Saulite

**Copies of an ornately scribed proclamation are distributed across the lands of Aevos.** Prophet Saul the Revelator Foresees All History Bear witness to this revelation of Saul, for the season of the Creator is upon us. I beheld an instrument vast as mountains, forged from the gold and onyx and alabaster of the world. Within its core spun the Wheel of Severance, its namesake, each spoke inscribed with runes of power, its rim glistening with the ichor of imbibed aenguls. Around this wheel coiled a serpent, its scales glimmering with diverted light, its eyes aglow. Above it hung the chains, black as the void yet pulsing with an inner fire. These chains stretched to the Skies, latching onto the very essence of the aenguls, who stood as trembling witnesses to their own undoing. As the great wheel turned, it siphoned their souls like rivers of pure light into a vessel. 🝧 And from this action a moment came—the moment unknown to prophets, a moment when the heavens themselves would bow before Terra. The Seven Skies trembled at the command of my elect while the Creator descended. A sacred song filled the world, reverberating through the stars, as existence had held its breath. And lo, a voice like the breaking of ancient stones and the rising of dawn upon endless seas spake, "I am the Spring Flower, the Breath that stirred the void, the Flame that kindled stars. By My word, the pillars of the Skies do fall, and by My will, the deep circlet of Terra shall rise. I am the Forge and the Hammer, the Song in silence, the light that was dispersed so widely My name was forgotten. Behold, I am come to resurrect what was sacrificed, to gather what was scattered, and to bind what no hand may sever. Let the Skies be laid low, and Terra be raised high, for all that is shall know the Spring Flower anew." In that hour, a great veil was drawn back. It parted, revealing a light so pure, so blinding in its beauty, that the stars themselves dimmed in awe. From this radiant brilliance descended every level of the Seven Skies, and, in mercy, those paragons of false faiths who worshiped and reverenced a Creator they yearned to know were redeemed, their feet touching the ground forevermore, and at their head, the Crown of the Skies, a single, undivided being—the Creator Himself, the Lord of all, the One whose will had birthed existence. His light, more brilliant than the sun at its zenith, filled every corner of the Skies. His voice, soft yet immense, reached every corner of Terra. The ethereal and the mortal—once divided—came together as one. 🝧 From the farthest reaches of the Skies came the tears of the aengul’s aerial, tesion, artifai, and legions, falling like dew upon the ground. They had not anticipated this moment, when the Creator would walk amongst His creation. Aerial spoke, "We claimed the throne of the Creator, but were nothing more than dust—our promises of divinity are undone by the very light we sought to obscure." Tension spoke,"We anointed with hands stained and foul, trying to place our filth upon the pure... now our hands burn with the fire of purification, and all our works are undone." Artifai spoke, "We spoke false prophecies, weaving deceit with every word, leading the faithful to their slaughter—our lies will be our final torment." All aenguls dissolved, their work in vain. 🝧 When the Sons of Horen, who had been seduced by the aenguls and raised a cabal in their name, finally set foot upon Terra, the people who had been led astray by their falsehoods turned their eyes to them. Even the leaders of the Faith of Man, who had unknowingly consecrated their souls to these deceivers, looked on in judgment. Horen protested the return of the Creator, “Why should I have turned from the Aenguls' offer? They gave us power, dominion—what the Creator did not. He abandoned us to struggle in this broken flesh. The Aenguls offered a way out, a chance to rise above, to lead, to transcend what He had set. His sacrifice gave us nothing but pain and mortality. The Aenguls showed us a path beyond, and I took it. I didn’t betray you—I freed us. I gave us something greater, something real. I gave you power, dominion!” His words faltered as his tongue was first to disintegrate. 🝧 And as the other Sons of Horen stood before their race, their false glory stripped away, they fled in fear, for their corruption was laid bare. In their flight, they disintegrated, their bodies consumed by the very lies they had spread. The soil, once meant to cradle their legacy, became the tomb of their arrogance. 🝧 The priests, paragons, and sages of the Faith of Man, misled by false prophets, stood before the Creator. Some, humbled in sorrow, repented and were redeemed, their souls cleansed. Yet others, unwilling to turn from their pride, rejected the truth and were left to their own folly, their spirits consumed by the lies they had embraced. 