Messages

Will be offline from the 4th to the 11th.

Legate,

We might begin again in earnest, if you wish.

One piece of advice, though: dismissing a third of the Accord from a meeting of vital interest is no way to begin our relationship.

And another: you will face critiques far worse than mine. Resilience is a virtue. Spite is not.

[The following note is left with Zenithar Abael.]

Zenithar,

Spellcraft is not this one's gift. But he is capable with arcane devices, and his knowledge of alchemical principles rivals the best of our Nadiri. He not only seeks to unmake the djinn with the rigor of our science, but has dutifully reported on the Rose's doings in Hufaidh.

See if you cannot make an exception here. We are in need of apprentices, and he is of a useful stripe.

[The letter is received...]

You're a dogged sort, aren't you?

Many are the steps to the Mount, but the climb is in plain view. You need only ascend them.

We'll be expecting you.

Signore Grimes,

Many are the waters you cross of late. Call for me on the Mount and we will have words.

Let us speak soon of what you see in them, then.

The truth shines. You will not find it there.

But there is something else you might do for me.

Sephoni,

I do not doubt the purity of your intent. It is a gift, and the Dome's currents move you as they will. Yet I must warn you - not every wind that stirs within it is gentle. Some draw the unwary into deeper waters than they ever sought to swim.

You say the Sisters are but a source of learning. Perhaps. But as their wine is not merely drink, so too are their visions no mere lessons. They are a root that winds into mind and soul. Few who sip from their cups recall the moment they ceased to be their own. Their charity is a mask, and their mysteries, once tasted, will not let go.

You may claim that it is not our place to contemplate the divine, but what I have seen is beyond liturgy. The Dome does not merely encompass our Disc; it strains to uphold it. The veil trembles in these times of Ash, and without it there is only starlight, bent to starlight, bent to angles. Should it shatter, those who dared not look above will be the first to fall.

There are even some who seek such an end for us.

If you must walk among the Sisters, do so warily. Theirs is not the voice of Sages, just the croaking of Ages long forgotten.

I pray you will remember this.

Most Revered Sephoni,

Word has reached me that the Sibylline have extended their invitation to you. But be warned that your path, if joined with theirs, will be lost to the Ages.

The Sisters are no strangers to generosity. I will not deny their alms or the comfort they bring to the dispossessed. Yet their charity is not unclouded. Their sacred wine - the crimson Drink - compels its imbiber in more ways than one. I have seen its effects: visions, si, but also a slow corrosion of the mind. Cloaked in ritual, the substance precipitates enthrallment. Any revelations promised of it are not freely given, but rather hoarded, measured, and wielded to ensnare those who come seeking truth.

Perhaps you wonder why they seek a priestess of Santina while clinging to their Spokes. Do not be fooled. Their piety is an illusion. You are prized not for your kindness, but because they covet our people's worship. They would pour all your heart's wisdom into their gilded chalice until it is no longer your own, but wholly theirs.

Consider this: the Dome itself shelters us, yet even its light is refracted, bent into truths that must be carefully discerned. Indeed, Q'tolip's science has revealed that the stars are not only echoes of our Sages, as the Pilot-Priests claim, but intelligences all their own. Some are benevolent, others are of terrible omen. Still more are strange and indifferent to us. All hold away over our lives below. 

How alike to these stars are we mortals: some tending toward harmony, others to discord. The Sisterhood is such a flame - bright to the eye, but their brilliance conceals an aberration that bends the course of souls to their own design.

Your compassion is obvious. You are of Santina's line, and none may question your dedication to healing and succor. But must your light be set in their lamp? The Rose's works are not yours to duplicate; you are already their superior in sincerity and purity of intent. Should you join them, your deeds will be praised, but entangled in vines that bind more tightly than chains.

Sephoni, I ask of you: remain apart from them. Guard your freedom well, that your labors are not twisted to hidden ends.

Should you ever wish, I will share with you what I have learned. Not visions forced from a cup, but truths about the Illuminations themselves.

