Γ 33
[Private--Easy to hack;]
They all find their way here, or their echoes; they cannot come, themselves. Are they less real than I am, then? Less than He is, certainly; the only one I can trust, the unknown whose name is written everywhere I look. There are lines drawn between all whorls... I think I dreamed that once; three graceful points, and I stood at the apex-- no, I sketched them. But that is nonsense; and Horn was there, though I cannot remember what he said. Something of love, and inhumanity? Or love in the face of inhumanity; it doesn't matter. If I could recall what he said, I would try to tell him, when next I see him... but I suppose I won't remember anything of this place, when I leave.
Do they know what they have? Do they see the Outsider's hand outstretched, cradling their strange round little whorl, as I saw it crawling across that shiprock plane? Has he stopped them in their ball courts, arms outstretched? Or would the older boys have won, beneath that point of flame they call a sun?
My gods have come; if only within me.
Terrible Tartaros' darkness I have seen, a blessing on the thieves.
High Hierax's agony I have felt; and though I survived, nonetheless he has marked me.
Strong Sphigx's daughter has been my friend and savior.
Thoughtful Thelxiepeia's hand has touched my dreams.
Marvelous Molpe's madness has run rampant in the streets.
Fierce Phaea has healed me of my wounds; Feasting Phaea has sustained me.
Sparkling Scylla's waters encircle us.
Sometimes I wish I could shed them; all but the Outsider and Kypris, whose face I have seen. Who waits for me in the pool at Ermine's... No; I'm a fool, to speak that way. And yet, it is true, also.
And She came, these past weeks. I thought she came for me, to call me a traitor; dark and deep as her daughter. Echidna, I cannot be for you any longer; I won't beg forgiveness for I have not wronged you, though I will as soon as I may. The very moment. I have betrayed you in spirit, if not in body. I still recall falling, the wet red blood in the grass, and I cannot help but think it was the finest moment of my life.
Ophidian Echidna; I saw a face I thought was yours, but she showed more kindness than you could have. Dead Pas forgive you your crimes, Queen of the Whorl.
[/Private]
I'm sure some of you must have enjoyed yesterday immensely; I watched from my window, mostly, not wanting to get caught in the fray.
Though it bears mentioning that a lame man armed only with a staff can still chase off a surprising number of ill-advised armor-clad warriors in search of a flag.
Master Xiphias would be proud, I think.
I feel-- no, there are things men cannot know, things the gods don't whisper.
I find myself wondering, it it were her, would Hyacinth have liked it here?
They all find their way here, or their echoes; they cannot come, themselves. Are they less real than I am, then? Less than He is, certainly; the only one I can trust, the unknown whose name is written everywhere I look. There are lines drawn between all whorls... I think I dreamed that once; three graceful points, and I stood at the apex-- no, I sketched them. But that is nonsense; and Horn was there, though I cannot remember what he said. Something of love, and inhumanity? Or love in the face of inhumanity; it doesn't matter. If I could recall what he said, I would try to tell him, when next I see him... but I suppose I won't remember anything of this place, when I leave.
Do they know what they have? Do they see the Outsider's hand outstretched, cradling their strange round little whorl, as I saw it crawling across that shiprock plane? Has he stopped them in their ball courts, arms outstretched? Or would the older boys have won, beneath that point of flame they call a sun?
My gods have come; if only within me.
Terrible Tartaros' darkness I have seen, a blessing on the thieves.
High Hierax's agony I have felt; and though I survived, nonetheless he has marked me.
Strong Sphigx's daughter has been my friend and savior.
Thoughtful Thelxiepeia's hand has touched my dreams.
Marvelous Molpe's madness has run rampant in the streets.
Fierce Phaea has healed me of my wounds; Feasting Phaea has sustained me.
Sparkling Scylla's waters encircle us.
Sometimes I wish I could shed them; all but the Outsider and Kypris, whose face I have seen. Who waits for me in the pool at Ermine's... No; I'm a fool, to speak that way. And yet, it is true, also.
And She came, these past weeks. I thought she came for me, to call me a traitor; dark and deep as her daughter. Echidna, I cannot be for you any longer; I won't beg forgiveness for I have not wronged you, though I will as soon as I may. The very moment. I have betrayed you in spirit, if not in body. I still recall falling, the wet red blood in the grass, and I cannot help but think it was the finest moment of my life.
Ophidian Echidna; I saw a face I thought was yours, but she showed more kindness than you could have. Dead Pas forgive you your crimes, Queen of the Whorl.
[/Private]
I'm sure some of you must have enjoyed yesterday immensely; I watched from my window, mostly, not wanting to get caught in the fray.
Though it bears mentioning that a lame man armed only with a staff can still chase off a surprising number of ill-advised armor-clad warriors in search of a flag.
Master Xiphias would be proud, I think.
I feel-- no, there are things men cannot know, things the gods don't whisper.
I find myself wondering, it it were her, would Hyacinth have liked it here?