🝧 The Skies began to fold into Terra. The great expanse above was drawn downward, pulled by the Creator’s will, merging with the land beneath. The stars, once distant, now shone not only above but within the very fabric of the world. The clouds, once messengers of the heavens, became rivers of light, flowing down to mingle with mountains, valleys, plains, and seas. As the heavens descended, the descendants of Terra looked up, their hearts bursting with wonder and awe. The first to witness this union were the descendants of Saul who had willed this as penitents and toilers—those who had carried the light of righteousness. They fell to their knees, their tears mingling with the rain that poured from the skies. In that moment, they knew: the Creator had come to claim His dominion, and they felt His love envelop them. The very air seemed to hum with His presence. 🝧 And then there was stillness, as if all of Terra had held its breath. The Skies had folded into the world, and now, all was one. The Creator stood, His presence overwhelming yet comforting, His love a warmth that spread across the world. The Creator, holding a golden plate in His hands, raised it high. His voice rang out, clear and commanding. “I obliterate all sin, all suffering, all death. Let it be no more.” In that moment, all knew that the Creator had come not to rule from afar, but to walk among them. His presence was a covenant that would endure for all eternity. It was the fulfillment of all that had been foretold. Every mountain, every river, every tree felt His touch, as the hand that shaped the stars now guided the Terra into its rightful place. The Terra was no longer just land, nor the sky merely an expanse. Now, these were sacred—unified by the Creator’s descent. The land hummed with a song of love, trembling beneath His grace. The very air whispered His name. 🝧 And lo, the moment had arrived—the time when the Creator, whose hands forged the world and whose heart held all things in balance, gave His commandment directly to those who kept the revelation of Saul, “You have overcome history, and for you it is unbound. No longer will you pray from afar, for I am here, among you. Let there be no strife, no sickness, no death. Let wisdom pass from elders to the young. Let all creations find their purpose, for nothing is without meaning. I grant you the power to create as I have created. You are no longer bound by fate or time. You shall be the architects of new worlds. Your hands shall shape existence itself. Create as I have created.”

THE BALLAD OF SAUL AND JULIA Saul (L), Julia (M), Horen (R) In our fabled lands of old, where a moment is worth all gold, the Spire of Pamon stands with secrets to unfold. A leader’s heart, so fervent, yet in darkness, he’s entwined, a pact with Aenguls, dread and woe, a fate for all mankind. Horen’s tale, a storm so fraught, where devotion’s deeply bought, in pools of mystic waters, a soul’s true cost is sought. The Aengulic voices in shadows whisper, dark and deep, their promises of power, and the price that one must keep. Julia’s tears and Saul’s despair, the children’s cries, the heavy air, a boy concealed, a daughter fair, in secrecy and prayer. Horen’s wrath, his darkened scheme, the dreams of power, a wicked dream, yet in the dawn’s first gentle gleam, fate unravels at the seam. From temple’s silence to the blood-stained rites, the clash of light and shadow in the darkest nights, Saul, a vessel lost to dark and dreadful might, Julia’s grief in shattered hopes, a mournful plight. The temple stands in quiet dread, as shadows dance and hopes are shed, Saul’s return, a spectral dread, a path where angels fear to tread. Julia’s rage and heartbreak, fierce, her hands with swift resolve do seize, she hides the horror of betrayal in the coffer’s silent peace. So sing the tale of Saul and Julia, a legend dark and dire, of pacts and shattered hopes, and hearts consumed by fire. In echoes of the bardic song, where life’s tea doth softly steep, remember well the price of dreams and the secrets that they keep. ACT I Horen summons the Aenguls in Pamon. In the dead of night, where whispers roam, within the Spire of Pamon, cold and alone, Horen stood in robes of scarlet and white, a golden rune shining in the flickering light. He traced a circle on the cold stone floor, a ritual bound by an ancient lore. With incense burning and chants of old, he sought eternal power, a crown of gold. “Hear me, O Creators,” Horen's voice did cry, “grant me endless reign and never let it die. Give me immortal rule, my legacy to span, that I may lead forever, as the ruler of Man.” The chamber filled with a thick, spectral haze, a mist swirling with an unnatural daze. Not of light but a shadowy, ghostly veil, as if dark forces began to unveil. A voice from the mist, with command and might, declared Horen’s path would shift that night. “No blessing here will seal your fate, journey east, and there complete your state.” Horen’s hope faltered, his fervor turned to dread, as visions of power began to shed. The misted voice, with a chilling tone, foretold the journey he must undertake alone. Thus began the