Ishiss, City of a Thousand Rivers
Aug. 31st, 2025 02:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yutzenLet us begin today’s chronicle with a question: When you hear the word Ishiss, by itself, without any previous context, what comes to mind? The shining, tower-laden city that seems to have been built with a so-called “skyline” in mind from the very beginning, or the nation it names, one that seemingly never expected to be more than just one metropolis and now stretches far and wide? I’ve found even the ones trying to invoke the latter often end up stuck with the former in their minds, hardly remembering any other cities of note in the Magocracy’s territory[1].
An understandable oversight, in all honesty. From the way the Ifchi built and settled the lands they called theirs, one got the feeling they want all of it to be just the one city, stretched far and wide, with entire waterways as little more than its streets. It’s even in their inter-city planning, once they realized nations just couldn’t function as one singular metropolis, as every other city out there is obligated to have a clear and delineated route back to Ishiss, even if shortcuts must be carved under the main caverns. At times, it can be almost baffling, but it’s even more so when you know the history of the Ifchi themselves and their arrival into the caverns[2].
However, it all starts to make significantly more sense when you take waterways into account.
Rivers and aquifers are not nearly as much of an impediment to the Ifchi, and in many cases they’re an outright boon to their transit. After all, Ishiss enclaves are infamous for springing up from riverbanks and even well fields without warning, and refuse to be budged; the unending clashes with Ferigoz and the Consortium over in the Western Hollow-Lands are well known. And it’s all thanks to the submerged roads only Ifchi can control, and the rivers that carry them faster than any cobbled path could; without these subaquatic routes, these enclaves would’ve been swept away long ago.
Now, with that in mind, take a single look at where Ishiss itself is located. The very first central towers where the city itself began as such. With the right map[3], one can quickly find that its position at one of Lake Sharroscu’s tributaries is more than it seems, standing on a spot where even a simple well would tap into the true core of the lake, bigger still than its already-impressive surface would give away. A truly titanic body of water fed by far more flows than one can readily see, stretching all over the Eastern side of the caverns we all inhabit – and according to deeper sources, a few chain right into other bodies of water[4] further West, allowing for some unexpected exits if one is willing to excavate enough.
It is through one of these paths that I made my way into the city of Ishiss following some concerning leads. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, a flask of air small enough to conceal can only last so long even knowing what I know, but I felt it was vital to hold the mask of a fellow Ifchi for the deep (though not literal) dive into the depths of Ishiss I intended. And besides, I’ll admit the burning in one’s lungs makes it far easier to swim as fast as the olms themselves.
Nevertheless, these watery pathways are striking in their starkness. Decorations of any kind, even engraving, would be futile thanks to the flow. Thus, one might expect raw stone, carved by nothing but erosion and necessity… Instead, one finds the Ifchi took the time to smooth it all down, even the walls one would barely see in their hurried passage. Why, if you stretch your hand towards any given surface and let it sweep across the stone as the currents drag you, you’ll find it’s all been smoothed so thoroughly it’s almost difficult to tell where it begins or ends. You wouldn’t even find a single rough bump on the way. Whether it’s done for aesthetics or safety’s sake, I wouldn’t know, but while it works for both it hardly helps with navigation, I will say that much.
Now, once you (finally) emerge from one such tunnel and into one of the transit wells in the city, the sights are quite different. Rather than walls smoothed to perfection, you begin to see actual sculpting all around, with even the very architecture given resplendent curves to catch the light of the lamps. It’s here that you start seeing actual marble, too, rather than the bluish-black stone that forms the tunnels, and most of lake Sharroscu’s basin. The contrasts are certainly striking, made even more so by the level of polish given to even the most necessary of pillars. Whether it’s abstract designs or very clear Ifchi (of indistinct identity), supports seem a favored canvas in Ishiss architecture.
One thing you will quickly notice after that, especially once you leave the wellstation itself and step outside, is an absence. Back inside, one would imagine it a stylistic choice, but as you start to look over the imposing, near-shining towers all around you, each with its own unique, smoothed-down exterior, as you peer at the Ifchi that walk besides and around you, even those covered in fine silks and gemstones, you will come to a realization: There’s scarcely any metal anywhere in sight. Little bronze, even less brass, and almost nothing in the way of iron or its alloys. If you’re lucky, you’ll see the tools of craftsmen and the occasional weapon worn or wielded to remind you the Ifchi can work metal, but that is it. Even the buttons and buckles on clothing are made of such things as shells and pumices, rather than the brass we’re all used to.
After that realization, the other, clearer oddities before you may suddenly start to make sense. Rather than the usual cars and wagons, for example, the streets of Ishiss are laid with rafts, which float on the shallow, yet rapid streams that form its streets, their waters steered by their passengers; crossing the streams in question, wading as they flow against your ankles, you’ll realize why most Ifchi here don’t bother with footwear[5]. And where you’d expect lampposts of iron or brass, you instead get fungal posts dug into the sidewalks, slotted with gleaming, crystalline shards[6], far more apt than any candle or oily flame when faced with this sodden air.
All in all, it’s a very particular first impression, with styles and choices no one else in the caverns ever goes for. The abundance of water, the plentiful timber and the absence of metal, each and every one of these is something you wouldn’t see in any other capital.
And all of it well before you head towards the highest towers that form the heart of Ishiss – city and nation alike – like I was that day, chasing some very particular rumors about those that dwell at their tops.
Now, Ishiss isn’t all towers, of course, but the Ifchi are especially infatuated with vertical construction, much like the Vezarym—and they have the excuse of flight to justify theirs. You’ll see them in various smoothly-carved configurations all the way towards the horizon with no clear rim, even popping out in the outskirts of the city, or in the middle of the fields outside its borders. But towards the center of Ishiss, the towers grow ever taller, ever more ornate, until the very central bundle of towers, an octagonal array that scrapes the ceiling of the cavern. The hierarchies are very clear, and even those right next to the eight are visibly shorter – and as I understand, they must be shorter, by order of the Magocracy itself.
I made my approach in the guise of an older Ifchi, sinuous and half-blind already. Of course, with my functional eyes, I could see the details of them from afar. Each of the eight is carved from grand blocks of stacked marble, smoothed into curved shapes until the seams are near-impossible to see. And slotted into the lower segments, as well as around the windows, great carved slabs of obsidian have been slotted in, polished to a shine that can be seen even miles away. This is what truly distinguishes the towers from one another, identifies their purpose and dwellers, for the main structures were clearly meant to look exactly the same. These obsidian sculptures do their best to enshrine their dwellers’ area of expertise, when it comes to harnessing energies; if those abstract designs aren’t enough, there is a great circular symbol right above the main doors of each tower, as simple a representation of their element as can be…
And they are still not made of any kind of proper metal, mind you. Some readers will find this irritating, but these discs, medallions fit for a tower, they’re made of ores of metal, untreated and polished like any other ornamental stone. Even the famous Solar Archmage’s own tower has a symbol made from a single gold nugget, smoothed down rather than smelted and cast, something that gave even me pause once I was close enough to see it (and likely deteriorated relationships with Ferigoz as soon as it was discovered).
