Γ 27
Ah-- I must apologize for yesterday; the City seems to have favored me with a repeat of a rather embarrassing curse. I'm sorry if I offended anyone.
I would like to ask, though, that whoever took the needler in my room return it; not that I plan to use the weapon. But it is not mine, and I owe it to the proper owner to take care of it.
I'm starting to feel more like myself-- or, perhaps I should say; I'm starting to remember what feeling like myself ought to feel like. Perhaps the so-called Deities' punishment is wearing thin. It's certainly a relief.
And now I find myself compelled to share some of these memories; a fitting curse, I think. It's a project I had intended to undertake before I was... well, before I began to lose my memory. So let me tell you something of my whorl.
To start with-- we have always simply called our whorl 'the Whorl,' thinking little of what might lay beyond it. The only other one we knew of was the Short-Sun Whorl-- a spherical whorl like this one, like the Earth from which so many of you come. No biochemical person alive has seen the Short-Sun Whorl, and though some chemical persons I have met recall it, they cannot do so clearly. I am not certain why; perhaps their memories, like ours, fade with time. Our Whorl was built there, by Two-Headed Pas, the god of mechanisms; he filled it with men and beasts and in that fashion we left the Short-Sun Whorl, under his guidance and protection.
My Whorl is cylindrical, and we live on the inside-- since, of course, we would fall off the outside. Our sun is not a bright disk that traverses a sky, as it is here-- rather there is a band of light, a great golden path stretching from Mainframe in the East to the end of the whorl in the West; and beyond that the Skylands, the other side of the whorl, more easily seen at night when the shade comes between us and the sun. There are no stars, no moon-- no sky above as there is here.
Beneath the ground there are tunnels, made by Great Pas when he made the whorl; and in them there are chambers, full of sleeping bios in glass tubes. There are places where one can go so deep beneath the ground that one may peer across the very belly of the Whorl-- and there I first saw the stars, the grand void spangled with sparks; a sight I can only begin to comprehend now, with all I have learned of astronomy in this City. The great gray plane of shiprock-- well, I digress; for I wished to tell you something of Viron, as well.
Viron is my home; it is the only city I have ever seen. We do not travel much between cities; there is some trade, of course-- rice from Palustria, beasts from Urbs-- but beyond that, little contact. I'm not certain how to describe it, if you have never seen it; the buildings are not sleek as they are here, made of metal and slick stone. They are rougher-- the older ones built by Pas himself of shiprock-- I should say, navislapis, and the newer ones of scavenged blocks from demolished structures, or rock from the subterranean tunnels, or-- in some places-- brick and wood. The city sprawls; the wealthier people live upon the Palatine, up the hill; the buildings and their occupants become rougher as you move away from it. To give you an idea of the size of the city-- the Chapter would like to maintain one manteion for every five thousand residents, and there are (or, I should say, there were, last I checked,) one hundred and seventeen manteions in operation. Of course, there are some empty quarters-- inhabited areas with no manteion-- and I suspect there are closer to seven or eight thousand residents for each manteion.
The Sun Street quarter, where my manteion is located, is one of the poorer parts of the city. Some among my congregation come from the Orilla, a nearby empty quarter, mostly populated by those who rarely seek the gods' blessing. Our buildings are set upon Sun Street itself, a broad avenue that runs East to West; and though there once were several others in the area, most of their Sacred Windows have broken down and the buildings have since been repurposed. And so we serve a surprisingly wide area of the City-- not what I expected when I graduated from the schola, but it has been a blessing.
I have three sibyls-- Maytera Rose, Maytera Marble, and Maytera Mint-- who assist me in my duties as an augur. I hold regular sacrifices each Scylsday for our congregation, reading from the Chrasmologic Writings and hoping some god will grace our Sacred Window with her or his presence. We also run a palaestra for the children of the quarter; I instruct them in religious matters, primarily, and the sibyls cover other subjects.
There are Nine principle gods to whom we offer our sacrifices. Great Pas, who built the Whorl, is their ruler. He is the god of mechanisms, of chems; he rules the weather, and is often portrayed as a windstorm, or a two-headed king. Birds of prey and cattle are sacred to him.
His consort is Ophidian Echidna, the ruler of fertility, to whom serpents and mice are sacred. She is the mother of the lesser gods, and it is she who demands that augurs and sibyls do not marry as lay people do; we sacrifice that comfort to her, and in return are permitted to gaze upon the visages of the divine when they appear in the Sacred Windows.