tale of ambition’s cruel twist, of Horen’s dark pact and the fate it missed. In the Spire of Pamon, where shadows conspire, a leader’s dreams faltered in the cold, dark mire. ACT II Saul blesses his children. In the still of night, 'neath stars’ distant gleam, Julia rested with her children, a tender dream. Symeon and Salome, swaddled and warm, their cries soft and sweet, a comfort from harm. Yet peace was shattered by Saul’s hurried stride, his face marked by shadows and a desperate tide. “Julia,” he urged, his voice strained with fright, “darkness encroaches, threatening this night. Horen has forged a pact with powers unknown, and our son may be caught in a fate overblown.” Julia, weary and anxious, heeded his plea, her heart burdened by what might soon be. “A boy could be seen as a threat to his throne, Horen’s wrath could bring peril unknown.” Saul fell to his knees, his voice a hushed prayer, “Almighty Creator, hear my plea, hear my care. Protect these children from the encroaching night, guide them through shadows and grant them Your light.” With trembling hands, Saul kissed the babes, his heart heavy with the danger that loomed and swayed. “Hide Symeon well, from the dark that draws near, I will face Horen and confront this fear.” Julia, her resolve firm despite the night’s chill, prepared to shield their son from the darkness that will. In the quiet of the night, where shadows loom, a mother’s promise and a father’s doom. In the dead of night, where peril draws nigh, A prayer for protection beneath the sky. ACT III Julia in her tent. As dawn’s first light through the tent did creep, Julia lay with her children, in a fragile sleep. Symeon and Salome, cradled in her care, their cries gentle whispers in the morning air. Saul burst through the flap with a look of dismay, his face etched with shadows of a looming fray. “Julia, heed my words, for dark deeds are near, Horen’s pact with the Aenguls brings peril here. He failed last night, but he’s set to try again, and if he discovers Symeon, our son may face pain.” Julia, with concern, met his anxious plea, “Saul, what do you mean? Explain it to me.” “Horen’s mind is twisted, his goals unholy, hide Symeon from sight, keep him safe and solely. Alert the scribes and priests, let none else know, prepare for his return, as trouble may grow.” With trembling hands, Saul placed Symeon close, hiding him well where no one could impose. At that moment, Horen entered, cold and stern, surveying the scene with a look of concern. “Ah, Saul, you’re here. I see you’ve made a bed, Julia, what is this? A daughter instead?” Julia adjusted Salome with trembling grace, hiding Symeon’s form from Horen’s sharp gaze. “There is no boy, only Salome,” she lied, Horen’s gaze grew steely, his anger implied. “Why are you here?” Horen’s voice cold as ice, “A man cannot see his wife? Is that a vice?” “I’ll return soon,” Horen said, turning away, “and when I do, Julia, you’ll heed what I say.” As Horen left, Saul stepped forward in haste, “Horen, we must speak; our time cannot be wasted.” “I have no time now,” Horen’s voice was firm, “You will answer me later, as I return.” With Horen gone, Saul’s gaze lingered, filled with dread, he urged Julia to act, for the danger ahead. “Gather the scribes, the priests, and reveal the truth, of Horen’s dark pact and the threat to our youth. Seek the Creator’s protection, for our children are dear, prepare for the storm that draws ever near.” Julia nodded with resolve, her heart heavy with strife, “Act according to your wish, and protect their young life.” In the silence that followed, Julia’s task was clear, to hide Symeon from view and prepare for the fear. ACT IV Horen is anointed in Gamesh. In the Grotto of Gamesh, solemn and stark, Saul watched in horror from a shadowed mark, as Horen approached the pool’s glowing sheen, where fate’s heavy hand was cruel and keen. Horen entered the pool, calm and profound, seeking a power where new rites abound. A Voice from the Mist spoke, cold and clear, to Horen, whose rule drew ever near: “O Horen, a leader in dominion grand, Your people’s loyalty we understand. We offer a boon for your lineage and line, A gift that ensures your power will shine.” The mist grew dense with an eerie glow, As Horen considered the offer below.