Cartographies and Colonies

Notes from the Iestyn 002

Vai’esyllt’s signet feels heavy on my hand.

We have delved the deep. The Urumali were being cagey, so it was pretty obvious they were all in the cahoots. Maybe Nafu needs like more proof proof like physical or something cause she just wanted to believe and act like it wasn’t plain they were cahooting about all wanting to steal me. Probably political stuff. Their chief is dead. And zombies.

I remember it was important, if a House struck another, that it wasn’t illegal if no proof as found. If there was any proof, then all the other Houses would tear them apart into flinders, even if they survived the coup against their enemy on the grounds of the illegality.

Memories. I don’t like the banners.

Eyes the Unseelie weaving feel like eyes to the planes. No more eyes of Lloth, Vhaerhun or any of the other dark powers on me ever again. I cried all that out and smashed it all over plenty of trees decades and decades ago.

Going down the hole was like going back.

I never went back but suddenly its like forever and a flying pillow away and I am. And the King of the Wylde Hunt starring plain at us.

And a Library.
Gnolls don’t even understand what writing IS.

Kaya might have been able to read. Maybe. Maybe read basics. But that’s not good enough.

A clan might keep a, singular, not plural, book around as an oddity for like shamans or something as their precious ‘history’ ancestor stuff.

Not a whole library.

Not a whole library a hop and jump away from the city of the ‘reigning power’ with teeth taia and ‘ancestors’ fishing doesn’t know that magic comes from runes and doesn’t always turn things purple or give them extra tails. There’s another power on this island, and it doesn’t believe in ‘anansi’. It remembers the old words.

Keeshen wun nind ehmtu ratha. Ori’gato l’xan’ss Ilharess neitar tlu nym’uerus wun nindolen tullusas. Lloth tlu flamgraus lu’t’larryo. (Daggers in their own backs. Let the word ‘Matron’ never be heard in these halls. Lloth be burned and broken. )

Someone had to teach her how to read. Someone who makes the gnolls respect the paper blocks of useless and keep them safe and hidden.

Someone who owns all the books. Someone, or someones. No one seems to believe me, or notice, other than thinking there might be a ‘necromancer’. I don’t think they know what the word could mean. What books mean. If the original isn’t alive, their children could be.

There’s no other Houses here to war with.
Drow don’t find paradise, just go on living…..Io’s breath from even the Ard Righ’s day if it comes to it.

We aren’t safe.
I’m not safe.



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