I've never done this before. I've never kept a diary.
Hm, this isn't really a diary… Should I be more formal?
No, it'll probably end up as one no matter what; there's no way I can get through all this information without rambling. And it's fine if it's personal, right? It's to help myself understand it all better, not for anyone else to read.
I'd start from the beginning, but what is the beginning, exactly?
"The beginning of my life" seems like the obvious answer. The problem is, I don't know when that was.
Since I'm 18 years old, it might seem obvious that "18 years ago" is the answer. But I wasn't a baby 18 years ago. In fact, I looked exactly the same as I do now…
…Just like every other Alavieskan.
In my case, my body is that of an 18-year-old, too, but that's just a coincidence.
The day I was born wasn't the day my body was created. The day I was born was the day of my first memory.
Eighteen years ago, we all made our first memories.
I remember it so clearly, from the second it began.
If there's anywhere to start this story, it's that day.
***
The First Day
Blink!
Total darkness.
And for a brief moment, total silence. Then, the silence was broken by a single scream and a few footsteps.
That series of footsteps paused for a moment as there was a light thud, then another scream. A second later, there were two screams and two series of footsteps.
Then two thuds, and four screams plus four series of footsteps. Four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two. Multiplicative chaos had begun.
In seconds, the piercing noise filled my eardrums to the brim. This was my first experience with the sense of sound.
As for the sense of touch, all I could feel was a hard surface against my back.
These were physical sensations. These came to me first.
Emotions came to me next. Even though "me" as I know it had just been born, I felt utterly calm somehow, as if I had been meditating for hundreds of years before this moment.
Thoughts came to me third. The feedback from my senses and the emotion of calm were both synthesized and fed to my brain as information. The "endless noise" was understood as screaming. The texture of the surface I was leaning against was understood as rock.
The first full thought I had was, "Why are you screaming? Are you in pain?"
But on second thought, they didn't sound like only screams of pain. They sounded confused and frightened.
I stared into the darkness as I listened to the screaming and thudding. There were different tones with different vocal inflections. The screaming was densely layered; it was many voices. Somehow, I knew the voices were humans, although I wasn't sure where I learned what a human was.
And somehow, I knew I was one too.
With those noises as clues, I eventually figured out what was going on. Hundreds—no, probably thousands of people were screaming, running, and crashing into each other.
As I remained there in the dark, completely still, my eyes didn't adjust at all. Eyes can only adjust to light when there's some to begin with. I could only tell I was blinking by placing my finger over my eyelid and feeling it go up and down.
But strangely, I could 'see' with my ears.
I made a small clicking sound with my mouth. I'm not sure what drove me to do it that first time, but it just felt natural. In my mind's eye, I watched the sound bounce around. It formed a shadowy and vague image of what was happening around me. Indeed, my echolocation doesn't come from an Instrument. It's something I've been able to do from the start.
While I 'watched' the chaos and pain, I wasn't sure why I was so calm.
I reached my hand up and touched my face. I felt my nose, then my lips, then my eyes.
…Yes, there was no doubt about it, I was human.
I wondered, if I'm human too, why am I not screaming and running around, too?
My best guess is it has something to do with what we were all doing before we came here. Their fear carried over, and my calm carried over.
…The screaming continued, and continued, and continued. I lost track of how much time had passed. Was it hours, days?
I wondered who started the chain reaction. We all talked about it later, but nobody said they were the first one.
Anyway, the chaos did eventually end. The end of chaos came with the end of darkness.
All of a sudden, there was a gorgeous light glowing blue. All noise stopped at once. The blue light shot into the sky from the center of the crowd.
Everyone gasped in surprise and then exclaimed with happiness at the light. We could still barely see anything, but the light was enough to make the mass hysteria stop.
I was too far from the center of the crowd to see the light source, but I watched from the edge as the beam's angle tilted downward and pointed into the crowd. It began spinning around and around, until it landed in a single direction.
The crowd parted, but one person remained in the path of the beam. He was right next to me.
He was lying on the ground with his arms spread out and facing upward. His body was covered with injuries, and he seemed dead, but tears streamed from his closed eyes.