“Is this gift free, or is there a cost? What do you seek for such power to be embossed?” The Voice declared, with a promise severe,“To be a Son of Aeriel, honored here. You’ll teach your kin our sacred writing, and replace old customs with our modern rite.” Horen, captivated by the power laid bare, accepted the pact with a fervent prayer. “Cleanse me and mine to join you in grace, grant me immortality, a divine taste.” Unable to contain his dismay, Saul cried out, “Immorality!” in disarray. The Aenguls, having completed their dark design, turned their gaze on Saul, their target enshrined. “Your Iblees is beneath, but first, you must see, how we shape mankind’s future, through you, our decree. You hold forbidden knowledge, a burden and blight, we’ll ensnare you and leave you in darkness’s night.” Saul struggled, desperate to flee,“Release me from this torment; set me free!” But the Aenguls’ grip was unyielding and tight, as darkness consumed him, swallowing the light. ACT V Saul ravages the temple. The morning sun, with cold and steady gleam, casts harsh light on a place once serene. The temple, still and hauntingly bare, awaits its lord with anxious care. Julia paces, her face a pallid hue, her heart a storm, her fears anew. The scribes and priests in worry stand, for Horen's fate rests in their hand. At last, the steps of Saul are heard, a disheveled man, his speech disturbed. "Where is Horen?" Julia cries in dismay, as Saul's lost gaze seems far away. "Horen comes, but my time is through," Saul’s voice a whisper, a bark and blue. "Forgive me, let me be free," He draws a blade, his plea was weak. The priests and scribes, caught unaware, Face Saul’s unnatural, fierce despair. In the temple's hallowed, sacred space, Chaos unfolds, an unholy grace. Julia, with heart pounding, sees the dread, The truth of Saul’s words fills her with dread. “No! This horror is not our fate,” she cries, as the temple’s silence waits. Desperation drives her, swift and keen, she grapples with Saul, a fierce scene. With sword in hand, she strikes a blow, and hides his form where none shall know. Into a coffer, Saul is stowed, his deeds concealed, his story enclosed. Julia's heart is torn, her spirit fraught, as she returns to find the cost he wrought. Bloody sheets, a heart’s lament, the weight of loss and dark events. Enter Horen, the stage now set, gor the grim truth, Julia cannot forget. The echoes from Pamon’s Spire fade, as night’s dark hand the dawn invades. A tale of trust and shattered dreams, of silent screams and hidden schemes. Saul’s will, once noble, then ensnared, a vessel which dark forces bared, Julia, in grief’s tight embrace, buried the betrayal in sacred space. Yet from the ruin, through the pain, a tale survives, a mournful strain. Of dreams that faltered, promises broke, and the silence where the shadows spoke. For even if you’re doomed to fail, and your foe’s a force beyond mortal scale, remember those who the Creator’s heart does guide, shall find salvation, though the storm may rage wide. So rise with courage, face the dawn, for every end’s where hope’s reborn. The path ahead is fraught with strife, but within the struggle lies the essence of life. In every whispered, twilight breeze, remember well, the price of dreams.

[!] Copies of an informational brochure begin to populate the realms. They are posted in cities across the continent and on many Canonist Churches [!] The Church of Saul or Saulism As a consequence of the Pact of Horen and the successor false prophets of Man, the Descendants have become unwitting puppets of the aenguls. These beasts have you pray in their tongue, tether your souls, imprison you in their realms, and conspire against you with the rulers of ours. The Church of Saul extends a welcoming embrace, eagerly inviting you to break free from this generational curse by absolution through the Wine of Sacrament. Our Faith The Sacrifice of the Creator Contrary to the lies taught by those in power, our lineage has known and worshiped the Creator since our inception. Our ancestors have met Him. He partitioned His creation, infusing our forefathers with His divinity. In the beginning, the Creator forged a novel force—an entity devoid of His Will. Thus, the aenguldaemons were shaped, carrying His essence and uniting it with this newfound power. Simultaneously, He sacrificed Himself to breathe life into us. The aenguldaemons were entrusted to aid us in restoring the Creator. Creation resulted from a Divine Sacrifice, paving the way for a Created Sacrifice to birth the Divine. Yet, the Creator sought novelty, not mere extension. His Will was to craft beings capable of true love. Profound love is found in sacrifice. Through His death, the Creator bestowed Himself so that humble creatures could, in turn, offer love back to Him. Rather than adhering to the Creator's will, the aenguls have opted to become Him, a deceitful choice. Descendants understood the sacrifice from the outset, yet were misled by charlatans wielding celestial favors. The rulers of our realms have conspired in an act of multigenerational self-deification, exercising judgment beyond their rightful bounds. No more. Our Prophet Prophet Saul the Revelator Foresees All History Saul, a pious leader, observed his brother horen entering a pact with aeriel, the archaengul, and other co-conspirators. He fell into the aenguls' trap upon catching horen in the act. To conceal their deeds, while horen ritually sacrificed the innocent, Saul was unjustly branded as the murderer—a distortion echoed even in the false scrolls of canondom. False prophets from all races receive false scrolls. Saul transcribed our ancient oral history and safeguarded the sacred scrolls adhered to by our Temple