That tangent aside, I wasn’t there to see the Solar Archmage himself, much as I’d relish the chance. Rather, I had matters to cover with the rest of his tower, from those set to inherit his position to the apprentices at the very bottom. For the rumors that reached me went all over the hierarchy, but spared the old olm himself beyond some extrapolation. He didn’t fit the profile for what seemed to transpire, anyhow, too hidebound, and perhaps a little too arrogant. Not someone looking for the sort of changes involved. But the others…
Now, to start sussing out the truth of the matter, I knew I couldn’t prod into Solar matters fully, the hierarchy itself wasn’t plotting anything beyond the usual. That, and generally no one in Ishiss is too interested in boasting about structures, beyond their own role to play in them. No, if an Ifchi wants to shine, they’ll want to shine by themselves, and thus to have them illuminate a given matter, you’ll want to prod at what the individual is up to, whether it’s them or another. And so, that’s exactly where I began: By finding one of the more erudite sorts striding out of the tower at that hour, and starting to prod on both her own projects, and what one rival of hers had been up to.
I’ll admit, I got just a little lucky with who I asked, because while I knew she was a jealous sort I seem to have poked a sore point right from the get go. By her word, said rival had gotten especially insufferable lately, with some particular emphasis on their “smug smile that never came off again” after some moment she couldn’t puzzle together. In fact, much of her irritation stemmed from how much of it all was unclear, they were hiding something, she said, something big. The very fact they hadn’t taken their time to boast, or even rub her face into some recent achievement, meant they and all their “cohorts” (her words) were planning something especially great. Of course, she thought it was to upstage her, but even a scratched spyglass will let you see far.
And see far I did. More than far enough to be aware of who I needed to consult with next, and just far enough to realize I may need to trawl through correspondence, and perhaps even personal belongings, to find the deeper truths. I’d need to ingratiate myself a little more, consult on projects with a little more authority, and find the right times and places to open the drawers and safes where they kept the things the Archmage shouldn’t see.
The matter at hand, however, turned out to be both a little easier, and far more worrying than most would’ve imagined. Granted, even with the usual doctored credentials to get a little deeper, prying the relevant pieces out of the involved was about as hard as I’d expect, as they intended to keep their projects’ secrets safe and sound and a few refused to part with the joy of lording that which I (supposedly) didn’t know over me. Indeed, it was somewhat frustrating, and more often than not I needed to take jabs at their ideas so that they’d spill something in the ensuing rants or counter-insults. But then, I found the right button to press upon with one of the initiates[7]. Almost accidentally, in a longer conversation about the Lightless East and its pervasive darkness, I stumbled upon a dream.
As soon as I touched upon how intense light, like that of the Solar Mages in this very tower, was needed to dispel such darkness and thus needed to be worked into the very infrastructure, their eyes lit up with a wistful look. Pouncing on the chance, I asked them if they had ideas on the matter, recognizing that glint… And they said these weren’t their ideas, before elaborating in the twistiest of manners, with dazzling detail on some segments and very clear avoidance and ambiguity in others, as if both trying to impress me and testing the waters in case I wasn’t on board. It all painted the picture of a great system of illumination that, instead of using a network of smaller fixtures stretching through the dark, would resort to a single, truly magnificent source of light that would move across the land…
Now, of course, this sounded quite insane already, so as I prodded into why it would need to be like this, matters got vague once more, as the initiate stumbled upon what they could or couldn’t tell me… before one bit of impatient prodding got them to mix it up, by way of them calling this source of illumination a “sun”[8]. And that alone wouldn’t have been a problem, of course, it’s an easy comparison to make when you know what a sun is, but they visibly panicked as soon as they realized they said it, and immediately cut the conversation short with an excuse to depart. That’s when I knew I was on the right track, but that poking at the individuals involved would only get me so far before they caught on.
And so, I saw I’d need to play up my (supposed) terrible eyesight to get “lost” around the tower, and find myself in places where I could find personal documents, schematics, blueprints. The project so described to me sounded far too advanced, far too detailed, to lack such paperwork. Even just the concept artwork would’ve illuminated matters further, pun not intended. I’d need to play up confusion and pull all the rank I could, in order to get there… I’d need far more than credentials for that. I’d need to use all my particular tricks to play the part of someone who could bend ambient energies like nothing, someone attuned to an actual element.
Thankfully, I have my ways, even in that. I had to bring some very particular writings with me, and write down a few more knowing the paper that bore them wouldn’t last especially long, but with this “documentation” I could pull quite a bit of rank indeed, and of course replicate the effects and spectacle to match—effects and spectacle I won’t be sharing in this volume, lest I make it too easy for them to catch on next time.
Either way, with these deceptions at hand, I made my seemingly-clueless way through the tower, playing dull or sharp where each would get me further, and threatening an unaffordably scandalous ruckus with those that couldn’t risk their reputations by picking squabbles with an old veteran… And took the time to enjoy the sights, as well. The inside of a mage tower is quite a place indeed, where each and every stone surface is polished until it shines, and much of the furniture that needn’t move is a part of the structure itself, seamlessly melded until it’s one, or at least looking the part. Crystals of all colors and shapes line the edges of the walls and stairs, too, and grand chandeliers of wood and crystal hanged from the ceiling, centered around a singular bright light, a perfect sphere that was almost blinding to look at. It made my search distracting, I’ll admit, but on I went…
Until I caught the right glimpse at the right time, while asking one of the adepts about a very important and very misplaced letter that should’ve arrived at my door. I could see the briefest concern, and a single glance at an unremarkable spot in the wall as she told me there should be no such letter anywhere, that I must’ve been mistaken, or told the wrong thing, and proceeded to go off on such a hypothetical fool rather than accuse me of anything. And all the while, I could read in her hands and motions that she was resisting the urge to usher me out; she must’ve thought it’d be too suspicious, and she would’ve been right, but unfortunately for her the urge alone gave her away to my eyes, even as she got a little deeper into her own indignant rambling than I believe she intended.
Now, the moment that followed was delicate: I had to find words that would ideally defuse enough suspicion that she wouldn’t tamper with anything in there, try to move it away, and be confident enough to leave it all alone. Or, perhaps, something that would get her out of the way quickly, if not outright suddenly, and for a few key moments, but that was far more of a gamble. I was buying time, looking confused and disappointed at the floor, mind racing…
And I remembered one particular colleague of hers, dour and rather frustrating to talk with, but with clear talent and ambition from what I probed. One that spoke of this adept with a certain tone, measured and diplomatic where it clearly shouldn’t need to be. And then I saw how willing she was to take shots in the dark at whoever had mistakenly led me here, not just to some stranger but to whoever overheard.
Perhaps unwisely, I took a shot in the dark of my own, and told her he had been the one to pass me along here. Or, rather, that’s what I’d taken from his (entirely fictional) mutterings about how it must’ve been addressed for her instead, “just like everything else running above my head”. And at her expression, I pushed further, in that once I turned away I was quite sure I heard something about letters from the Solar Archmage himself! Heated correspondence, he’d said, actively wondering what else they exchanged. Such things you overhear, when you start to lose your sight but your ears pick up the slack… Of course, I clarified I believed nothing of the sort! But “my” letter, it had been so lost, scattered to such depths of bureaucracy, I just had to pick up on any lead I had!
Sometimes these little acts of mine are a guilty pleasure, I’ll say that much.
Nevertheless, I knew I had her by the time I mentioned the Solar Archmage. I could almost measure how much her pupils shrank at his name, and she tensed up quite visibly once I went over these supposed accusations; much as I completely made them up I either hit on a real accusation some had lobbed her way, or perhaps struck closer to home than I thought. Then again, the accusation in itself was serious enough, especially in Ishiss[9]. Whatever the case, she offered me a polite, mirthless little smile, with eyes that hardly saw me, and told me to wait in place while she walked off to “clear up a few things”. Presumably, she refused to let such words go uncontested, but if things ever got violent I could not confirm, much as I’m very certain I would’ve overheard a clash of energies; neither of them seemed like the physical type.
