3. Burned Passages

Burned Passages


  • The passages are each contained on a single sheet or parchment, written in a language other than Common. There are many, and these are only some.

    _Caelisar, Celery. Sessa, Minty. Havon, Wasp? Rhiain, Mouse. These I know. To amuse myself, I will contrive more.

    Nicahh, an owl, for she is wise and learned, but an animal of the night at heart. Quiet and calm, her actions are not wasted, and she is capable of independence.

    Dietrick, a dog, as he is dependable, if a little bit simple and quick to bark at shadows. Also quick to bite when an offender threatens something dear to or valued by him.

    Pink, a moth, for she will flutter about, creating a spectacle, but monochrome, and she will inspire you to swat her, being eternally and persistently consuming, until she stops twitching. Unlike a butterfly, she is not beautiful and colorful, but she resembles the shrunken shell of one.

    Garviel, the raven, as he is quiet and in control. Wise, but not unwilling to feed on the sick and carrion. A reluctant and withdrawn individual, he is nevertheless highly aware.

    Rico, a monkey, as he is eager to involve himself in whatever crosses his path, and unsubtle and rude in his displeasure, placing high importance on himself and whatever his current task may be. He jumps for the highest trees, but is ultimately small and pitiful.

    Kitten, a hummingbird, charismatic and physically beautiful, though she is loud and hurts my ears when she draws near, being easy and distinctive to detect.

    Caldor, fittingly, is a rat, for he has a certain detestable charisma about him. That he seems like a mild scum actually causes him to be liked to a certain degree. I can easily imagine him crawling into my house to steal and devour something petty of mine, but as it is a petty thing, I do not think I would mind it, and even encourage the act for amusement. But his bite could be deadly, being potentially festering and poisonous.

    Saria, a frog, being a generally unpleasant thing to behold, and dull, croaking, of speech. However, there may be hidden wisdom in this simplicity, or perhaps the simplicity is only perceived by virtue of her apparent apathy towards most things. She faces danger with a dull-eyed stare, though whether this is due to simplicity or discipline is in question.

    Vash't, and I am sure he would revel to hear this, I would place as a male wolf, due to his tendency to tend to others, however roughly he does it. And indeed, he has a rough side, as the alpha male typically does, tending to growl and froth at those who he perceives as his lupine charges when things go wrong. Ultimately, a respectable creature, able to command his pack, showing both a rough and a nurturing side.

    Rith, the skunk. Physically a very charming creature, and capable of being a cute and sweet thing, but prone to reacting with a wretched stench and offensive, burning attack to the eyes when she perceives herself, be it her values or her actual person, to be under attack in some way. A darling thing who is easily provoked, with a defense mechanism which I consider distasteful.

    Ronan, a lion, whose intentions are very clear and simple, and likely inclined for the good of the pride, but whose methods are unpleasant at best. Those who are among his pride receive decent treatment. Those who are not, or those who are, but threaten his position, ego, or values are treated with a condescending smugness. When his wrath is unleashed, it is best to be out of his way, for carcasses will be torn and strewn in his wake.

    Wand, I consider to be a crow, eager to pick at the dead, readily flocking with others like him in order to more efficiently feast on whatever must be fed upon to survive, in whatever way, in whatever circumstance. A cunning thing, black, though I believe that within him is greed and the desire to feed, rather than a raven's lonely wisdom.

    Val, the mare, graceful, powerful, and precious, though beautiful in a rough way. She seems at home alone, but shines when in the company of her herd, enhancing its worth.

    Daveth, the ass - the equine sort. Ridiculed and regarded as a joke by many, he is nevertheless a relatively reliable, honest sort of creature of much use. He approaches the treacherous nature of life with the stubbornness and persistence of a donkey, indeed.

    I suppose I could go on, but I am satisfied for now. Looking back, I am sure most of these individuals would complain over these descriptions. Oh well, they'll never read them, anyway._


  • _Ah, life, full of surprises. A daughter has come to me, much to my surprise - one might even say shock. I brought her to Norwick and house her now in Thorn's office, where I sit and write and burn this now. The penning is a welcome break from sewing, and in my age I suspect I have become more haggard and less nimble. To think I should spend my time stitching together dresses instead of establishing The School or surveying the unlawful in this town.

    But this is indeed what I want. In my haste I named her Rissu, though I suppose my haste is wise enough to decide a name. However it is hardly as I planned. When Haa left she must have been with child. But how fitting it is that she would return my child, which bears my sister's own name, to me me in such a grand prank as I would expect my own sister to have planned it. But Haa is not stupid; either she trusted in my competence to find the child or cared enough to oversee the location herself in the event that I did not come. Ah, but I came. I came and now I have a daughter.

    Still, the issue of being a single parent plagues me, as I had planned to have a trusted partner in the venture. Though certainly I seem to have assistance. Curiously enough, I am not concerned with the variety of audiences Rissu will be having, or rather I do not fear their infecting her with their views - in fact, I welcome the diversity. It should help simulate the resources I had available to me - in addition to my own knowledge it will enable her to become better than I am.

