[Sedna]

996 A.P.P.M
To his Lord, the Archbishop of Polgrave,

Dominus Vobiscum. I trust the new year finds you well, and that the recent murder in your househould has not proved too great a burden. I understand that the attacker was caught, and as a personal favor to you I will see that she is tried as a witch and barred from paradise.

The Three of Three will not be happy at the next conclave. AFTIAL has declared that, in honor of Her arrival, the period of peace for Carrofactum should be extended to two months. The Three Above believe AFTIAL's arrival to be a sign that we are supposed to establish God's Kingdom on earth by military conquest, so they will be frustrated by this period of waiting and prayer.

Yet I believe we see eye-to-eye on this matter: AFTIAL comes to cleanse not the exterior world, but to renew the LORD's church from within. She comes to purge the last vestiges of death-worship from our lands, to drive the devil-worshipers and druids out of the Church, and to restore doctrinal purity. Unfortunately, our view will not carry the Church, despite my close ties to AFTIAL. The Three Between are also enamored of conquest, and so we will have war with the neighboring barons to bring them more closely in line with the church, but let us pledge never to lose sight of this true goal:

For nothing that comes from without a man can defile him.
It enters him and leaves him, and does not change him.
Yet as each man dies, so death waits within each of us.
And this is the corruption of man."

Cum flammae et fidei et gladiis,
Father Muszinger

* * * * * * * * *

On the first day or Carrofactum I rose early and wandered the twisted halls of the library in search of The Map of Jerovia, reputed to be "Thee most trvest and accvrate portrayle of the lands hereabovts, with propre notes to gvide the faithfvl pilgrim". I was skeptical, and rightly so, for the tattered shard of map I found hidden within a tome contained precious little information not commonly known throughout the kingdom. I was on my way out when I saw her, sitting by herself on the floor, quietly turning the pages of a ancient volume. The dawn sun had just crept high enough to pour in through the nearest window, and it sparkled off the dust in the air, providing her with a halo. She was dressed all in purest white, and I for a moment I could hear chanting from the choir below.

Since then I have seen her every morning. I admit that I seek out the library now, in the hopes of seeing her. I have not yet worked up the nerve to speak to her and ask how a woman gets access to the inmost library in the House of Just Fires. Her choice of books is decidedly esoteric. After she departs for morningsong I have gone to her place of study and easily located the books she has been readings as the ones without a fine layer of dust. Many a time she has been reading a work in one of the Lost Tongues, but I cannot imagine what she hopes to gain therein. But, ah, my heart beats fast every morning when I catch a glimpse of her, my goddess of the morning (forgive, oh LORD, your servant for this small blasphemy).

* * * * * * * * *

I hate priests with a passion above all else. If there is a god anywhere I hope there is an eternal lake for fire for these vermin to swim in. After three weeks the food stops; the cell changes; torture begins. For hours they ply me with fire and blade and ask me to recant my allegiance to She Who Loves Not The Light. From what I can understand through the pain and the smell of my own smoldering flesh I am accused of having sold my soul to acquire the skill and strength to become an assassin, despite the handicaps of the female body and mind. I will not give them the confession they want which is further proof of my guilt. They cut the sun from my skin, condemn my soul in stern, solemn voices that betray none of the joy they took in my trial.

The crowd is in a frenzy at my burning. No longer a member of the church, I am an animal to be sported with. The wood is stacked, and lit. The heat begins to curl my hairs and itch my skin. Then the heavens open and the rain comes down. Lightning strikes amongst the blood-thirsty vulture-peasants. The smoke and steam overpower me.

I am in my mother's arms, on the verge of sleep as she sings to me. I am awake, and seeing the very living face of light. She tells me I am safe now, that I should be at peace. The evil men who did this to me will face justice, not just in the world to come but in the here and now, and I am to be the instrument for this justice. She will guide and protect me as I walk the dangerous road of my life. When I can no longer walk, she will help me crawl. When I can no longer crawl, she will carry me home.