Either way, with luck (and a frankly dirty trick) on my side, I accomplished what I intended, and had clear access to her room while what few eyes were around for the moment laid on her. And so, I slipped in, closed the door as quietly as possible behind me once I was certain she’d left (followed by those, and immediately got to the spot she’d incautiously glanced at while I had poked her about unwarranted correspondence… I found an odd mechanism in place, once I’d actually found the seam in the wall. A very smooth seam it was, with little space to pry it open, and no apparent externals to work with. But leaning in, I caught a few odd energies in there, and playing to them with what I had, I heard the slightest slosh of water somewhere behind the wall. A locking mechanism, hidden away and full of water, one only an Ifchi could normally operate…
Unfortunately for me, I am not an Ifchi, and I hardly had the time to play with locks. Fortunately for me, in turn, this was a very ornamental wall and I bind my many, many notes with a cover thick enough to stop a bullet. So I bashed it open with the corner (it took but one strike, that’s short-sighted security for you), twisted the mechanism manually, opened the tiny vault that popped out of the wall and snatched up all I could find within into my notes. From there, all that was left was to make my exit, opening the door with care to ensure no one’d notice it…
Or, as it turns out, opening the door, immediately finding myself spotted by two apprentices I’d seen and conversed with but minutes ago, and deciding that if I couldn’t leave unseen, then I’d at least stick by my story and cow them at the same time. A simple matter of slipping out while standing tall, a polite smile with an edge of smug on my face, and declaring to them while waving an unremarkable, folded document in the air. “I found my letter!”, I declared with triumphant courtesy, before simply walking away, letting them stare as I departed, unwilling to object or say anything as my sinuous guise took its time to pass them by. And just like that, once I’d tucked it all away and back into my notes, I left, thanking my luck at every turn…
At least, I assume it was luck. That and boldness. Looking unassailable, especially here, is key to not be assailed in the first place, especially when it seems there would be great ignominy in defeat—and with an old, half-blind olm who still stood in the Archmages’ own towers, the chances must’ve looked very poor. No one wants to become an example.
Anyhow, with the actual retrieval behind me, all that was left was to sort through the correspondence in question in a safe place, decoding what yet remained encoded and piecing the details together until I had a more understandable whole. The straightforward letters, background and chaff alike, were first, painting a fuzzy picture of daily life in the Solar Archmage’s shadow. Of cold, almost steely politeness at every turn, and a constant direction in which everyone was to work towards, even as they batted at each other to get ahead. Like fish racing up the river, in ways…
But the picture of what they battled against was a little clearer. It would seem that those that have been swallowed by the darkness from the Lightless East have been particularly troublesome for Ishiss as of late, especially those that have found the way to harness it like other Ifchi would harness water itself. Of these sorts, I’ve heard my meager but solid share, whether it’s those suspected of being “poisoned” by the unnatural darkness until their very personalities were twisted against light as a whole, or those who’ve thoroughly turned against Ishiss even before they went East. Hardly united, but quite ubiquitous past a certain point, and hard to root out, let alone assail without becoming one thanks to the nature of the entity haunting the Ifchi, and the Lightless East as a whole…
Indeed, these are troublesome sorts I’ve heard of before, and I’m not surprised the Magocracy struggles to keep them in check at times, with how insidious they can be even when bright enough light purges their malady. The unciphered letters spoke of the struggles they had, of tactics to root them out, and most of all training methods to bring all in the tower up to par when it came to generating light, so that they could face them undaunted. This, too, is something I knew of, the Solar’s circle is perhaps the main vanguard against the dark, definitely their most public of foes…
What I didn’t know about, and discovered as I cracked the codes, was that the dark has another luminous foe, right outside the public eye.
These unusual, and logistically improbable plans for a single source of illumination wandering the land, a singular “sun”, that the apprentice led me to in their enthusiasm? They weren’t just pipe dreams in a journal. I pieced together multiple seemingly unrelated sketches together into a singular blueprint, a copy of something far more detailed where it was clear not everything had been written down. Just enough to tempt the imagination with an image some would call glorious, others intimidating[10]. An unfathomably huge, yet perfectly spherical mass of crystalline glass, made from sands outside the Subterraneum itself so that it would not be tainted by Radiance, made to travel the lands on a grand arrangement of rails, ratchets and gears, from end to end of Ishiss territory with potential for expansion…
And infused with a single, large spark, ideally brought from an actual sun somewhere outside the caverns. Something that would, in turn, alter every last ray of light coming from this, turning it solar, radiant in a very different way. Bringing a surface’s light to the depths, and in a way, giving the caverns their very own sun.
This may already sound insane, even to a hypothetical[11] layman who just encountered these pages lying somewhere between bricks, all the way on the other side of the caverns. And it may be absurd, to those among my readers who know what suns are in the first place. To those of us who have seen what an actual sun can do to a species that hasn’t felt its light in thousands of years, if ever, the concept is outright psychotic. It’s already a logistical nightmare in every aspect to even fetch such a fueling spark in the first place, whether just scraping it together from energies around an appropriate Exit or actively heading out into one. Not only that, working it into any kind of artifice without a level of incineration and general uncooperativeness that would just wipe materials and artisans alike seems close to impossible. I say this outright, I just cannot envision it, I don’t have the capacity to dream that deeply, let alone the ambition to consider it or the world-rattling conviction (if not delusion) to attempt it.
Yet, delving deeper into the document, I started finding those who had all three, and found them even more concerning than I expected them to be. This isn’t a desperate splinter faction, or a conspiracy vying for control of the Magocracy, or a singular brilliantly mad mastermind with the charisma to have a following. This is a visionary, yet utterly blind and strangely godless cult. A counter-cult, if you will, considering what seemingly made them spring, but a cult nonetheless.
The Second Dawn. Both their name, and their goal. I haven’t yet found any trace of who the founders could be, and its emergence was either remarkably smooth or far enough in the past to have a solid hierarchy; either of these would be quite notable, and very concerning, especially in Ishiss. It would mean there is either serious charisma or a certain passion among its members, to wrangle them together into a common goal with so little in the way of names and renown. There were certainly hints for both possibilities in the material I found, with determination in every strata and those few names I could find bearing silvery tongues (or pens, as the case may be).
Why an actual sun, you might ask. What do they intend by bringing such an antithetical thing to these caverns, just to cast away darkness that can be overcome with entirely normal light. On that, there are some minor splits. They all intend to banish the toxic darkness of the Lightless East, and reclaim[12] the land for themselves once rid of its perfidious influence. But after that, some arguments remain. The unnamed correspondents seemed to prefer keeping it down here, perhaps stretching the Sun’s path Westward, to claim greater and greater territories for the glory of the Magocracy, but those closer to the top, with actual signatures in these letters… They would widen the Exit as much as they could, and bring the Sun back to their old realm, to wage war against the true origin of the darkness and finally take back their realm[13]. Whether it’s just the principle of the matter, vengeance, or delusion in thinking the death of a world can be undone, I don’t yet know, but on this point the bigger names were quite adamant.
