Lore, Sagas, Short story, Weekend

Lament of Sages [archive].

It is not our place as Sages to offer any more to any other race or folk, save to advise and tell of the histories of those peoples as though they were the center of the world themselves. We travel across the world freely, and have grown so trusted that we can offer council to the greatest of foes openly without a challenge ever being considered, or daring to be asked about the other.

We have our influence and power across the world at a cost. Call it heartless if you will, but being one of the Sages means accepting that you will, to the end of your days, write and retell history about the world to add to the library of Karadren. And to choose the whole over the individual, regardless of their plight. Else we are no different to the Adranis or Varaí, or even the Mages –And all the mistrust they inspire.

The way to avoid this calling or fate is to leave the tower of Karadren and never return. Never again to spread the lore of lands or offer council to another, for this would risk the reputation of the Sages and all the work we have done to ease peace into otherwise unavoidable war and destruction. The Adranis did so when they, like parts of the Varaí, sought power and longevity. A path the Dual God took no exception with as they practiced their own ways far from others on the spine of the world.

It is not just a rule for us to enforce, but one that offers horrifying consequences when one openly defies the law of our blood. The world has seen, yet we only remember in whispers and not in the library, those Sages who chose a different path. To go out alone and take sides, to influence conflicts unfairly and speak false truths of a folk’s history. The Dual God himself has punished Sages who transgress in such ways. With the horror of shadow flame, they have been wrenched from the world, kept living by the power of that which scorches and burns.

But mercy is always an option, especially to those who suffer in conflict without being big or strong enough to grasp a shield or sword. Those helpless urchins upon the streets of cities where kings and queens seem to rule the void between the heavens and the earth. They are the subtle exceptions to which the Dual God has put in place. Even still, we must remain careful to not attract the attention of others as we conjure. It may be noble to conjure food for those who barely have clothes for their backs, but some more scrupulous would take advantage. They would send all those they cannot feed and profit upon to the tower in Karadren for us to feed, house and clothe them, and the mortal kingdoms to prosper. This too has happened before.

The life of a Sage is to inspire hope and heroism, all while offering little in the way of an example to follow. We have the power to do so, but born with us and our blood is the promise that it will never be used.


2 thoughts on “Lament of Sages [archive].”

  1. Doomed to watch the world repeat anew the faults made so many times before, each time with the certainty that it will not be again the same outcome as before. Each time poisoning the well a little more.

    Liked by 1 person

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