    But I do sadly expect some measure of mental infection, in that some individuals in this community will channel their biases against me into an effort to undermine me as a father. Among those potential corruptors I can only yet count one - though if she is as genuine as her demeanour suggests, she will make no such attempts at undermining me. Of course, if she is genuine. And her petty history of withholding from me information that may determine my livelihood predisposes me against her.

    Still, I suspect that, even if she should pit herself against me in a battle for my child's mind, her companions will not necessarily support her - not, they have better sense. My recent encounters with Rith seem to reinforce my good suspicions.

    That woman is eerily in agreement with me. More, I suspect, than she knows, and likely more than she would be comfortable with. But I am glad that my original assessment of her was wrong. The only regret I feel is that her god is Lathander instead of Amaunator. I find there to be some measure of evil inherent in being associated with the god behind the Dawn Cataclysm. But so long as it is understood. I suspect on a hunch however that it is not.

    And it is certainly disturbing that Rith has discovered and come to understand the scars of my twenty feminine years. Luckily it seems that she has not understood them with much accuracy, though she must have now abandoned the possibility of my being a eunuch in light of the evidence to the contrary that is my daughter.

    In summary, I am surprised by my peers, largely. A child seems to be infectious of others in its joy and awe. Indeed, everything is a surprise to such a creature, and perhaps it is empathy - or envy– of that early state which inspires such strong positive emotions in those people. I am glad I chose Norwick. Here are minds which can be educated, rather than Oscura's: blind, it seems, by greed and pettiness. Funny irony, that, Oscura being intolerant of mind.

    On the subject of Rissu herself, I am not reconsidering all of my original plans. I must adjust these plans to this new context, and consider the matter of logistics. I want to raise her - I do not want her to become like so many who were raised in an orphanage, confused and expecting in their later lives a certain unreasonable measure of attention and dependence as a result of their upbringing. To allow that would be to sully the gift I and my daughter have been given by our creator. Yet I will need these various resources if I am to give her the widest range of opportunity to follow her desires.

    It will be a compromise.

    For now, I am content with having her play with this miniature platinum sword._


  • _Rissu desired to play and prank. This can be a complex exercise to strengthen and expand the mind, even if the pranks themselves are arbitrary.

    For all things there is a consequence. So long as one accepts the consequence, and is aware of what they have done and the affect that it will have, they should do as is their wont. However, that does not mean that the consequences will suddenly fade. It means simply that one may look into the eye of Hoar as he delivers one's just desserts.

    Knowledge and the mind are key tools in life. To teach is to learn, and to spread the truth is the greateest act of honesty and selflessness, for it reminds us that we are all fundamentally the same, and so we are on equal ground.

    Blindness is the core trait of the petty. To be unaware and consequently unable to accept reality is to be a base animal. The eyes of the petty must be opened, and the unlearned made educated, that all may be thinking, competent individuals who are aware of the meaning and consequences of their actions - and so might think twice before acting out of dumb impulse.

    Selune is ancient and awesome, and we live upon her work. Her counterpart, however, is arbitrarily secretive and fearmongering. Should the two clash again, it would be best if Selune emerged victorious.

    Should the world fall into baseless chaos and destruction, our lives and all that exists would be wasted. We must be aware of and appreciate even that which is destroyed. But destruction itself - mindless chaos, lacks the capacity for appreciation. So we must trust in contemplative order, and protect against chaos.

    By living in society, we agree to a set of rules. Those who wish to fly in the face of these rules may do so, but they must be prepared to accept the consequences. These consequences are punishments of some sort administered by the rest of society, be they outright lashings or subtle changes in the way society regards those who break the rules. Without them, society is nothing, and without society, we are nothing. But we should not live in fear of punishment, but simply in consideration for the order laid before us, which we are a part of

    E - Consult Daveth, Haa, and Delorfith. They will be glad to help. Determine sort of prank based on victim(s). Preferably elaborate - do not settle for something dull and boring like an explosive in someone's pocket. Mind games only, within the law - eg. misleading someone to offer a woman who is - unbenownst to the victim, married - a gesture of romantic love.

    H - No friendly Hoarrans to be found here. I will have to investigate - make sure that the "victim" here is actually deserving of the vengeance. Go for complex. Arrange for a serial killer to die in the same manner that he kills. Catch a prankster in the act and turn their prank against them. Dole out poetic justice, but make sure that the victim is actually guilty.

    O - This may be cheating, but: erect the school. It is the perfect tribute to Oghma - and Savras as well, though I will only count it for the former.

    S - Uncover a mad Cyricist plot before it can take place, or something of the like. Reveal to a petty being their own pettiness.

    S - Simple enough already: arm a Selunite against Shar - or some other enchantment dedicated to Selune.