Speaking of names, and this datum I will offer freely, the most important one I believe I found would be powerful light-wielder only known as Tirsham (a nickname, I assume), with no surnames to be found. What I did find, however, were descriptions, in terms of who to look for. His coloration is fairly typical, the common whites and reds, but there was one particular detail that made me especially concerned: In most descriptions, when guiding the newest sorts to meeting him, he’s always wearing headgear of some kind. Sometimes a soldier in disguise, with the metal masks of the station, sometimes a clear scion of some central family with thick and expensive lenswork that covers up to his forehead, and sometimes a hooded vagrant by one of the rivers, in charge of little more than a boat for the landbound. And in those exulting descriptions as he presided over their teachings, he was always described as having a single, black scorch, a burn so deep it looks like charcoal, right in the middle of his forehead.
I may need to remind some of you that Ifchi, while soft, are quite hardy, their flesh knitting itself together far better and remarkably faster than anyone else’s. Limbs and innards alike recover eventually, even when plucked off the body entirely, and there’s tales of those that have come back from being split in half, and even head injuries with naught but lost time and memory. To leave a scar on an olm is already an unnatural achievement; a wound that never heals is almost unthinkable. And so, I am left with two possibilities: This Tirsham, the closest thing to a leader of the Second Dawn that I know, he’s either dedicated and insane enough to renew this burn again and again, or came into contact with something so accursed, or so intense, that this gruesome caricature of a third eye will simply never heal again. And not only did he walk away from this, walks away from it every time he wakes… from what I read here, it inspires rather than deters, and leads him forwards into a “glorious future” ablaze with burning light, a future he would have a sunlit hand in, not caring one bit for those who’ll turn to charcoal under it.
This is the kind of zealotry that aims to raise a scorching sun over our heads. It is this worrisome sect that has wormed its way into the tower of the Solar Archmage, at the very minimum, and most likely well beyond it. All of it thanks to the encroaching darkness the Ifchi simply cannot seem to leave behind, pressuring the Ifchi for century after century… leading a few talented sorts to crack like glass, and expose this jagged edge of madness to the world. How many are simply following a promising lead, someone who finally seems to know what they’re doing, and how many truly believe this is what must be done and they will be the ones to make it happen, I do not know yet, but both are clearly there. And with this Tirsham as an exemplar of this Second Dawn…
Well, I would advice the Magocracy to take a very, very close look at their own numbers. I know they have troubles with infiltrates from the East that serve the thing they left behind fairly willingly, as if the whispers in their heads were their own. But for every threat, there is one who would stand against it, hold the reins, and never let go of them again. Sometimes power-hungry… and, as the case may be here, sometimes merely unhinged. They’re not always a problem of any consideration, but here, they might just be. Thus, I shall be leaving a few more copies than usual scattered about Ishiss (city and nation alike), so that they may pick up on my findings a little faster if they haven’t already. I wouldn’t dare assume, one way or the other.
As to my faithful readers, I hope this will not be of any personal risk to any of you, but if it had been, now you know. I’ve laid down the past before your eyes many times before, and I will continue to do so in the future, the truth must be dug out at all times and presented in all its possible fullness, so that we may understand the present, and ourselves… But as you saw today, it’s so very possible to take entirely the wrong lesson from it. Often because one didn’t look deep enough, but I believe in this case, far too many people did not look through a wide enough lens. This is a matter of obsession with a past that cares not for the present, and less so for the future. I hope, in continuing to keep my topics so assorted, wandering the caverns, that I am helping you in not making these mistakes.
Yours Truthfully,
The Ever-Restless Nirrhamidh.
[1]Admittedly, the Magocracy’s irregular borders and shape contribute to this, but there is a near-criminal lack of knowledge about the wonderful and not-so-wonderful places they’ve made. I have a soft spot for Migrudarrush in their southern territories; the Crystalline Lakes as a whole are a beautiful place, and quite lively too. Just because it has less inhabitants than Ishiss (a high bar to clear) doesn’t mean it’s sparse. Still, I must contribute to the problem today, since this particular chronicle isn’t about such places.
[2]To make a long story short, they are one of the few actively pursued into the Subterraneum by the threat that made their realm uninhabitable; you would imagine that would scatter them far and wide rather than maintain much unity, but it seems they fled as one, roamed as one, and even had a nomadic few years before marking the spot that would soon be Ishiss.
[3]A tall order, I know, especially since the only maps that would show the true extent of the waterways would either belong to the Ifchi themselves, or those that have faced them far too many times – and even then, it would be limited in scope. I will readily admit I’ve needed to compile maps for personal use the same way I compile tales, and even then I feel I may need to do my own cartography at some point.
[4]The true extent here is unknown even to the Magocracy, however, as I’ve found out. Apparently due to water pressure and Radiance concentrations, exploring past a certain depth is unfeasibly dangerous, so there could well be some truly humongous volumes of water further down – and similarly humongous things lurking within it, considering the landbound ones that have sometimes dug themselves out of similar depths to make our collective existence difficult.
[5]Granted, those on the rafts are usually kind enough to stop and let you pass if you’re clearly not an Ifchi yourself, but the point still stands. Especially when you need to cross several streets in one sitting, as I had to, testing luck at each crossing until all that’s left is to just bite the bullet. Or give myself away in this case, which is even less of an option.
[6]They call these shards Grish over there, all sheared fairly harmlessly from a variety of local (very large) insects whose chitin reacts to ambient energies by emitting light, even when it’s been plucked off the bugs in question. You can often see some of the more docile Grish beetles as pets, walking right besides their owners.
[7]I will not be revealing any details about who they were, besides position. This bright-eyed one was clearly caught up in promises by someone they trusted, and shouldn’t have listened to, they don’t deserve what would likely come to the actual, knowing collaborators if I understood the scope and implications of the project correctly.
[8]As a small reminder to the residents of older nations, a sun is generally a grand body of light (and often heat) usually present in those places without a ceiling, too far out of reach to interact with in any meaningful manner. The source of said light and heat varies, usually some manner of self-sustaining reaction, but the details go beyond the scope of this volume. More importantly (and one reason it drew my attention), they are particularly relevant in Ifchi culture and history, as their pre-Refuge descendants actually triggered the need for said Refuge by calling upon an entity that killed their sun and flooded their realm with the unique sort of darkness found in the Lightless East.
[9]I don’t mean to say only Ifchi would be upset at being accused of wielding unofficial power thanks to an outside deal with a higher-up, or of being in a higher position in the first place exclusively due to such a deal. Even in a Hive, or the Western Kingdoms, it would get you scowls at best, especially if you nudged on the more lascivious implications (though it may fly in the Consortium, depending on the results of the “transaction”). But hacking away at an Ifchi’s merits like that, declaring that a given one is nothing but a fraud using underhanded methods to climb so far? That they are worse than mediocre at what makes them notable, at what makes their names shine? It’s an especially serious affront, in a nation where you’re expected to show off.
[10]I, speaking for myself, would call them exuberant and overly ambitious, with the same kind of carried-away thinking that leads those who make war engines to think a singular, overly huge and/or complex contraption can solve a battle all by itself. Or war in itself, at times. Though there were worrying pinches of the besieged, murderously desperate thinking you see in people who only know war, and would scorch the very land around them if it meant any of it finally came to an end.
[11]Not especially hypothetical, word of mouth is always a risky one in my readerbase, so I strive for simple curiosity where I can, cumbersome as it will be to get this particular tale to the Western Kingdoms.
[12]Given Ishiss was founded directly outside the influence of the darkness, there is potential controversy on this point. Was the land ever theirs in the first place, when they spent so long fleeing from it and even the edges of the dark were simply scavenged and left behind by nomads rather than actually settled?
