Artistic Rendition of Nico

Nico

Metadata

Reference Number: BICI/SSP/CRJ1004/001

Title: Artistic Rendition of Nico

Artist: Aimi

Extent: One illustration

Description: An artistic rendition of Nico, represented as the people of this time commonly understood him to look like.

“What kind of Undying Ember sheds the Keeper of the Forge’s blessing?”

-Spica, on Nico

Introducing Nico, a mischievous boy full of secret-

Introducing Nico, who was loved by-

Introducing Nico, a survivor-

Introducing Nico, my-

Introducing-

Nico.

Journal Entry, Dated 10/02

Jasmine

Metadata

Reference Number: BICI/SSP/CRJ1004/002

Title: Journal Entry, Dated 10/02

Author: Jasmine

Date: Written approximately 10/02, Year 5607 A. o. W.

Extent: One journal entry, three pages long

10/02

I might die tonight.

I hope I don’t, but hope hasn’t been a friend of mine for many years.

Based on the sliver of moonlight I can see through the treeline, it must be about midnight. That leaves me with roughly six more hours to suffer until sunrise. I’m no stranger to willing my nights to pass by faster, but those were born of impatience. Tonight? The faster the sun rises, the more likely I am to survive. 

Aberrations are terrible, twisted abominations. I knew this, but it’s one thing to know something and an entirely other thing to see it up close. Leathery gray skin, like a dried out corpse. The way they move is just so… wrong, like a human’s lopsided imitation of a sprinting dog. And their cries are horrifying. I grew up hearing them wail from beyond our walls, but only ever from a distance. Most nights, the roar of the ride would drown them out. Like Nothingness itself grew tired of hearing their screams.

Up close, the sound is ear-splitting — a terrible mix of a baby’s cry and a dying animal screech. Just a brush of their awful flesh leaves me with strange, icy burns. That’s not even to mention their jagged teeth and claws, which can slice through skin like paper. I was able to get away before one did me any permanent damage, but my shitty bandages will only do so much. I’m fucked if it gets infected.

The worst thing about aberrations is that I’m nearly defenseless before them. One lunged at me earlier. I shoved my knife into the thing’s shoulder, but my attack didn’t slow it down at all. It didn’t even bleed. That I managed to get my knife back at all was a miracle. I was able to ward it away with a makeshift torch by lighting a stick with my lantern, but even that hardly did any damage. 

The Undying Embers always said that weapons forged by His Eternal Warmth are the only things that can kill aberrations. I used to think that was religious nonsense. Now, I know they were undercutting themselves; those weapons are the only things that can touch an aberration at all. But it’s not like I could have gotten my hands on one before I left. No one would give a holy weapon to some village girl. What would I even give in exchange? Oil? Seaglass? A fucking fish? Please.

I’ve made camp for the night, or something close enough to it. I have a bedroll next to me, but my back is firmly pressed against a tree. I’m exhausted, but the fire blazing in front of me is the only thing protecting me. If I don’t tend to it, I’ll die. It wards away the aberrations, though I can still hear their screams echoing through the rest of the woods. 

I didn’t want to make camp. I have to keep moving. But torchlight isn’t enough to protect me in the darkness. My back is far too open. It’ll be easier once I get out of these damned woods, but the aberrations chased me off the main path. I have no idea where I am. The fishers could orient themselves by starlight, and Mom once offered to teach me, but I never bothered to learn. Thought it was a pointless skill. I regret that now.

According to my map, the eastern path out of Seabreeze Shoal should have led me to the Tending Grounds. The village of Stonesworth is further north, by the river. Come morning, I don’t know if I can make it back to the eastern path safely, but I can likely stumble my way towards the river. If I end up at Stonesworth, then all I’ll need to do is follow the river south.

I should have grabbed more supplies before I left. The map is indispensable, but I need more bandages. I need more food. Dried fish, pickled vegetables, and stale bread will only last so long. I need a fucking compass.

I’m so tired. But I can’t let myself sleep. What else can I write about…

Oh…

Once, when Blossom was still a baby, Mom showed me an injured fish she caught the night before. It had clearly been attacked — half of its back was nothing but a gaping hole — and yet it still flopped and floundered like every other fish in her cramped bucket. I asked Mom how it could still be alive, and she told me that a strong enough spirit can keep moving a broken body. 

I didn’t think of that fish for years. But now, I can’t stop thinking of it. A piece of me is gone regardless, but more and more of me would have sloughed off had I stayed in the lighthouse. Until I was nothing more than one of the ghosts haunting the place.

Ugh. The scratches on my leg hurt…

I’m used to burns, not scratches. It was worse when I first started tending the lighthouse. Blossom would see me trying to bring bread up to my mouth with just my palms during breakfast and ask why I was doing that, or she’d see my burnt fingers and ask why they were so red and puffy. I’d snap at her that I got burned. She didn’t understand that fire could hurt. She thought it only warmed and protected us. 