With the way cleared, I could see the source of the light now. It was a black plastic orb with a bright blue triangle on it. It was so bright it couldn't be read.
And then, the orb spoke, for the first and only time. The voice was crackly and garbled.
"He is the one who is now on his third life, and yet has only lived once.
"He is the one with the memories.
"In the end, he will be one who will tell you the truth; a great story."
Strangely, I recognized all these words. I knew they were in English.
There was another thing I recognized, too. I don't think anyone else saw it.
For some reason, I felt a tug in my heart while I looked at that young man. I was trying to place my finger on why.
…So, I was looking at his face on the ground while the 8-Ball was talking. And I saw something strange: his lips were moving slightly.
Then, the 8-Ball's message had ended, and this detail practically left my mind.
The young man reached his hand up into the air. The beam of light tracked it.
He twisted his hand, then made a fist. Lights of every color were sucked out of the 8-Ball, leaving only a little bit of blue to light up the screen.
He slowly lowered his hand of light toward the rocky ground. The light entered the ground silently and spread all across it. A field of endless ripples textured the world.
The light no longer had one source. It seemed to come a little bit from everywhere.
Each pocket of the world was lit evenly; there were no shadows at all.
And there was Alavieska. The plateau above a canyon, a canyon with a river of blood trailing through it and disappearing at the base of the opposite cliff face. A tall cliff face with a sheer drop on both sides, one side leading to the Chasm. All of it was inside a cave—everything was encased by rock walls on the sides, and a ceiling was far above.
On the plateau, there was only the fountain, as well as a single small building with brick walls and a concrete door.
There were none of the red and white buildings. But there was red, multiple shades of it. There was the red of the rock, and a darker red, that of blood.
Now that everything was illuminated, we could all see the carnage that had occurred; everyone stared in shock. In the darkness earlier, 20% of those on the plateau had been knocked down and trampled to death.
And amongst the overlapping corpses, not a single shadow was formed.
However, there was another gift that had yet to be opened. With his right hand, he gave the people light. With his left, he gave them shadows.
The 8-Ball shuddered, and thousands of black shapes shot out, wrapping around the young man's left hand. He still had his eyes closed, filled with tears. He placed his left hand on the ground, then raised it to the sky. All the shadows flew out into the air, each one going to a person.
But the shadows didn't go to the fountain, or to the small house. For in Pohjola, shadows can only be artificial. In this world, humans have shadows because shadows were given to them, not because the sun cast light in a direction.
It was only indoors—away from the perfectly even light—that objects could have shadows, when a specific light source like a match or a lantern was used.
After looking at their new shadows, everyone's gazes snapped onto the young man with sandy hair. Despite his injuries, he was standing up, but he wasn't exactly standing up. Without using his arms to push himself up, he was tilting forward until he was on his feet, with some invisible force to help him. He was like a magician.
And then, his eyes snapped open. His mouth was slightly open with surprise. His eyes were both bright and dark, both emotional and emotionless. They were like a whole universe mixed together.
The crowd had formed a circle around him. He turned and looked at everyone in confusion. The actions he had taken until now had all been unconscious.
When his gaze reached me, it flickered with sadness for a moment, but only a moment. Then that confused expression of someone who had only just been born returned. He reached down and grabbed the 8-Ball, holding it loosely in his hand.
Suddenly, a young man with bright blond hair spoke out to him. "Bringer of light and shadows, what is your name?"
"My name is Azarias… What is yours?" He replied without turning, still in a daze.
The name Azarias passed throughout the crowd with murmurs.
The blond-haired boy responded, "I'm Sariel… But I don't remember who I am. Who am I?"
When he heard this name, Azarias's face twitched again. This time, he looked a little happy for a millisecond before returning to confusion.
Then, Azarias's expression clouded over. "I don't know what this place is. I don't know who any of you are."
Everyone gazed at him with uncertainty. It was clear that they were looking to him to be a leader in this unknown situation.
I didn't feel the same way. Although I felt a strange tug in my heart when I looked at him, I didn't trust him at all from the very beginning.