A black-and-white book

[Mymerian]

Who am I writing this for?

I am tired. My headaches are getting worse. I feel often as a sleepwalker.
What is the purpose? I know the answer, yet the question keeps returning to me.
There is a pressure on my skull. There is a white noise within it, constant. My eyes hurt.

Ser Lyon is a coward, they say. Little more than a ghost, hiding in a cave in the swamps.
Are they wrong?

The ritual seemed to be a success. But was it? I set out to conquer an illusion. But was that conquest itself an illusion? The strange words within the strange books are pouring into this world now.
They have been released and they cannot be taken back. And they have begun to alter this world. What is the spell that is being woven, and who is casting it?
The spell must be completed, the mirror must be vanquished utterly. I must prepare another ritual.

Camedyr. Gwenllian. Madilyn. Are they little more than fools, and have I been a fool to walk among them? Camedyr is a good man. But what is his destiny?

I feel alone, isolated, cut off. I feel a darkness surrounding me, held at bay only by starlight. Queen of Heaven, if only I could attend your court! If only I could be an angel at your side.

My family. My home. I have been ignoring their cries for too long. I must see them. I must see what has happened to the Diocese.
Is my brother still alive? Will he understand why I went to the Outer Rings instead of coming home?
Will he forgive me for not being there?
Will I forgive myself?

Moonspear. Haremarch. Am I making the right choices?

Am I lost?


What is Dunwarren?

[Mymerian]

What is doubt?

Is it a poison, clouding the mind and breaking the will? Or is it intuition, first among the seer's instruments?

Is it illusion or divination?
Is it from below or from on high?
Or is it some third thing?

[Mymerian]

Nightmares Terrifying dreams every night. Barely any sleep. Always the same. The Moon and the Sun in a dance of death, colliding. A terrible roar. The eyes of a dragon staring at me. I wake up sweating, shaking, my ears ringing. At day, my head feels close to breaking. How much more can I take?

My prayers have been answered. But what does this answer mean?

The Desert of Ash. The Last Keep.

One king dead. One king lost. One king waiting. One king reaching.

The Knave was right. Death, grief, vengeance. Every turn of the wheel crushes someone, and leaves someone mad with sorrow and anger.

Grist for the mill of confusion.

I need to see my brother.

[Mymerian]

A breakthrough! Has my faith been rewarded? Is this the miracle I dared not even pray for? But I should not get ahead of myself. This will not be easy. Indeed, it will be the most difficult and dangerous thing I have ever done. It may claim my life. But it must be done and I do it gladly. This could turn the tide. This could save the City. This could change everything. The Castle, the Crown, the Kingdom itself. Suddenly, everything seems to be in reach. Harlan is not wrong: such are the wages of patience and subtlety. I wonder if perhaps I will look back upon this page one day and shake my head. Perhaps. But for now, I must indulge in this brief moment of hope.

Until I can proceed, I must keep my eyes about me. The shadows thicken; the serpents slither, and their fangs are sharp. Hale in particular troubles me. The shadow has seeped far into her, and I fear what dark designs her mask conceals.

[Mymerian]

[Mymerian]

[Mymerian]

There is a man who keeps saying Ser Lyon is not real. That he does not exist. Because he is never seen.
Of course he exists.
I have seen him many times. I have known him for many years.
If he does not exist, what is he - a dream? A ghost of the Mist?
If he were not real, then who gave me the Compass?
If he were not real, who have I been serving all these years?
If he were not real, who is it I sacrificed my youth, my family, my home for?
Of course he exists. It is his father that does not exist.
Such words of madness are spoken all too easily. The delirious poison of confusion is breathed all too easily into the atmosphere.
But in one sense these doubters are correct - a man who has not yet attained his destiny is but a shadow of himself, a ghost of himself, a sleeper who dreams of himself.
The time is coming for my liege to awaken.
The War of Succession has not yet begun. But when it comes, like a mighty peal of thunder, it shall break the Kingdom's bands of sleep asunder.

[Mymerian]

[Mymerian]

On the other side of the ocean: a realm that was. A realm of shadow.
From the shadows, a monster: from the past, a future; from the Isles, a Crown.

Four worlds: one ABOVE, one BELOW, one AROUND - and one BEYOND.

Four demons of Ymph; one dead and without a head.

The Mist is the Mist.

The Count is not the Count. The Tablets are buried.

The Sun is not the Sun.

The Past is not the Past.

What is the truth of Alemander Sharboneth?

Who watches the Wyrm?

What is the Completion of Dunwarren?

WHY DID THE OLD WORLD END?

HOW DID SHE KINDLE UP THE SUN?

The Red Friar was not alone. There must be others. They must be found.

[Mymerian]

If you have found this journal, is likely that my physical body has been destroyed.
It is likely that you are one of Senuspur's men, and that you think to report your seeming success to the Ruby Court.
But you will be disappointed.

Know that I,
Ixpadia II Sabuth,
am an Angel of Mist.
I cannot truly be destroyed, any more than the past itself can.
The past can be locked away, but it can never be vanquished and never altered.
I exist beyond the confines of time and space. I exist between and across worlds.
I am outside and inside, above and below, within and without.
I am Wyrmwatcher. I am Kingmaker. I am Sunslayer.
My Soul is the Stars. My Mind is the Moon.
I am SA'I.

[Mymerian]

Did I make the right choice? I know how much is at stake. It is true that next to the fate of everything, and the survival of everyone, a single man's life, or free will, or even those of a dozen, weigh little in comparison.

But it is wrong to kill a man. It is wrong to enslave a man. It is wrong because every man is an abode of God; every man carries a shard of Heaven; every man is a vessel of Starlight. To violate someone capable of Reason is to desecrate a holy shrine.

Such desperate measures can only be allowed, of others and of oneself, in the utmost emergency, and when it truly is the immediate and certain difference between victory or defeat in a holy war.

And there is a difference between necessity and expediency.

The power I was offered was expedient, but it was not necessary.

And yet the friar's words echo with truth. In the hour of emergency, it is often too late to act decisively. And to be scrupulous is to be ushered into desperation by a ruthless foe.

In saving my soul, have I doomed my cause?

No. That cannot be. For as long as I retain the mandate of Heaven, I cannot be defeated.

My conscience is clear and my honor intact, and these things are more powerful weapons than any slave, or blade, or unholy favor.

I was right to turn them down. And I must place my faith in Heaven once again, that Providence shall avail me.

[Mymerian]

I will not dance to your tune, conductor.

[Mymerian]

ICTH SHTAH NICH TOHT MAH ROHK EHT SAR

[Mymerian]

Lone was I there, yea, all lonely;
To my fellow-lodgers a stranger.

However I saw there a noble,
From out of the Dawn-land my kinsman,

A young man fair and well favoured,
Son of Grandees; he came and he joined me.

I made him my chosen companion,
A comrade, for sharing my wares with.

He warned me against the Awoken,
'Gainst mixing with the unclean ones.

For I had clothed me as they were,
That they might not guess I had come

From afar to take off the Pearl,
And so rouse the Serpent against me.

But from some occasion or other
They learned I was not of their country.

With their wiles they made my acquaintance;
Yea, they gave me their victuals to eat.

I forgot that I was a King's daughter,
And became a slave to their king.

I forgot all concerning the Pearl
For which my Parents had sent me;

And from the weight of their victuals
I sank down into a deep sleep.

[Mymerian]

Alezabaal