Entry: First Faith
Tell me, when the one thing you believe in is gone, what do you do? Perhaps you're wondering why I'm asking this. Do you wish to know? Why? Is it silly for me to ask? What is there to answer? Who has the answers? Why do I ask these questions?
Perhaps you are confused. Let me go back to the beginning. I am a Crusader, Ryuuji of the Zen family. We have served God for many generations, and as I grew up, I was to be another protector and follower. The Zen family was known as a loyal and great family. As soon as we could learn, teachers taught us the divine path. Our God was our father, the one who taught us the most. Who was our God? He was simply called God. But what is a God...I apologize, I drifted into my own thoughts. For years, we learned the holy way. The powers I learned were righteous. My first time using them was like a flower bud blooming into full. We all knew that I was to be a great Crusader. The praise was sweet like honey, but I knew that I had to continue. For so long, I felt that the chosen path was going to be rewarding. I would heal, I would support, I would bring holiness. And I was right, when I was old enough to travel on my own, I did so with great dreams. I had met plenty of Dungeon Fighters and made many friends. Grandis was an exceptional teacher who taught me even more of the Crusader's road. However, then came the fated day. Fate, all that was taught to me and yet how I learned to hate this word. I had come back to my home to see my family again. It had been such a long time ago since I last saw them, so it was a good time for me to visit. It was a splendiferous time. However, one day, I was in our library, reading over some books. I had stumbled upon an ancient text, farthest away from the door, hiding in a corner. Curiosity got to me and I picked it up. There was no title, only a blank hardback cover. As I read through, it talked of the histories of the Ryuuji family and also the God that we worship, follow, protect, and praise. I felt fine at first, interested in learning about our history. But there I stumbled upon a page. It was written differently, the words were...gothic, it seemed.
Thy God is not holy. Thy family is blind. So long, years have passed, and no one did find.
To you who sees, know thy God interrupts. To you who sees, know thy God is corrupt.
It is you who shall save, you who are fated. Defeat thy God, which evil created.
I stared blankly at the words. Surely they were not true. A...a rascal or jester was here! That was who was responsible! This is not true! For generations and generations, we have served our Lord and the Lord had protected us. He was our savior, our teacher, our protector. I could not believe this, I did not want to. I took the book away and hid it in my room. I did not believe...I did not believe.
That night, as I slept, a horrendous nightmare stirred me. My God, laughing evilly in the skies. Death and despair, he caused them all. I woke up with a gasp, and I was sweating heavily. As I calmed myself down a bit, I took the book out once again. I flipped to the page, and to my surprise, new words formed.
To you who hesitate, do not be scared. You must be strong, you must be prepared.
To you who knows, your God must die. Do not believe that this is a lie.
You are fated, this is your path. Save the world from thy God's wrath.
At that point, I realized that I had to. There was no way around it. But how could I? Where do I begin? And thus my question comes once again: What do you do when your belief is gone?