Truth and reality, while often found complimenting each other, are very separate monsters. This observation is usually made apparent when your life becomes shattered and displaced, and before you can fit the pieces back together, you realize that you're on another plane of existence. You will then realize, like I did, that life is like a priceless vase: there will always be cracks when you piece it back together.

Anyway, the crushing reality is still with you, but the truth? The grandiose insult that comes with planeswalking is the lost sense of trueness you had with everything. You're a big walking lie, trying to make sense of it all, and there is a lot to make sense of. Those childhood tales are now trying to fillet you in some planes. Oh, and they can cast spells, too.

So, either you get power, or you run. I ran, since my chances of living were pretty embarrassing. I mean, I wasn't that bad, but the guys I were up against were ages older than me. I kept planeswalking for a good two months before I landed in a pretty, verdant, terrifying plane called Equus. That's where things got interesting.

My name is Adrolon, and I'm an emotionally-stunted-freak-of-nature going through an existential crisis. If you're reading this, the events in this journal are nothing more than a bad novel, I swear.

All story revisions, formats, literary constructs, etcetera were developed in accordance to Ezn's kickass writing guide, and the useful critique that you have provided, valued reader. Thank you.

[STORY IS UNDERGOING TOTAL REWRITE FOR THE N^TH TIME]