Millar, has taken three more souls recently and has grown considerably. Yet, although I must admit that I am finding it ever more difficult to control him, I cannot deny I am feeling the benefits accruing from his insatiable hunger. It has been many years since he last ate and this latest slew of passing nutrition, is beneficial to both of us. Yet, my time as his guardian is drawing to a close. Despite the sustenance, I can feel the darkness creeping ever nearer.
I took a young girl’s life recently because I could not allow him to feed, I shot her with my pistol. Unfortunately, the energy Millar wrought from her partner was enough for him to force me to ferry him across the lake last night, just so that he could satiate his need for the “Life Energy,” of others. Although, I suspect in this case it may have been to take the last soul of a male Gunderson, though he called himself Gordon, Millar could smell his lineage.
His lust for ‘fresh Gunderson brain meat,’ outweighed his desire to retain the victim’s soul and we left the carcass behind in his house on the lakeside. I was forced to calm the victims dog, while he drank it’s master’s very essence and now he wants more…..
I must find a replacement, while I still have the strength to resist him.
Millar claims to have originally appeared in what was to become The Roman Empire, long before the alleged birth of the Christian faith. He claims to have emerged shortly after Hannibal’s victory at The Battle of Cannae, during the Second Punic War, which took place on 2 August 216 BC in Apulia, southeast Italy. This was when the army of Carthage under Hannibal, decisively defeated a larger army of The Roman Republic, under the command of Lucius Aemilius Paullus and Gaius Terentius Varro.
It was said, that the carnage of that day, alerted the ancient Reapers of Meklar, who descended upon the place, to harvest the souls of the dead and escort them to Hell.
Millar enjoyed all the warfare that men created and all the killing that was involved. When young and strong he roamed all across the northern lands, looking for one bloody conflict after another. I am informed, that when Lord Meklar learnt of his son’s wayward behaviour, a stronger guardian, with enhanced powers, was created. Hoping this new ‘Watcher’ could better control his son, Lord Meklar foolishly allowed himself to be distracted and even though he was now under stricter scrutiny, Millar ran amok for many millennia. It wasn’t until he washed up on Ynys Y Niwl with my erstwhile self as his appointed Guardian, that the killing mercifully slowed down.
I am aware that there had been many Guardians before me and that not all of whom completed their tenure in the position. Mainly due to their ward killing them with some past regularity. It appears they had little chance of survival if Millar grew tired of them. I believe that Lord Meklar simply kept on replacing ‘The Watchers,’ with ever more powerful Guardians.
I have read how the original saga of ‘Meklar and the Millar of Souls’ was written by the Scribes. Over time, it became a much-favoured tale that parents told their children, often to scare them into behaving. Over the years, I began to hear my own story added to saga. They tell it something like this:
Around 1035, a Viking raiding party was washed up on the shores of North Wales, after the flight from The Orkney Islands aboard their Longship, The Red Wytch. The Guardian, Rolf Ingersson and a greatly weakened Millar, were stow away’s on the last longship to leave the North. Millar drained what was left of the life force of Rolf Ingersson on the trip but Meklar appointed a new, young and strong Guardian called Gideon, who could control the enfeebled Millar. Eventually, after being stranded on Anglesey they found a home of sorts, with Olaf Gunderson and The Norsemen, on Ynys y Niwl, Llyn Isaf.
As the power of The Vikings waned, Millar found himself marooned on the island with Gideon, his guardian. In this new world, that now sought peace over the chaos of warfare, he diminished as time passed. Lord Meklar had presented Gideon with a Ruby ring that gave him certain powers over the souls taken by Millar. It was said this ring was a chip from a far more important stone, that went by the name of “The Tears of Taklamakan.” The Guardian’s ring would glow if the Motherstone, was close by.
Essentially correct and as the years slowly passed, the saga gradually became a folk tale and then during the middle ages, was slowly forgotten. For several hundreds of years, nobody ever mentioned the old tale, in the face of the rising tide of Christianity.
I feel, that I must make these notes for any Guardians who follow and stress again how important it is that Millar does not get control of the Tears.
Note 1: Millar’s and mine own ruby, are pieces of “The Tears of Taklamakan.” They transmit the thoughts and experiences of all the souls killed by Millar and buried on Ynys y Niwl. Millar feeds off those energy waves, in an attempt to escape the confines of this island. Our rubies are only sufficient in consort, to be able to furnish our world with their imaginings and experiences. Should Millar grasp the Tears for himself, then its power could set him free of this island, free of this realm and free of me. Should this come to pass I will be condemned to eternal purgatory and torture and Millar will be free to wreak havoc across dimensions and throughout time.
Note 2: In 1348, The Black Death arrived on the shore of the lake and after a long and prosperous period of calm, that event provided another glut of victims for The Pale One to exploit. With so many corpses piling up, pickings were easy to come by and Millar could take his time over regathering his strength. What had started with a scrap of flesh, soon became much more but like all the pestilences that had gone before it, the Black Death ran its course. Since then, as Guardian I have learnt that allowing Millar to feed when he wished, is not a good idea. It’s very important that you control this aspect of his hedonistic nature, for your own benefit.
Note 3: One thing, that I feel as though I must mention again, is the small matter of Wolves. Millar is terrified of them. He has, on several occasions, referred to them as “his nemesis.” Possibly useful knowledge but there have been no Wolves in Wales for hundreds of years, so I fear it’s hardly practical information.
The days are now growing short and the time is rushing by. I feel the chill of death on my shoulders and I am, alas, no nearer to finding a suitable replacement for my ancient stewardship. Over the time of my bondage, I have faithfully, if at times somewhat reluctantly served this entity, for both mine own and his personal benefit. Now, after all these years, my strength is failing and finding a fitting replacement, has now come to be a rather pressing issue. There are so few visitors to the house these days, that I fear my promise to Lord Meklar may not hold good, when I pass over. I dread the outcome should this come to pass.