The seven days of the week are named for Pas and Echidna's seven children. The eldest is Scylla, goddess of lakes and rivers; she is portrayed with eight, ten, or twelve arms. Scylla is the patroness of Viron, responsible for founding both the city and the Chapter. Horses, camels, and fish are hers.
Marvelous Molpe is the second eldest, associated with music, song, and all light things; she is the goddess of art and dancing, patroness of songbirds and butterflies. She is also the protector of the mad.
Tartaros is the third child; god of night, patron of thieves and keeper of secrets. Black beasts of all kinds are his, as are those who thrive in darkness-- owls, bats, moles. Augurs wear robes of his sacred black so that we may walk unseen among the gods and overhear their conversations.
Hierax, the second son, is the god of death; carrion birds and beasts are his, as are black animals. He guides the dead to the Aureate Path, so that they may seek Mainframe, the home of the gods.
Thoughtful Thelxiepeia is the goddess of magic and knowledge, mysticism and poison; she provides the best protection against devils. Thelxiepeia is associated with poultry, apes, deer and monkeys.
Feasting Phaea is a goddess of plenty, full-figured and often depicted with swine. She is the ruler of agriculture, and of medicine; the sick pray to her for healing.
And finally, the youngest of the nine is Strong Sphigx, the goddess of war and of courage. And of strength, I should say. Cats are hers, lions in particular. She is a fierce goddess; distant, in a way, and strong.
I won't go into much depth as regards the lesser gods; not out of a lack of respect, but because for many of them there is little that can be said. Sixty-three gods are mentioned in the Writings; many of them are merely that-- mentioned, a name with perhaps one story. We know so little.
Chief among them, at least in my regard, is the Outsider; the only god of my whorl who I believe is in this one as well. He was our prime god on the Long Sun Whorl; or so I have been told, so it says in the Writings. I know less about him than I should. He is never represented-- the empty niche in the manteion is his, and the space beyond the whorl. He exists within and without the Whorl; unlike the Nine, and unlike all lesser gods.
...Goodness, I suppose I've said more than enough, though it feels as though I've managed to convey very little of Viron. If anyone has questions I'd be happy to answer them.
[ooc: asnjkasf. That and more info on the Whorl found here, in plain English. xD I know he's a little hard to comprehend sometimes, I hope this helps. ^^;; PS I AM SORRY THIS IS SO GODAWFUL LONG.]
I would like to ask, though, that whoever took the needler in my room return it; not that I plan to use the weapon. But it is not mine, and I owe it to the proper owner to take care of it.
I'm starting to feel more like myself-- or, perhaps I should say; I'm starting to remember what feeling like myself ought to feel like. Perhaps the so-called Deities' punishment is wearing thin. It's certainly a relief.
And now I find myself compelled to share some of these memories; a fitting curse, I think. It's a project I had intended to undertake before I was... well, before I began to lose my memory. So let me tell you something of my whorl.
To start with-- we have always simply called our whorl 'the Whorl,' thinking little of what might lay beyond it. The only other one we knew of was the Short-Sun Whorl-- a spherical whorl like this one, like the Earth from which so many of you come. No biochemical person alive has seen the Short-Sun Whorl, and though some chemical persons I have met recall it, they cannot do so clearly. I am not certain why; perhaps their memories, like ours, fade with time. Our Whorl was built there, by Two-Headed Pas, the god of mechanisms; he filled it with men and beasts and in that fashion we left the Short-Sun Whorl, under his guidance and protection.
My Whorl is cylindrical, and we live on the inside-- since, of course, we would fall off the outside. Our sun is not a bright disk that traverses a sky, as it is here-- rather there is a band of light, a great golden path stretching from Mainframe in the East to the end of the whorl in the West; and beyond that the Skylands, the other side of the whorl, more easily seen at night when the shade comes between us and the sun. There are no stars, no moon-- no sky above as there is here.
Beneath the ground there are tunnels, made by Great Pas when he made the whorl; and in them there are chambers, full of sleeping bios in glass tubes. There are places where one can go so deep beneath the ground that one may peer across the very belly of the Whorl-- and there I first saw the stars, the grand void spangled with sparks; a sight I can only begin to comprehend now, with all I have learned of astronomy in this City. The great gray plane of shiprock-- well, I digress; for I wished to tell you something of Viron, as well.