    H - I'm not sure on this one. Perhaps I might arm a Helmite, but that seems too redundant and too meaningless. I will find a Helmite and ask them.

    AT - Bring a criminal to proper justice._


  • There are no words on this parchment. Only a dream-like picture and a quiet, rumbling, croaking whisper.

    _A golden hue.

    A child plays in a field. A classic scene. The sun is high. A cliff's edge is near. She runs about, oblivious to the world. Oblivious to the concept of appreciation. She does not know appreciation, yet she appreciates. She does not know the meaning of joy, yet she feels it.

    Resentment.

    Her hair is long and black, but it shines with the golden sun. We are alone. There is nothing but us and this golden field of rye. Her happiness is primal and simple, yet it fills me with inexplicable joy. I must see it continue. I must see her play in the field until she stops playing and contemplates the crop. I must see her contemplate that until she considers the sky. And then I will turn and present the world - the real world - to her, for what it is.

    Longing.

    And when the world saddens her, I will tell her that she should…

    No. I will not tell her anything. I will only show her reality. I will be her book, but not her interpreter. Through reality she will learn that she is responsible for herself. She must decide, and she must come upon this decision alone.

    Questions.

    But why? Is it because of

    Yes. Acceptance.

    I cannot rest while others are ignorant. So I cannot rest. I can never rest. But I would rather live on teaching in this life and beyond than sit blissfully in a place of false tranquility. That is utter selfishness. As if there were not others suffering in a place removed from the comfortable home of the Gods: reality.

    But as much as their bliss sickens me, so long as they have accepted it - their selfishness and the suffering and ignorance of the living and dead both - then they may do as is their wont, and I will do the same. If she is like them, I can only hope that she has accepted it. If she is like me, I can only hope that she is not so solely because of me, but because she consciously decided to be so.

    The sun sets.

    A green hue.

    Betrayed again? She is grown. I cannot tell if she looks like her mother. I do not know her mother. I do not know if she is born. Or if she will be. But I see her in front of me. I can see it in her eyes. Her blade in me.

    She has lost sight. She can see me, but she has lost sight of what makes me, and what makes her, and anybody else. She has forgotten the purpose. It is not to gain power. It is to fulfill herself. Do not forget this. Do not forget.

    Have I forgotten?

    "Set an example." O' child your words are beautiful. I should set an example. Do I have what I need? Can I fulfill my wishes? If so, there is no need for more. More of it.

    That is it. My wishes are not something to be fulfilled. They are something to be worked toward. So long as I do this, I am at peace. Or I am more at peace than I would be. Perhaps. Perhaps.

    Still._


  • The words here are written in Elven, over several parchments.

    _So, recall the incident:

    You suggested that the Pixie be taken on her tour, hurriedly, before any trouble was caused. She hefted her wand at you, and you stepped back, uninterested in being magicked. She pressed forward and crashed deliberately into you. So you wanted her that you would swat_, the word "at" is crossed out here, and a notation above reads, "remember, honesty," _her if she persisted. She did. So you swatted. Then she paralyzed you, and turned you into a statue. That is justification enough.

    Petrification is no play. You know this, Havon, remember it well: You do not act unless action is warranted. Thus, you_, the word "are" is crossed out, _would have been completely in the right. For you are largely in the right, you may safely turn your cheek to insolence, for you have done no wrong but one thing.

    You gave warning that the offender, the aggressor, should be taken on her tour immediately, or you would duly respond to her attack.

    Having given this warning, you began to count, and it was at that point that, instead of leaving to be amused in a more benign fashion, the Pixie magicked you again. After being petrified again, she returned you to normal before attempting to put you to sleep.

    Following that, her recklessness caused the petrification of two others, as well as yourself, having been unaware of your immunity to such a charm. As promised, you continued your count upon being returned to flesh. You then delivered your retribution. The Pixie was ultimately unharmed. They left soon after.

    So you moved for the haven of the glen, but were intercepted by Thorn and the Pixie. Met with hostility and insolence, you insisted that she use her house for what it is. But you are a guest of Brendel's invitation, so you chose to continue to the glen and enjoy peace there.

    She intercepted you again and demanded an apology. You refused her this, for_, again, there is a bit crossed off, this time, "she was," _you did not consider her to be in the right to be demanding apologies. But one apology from yourself was due, though not to her, but to yourself and your order.

    So you gave it, having reacted overly much, though provoked. It was received with little gratitude. You were chided for responding to "play," though harmful, with intended harm yourself. Harm was not the answer, nor is violence ever, but for rare exceptions, justified.

    You will conclude: the Pixie was the aggressor, and in the denoument, a malicious trickster for her defense, lying and misleading, and abusing her position and the perceptions others have of her. But this aside, however petty a creature she might be, and perhaps for the reason that she is so petty, retribution against her was and is unworthy. Such Pixies will not learn lessons. You do.

    Completion. Sorry, Hoar. You will have to let this one slide.

    Let this message burn, and your reflections be fulfilled._