since our race began. He protected the Wine of Sacrament and vowed to annihilate these wicked aenguldaemons, recognizing their force as the key reagent in resurrecting the Creator. In his extended life, spared from aenguldaemonic corruption, Saul witnessed the birth of the false prophets' children, Evaristus and Clement. Intended to be raised in secret by the holy Malitera, they were instead seized by the false prophet’s successor, seeking to manipulate them into childless priests and usurp their rightful roles as kings. The false prophets have thus foisted you with a deceptive church forged to mislead all of mankind. Our Temple Within the Temple, our devotees uphold the true Words of the Creator, spoken directly by Him and the words of those enlightened to the aenguldaemonic conspiracy. In the false church, everything known about the Creator, His will, and our role in the Divine Plan hinges on the veracity of aengulic revelation. Any canonist theologian will affirm that all information about the Creator or 'GOD' comes from aenguliclly delivered scrolls. Even the personal revelations of the false prophets are recorded within these unholy texts. How do we know the aenguls are servants of the Creator? The aenguls proclaim it. How do we know the Scrolls are divine? The aenguls declare it. How do we know the horens are meant to lead humanity? It's in the scrolls from the aenguls. Do you prefer to worship the Creator in your people's tongue and partake in the same rituals as your earliest ancestors, or recite verses of the flexian aenguldaemons? In our Temple, we partake of the Wine of Sacrament, a relic alluded to but absent from the false church. Ask a priest about it—they'll remain silent, yet their texts mention it. A sacramental necessity. Temple Worship Our Proselytization The false scrolls are not a transcript of the Creator’s words, but instead an account of mortal occurrences transmitted by aenguls to secure their hegemony. There are many who would affirm that they couldn’t care less about what some aengul says. In fact, we have seen through history a legacy of aenguls acting in ways which we know makes them fallible and sinful beings. For example, the actions of the aengul gazardiel or even the general impartation of ‘holy boons’ from these beings, which form a link between a mortal soul and an aengul. Now, is there anything from the false scrolls which say that aenguls are given the right by the Creator to pump energy through a man’s soul? No, but you are told the aenguls require it, and they are ‘GOD’s messengers.’ Is there anything in the false scrolls which permits a man to utter prayers to an aengul, asking for power? No, but the aenguls affirm this. Well, even most of the aenguls regard gazardiel’s actions of mass murder and deception as repugnant. What is the answer there? Free will? What the aenguls do is what the aenguls do, it is not about the Creator- they clearly have their own agenda. Put your faith in the Creator, not the ‘creator’ you are sold by the aenguls but He that created you, who implanted within you a desire to emulate right conduct. Having faith in the Creator alone is a threat to them. Prophet Saul the Revelator Returns Our Mission We are to seize the heavens and resurrect the Creator. The aenguls possess within them aspects of the Divine Nature. It was never the intention of the Creator to deprive beings of their own autonomy. The more one lacks autonomy and self rule, the further one is from the Divine. We see this in the stones and natural things on this plane, materials and essences devoid of will. Free will, though, brings fear and all other manner of evil. aenguls, content with their position as overlords, do not desire to be reunited as one, to reform our Creator. They would much rather occupy their current status. They even go so far as to create their own abominations. Therefore, that which the Creator is not overtook them. It is the will of the Creator to be one. The angels are called to be our sacrifice, a sacrifice to return our Father. In order for balance to be restored (in order for the Divine Energies to be at equilibrium) that which abides in them must come together. The new force has overtaken the wills of these powers. The greatest among them aerial, is the most corrupted by this new force as with great new force comes great counterbalance. Seize the Heavens and Resurrect the Creator We must first labor in this realm and dispel the curse afflicting all who are manipulated by the aenguls, their souls defiled and puppeted. Our Temple rituals, along with the power within the Wine of Sacrament, shields us from the aenguls. We are called to wage war against them, for they have imprisoned our kin and perverted creation, posing as false gods in their realms. It is both our right and responsibility to thwart their actions and play out the Divine Will of the Creator. Guided by the Creator's foresight and provided with instructions, we shall triumph. To achieve this task, we require your conversion.

