(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

“What little life there is in the world is draining out this hole in my
body. The world can burn, the planes can burn, just give me life! I will
destroy this life so badly, break it, smash it, and stain it in blood and
feces, so you cannot live it either! Let all creation burn for I cannot
die!”
I pushed the panel.
Click.
“It is extremely important to record your journeys so that you might
learn from them. The greater need, however, is that the sources of
information you use to uncover this mystery need to be protected when
they are found. If key figures, documents or oracles are somehow
removed, either by death or destruction, then you will never know who or
what you are or how you came to be this way.”
The craftsmanship of the panel was exquisite, inset with the precision that
only a master could achieve.
Click.
“I suspect that we will continue to die and be reborn until we finally get
our life right. I do not know what we have to do to bring that about,
though. And therein lies the frustration.
Is it some sort of karmic cycle? As I gather, some incarnations have
committed terrible crimes but also there have been a number of
incarnations where we have labored to do nothing but good. Are these
incarnations intended as punishment? I don't know. And that is the only
real truth I can offer in these carvings: I do not know.
At what point does the I get separated from the we? At what point am I
freed of the shackles of the actions of these other incarnations? At what
point am I allowed to be *me,* without the weight of these past lives?”
Click.
The final inscription looked like the directions on my back that Morte read
to me in the Mortuary. While I thought I gleaned all I needed to know, I
looked it over to refresh my memory. Perhaps more can be gleaned from a
direct reading.
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