[13]As a reminder, said realm is not just lightless now, but so consumed by the entity their forebears called I understand there is no water left to begin with, and the land is now a sandblasted ruin. How it suffered like this while the Lightless East isn’t so consumed evades me yet, but I doubt bringing any light back will somehow return all else that was lost. I cannot assure this, but I have great doubts.
An understandable oversight, in all honesty. From the way the Ifchi built and settled the lands they called theirs, one got the feeling they want all of it to be just the one city, stretched far and wide, with entire waterways as little more than its streets. It’s even in their inter-city planning, once they realized nations just couldn’t function as one singular metropolis, as every other city out there is obligated to have a clear and delineated route back to Ishiss, even if shortcuts must be carved under the main caverns. At times, it can be almost baffling, but it’s even more so when you know the history of the Ifchi themselves and their arrival into the caverns[2].
However, it all starts to make significantly more sense when you take waterways into account.
Rivers and aquifers are not nearly as much of an impediment to the Ifchi, and in many cases they’re an outright boon to their transit. After all, Ishiss enclaves are infamous for springing up from riverbanks and even well fields without warning, and refuse to be budged; the unending clashes with Ferigoz and the Consortium over in the Western Hollow-Lands are well known. And it’s all thanks to the submerged roads only Ifchi can control, and the rivers that carry them faster than any cobbled path could; without these subaquatic routes, these enclaves would’ve been swept away long ago.
Now, with that in mind, take a single look at where Ishiss itself is located. The very first central towers where the city itself began as such. With the right map[3], one can quickly find that its position at one of Lake Sharroscu’s tributaries is more than it seems, standing on a spot where even a simple well would tap into the true core of the lake, bigger still than its already-impressive surface would give away. A truly titanic body of water fed by far more flows than one can readily see, stretching all over the Eastern side of the caverns we all inhabit – and according to deeper sources, a few chain right into other bodies of water[4] further West, allowing for some unexpected exits if one is willing to excavate enough.
It is through one of these paths that I made my way into the city of Ishiss following some concerning leads. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, a flask of air small enough to conceal can only last so long even knowing what I know, but I felt it was vital to hold the mask of a fellow Ifchi for the deep (though not literal) dive into the depths of Ishiss I intended. And besides, I’ll admit the burning in one’s lungs makes it far easier to swim as fast as the olms themselves.
Nevertheless, these watery pathways are striking in their starkness. Decorations of any kind, even engraving, would be futile thanks to the flow. Thus, one might expect raw stone, carved by nothing but erosion and necessity… Instead, one finds the Ifchi took the time to smooth it all down, even the walls one would barely see in their hurried passage. Why, if you stretch your hand towards any given surface and let it sweep across the stone as the currents drag you, you’ll find it’s all been smoothed so thoroughly it’s almost difficult to tell where it begins or ends. You wouldn’t even find a single rough bump on the way. Whether it’s done for aesthetics or safety’s sake, I wouldn’t know, but while it works for both it hardly helps with navigation, I will say that much.
Now, once you (finally) emerge from one such tunnel and into one of the transit wells in the city, the sights are quite different. Rather than walls smoothed to perfection, you begin to see actual sculpting all around, with even the very architecture given resplendent curves to catch the light of the lamps. It’s here that you start seeing actual marble, too, rather than the bluish-black stone that forms the tunnels, and most of lake Sharroscu’s basin. The contrasts are certainly striking, made even more so by the level of polish given to even the most necessary of pillars. Whether it’s abstract designs or very clear Ifchi (of indistinct identity), supports seem a favored canvas in Ishiss architecture.
One thing you will quickly notice after that, especially once you leave the wellstation itself and step outside, is an absence. Back inside, one would imagine it a stylistic choice, but as you start to look over the imposing, near-shining towers all around you, each with its own unique, smoothed-down exterior, as you peer at the Ifchi that walk besides and around you, even those covered in fine silks and gemstones, you will come to a realization: There’s scarcely any metal anywhere in sight. Little bronze, even less brass, and almost nothing in the way of iron or its alloys. If you’re lucky, you’ll see the tools of craftsmen and the occasional weapon worn or wielded to remind you the Ifchi can work metal, but that is it. Even the buttons and buckles on clothing are made of such things as shells and pumices, rather than the brass we’re all used to.
After that realization, the other, clearer oddities before you may suddenly start to make sense. Rather than the usual cars and wagons, for example, the streets of Ishiss are laid with rafts, which float on the shallow, yet rapid streams that form its streets, their waters steered by their passengers; crossing the streams in question, wading as they flow against your ankles, you’ll realize why most Ifchi here don’t bother with footwear[5]. And where you’d expect lampposts of iron or brass, you instead get fungal posts dug into the sidewalks, slotted with gleaming, crystalline shards[6], far more apt than any candle or oily flame when faced with this sodden air.
All in all, it’s a very particular first impression, with styles and choices no one else in the caverns ever goes for. The abundance of water, the plentiful timber and the absence of metal, each and every one of these is something you wouldn’t see in any other capital.
And all of it well before you head towards the highest towers that form the heart of Ishiss – city and nation alike – like I was that day, chasing some very particular rumors about those that dwell at their tops.
Now, Ishiss isn’t all towers, of course, but the Ifchi are especially infatuated with vertical construction, much like the Vezarym—and they have the excuse of flight to justify theirs. You’ll see them in various smoothly-carved configurations all the way towards the horizon with no clear rim, even popping out in the outskirts of the city, or in the middle of the fields outside its borders. But towards the center of Ishiss, the towers grow ever taller, ever more ornate, until the very central bundle of towers, an octagonal array that scrapes the ceiling of the cavern. The hierarchies are very clear, and even those right next to the eight are visibly shorter – and as I understand, they must be shorter, by order of the Magocracy itself.
I made my approach in the guise of an older Ifchi, sinuous and half-blind already. Of course, with my functional eyes, I could see the details of them from afar. Each of the eight is carved from grand blocks of stacked marble, smoothed into curved shapes until the seams are near-impossible to see. And slotted into the lower segments, as well as around the windows, great carved slabs of obsidian have been slotted in, polished to a shine that can be seen even miles away. This is what truly distinguishes the towers from one another, identifies their purpose and dwellers, for the main structures were clearly meant to look exactly the same. These obsidian sculptures do their best to enshrine their dwellers’ area of expertise, when it comes to harnessing energies; if those abstract designs aren’t enough, there is a great circular symbol right above the main doors of each tower, as simple a representation of their element as can be…
And they are still not made of any kind of proper metal, mind you. Some readers will find this irritating, but these discs, medallions fit for a tower, they’re made of ores of metal, untreated and polished like any other ornamental stone. Even the famous Solar Archmage’s own tower has a symbol made from a single gold nugget, smoothed down rather than smelted and cast, something that gave even me pause once I was close enough to see it (and likely deteriorated relationships with Ferigoz as soon as it was discovered).
That tangent aside, I wasn’t there to see the Solar Archmage himself, much as I’d relish the chance. Rather, I had matters to cover with the rest of his tower, from those set to inherit his position to the apprentices at the very bottom. For the rumors that reached me went all over the hierarchy, but spared the old olm himself beyond some extrapolation. He didn’t fit the profile for what seemed to transpire, anyhow, too hidebound, and perhaps a little too arrogant. Not someone looking for the sort of changes involved. But the others…
Now, to start sussing out the truth of the matter, I knew I couldn’t prod into Solar matters fully, the hierarchy itself wasn’t plotting anything beyond the usual. That, and generally no one in Ishiss is too interested in boasting about structures, beyond their own role to play in them. No, if an Ifchi wants to shine, they’ll want to shine by themselves, and thus to have them illuminate a given matter, you’ll want to prod at what the individual is up to, whether it’s them or another. And so, that’s exactly where I began: By finding one of the more erudite sorts striding out of the tower at that hour, and starting to prod on both her own projects, and what one rival of hers had been up to.