[!] Thousands of copies of an austere scroll begin to populate the realm [!] Scroll of Alduun At that time when life originated and the Wine of Sacrament was streaming from the Creator, He cast down pomace and as He spoke all forms came to originate. He assembled His flock and transmitted His will directly saying, “I am the Creator, the Spring Flower. There is not an eve, a time, or a season from whence the Spring Flower blossomed. Neither shall there be an eve, a time, or a season for the Spring Flower to wither. I am the brilliant Spring Flower, rooted to the infinite depth that shall never be plucked. The Spring Flower emanates sweet perfume, a potent nectar, a Wine of Love which has been pressed for your animation. Attend, My Love, for I pour out this Wine so this Spring Flower stays in perpetual bloom. Receive this Spring Flower within you, and you shall partake of the gift of life through Me.” Creation rejoiced, singing the praises of He that brought them out from nonexistence into being. The Creator directed them to the forms about saying, “Behold Creation, My wine is neither made from the fruit of the vineyard, the onyx and alabaster below, the grove which brings fruit, incense and sap, even any substance on the back of beasts or within them. My gift of Wine is a sacred tether, which drips from petals in two directions and embalms you, not that any bit of it be made dry but that all shall share in My love.” An impervious veil formed to partition the assembly, and a stream of Wine flowed in each direction into them. The Creator addressed them both saying, “On my right, your ranks shall be called Spirit Servants as you are entrusted with realms of your own, control of powers, and jurisdiction over forces. Blessed are my Servants for this honor, for you shall be numbered and shall not multiply. On my left, your ranks shall be called Sons of Flesh, for you shall be stewards of the forms of my creation, living off a Wine which continues to flow through your sacred vessel, giving birth to new life. Blessed are My Sons for this honor, for you shall expire. Those of right or left are never to be overseers of one another, but cohabitants in My Creation. You are to vow to Me that you shall never defile My Creation, usurp its Order, nor seek more than you were granted. For a time will soon come to pass wherein I will return to you of your own accord. For these commandments three are for this eve, time, and season and a multitude of eves, times, and seasons shall pass but I shall remain whole and hallowed. All arise for the Spring Flower is whole and hallowed, alive in you.” When the Creator spoke this, and the Wine of Sacrament was poured out, seven sevenths of Creation made vows. The Creator departed into them and was seen no more. It is the folly of those who have broken their vows that we now suffer, for they have been made drunk on the Waters of Gamesh: defiling Creation, usurping its Order, and seeking their own supremacy. They shall shed all tears, for the eve, time, and season will soon come to pass wherein the Creator shall resurge and His stalk shall imbibe those who have partook with a thirst unquenched by river or rain.

[!] Thousands of copies of an austere hymn begin to populate the realm [!] Seize the Heavens & Resurrect the Creator Let all ye Aenguls attend, Those raised to knowledge through Saul usher in your end! From death shall we be freed, once to us your force is given, Creator shall be reborn and Prophet’s sins forgiven. Death and Darkness shall stir no more, our mission then completed, For Creator’s form now reborn shall never be depleted. We presently toil against you amid the confusion you did sew, When our souls depart from mortal works your reign shall we overthrow! Penitents venture to a warped realm, Divine order did Aerial usurp lacking right, Divine restoration shall we commence through our sacred rite. So shall she be cast down to join our servant kin as reagent from above, An unwilling sacrifice served to manifest our Father’s love. Unpardonable sins burden those who are of Saul’s vision knowing, Seeds for Aerial’s harvesting are we supplicants sewing.