Viron is my home; it is the only city I have ever seen. We do not travel much between cities; there is some trade, of course-- rice from Palustria, beasts from Urbs-- but beyond that, little contact. I'm not certain how to describe it, if you have never seen it; the buildings are not sleek as they are here, made of metal and slick stone. They are rougher-- the older ones built by Pas himself of shiprock-- I should say, navislapis, and the newer ones of scavenged blocks from demolished structures, or rock from the subterranean tunnels, or-- in some places-- brick and wood. The city sprawls; the wealthier people live upon the Palatine, up the hill; the buildings and their occupants become rougher as you move away from it. To give you an idea of the size of the city-- the Chapter would like to maintain one manteion for every five thousand residents, and there are (or, I should say, there were, last I checked,) one hundred and seventeen manteions in operation. Of course, there are some empty quarters-- inhabited areas with no manteion-- and I suspect there are closer to seven or eight thousand residents for each manteion.
The Sun Street quarter, where my manteion is located, is one of the poorer parts of the city. Some among my congregation come from the Orilla, a nearby empty quarter, mostly populated by those who rarely seek the gods' blessing. Our buildings are set upon Sun Street itself, a broad avenue that runs East to West; and though there once were several others in the area, most of their Sacred Windows have broken down and the buildings have since been repurposed. And so we serve a surprisingly wide area of the City-- not what I expected when I graduated from the schola, but it has been a blessing.
I have three sibyls-- Maytera Rose, Maytera Marble, and Maytera Mint-- who assist me in my duties as an augur. I hold regular sacrifices each Scylsday for our congregation, reading from the Chrasmologic Writings and hoping some god will grace our Sacred Window with her or his presence. We also run a palaestra for the children of the quarter; I instruct them in religious matters, primarily, and the sibyls cover other subjects.
There are Nine principle gods to whom we offer our sacrifices. Great Pas, who built the Whorl, is their ruler. He is the god of mechanisms, of chems; he rules the weather, and is often portrayed as a windstorm, or a two-headed king. Birds of prey and cattle are sacred to him.
His consort is Ophidian Echidna, the ruler of fertility, to whom serpents and mice are sacred. She is the mother of the lesser gods, and it is she who demands that augurs and sibyls do not marry as lay people do; we sacrifice that comfort to her, and in return are permitted to gaze upon the visages of the divine when they appear in the Sacred Windows.
The seven days of the week are named for Pas and Echidna's seven children. The eldest is Scylla, goddess of lakes and rivers; she is portrayed with eight, ten, or twelve arms. Scylla is the patroness of Viron, responsible for founding both the city and the Chapter. Horses, camels, and fish are hers.
Marvelous Molpe is the second eldest, associated with music, song, and all light things; she is the goddess of art and dancing, patroness of songbirds and butterflies. She is also the protector of the mad.
Tartaros is the third child; god of night, patron of thieves and keeper of secrets. Black beasts of all kinds are his, as are those who thrive in darkness-- owls, bats, moles. Augurs wear robes of his sacred black so that we may walk unseen among the gods and overhear their conversations.
Hierax, the second son, is the god of death; carrion birds and beasts are his, as are black animals. He guides the dead to the Aureate Path, so that they may seek Mainframe, the home of the gods.
Thoughtful Thelxiepeia is the goddess of magic and knowledge, mysticism and poison; she provides the best protection against devils. Thelxiepeia is associated with poultry, apes, deer and monkeys.
Feasting Phaea is a goddess of plenty, full-figured and often depicted with swine. She is the ruler of agriculture, and of medicine; the sick pray to her for healing.
And finally, the youngest of the nine is Strong Sphigx, the goddess of war and of courage. And of strength, I should say. Cats are hers, lions in particular. She is a fierce goddess; distant, in a way, and strong.
I won't go into much depth as regards the lesser gods; not out of a lack of respect, but because for many of them there is little that can be said. Sixty-three gods are mentioned in the Writings; many of them are merely that-- mentioned, a name with perhaps one story. We know so little.
Chief among them, at least in my regard, is the Outsider; the only god of my whorl who I believe is in this one as well. He was our prime god on the Long Sun Whorl; or so I have been told, so it says in the Writings. I know less about him than I should. He is never represented-- the empty niche in the manteion is his, and the space beyond the whorl. He exists within and without the Whorl; unlike the Nine, and unlike all lesser gods.
...Goodness, I suppose I've said more than enough, though it feels as though I've managed to convey very little of Viron. If anyone has questions I'd be happy to answer them.
[ooc: asnjkasf. That and more info on the Whorl found here, in plain English. xD I know he's a little hard to comprehend sometimes, I hope this helps. ^^;; PS I AM SORRY THIS IS SO GODAWFUL LONG.]