I’ll admit, I got just a little lucky with who I asked, because while I knew she was a jealous sort I seem to have poked a sore point right from the get go. By her word, said rival had gotten especially insufferable lately, with some particular emphasis on their “smug smile that never came off again” after some moment she couldn’t puzzle together. In fact, much of her irritation stemmed from how much of it all was unclear, they were hiding something, she said, something big. The very fact they hadn’t taken their time to boast, or even rub her face into some recent achievement, meant they and all their “cohorts” (her words) were planning something especially great. Of course, she thought it was to upstage her, but even a scratched spyglass will let you see far.
And see far I did. More than far enough to be aware of who I needed to consult with next, and just far enough to realize I may need to trawl through correspondence, and perhaps even personal belongings, to find the deeper truths. I’d need to ingratiate myself a little more, consult on projects with a little more authority, and find the right times and places to open the drawers and safes where they kept the things the Archmage shouldn’t see.
The matter at hand, however, turned out to be both a little easier, and far more worrying than most would’ve imagined. Granted, even with the usual doctored credentials to get a little deeper, prying the relevant pieces out of the involved was about as hard as I’d expect, as they intended to keep their projects’ secrets safe and sound and a few refused to part with the joy of lording that which I (supposedly) didn’t know over me. Indeed, it was somewhat frustrating, and more often than not I needed to take jabs at their ideas so that they’d spill something in the ensuing rants or counter-insults. But then, I found the right button to press upon with one of the initiates[7]. Almost accidentally, in a longer conversation about the Lightless East and its pervasive darkness, I stumbled upon a dream.
As soon as I touched upon how intense light, like that of the Solar Mages in this very tower, was needed to dispel such darkness and thus needed to be worked into the very infrastructure, their eyes lit up with a wistful look. Pouncing on the chance, I asked them if they had ideas on the matter, recognizing that glint… And they said these weren’t their ideas, before elaborating in the twistiest of manners, with dazzling detail on some segments and very clear avoidance and ambiguity in others, as if both trying to impress me and testing the waters in case I wasn’t on board. It all painted the picture of a great system of illumination that, instead of using a network of smaller fixtures stretching through the dark, would resort to a single, truly magnificent source of light that would move across the land…
Now, of course, this sounded quite insane already, so as I prodded into why it would need to be like this, matters got vague once more, as the initiate stumbled upon what they could or couldn’t tell me… before one bit of impatient prodding got them to mix it up, by way of them calling this source of illumination a “sun”[8]. And that alone wouldn’t have been a problem, of course, it’s an easy comparison to make when you know what a sun is, but they visibly panicked as soon as they realized they said it, and immediately cut the conversation short with an excuse to depart. That’s when I knew I was on the right track, but that poking at the individuals involved would only get me so far before they caught on.
And so, I saw I’d need to play up my (supposed) terrible eyesight to get “lost” around the tower, and find myself in places where I could find personal documents, schematics, blueprints. The project so described to me sounded far too advanced, far too detailed, to lack such paperwork. Even just the concept artwork would’ve illuminated matters further, pun not intended. I’d need to play up confusion and pull all the rank I could, in order to get there… I’d need far more than credentials for that. I’d need to use all my particular tricks to play the part of someone who could bend ambient energies like nothing, someone attuned to an actual element.
Thankfully, I have my ways, even in that. I had to bring some very particular writings with me, and write down a few more knowing the paper that bore them wouldn’t last especially long, but with this “documentation” I could pull quite a bit of rank indeed, and of course replicate the effects and spectacle to match—effects and spectacle I won’t be sharing in this volume, lest I make it too easy for them to catch on next time.
Either way, with these deceptions at hand, I made my seemingly-clueless way through the tower, playing dull or sharp where each would get me further, and threatening an unaffordably scandalous ruckus with those that couldn’t risk their reputations by picking squabbles with an old veteran… And took the time to enjoy the sights, as well. The inside of a mage tower is quite a place indeed, where each and every stone surface is polished until it shines, and much of the furniture that needn’t move is a part of the structure itself, seamlessly melded until it’s one, or at least looking the part. Crystals of all colors and shapes line the edges of the walls and stairs, too, and grand chandeliers of wood and crystal hanged from the ceiling, centered around a singular bright light, a perfect sphere that was almost blinding to look at. It made my search distracting, I’ll admit, but on I went…
Until I caught the right glimpse at the right time, while asking one of the adepts about a very important and very misplaced letter that should’ve arrived at my door. I could see the briefest concern, and a single glance at an unremarkable spot in the wall as she told me there should be no such letter anywhere, that I must’ve been mistaken, or told the wrong thing, and proceeded to go off on such a hypothetical fool rather than accuse me of anything. And all the while, I could read in her hands and motions that she was resisting the urge to usher me out; she must’ve thought it’d be too suspicious, and she would’ve been right, but unfortunately for her the urge alone gave her away to my eyes, even as she got a little deeper into her own indignant rambling than I believe she intended.
Now, the moment that followed was delicate: I had to find words that would ideally defuse enough suspicion that she wouldn’t tamper with anything in there, try to move it away, and be confident enough to leave it all alone. Or, perhaps, something that would get her out of the way quickly, if not outright suddenly, and for a few key moments, but that was far more of a gamble. I was buying time, looking confused and disappointed at the floor, mind racing…
And I remembered one particular colleague of hers, dour and rather frustrating to talk with, but with clear talent and ambition from what I probed. One that spoke of this adept with a certain tone, measured and diplomatic where it clearly shouldn’t need to be. And then I saw how willing she was to take shots in the dark at whoever had mistakenly led me here, not just to some stranger but to whoever overheard.
Perhaps unwisely, I took a shot in the dark of my own, and told her he had been the one to pass me along here. Or, rather, that’s what I’d taken from his (entirely fictional) mutterings about how it must’ve been addressed for her instead, “just like everything else running above my head”. And at her expression, I pushed further, in that once I turned away I was quite sure I heard something about letters from the Solar Archmage himself! Heated correspondence, he’d said, actively wondering what else they exchanged. Such things you overhear, when you start to lose your sight but your ears pick up the slack… Of course, I clarified I believed nothing of the sort! But “my” letter, it had been so lost, scattered to such depths of bureaucracy, I just had to pick up on any lead I had!
Sometimes these little acts of mine are a guilty pleasure, I’ll say that much.
Nevertheless, I knew I had her by the time I mentioned the Solar Archmage. I could almost measure how much her pupils shrank at his name, and she tensed up quite visibly once I went over these supposed accusations; much as I completely made them up I either hit on a real accusation some had lobbed her way, or perhaps struck closer to home than I thought. Then again, the accusation in itself was serious enough, especially in Ishiss[9]. Whatever the case, she offered me a polite, mirthless little smile, with eyes that hardly saw me, and told me to wait in place while she walked off to “clear up a few things”. Presumably, she refused to let such words go uncontested, but if things ever got violent I could not confirm, much as I’m very certain I would’ve overheard a clash of energies; neither of them seemed like the physical type.