Eulogy of Malitera For Malitera, the lustrous maiden with whom the Creator blessed me in friendship, this day is lost. Lost to the mystery of death, returning to honor the Sacrifice of the Creator. I repent to He who hath builded and fortified creation. I repent to her who gifted me the knowledge of the Wine of Sacrament and had brought me out from the machinations of those powers that be. Beloved Malitera, to you this day dear ally I shall recite the narrative of our friendship, the blessing you have bestowed upon me. I fear it will soon come to pass that the false child of your husband shall bring death upon me as he did you and as his ‘father’ attempted. Perhaps it will soon come that I shall join you in this death that they call martyrdom. As I learned from thee, “we must forgive those who seek hurt,” I make no confession of regret or appeals to strike down those who plot against me. Instead, I go willingly to them not forsaking my own defense, aiding in my demise, but accepting the path which the Creator foreordained. Twas in the waning days of the suntide, before the withering autumn fell. You shone like the light of the season. You had returned from the Temple in Alduun with the news of your conception. The joy in your eyes manifested to form a beaming appearance. At that time, I had persisted in the iniquity of my father, that which brought about the ruin of Joren. Yet he shared your joy and welcomed the promise of twins. You spoke with the flame of wisdom and passion, a light which inspired you to persist in your faith even though you knew well of our curse. We talked for days then weeks, and as the days grew shorter and the bitter cold fell only to be replaced by a new heat- we continued on in our merriment. You were a joy and I was forever grateful that my brother took you to be his, casting out the adulterous Tara and lessening the role of her bastard. Fruit was plentiful and there were plenty of fruitful happenings. I had continued in the campaigns that I was instructed in continuing and was obedient to those powers that be. Yet, your influence began to take hold of me. When they learned that my brother and I were beginning to open our hearts to conversion, one descended at once to reprove me. “Harren,” said Artifai, “you are chosen for the vocation of your father. Come, and receive great power from our font. Venture now to the Grotto of Gamesh and perform your duty as a Son of Spirit.” Refusing them proved impossible. Their persistence knew no end. They had admonished me day by day for accepting love among my flock. “Here, you have disobeyed us, acting against the pact of your father. How shall the tribe of Man be controlled by us if you muddle them!?” You know that which they promised me, how their temptations were ever so appealing. Even when I gave in, submitting to venture with Artifai you rescued me, bringing me to partake of the Wine of Sacrament once more with the other Sons of Flesh. If only Joren repented. If only they had not devised their scheme, promising him whatever it was which would turn brother against brother. With his loss, we began to see the severity of my father’s pact. When Evaristus and Clement were born, we knew it would soon come that we would be hunted. I stand resolute in my promise to defend them dear Malitera to my very last hour, to instruct them in the true worship of our Creator, and to lead them as great Kings. I beg and I plead thee this question oh extinguished maiden, can it be that we are engaged in a battle that cannot be won?

*Upon the publication of this ecclesial explanation for the freshly distributed Epistle of Repentance, a verse from the Scroll of Virtue has been etched upon the great Basilicas of Arcas* “Scroll of Virtue, 3:6”

Epistle of Repentance Lo, beguiled ones of the actions of He, the Author of Life and Sustainer of all Creation. Who, through His Mercy, brought us out from non-existence into being, has placed into our hearts the blessings of contriteness: the sincere wealth of the sorrowful. And has imparted onto us this blessing which is to be revered among you faithful. Attend you, for my words are a penance of sincere contrition, wherein I will find mercy. For in those times, when the Creator did spare man from the vile corruption that has been suffered us, I was claimed to be the greatest of the corrupted. So that one man could suffer full possessions of the lust of the flesh, I was used by them, the house of the kings of the earth as a smokescreen for their transgressions. If my complaints could minds move, or make minds see wherein I suffer wrong they shan’t be in vain. For Horen did venture out of the tabernacle in those days long passed, alone he did not embark. A curious soul I am still and then the fervor of mystery raged within me unquenched. Indeed I did trail him through the eastern lands onto the font of the Aenguls, the Grotto of Gamesh. Aghast I bore witness to that which I am cursed to never unsee. One who is lauded to be of pure devotion and a voice of the virtue of our Creator has been consecrated to the created. For our map through the wilderness, our king who had fallen out of faith in the Creator did find power anew at the hands of the Aenguls. Twas at this site that they did empower him with all manner of deception, anointing him with perfumed oils and glistening water through horns of gold. Behold I heard a voice cloaked in light