view ahead of me, I could now also see the the land we have left behind.

However, the most significant sight was not the greatness of nature, or the horrors of the fiery death at the horizon, but the snake-like line of people still submerged under the crowns of the trees.

It will take days before they will reach the point where I am now standing.

And here I will remain until they do, for the duty of the educated is to make sure people without it remain orderly, remain organised, and above all, remain calm. I will show my empathy by remaining here and document their arrival; to determine their various needs before continuing onward.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


The Exodus Journal: Entry 7

Fantasy Monday

The density and the roughness of the terrain have caused a great deal of complications on our travel, extending our journey threefold for what we expected it to be. But, after weeks of powering through the vegetation, the thickness of the forest finally seem to thin out as the mountains grew tall before my vision.

Thanks to this, I can now see ahead towards our destination, and thus determine where the strange light is coming from. Having perplexed us for some time, I can with certainty conclude that the light emanates somewhere beyond the mountain, further cementing my theory that it is anything but supernatural.

After all, we have long passed this supposed border of the “Land of the Dead”, and we have yet to see anything suggesting anything supernatural, nor any architecture for that matter.

Despite this, the Easterners, and indeed many of my colleges, glances nervously over their shoulders, wincing at every little sound, as if expecting some ghoulish creature to emerge from the foliage.

However, even though I don’t believe it myself, it is becoming harder and harder to remain level-headed when more and more people seem to subscribe to the notion of a ghostly presence in this land.

But regardless of anyone’s beliefs, nobody knows what awaits us beyond the mountain, and the only sign of what to come, is a faint light that is only visible at the peak of night-time; when the sun sets and the moon still lingers behind the smog to the east.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


The Exodus Journal: Entry 6

Fantasy Friday

As stated in an earlier entry, I don’t know much about this land. However, I know of the drastic changes in temperature that can happen within the seasons of the region. And considering the placement of the sun, it will not be long before the weather turns to freezing and the first snow begins to settle. However, because of the cataclysmic events that continue to follow us, it is becoming apparent that the climate is not going to act as it used to.

Furthermore, I have noticed, ever since our departure, that it takes longer and longer for the sun to rise through the thickness of the smog in the horizon, now only granting us light as late as noon; effectively extending the night time to 18 hours.

Despite this, I can still feel the heat from the westward wind, warming an otherwise cold and damp environment. But even though the warmth is somewhat a blessing, all things considered, I cannot help to think what fuels said warmth; it consumed our loved ones, our homes, and the very land we used to live. Thoughts that sends a shiver down my spine.

As a result, warmth or cold, nothing is a certainty and the only thing we can do is to travel as fast, and as far away as possible.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


The Exodus Journal: Entry 5

Fantasy Monday

Several days have now passed without any sign of civilisation, neither new nor old. And as I went to sleep that night, disheartened from my lack of findings, I awoke, hearing commotion outside my tent. In the glade, that I had chosen to set up camp, a large crowd had gathered, the people staring awestruck into the night; the sky strangely illuminated, as if the sun was set at dusk.

Curious, I powered my way through to the front of the crowd, and as I looked ahead, I found myself dumbfounded, as well. Between the dense branches of the forest I saw a faint light glow in the distance. The light had a purple colour in both the lighter and darker tone.

What this meant, I had no idea, but it did not matter at the time, for it was beautiful. Being engulfed in the magic of the moment, my revery was broken as I heard a group of the eastern tribesmen murmuring nervously next to me. Their faces showing terror rather than wonder.

Unable to take my eyes of the light, I inquired about their behaviour the next morning. Their explanation was unsatisfactory, as their tales were filled with ambiguity, which comes as no surprise as this is the furthest that any of them have dared to travel. They could not know what the light was, so naturally, they were convinced that we were entering into the Kingdom Of the Dead.

Though, such an explanation is unlikely, I cannot deny the ominous feeling the light emanates. I will watch this phenomenon closely from now on.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


The Exodus Journal: Entry 4

Fantasy Friday

To keep my mind occupied, I’ve made it routine to speak with the new arrivals. Their stories intrigue me, I have to admit. And even though the easterners are a rather uncouth race – making conversations with them is less than a pleasurable – I learned that their stories vary significantly depending on which village they came from; and sometimes they vary between families. Their mushy accent of the common tongue did not help to piece this together either, but I managed to find a red line in all their stories:

Once upon a time this land was once ruled by a mighty kingdom. Castles and cities littered the mountain range, creating a wall that protected this world from the next, sealing the vengeful souls of the dead to the other side of the mountain. But, somewhere along the line, the kingdom declined and the vengeful souls swarmed over the mountain, killing anyone in its path. However, with one last heroic act by an unknown hero, they managed to prevent the scourge from pressing further, preventing it from engulfing the rest of the world.

