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This journal is decently preserved. Its cover bears Kortlkot's smith-mark and signature.
The inside reads the following:
I was created when the gods abandoned mortals, alongside Paltasj and Teklan. We were to be the guides for the people. Paltasj guided their futures, Teklan guided their prosperity, and I guided their advancement. Thus, we became gods of fate, agriculture, and creation. I was not created all-knowing or understanding my role beyond an nondescript instinct. I was naive. We all were. None of us truly knew how to lead people, because we didn't know them or the world they lived in. Still, we did our best.
Paltasj always held herself distant from mortals. It was Teklan and I who lived among them, grew to understand them, and tried to think of how to lead them to a better future. I helped raise great cities, invented channels to control water, and created devices to help their daily lives. Teklan showed them how to grow crops and raise animals, but also how to relax at the end of a day. I created wine for him, and he never figured out how he wanted to repay me.
The journal spends a few pages reminiscing on old stories, sharing about the people of ancient times and the various adventures he got up to. The tales seem heart-warming and precious.
The first time I could tell something was wrong was when I was offered something I had never seen before. It was a simple device, really. It was a sculpted jar with some rods and platings of metal that created lightning when moved enough. It didn't have much use and I never saw it again. But still, it was something completely unfathomable to me. I had never thought such a thing could ever be achieved or considered.
I realised mortals were creating without my aid. I don't see this as a bad thing. But in hindsight, it was the first sign I had completed my role as a god. Again and again, they came to me with new inventions. I nodded and approved, but it made me feel disillusioned. What was I doing anymore? Would I even need to exist anymore?
Then, the grand kingdom collapsed. Teklan and I had wondered in those final few decades if it was coming. The land was drying. The people were hungry. The government was harsh and uncaring. The day that King Herschzan was executed, we wondered if we'd failed the people. The grand kingdom was not just their's. It was our's, from the small towns we'd been instructed to help to the high-rising cities we'd said how to create. It was the proof of our worth, both for being created and for being revered.
It was a relief when I heard prayers to my name. We were still something to them, I thought. It brought its new horrors.
I admit that it sounds silly to be upset over my name being printed alongside weapons of war. It wasn't like creating weapons was something new. But it was different now. They weren't being made to defend their lives, it was for slaughtering each other. It was gruesome and violent. Gone were days of toys and joy, where creation was delight. My name became diminished to nothing but he who would aid in killing.
I floundered in this new role. The world was changing fast and drastic, and in no way I could keep up or want to see. But people looked to the gods for help and reassurance, and I found that job to be more important than my morals. They needed a champion for their fight for peace and individuality. I wish I could have been that, but each death, each contraption of torture, only taught me the dangers of uninhibited progress.
There was never a day I felt so relieved than when the gods returned here to ascend Hiko. I heard the cries of chaos and hurt from my followers when I gave my domain to him, but it felt like a burden pulled off of my shoulders. Paltasj is less so willing to give up rulership of domains. Even now, as mortals look to Hiko for guidance of the future, Paltasj refuses to give him true control over it. Thankfully, Hiko hardly seems to care.
I wasn't useless, of course. My divine role was always to lead mortals in creation. Being turned to for war was a product of what creation they needed. I was also joy. I was hard work, diligence, and fitness. I was still creation, progression, and advancement.
There wasn't a particular moment that made me give up my divinity. I had felt out of sorts for centuries. My followers greatly decreased with my relinquishment of war. Those that stayed true to my idea of building futures found themselves being raided and slaved for the various groups that fight to be the next grand kingdom. One day, Teklan came to me crying and drunk over a sports festival in my honor that had been murdered. It told me that I was no longer thought of as sacred.
"A crop that takes root will one day wilt." "Any sword made has a time when it's finished." These are sayings mortals have to describe that anything that begins must end. Mortals don't need me to teach them anymore. Ring has sworn to me that he will keep my desire for a brighter future in his heart. Teklan easily took over the celebration of the body. Gontra was always the true deity of light and fire. Creation lies in the hands of the people who live in this world. This is what became of my domains. My job is complete. My final role is to lead the last of my followers to a future without me.
I have told them to not weep. The death of my divinity is not the death of their lives or the futures we all dreamed of. It is the opposite - it is unerring proof that I have done what I was made to do.
The gods allowed me to become mortal and let my life come to a close, as opposed to simply no longer existing. I am grateful. War is still destroying the land and our people, but as I spend the last of my days in one of the few forges left in my name, I feel peace. The world progressed not how I expected it to, and isn't that beautiful? Isn't that wonderful? They have outgrown me. I have fostered civilisation to prosperity, free thinking, and initiative. They can make their own plans now. They can create their own future.
I am old now. The salamanders of Khundrukar have treated me well. They plan to lay themselves to rest here. I have guided their lives, they say. They wish to follow me to death and guide me to eternal rest. I couldn't be more happy.
To dearest Paltasj, allow yourself to mourn. I know you want to keep up a brave face, but I will miss you as much as you'll miss me. Parting is always the worst part of meeting someone. There were few we were so close with than each other.
To beloved Teklan, carry on our dreams. Remember the day we looked out over the grand kingdom and were in breath-taken awe. No memory is so definitive of me than that. And please, the wine was a gift of love.
I am Kortlkot. I was the god of creation. I ruled over cities, civilisation, progress, innovation, and the hopes of a better future. They saw me as a stalwart of health and fitness, and appreciated me so much that they created games in my honour. Those in forges did so in my name, crafting metal to make my dreams with their hands. The dreams of prosperous life, of intelligence, of joy, and of peace.
Thank you for bearing witness to my words. I have thought of all sorts of devices that never came to be - ways for everyone to talk regardless of where they may be, bodily replacements for those grievously injured, and machines that could take care of the needs of the people without corruption. If you are reading this as a relic, then I ask you to make a prayer to Teklan or whoever he has gifted his domains to. Share if these things have come to be. Tell him of things I could have never imagined. And remind him that my heart is bursting with pride.
Should you be willing to carry my will, say aloud, "Let the fires of creation burn."