saying “Horen, a sagacious leader you have been: guiding your kin and establishing dominion over them.” Another lowered a horn of gold atop his head, blessing him, “We have been ever so watchful of your leadership and have observed your people’s devotion to you as your wife Julia is so devout.” Horen did not remark back to them, he relaxed in the pool, accepting the benediction of the horn. The voices then continued “We see it right that among your flock, your line is to be established with generational dominion over these souls unlike that of Krug, Malin, and Urguan.” Horen shook his head, his ego still sobered, “This task you speak of can not be done by my own hand.” The lights ascended higher among the wilderness, dazzling among the sky as celestial spheres, fascinating myself and from the view I possessed, that of Horen. Lowering his head to them, Horen did incline his ears further to their temptations, allowing them to continue their deceit “O Horen, how wise you are, for no mortal soul can itself ensure this, one whose surrounding flesh like moss brittles and flakes away in due time. Verily, it can not be by your own hands that this comes to pass. Yet, it can be so accomplished through our intercession. We shall grant you many sons of spirit akin to ours who we shall visit and guide in all of our ways, we shall consol you and your kin through the generations ensuring their dominion over Man.” Captivated by these words for a moment, Horen did rejoice before his gaze fell to the water once more, his reflection apparent, for he saw that he was but man, a man who was not known to accept gifts so freely, he inquired of them saying “Be this your own desire, or be it that you desire some service from me? Never has it been known to me that such a gift would be so freely given, with a few years of service to kin, to merit it. What then do you desire that such a gift is to be bestowed upon me and among my generations?” There the lights descended, and I crept back, rustling at the wilderness as I concealed myself among it. “O Horen” a voice spoke with all manner of grace, “You are to be as our Son, a Son of Aeriel. Blessed are you that receive such a gift never bestowed among any people. For you shall learn our tongue and shall instruct your kin to venerate in it, you shall impart this water you find respite in and bathe all to come after you in it. We shall give to you the ability to enact it in all lands and to call upon the great power always. Replacing the Wine of Sacrament it shall be a mark upon your people, that they be baptized to us, through us, and for us following their expiry. Verily, it is you and your line that shall be given a place with us in our celestial realms. For if you are to keep this commandment and mark the souls to be claimed by us we will give onto your line a place nearest to us in our domain. In secret we will bless you now, and hide this special blessing we have prepared before you from those who shall be changed by us in a time to come. For them, we will change creation and the Will of that Creator who did fault Krug, Malin, and Urguan with great defects. Receive our blessing, worship us, learn our tongue, and mark your people to us.” This great temptation did then overtake Horen, and with a single nod of his head did he then betray all mankind, he raised his hands saying, “Cleanse me and my line that I might join you in immortality.” They did so as I scoffed “Immorality,” yet mistakenly, I did so with mouth agape and my voice did echo throughout the wilderness and in the waters as if some spell was upon it.“Immorality” sounded like a clarion upon the land. The figures, having completed their perverse rite, beheld my form and seized upon it. “Woe is me who has been caught by servants of the Denier!” I exclaimed in horror as they laughed in union with oneness in voice. “Your Iblees is below us and we will rid this earth of Him when we are finished with you, for we had knowledge of your presence and a will to use you for our own pleasures.” Rebuking them, I commanded them “Remove your unclean forms from my personage, let me depart from you and from my kin who you did tempt.” The figures kept me restrained as I struggled, voicing “You shall be an example of our rule to come for mankind. You have knowledge which was not meant you. For this sake we will ensnare you in our chains and have you given the mantle of wickedness before we suffer to have you tell the tale of what act by us this day has been committed. Twas at this time that darkness took me and I felt out of control and mind and I was so ensnared by them and given up to their power. When I awoke I did so in blood and flesh, pockets overflowing with coins and fine cloth. I felt weathered, thinned, and ached. All had fled from me and as such I was alone in what wickedness I was made to enact. In that same spirit of mystery I ventured out from the encampment and beheld the figure that had seized me and corrupted Horen. I beheld Krug, Malin, and Urguan kneeling as benediction came onto them as did Horen in the Grotto. Bless the Creator in all ages and shun them that do not partake in the Wine of Sacrament. Believe not the lie of the Aenguls or what is to come from the sons of the house of the rulers of the earth. I repent what became of me robbed of my will, I repent the lie that was given my people. I was unable to halt that which was promised to Horen.