Why, and how this happened, is when the stories begin to vary and I choose not to study them further. But even though these stories are clearly fictional, I’ve learned that legends are often based in truth – although loosely.

I will keep my eyes peeled as we trudge along. Maybe I can find some evidence of ruins in the undergrowth.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


The Exodus Journal: Entry 3

Fantasy Monday

As one of the intellectuals of this journey, I am entitled to certain comforts that are otherwise unavailable to the majority of the population. Where most people have to care for their own belongings and well-being, mine is always cared for. But, as such entitlements have it benefits, it gives my mind free reign to wander, to reminisce and recollect things that I’d much rather forget. For in the darkest hours of our lives, the mind often turns to despair.

I’ve seen this happen before, driven to suicide by the self-destructive forces of the underbelly of our consciousness.

To avoid such an outcome, I have volunteered to participate in the emissary missions and extend an invitation to our grand exodus. Though these encounters are immensely interesting, and above all, time-consuming, I’ve learned that these people are not only ignorant but also superstitious.

Deeper into the forest and closer to the mountains, the natives refer to the land as the land of the dead. The land where the souls of the regretful live, haunted by ghosts and wraiths that wander aimlessly and destroys anyone alive, for they are envious of the living.

Despite the horror stories engraved in them since birth, little convincing needed to be applied, for it was clear that they had no choice but to brave such superstition and hope that their tales were untrue. For the true land of the dead now lies behind us, millions upon millions that are dead and will never see their remains attended – to forever haunt the wastelands of their former homelands.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


Scheduling your Posts

When you start a website or a blog, the ultimate goal is to generate traffic. But even though their are so called, “time tested methods” in how to acquire such traffic, it often becomes apparent how shallow they are if they have no passion for what they do.

I want this site to be a place where I can present my stories and to show of the capabilities that the fantasy world “Book of Legacy” have. But to do so, I’m going to have to take the next step in becoming a well visited site; and that is to put a schedule on when and what I publish.

Stories from now on will be posted on Monday’s and Friday’s (The current one you can read here: The Exodus Journal).

I also aim to posts poetry on Wednesdays and maybe a personal blog post on the weekend… Maybe.

So, yeah, lets see if this works out and if I can indeed follow a schedule at all!


The Exodus Journal: Entry 2

Fantasy Friday

The lands to the east are truly wild, dense with ancient trees that tower high above our heads; unexploited by human hands. There is no road to follow either, only a small path that is leading us in the general direction of our destination – a mountain both tall in legend and height, that separates the known with the unknown. Our hopes are that once ascended, the cataclysm will be unable to follow and we will once again know peace.

Sometimes we encounter small villages along our way, small hints of civilisation represented by the smoke from their campfires. We send emissaries whenever we are able, and the people often accepts our offer to join as they are aware of the impending danger. But there are those that refuse our invitation. I do not know why they would as they should be aware of the destructive forces of the cataclysm by now; the smoke blackening the sky and the smouldering flames that illuminates the horizon in the west.

Though, I do not mourn for those that are left behind, for these eastern folk are as wild as the forest they live in. A land not claimed by neither tribe nor nation. What else would one expect of a people living at the edges of the known world, by the foot of the mountain that separates this world and the next.

I myself is not familiar with this land for I come from the land furthest to the west where the sea is plentiful and the beaches are beautiful. But I refrain from recalling too vividly my former homelands for the pain such memories cause is unimaginable. Nor do I have any inclination of writing it down for I could never, with mere words, do justice of its beauty.

No, it is better for it to be lost by the ages. To focus on the prospects ahead rather than what we have lost.


Read the rest of the series here: The Exodus Journal


I aimed to post these stories once a day, but I was immediately thwarted by a writers block… so I took a break. Good thing I did because I changed the name of the series from “Baxter Helbard’s Journal” to “Exodus Journal”. Better to change it early when the series is still young.

The Exodus Journal: Entry 1

Fantasy Monday

It is now 368 days since the exodus from our homelands and the horrors that we’ve witnessed have been many; images that I’d rather forget, much less describe. Yet, they are burned into my consciousness and will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I will continue to repress them and look onward into the future, in the hopes that I, and our people, will once again know peace.

What else can one do than to hope for a better future, lest you lay down and die in defeat? which I have seen many do. Completely and utterly giving up on the future. I don’t blame them, however. I’m not ashamed to admit that the thought had crossed my mind, as well. For what do I possibly have to live for? when everything that I know, and thought I knew, has been shattered by forces that I, nor anyone else, can explain but the acts of god all mighty?

Some believe that Lord Avos is testing us, while others believe that he have abandoned us. I don’t subscribe to any of those statements for who are we to interpret his infinite wisdom? That is to say, if such a man truly exists? It doesn’t matter, however. For those that have survived, they look toward the future, how bleak it may be. Hence I write this journal, to document a new beginning instead of our demise.


Read it at all in one place here