Tread carefully.

Good night sweet prince.

Will be away on vacation from the 3rd to the 15th.

Seconded. This would be great.

I deeply enjoyed being accessory to the mad Nadiri's crimes. Truly orbed and lore-pilled.

Out from Friday the 18th to Monday the 21st.

[The Commentaries of Manos Cosmatos]

The Commentaries of Manos Cosmatos

In the light of Ysium äe Rued's enduring wisdom, we find ourselves in our late Age — an Age where the laws of the stars, once understood in purely metaphysical terms, have begun to crack and reveal their true nature. We must now contend with anomalies that defy the accepted paradigms of our cosmology, ripples in the fabric of space and time that blur the line between the metaphorical and the literal. These abnormalities, I believe, are the true meaning of the Parable's message, brought to life in our very midst. This is no longer just a story of spiritual wonder; it is a direct interaction with the very structure of existence.

Ysium's meditation that "the stars mirror our souls" must be expanded, for the stars do not merely reflect our inner selves — they are the gateways to other selves. To other worlds. Encounters with these elusive permutations — often mistaken for visions or hallucinations by those who have experienced them — are, in fact, parallel worlds bleeding into our own. They are physical manifestations of the Parable's teaching, revealing that the "Ten Thousand Discs" are not only a figurative journey through our universe, but a literal one. The Parable's protagonist, as he wanders from Disc to Disc, is not simply learning life lessons; he is stepping between worlds, at times treading so close to the edges betwixt them that he is able to catch glimpses of other lives, other realities.

As of the Imperial Year 7789, such glimpses have multiplied in prevalence across the Great Ash. Those who experience them describe contradictory versions of events: alternate futures, alternate pasts — fragments of possibilities, all of them coexisting at once, yet none fully realized. These subjects are left with a sense of strain upon their minds, as if something attempted to break through their narrow perception of reality.

In these glimpses, I see not a simple distortion of the natural order, but an invitation to something more. An encounter with other worlds, while harrowing, offers us an awe-inspiring look into what Ysium referred to as "the eternal cycle of existence." It suggests that the possibilities we perceive as distinct — our own lives included — are in constant flux, brushing against one another in ways we do not fully comprehend. Perhaps this is a chance for us to live out the story of the Parable itself — to learn of the places where one Disc overlaps another, where the boundary between present and future is thinner than we had ever imagined.

Some would argue that such disturbances are harbingers of doom. That the collision of worlds threatens to unravel the fragile balance of our lives. But while such encounters present irrefutable danger, I would urge you to consider the opposite. These moments of revelation, though disorienting, may be a profound gift. That feeling of pressure upon the mind, the sensation of being drawn toward an infinite corridor, is not an intrusion, but an invitation to transcend the boundaries of our own lives.

We have long been confined by the limits of our dying Disc. But in this Age, we are reminded that there is more — far more — than what we can see and touch. The stars, as Ysium suggested, are mirrors of ourselves, but they are also doorways to other truths, other possibilities. The Parable is not just a philosophical allegory; it is actuality. The traveler, the one who seeks to understand, is wandering not only through his own life, but across an infinite number of lives, each one reflecting a piece of the greater whole.

What, then, does this mean for us, for we who still cling to the old ways of storytelling and communal wisdom? We must now look not just within, as Ysium suggested, but outward — toward the stars that surround us. We must recognize that our lives are not isolated; they are part of a spectrum that stretches across space and time. And perhaps, with time and great wisdom, we will learn to traverse this spectrum as the wanderer does in the Parable — not just in our minds, but with our own two feet.

The Parable and its manifestations continue to challenge us, confuse us, and stretch the limits of our understanding. But in our confusion, there is also clarity: we are not alone. Our world is one of many, and the sky above us is a doorway to infinite possibilities. The Parable of Ten Thousand Discs is no longer a myth. It is a prophecy — and we, the wanderers, are only beginning to step through the door.