Book of Phaedra

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

[A Kulamite religious text that is beginning to accumulate haphazard notes between the margins]

Shepherding spiders is easy. Shepherding elves is not. Why do they always fight each other? Why fall to blasphemy? We are loved by Her. We should bloom and purge the land of wicked things. Feed the ground with the blood of the Enemy, not elves.

Now I have two elves that want to murder three elves because they were tricked by a goblin. Dark blasphemy. May have to excommunicate elves from Her Grace if they try to do vile elfslaying.

One day I will have a damp warren and not have to think on these things. At least the spiders understand.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

Another holy vision! I must have a home in Ephia's Well. There will be sanctuary and growth even if they are tricked by evil Enemy. The Cloud will Gather!

I have made some friends that are not of the blood here. I hope they will understand and cherish the great things we bring!

Some still love goblin though. They did not see how she was already lost. Betrayed. I was too sweet and not fierce, but the others kept me steady. They did what was needed, and though it causes trouble for me, I am proud of them.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

Vellyn may be a traitor to the blood. For many days I thought she would be a leading light for us. The more she speaks, the more she shuns us. Her refusal to speak with us and hear truth tells all.

I will extend the love of Kula one more time before She withdraws her blessing forever. Woe to the excommunicated.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

I failed her.

I hate that the humans were right.

There is no easy way. Each path leads to blasphemy.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

The vast designs of the Enemy surround. Only the faithful seem to understand the threat. The work continues. More carrion for the Garden.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

The Enemy is ever crafty and trying to take my mind. Before it does. I will write these words. I will read them when I doubt or I feel different. If I feel love for the bottle. It is the hated Enemy. If I desire the bottle to do anything but destroy, it is the Enemy. I do not trust my thoughts. I do not trust myself. Only this paper. Only this writing. Marked in my blood. Truth.

The Bottles must be sacrificed to Kula. They must be gathered. Then destroyed. I do not love the bottle. I hate the bottle. I hate the djinn. They broke this world. I will see the Garden bloom. The elves will rise.

[IKeepForgettingMyUserName]

This Enemy is far stronger than any I have seen before. Wicked and foul and terrible in its awful majesty. To think that the world could descend further from the Glory that was.

The course is set. I will break it or I will feed the Garden. There is no other choice. This is the price of being a true elf.

Kula. Show me the way.