Either way, with luck (and a frankly dirty trick) on my side, I accomplished what I intended, and had clear access to her room while what few eyes were around for the moment laid on her. And so, I slipped in, closed the door as quietly as possible behind me once I was certain she’d left (followed by those, and immediately got to the spot she’d incautiously glanced at while I had poked her about unwarranted correspondence… I found an odd mechanism in place, once I’d actually found the seam in the wall. A very smooth seam it was, with little space to pry it open, and no apparent externals to work with. But leaning in, I caught a few odd energies in there, and playing to them with what I had, I heard the slightest slosh of water somewhere behind the wall. A locking mechanism, hidden away and full of water, one only an Ifchi could normally operate…
Unfortunately for me, I am not an Ifchi, and I hardly had the time to play with locks. Fortunately for me, in turn, this was a very ornamental wall and I bind my many, many notes with a cover thick enough to stop a bullet. So I bashed it open with the corner (it took but one strike, that’s short-sighted security for you), twisted the mechanism manually, opened the tiny vault that popped out of the wall and snatched up all I could find within into my notes. From there, all that was left was to make my exit, opening the door with care to ensure no one’d notice it…
Or, as it turns out, opening the door, immediately finding myself spotted by two apprentices I’d seen and conversed with but minutes ago, and deciding that if I couldn’t leave unseen, then I’d at least stick by my story and cow them at the same time. A simple matter of slipping out while standing tall, a polite smile with an edge of smug on my face, and declaring to them while waving an unremarkable, folded document in the air. “I found my letter!”, I declared with triumphant courtesy, before simply walking away, letting them stare as I departed, unwilling to object or say anything as my sinuous guise took its time to pass them by. And just like that, once I’d tucked it all away and back into my notes, I left, thanking my luck at every turn…
At least, I assume it was luck. That and boldness. Looking unassailable, especially here, is key to not be assailed in the first place, especially when it seems there would be great ignominy in defeat—and with an old, half-blind olm who still stood in the Archmages’ own towers, the chances must’ve looked very poor. No one wants to become an example.
Anyhow, with the actual retrieval behind me, all that was left was to sort through the correspondence in question in a safe place, decoding what yet remained encoded and piecing the details together until I had a more understandable whole. The straightforward letters, background and chaff alike, were first, painting a fuzzy picture of daily life in the Solar Archmage’s shadow. Of cold, almost steely politeness at every turn, and a constant direction in which everyone was to work towards, even as they batted at each other to get ahead. Like fish racing up the river, in ways…
But the picture of what they battled against was a little clearer. It would seem that those that have been swallowed by the darkness from the Lightless East have been particularly troublesome for Ishiss as of late, especially those that have found the way to harness it like other Ifchi would harness water itself. Of these sorts, I’ve heard my meager but solid share, whether it’s those suspected of being “poisoned” by the unnatural darkness until their very personalities were twisted against light as a whole, or those who’ve thoroughly turned against Ishiss even before they went East. Hardly united, but quite ubiquitous past a certain point, and hard to root out, let alone assail without becoming one thanks to the nature of the entity haunting the Ifchi, and the Lightless East as a whole…
Indeed, these are troublesome sorts I’ve heard of before, and I’m not surprised the Magocracy struggles to keep them in check at times, with how insidious they can be even when bright enough light purges their malady. The unciphered letters spoke of the struggles they had, of tactics to root them out, and most of all training methods to bring all in the tower up to par when it came to generating light, so that they could face them undaunted. This, too, is something I knew of, the Solar’s circle is perhaps the main vanguard against the dark, definitely their most public of foes…
What I didn’t know about, and discovered as I cracked the codes, was that the dark has another luminous foe, right outside the public eye.
These unusual, and logistically improbable plans for a single source of illumination wandering the land, a singular “sun”, that the apprentice led me to in their enthusiasm? They weren’t just pipe dreams in a journal. I pieced together multiple seemingly unrelated sketches together into a singular blueprint, a copy of something far more detailed where it was clear not everything had been written down. Just enough to tempt the imagination with an image some would call glorious, others intimidating[10]. An unfathomably huge, yet perfectly spherical mass of crystalline glass, made from sands outside the Subterraneum itself so that it would not be tainted by Radiance, made to travel the lands on a grand arrangement of rails, ratchets and gears, from end to end of Ishiss territory with potential for expansion…
And infused with a single, large spark, ideally brought from an actual sun somewhere outside the caverns. Something that would, in turn, alter every last ray of light coming from this, turning it solar, radiant in a very different way. Bringing a surface’s light to the depths, and in a way, giving the caverns their very own sun.
This may already sound insane, even to a hypothetical[11] layman who just encountered these pages lying somewhere between bricks, all the way on the other side of the caverns. And it may be absurd, to those among my readers who know what suns are in the first place. To those of us who have seen what an actual sun can do to a species that hasn’t felt its light in thousands of years, if ever, the concept is outright psychotic. It’s already a logistical nightmare in every aspect to even fetch such a fueling spark in the first place, whether just scraping it together from energies around an appropriate Exit or actively heading out into one. Not only that, working it into any kind of artifice without a level of incineration and general uncooperativeness that would just wipe materials and artisans alike seems close to impossible. I say this outright, I just cannot envision it, I don’t have the capacity to dream that deeply, let alone the ambition to consider it or the world-rattling conviction (if not delusion) to attempt it.
Yet, delving deeper into the document, I started finding those who had all three, and found them even more concerning than I expected them to be. This isn’t a desperate splinter faction, or a conspiracy vying for control of the Magocracy, or a singular brilliantly mad mastermind with the charisma to have a following. This is a visionary, yet utterly blind and strangely godless cult. A counter-cult, if you will, considering what seemingly made them spring, but a cult nonetheless.
The Second Dawn. Both their name, and their goal. I haven’t yet found any trace of who the founders could be, and its emergence was either remarkably smooth or far enough in the past to have a solid hierarchy; either of these would be quite notable, and very concerning, especially in Ishiss. It would mean there is either serious charisma or a certain passion among its members, to wrangle them together into a common goal with so little in the way of names and renown. There were certainly hints for both possibilities in the material I found, with determination in every strata and those few names I could find bearing silvery tongues (or pens, as the case may be).
Why an actual sun, you might ask. What do they intend by bringing such an antithetical thing to these caverns, just to cast away darkness that can be overcome with entirely normal light. On that, there are some minor splits. They all intend to banish the toxic darkness of the Lightless East, and reclaim[12] the land for themselves once rid of its perfidious influence. But after that, some arguments remain. The unnamed correspondents seemed to prefer keeping it down here, perhaps stretching the Sun’s path Westward, to claim greater and greater territories for the glory of the Magocracy, but those closer to the top, with actual signatures in these letters… They would widen the Exit as much as they could, and bring the Sun back to their old realm, to wage war against the true origin of the darkness and finally take back their realm[13]. Whether it’s just the principle of the matter, vengeance, or delusion in thinking the death of a world can be undone, I don’t yet know, but on this point the bigger names were quite adamant.
Speaking of names, and this datum I will offer freely, the most important one I believe I found would be powerful light-wielder only known as Tirsham (a nickname, I assume), with no surnames to be found. What I did find, however, were descriptions, in terms of who to look for. His coloration is fairly typical, the common whites and reds, but there was one particular detail that made me especially concerned: In most descriptions, when guiding the newest sorts to meeting him, he’s always wearing headgear of some kind. Sometimes a soldier in disguise, with the metal masks of the station, sometimes a clear scion of some central family with thick and expensive lenswork that covers up to his forehead, and sometimes a hooded vagrant by one of the rivers, in charge of little more than a boat for the landbound. And in those exulting descriptions as he presided over their teachings, he was always described as having a single, black scorch, a burn so deep it looks like charcoal, right in the middle of his forehead.
