The following is written by a minor poet who lived around 100 years before the events of the comic.
A night as bright as day was lost within
a slash. The stars were scattered on the earth
in droves, and from their ashes witches rose
across the land and conquered those who dared
to stand against their stolen magic. Then,
when Ouroboros saw what they had done
he searched among the fallen and disgraced
to find the man who'd save us from their reign.
And soon he found a savior to us all,
Marek, Prophet of the Zenith's Lord,
who rose an army of the gods to fight
the servants of the Witch. And by their swords
the stolen magic fled unto the sky,
their kingdom toppled, gone within the year.
And yet, the witches that survive roam free,
a blemish on our lands beneath the stars.
This poem was written by the current Poet of the Realm, Tereshi Liani. She wrote this poem while still living on her family's estate, something reflected in the poem itself.
I peer through my window and see down below
The fields as they sprawl and the vines as they bloom,
The workers at peace with the lives that they lead,
A life of simplicity, beautifully free.
Behind me, through walls made of marble and oak
The servants move swiftly to clean up the house,
And in through the window a breeze crawls about,
Ticking my skin as it rustles my hair.
On days such as these I look through my heart
And find in there sparks of a joy that was lost,
But days such as these with their beauty and grace,
I find myself looking out over the land
And stretching my hand out to reach for the sun
As if I might hold him in place for a while.
The following is an excerpt from The Divine Charge, written by the Prophet Marek. This segment is a portion of the summary of the Book of the Witch, written in the common tongue so that the Gelenians do not have to dirty themselves by reading the Witch’s blasphemy in order to understand their enemy.
Three-hundred years ago, when the stars were dense in the sky, a family of legend lived. Within this family was the father, born under the constellation of the Smith, capable of smithing the fragments of stars. There was the eldest child, born under the Traveler, delving into ruins lost to time. There was also the daughter, born signless, and the first witch to ever live. Then there was the youngest, born under the Tree, a boy of little renown.
He lived with their mother as the others traveled to distant lands. When she fell ill he consulted the stars, and as he gazed upon the Tree, an idea formed within him.
So it was that he called upon his family in a plot to save her life. The sister pored over her research and created the perfect spell, the eldest retrieved one of his most recent plunders, and the father smithed it into a blade capable of slicing the firmament.
When the time came, the boy took these things upon himself and ascended unto the heavens. From it he plucked the fruit of life, and with it healed their mother. However, the Wound he created lingers to the present day. From it bleeds the gods, and upon the earth, the stars fall.
In establishing the firmament as he did, Ouroboros sought to protect us in two ways. For the first he wished to prevent the ascension of any future gods, and for the second he wished to prevent the mingling of the heavens and earth. In creating the Wound that cursed family of legend violated both of these holy purposes. In tearing the firmament the starfall was created, and soon after the boy healed the mother, the sister ascended for herself and became the Witch. In one act of transgression, the firmament was defiled for all eternity. Ouroboros seeks to heal the damage that was done, and yet the influence of witches on the earth slows him. It is not only this. What transgression was done once can be done again. Where the transgression of a family created a Wound, the transgression of a people could create True Death. Where witches hide in cities, heaven fears their magic might destroy the firmament and call the stars upon the earth to bring the rapture. This is why I seek to cull the children of the Witch, for such is the will of Ouroboros, God Eternal.
