A small leather journal used by Tsing Toa
This small book is one of the few things left of the brave Tsing Toa, who hailed from Gaoling City, the city where he met the friends at the World Youth Combat Tournament. Friends that he would give his life for, and for freedom against the Imperial Order.
This may be the first time I’ll admit to nearly dying without being hurt. I’ve fought with spirits, I’ve fought bandits, I’ve fought with people who use the very elements as weapons. I’ve battled armies, watched wars, been surrounded by lizards with sharp teeth. I have met matches in each of my experiences, and never have I been affected by the fear. Not when left alone in the streets. Not when bleeding on dying friends. These battle titans are monsters who plow through men like soft soil. Never since that day long ago have I backed down from a threat to my people. Today I cowered. My fear sent my shots awry and thwarted my attempts at heroism. When that thing drew near, I ran with no concern for anyone but myself. I tried to redeem my actions when we defended the wall, and still then could not find my strength. I held well enough. They never would have set foot on that wall had my head been where it should. But now I must rest, clear my mind for the task ahead. There is still fighting to do, and I must be at my prime. My arm still hurts. More pushups before punching further Rhinos.