I may need to remind some of you that Ifchi, while soft, are quite hardy, their flesh knitting itself together far better and remarkably faster than anyone else’s. Limbs and innards alike recover eventually, even when plucked off the body entirely, and there’s tales of those that have come back from being split in half, and even head injuries with naught but lost time and memory. To leave a scar on an olm is already an unnatural achievement; a wound that never heals is almost unthinkable. And so, I am left with two possibilities: This Tirsham, the closest thing to a leader of the Second Dawn that I know, he’s either dedicated and insane enough to renew this burn again and again, or came into contact with something so accursed, or so intense, that this gruesome caricature of a third eye will simply never heal again. And not only did he walk away from this, walks away from it every time he wakes… from what I read here, it inspires rather than deters, and leads him forwards into a “glorious future” ablaze with burning light, a future he would have a sunlit hand in, not caring one bit for those who’ll turn to charcoal under it.
This is the kind of zealotry that aims to raise a scorching sun over our heads. It is this worrisome sect that has wormed its way into the tower of the Solar Archmage, at the very minimum, and most likely well beyond it. All of it thanks to the encroaching darkness the Ifchi simply cannot seem to leave behind, pressuring the Ifchi for century after century… leading a few talented sorts to crack like glass, and expose this jagged edge of madness to the world. How many are simply following a promising lead, someone who finally seems to know what they’re doing, and how many truly believe this is what must be done and they will be the ones to make it happen, I do not know yet, but both are clearly there. And with this Tirsham as an exemplar of this Second Dawn…
Well, I would advice the Magocracy to take a very, very close look at their own numbers. I know they have troubles with infiltrates from the East that serve the thing they left behind fairly willingly, as if the whispers in their heads were their own. But for every threat, there is one who would stand against it, hold the reins, and never let go of them again. Sometimes power-hungry… and, as the case may be here, sometimes merely unhinged. They’re not always a problem of any consideration, but here, they might just be. Thus, I shall be leaving a few more copies than usual scattered about Ishiss (city and nation alike), so that they may pick up on my findings a little faster if they haven’t already. I wouldn’t dare assume, one way or the other.
As to my faithful readers, I hope this will not be of any personal risk to any of you, but if it had been, now you know. I’ve laid down the past before your eyes many times before, and I will continue to do so in the future, the truth must be dug out at all times and presented in all its possible fullness, so that we may understand the present, and ourselves… But as you saw today, it’s so very possible to take entirely the wrong lesson from it. Often because one didn’t look deep enough, but I believe in this case, far too many people did not look through a wide enough lens. This is a matter of obsession with a past that cares not for the present, and less so for the future. I hope, in continuing to keep my topics so assorted, wandering the caverns, that I am helping you in not making these mistakes.
Yours Truthfully,
The Ever-Restless Nirrhamidh.
[1]Admittedly, the Magocracy’s irregular borders and shape contribute to this, but there is a near-criminal lack of knowledge about the wonderful and not-so-wonderful places they’ve made. I have a soft spot for Migrudarrush in their southern territories; the Crystalline Lakes as a whole are a beautiful place, and quite lively too. Just because it has less inhabitants than Ishiss (a high bar to clear) doesn’t mean it’s sparse. Still, I must contribute to the problem today, since this particular chronicle isn’t about such places.
[2]To make a long story short, they are one of the few actively pursued into the Subterraneum by the threat that made their realm uninhabitable; you would imagine that would scatter them far and wide rather than maintain much unity, but it seems they fled as one, roamed as one, and even had a nomadic few years before marking the spot that would soon be Ishiss.
[3]A tall order, I know, especially since the only maps that would show the true extent of the waterways would either belong to the Ifchi themselves, or those that have faced them far too many times – and even then, it would be limited in scope. I will readily admit I’ve needed to compile maps for personal use the same way I compile tales, and even then I feel I may need to do my own cartography at some point.
[4]The true extent here is unknown even to the Magocracy, however, as I’ve found out. Apparently due to water pressure and Radiance concentrations, exploring past a certain depth is unfeasibly dangerous, so there could well be some truly humongous volumes of water further down – and similarly humongous things lurking within it, considering the landbound ones that have sometimes dug themselves out of similar depths to make our collective existence difficult.
[5]Granted, those on the rafts are usually kind enough to stop and let you pass if you’re clearly not an Ifchi yourself, but the point still stands. Especially when you need to cross several streets in one sitting, as I had to, testing luck at each crossing until all that’s left is to just bite the bullet. Or give myself away in this case, which is even less of an option.
[6]They call these shards Grish over there, all sheared fairly harmlessly from a variety of local (very large) insects whose chitin reacts to ambient energies by emitting light, even when it’s been plucked off the bugs in question. You can often see some of the more docile Grish beetles as pets, walking right besides their owners.
[7]I will not be revealing any details about who they were, besides position. This bright-eyed one was clearly caught up in promises by someone they trusted, and shouldn’t have listened to, they don’t deserve what would likely come to the actual, knowing collaborators if I understood the scope and implications of the project correctly.
[8]As a small reminder to the residents of older nations, a sun is generally a grand body of light (and often heat) usually present in those places without a ceiling, too far out of reach to interact with in any meaningful manner. The source of said light and heat varies, usually some manner of self-sustaining reaction, but the details go beyond the scope of this volume. More importantly (and one reason it drew my attention), they are particularly relevant in Ifchi culture and history, as their pre-Refuge descendants actually triggered the need for said Refuge by calling upon an entity that killed their sun and flooded their realm with the unique sort of darkness found in the Lightless East.
[9]I don’t mean to say only Ifchi would be upset at being accused of wielding unofficial power thanks to an outside deal with a higher-up, or of being in a higher position in the first place exclusively due to such a deal. Even in a Hive, or the Western Kingdoms, it would get you scowls at best, especially if you nudged on the more lascivious implications (though it may fly in the Consortium, depending on the results of the “transaction”). But hacking away at an Ifchi’s merits like that, declaring that a given one is nothing but a fraud using underhanded methods to climb so far? That they are worse than mediocre at what makes them notable, at what makes their names shine? It’s an especially serious affront, in a nation where you’re expected to show off.
[10]I, speaking for myself, would call them exuberant and overly ambitious, with the same kind of carried-away thinking that leads those who make war engines to think a singular, overly huge and/or complex contraption can solve a battle all by itself. Or war in itself, at times. Though there were worrying pinches of the besieged, murderously desperate thinking you see in people who only know war, and would scorch the very land around them if it meant any of it finally came to an end.
[11]Not especially hypothetical, word of mouth is always a risky one in my readerbase, so I strive for simple curiosity where I can, cumbersome as it will be to get this particular tale to the Western Kingdoms.
[12]Given Ishiss was founded directly outside the influence of the darkness, there is potential controversy on this point. Was the land ever theirs in the first place, when they spent so long fleeing from it and even the edges of the dark were simply scavenged and left behind by nomads rather than actually settled?
[13]As a reminder, said realm is not just lightless now, but so consumed by the entity their forebears called I understand there is no water left to begin with, and the land is now a sandblasted ruin. How it suffered like this while the Lightless East isn’t so consumed evades me yet, but I doubt bringing any light back will somehow return all else that was lost. I cannot assure this, but I have great doubts.