The lantern room was sweltering. I can tolerate the heat now, but I couldn’t stand it when I first started. Blossom never understood that; she was used to cool winds and gentle fires. The lighthouse was her greatest refuge. When I told her that it was awful, she told me that I was wrong. She screamed that the lighthouse was a good place. That I was stupid and wrong. And that maybe if I could hear the songs that lived in the walls, I’d stop being so stupid and wrong.

Her and her stupid songs.

I’ll never hear one of her stupid songs again.

I didn’t cry when I realized Mom was never coming back. The hole she left me with took my tears away. I cried when I realized Dad had gone after her, but not because I missed him. I cried because I was so angry at him. 

Now Blossom’s dead. And this hole is bigger than it’s ever been. 

On the Theory of the Existence of Aberrations, and How They Exemplify the Might of His Eternal Warmth

Scritta

Metadata

Reference Number: BICI/SSP/CRJ1004/003

Title: ON THE THEORY OF THE EXISTENCE OF ABERRATIONS, AND HOW THEY EXEMPLIFY THE MIGHT OF HIS ETERNAL WARMTH

Author: M. R. L. Scritta

Date: Written approximately Year 5550 A. o. W.

Extent: One academic paper, excerpts shown here

ON THE THEORY OF THE EXISTENCE OF ABERRATIONS, AND HOW THEY EXEMPLIFY THE MIGHT OF HIS ETERNAL WARMTH, by M. R. L. Scritta

Abstract: Aberrations, the twisted monsters that have a seemingly innate desire to attack any and all humans, are an accepted fact of the world. These creatures are neither alive nor dead. It is common knowledge that aberrations are the manifestation of the enigmatic non-being Nothingness His Eternal Warmth suppressed while creating the world. Common apologetic discourse argues that if His Eternal Warmth was truly almighty, that He would obliterate the aberrations once and for all. The common rebuttal is that Nothingness cannot ever be fully eradicated, and so His Eternal Warmth provides us the tools to suppress Nothingness instead. In this paper I will argue that His Eternal Warmth could eradicate all aberrations should He desire, but He, in His wisdom, chooses not to. Instead, He forges weapons and creates Undying Embers to allow His people to participate in the cleansing of this world. Through that, He allows us to better know and understand both His might and His power.

Keywords: Aberrations, origins, Nothingness, God-King, Undying Embers, forging, smithing, togetherness

[…]

Section 2.1: The Nothingness

The original word can best be spelled as hrimkrey, given our current alphabet. The definitive translation of His Eternal Warmth’s origin is On The Origin of His Eternal Warmth, The God-King Above, The Keeper of the Forge Eternal, He Who Sparked Life Into Being by B. L. Senka. As quoted there, Nothingness is described as, “The beginning. The cold absence of light, life, and everything at all.” [4] We don’t have a direct correlation to Nothingness in the modern tongue. Capitalizing it to render it a unique subject is the closest we can approximate, especially given the additional context as described here. 

The Nothingness is both an abstract concept and an innate part of our reality. In the modern day, we do not often face the Nothingness itself. No one knows what exists beyond the edges of the world for certain, but the prevailing line of thought is that Nothingness itself dwells beyond the fog wall at the edges of the land. [25] While His Eternal Warmth defeated the Nothingness, B. L. Senka’s translation goes on to say, “[His Eternal Warmth] overcame Nothingness itself with His mighty forge.” That, “He drove away the cold and dark with heat and light.”

Drove away does not imply full eradication, but a pushing back to another place. Thus, we can safely assume that the Nothingness still exists somewhere in the world. 

Some theorize that the only time human souls come into contact with the Nothingness is upon the moment of death. E. W. Scrimshaw goes into detail in his own book, believing that souls brush Nothingness as they leave their bodies and travel to the Forge. The Forge, then, can be seen as the active barrier keeping humanity safe from the Nothingness.

[…]

Section 2.6: The Origin of Aberrations

There are no mentions of aberrations in B. L. Senka’s myth. Nothingness is referred to several times. As His Eternal Warmth created the world, Nothingness, “…was driven away”, and the piece later notes that, “At the end of life was Nothingness, to reclaim what [His Eternal Warmth] had stolen away.” Those are but two examples of Nothingness within the work, but neither refer to aberrations. 

Where, then, do we come to the realization that aberrations are extensions of Nothingness? The answer is to be found in the declarations of the first Flame-Feeder. As noted by B. L. Senka, the first of the Flame-Feeders announced to the people of what is now known as Strinarre that aberrations were Nothingness’s attempt to claw back the world from His Eternal Warmth. [16] These manifestations of Nothingness rise up from below the forge. 

Some have argued that aberrations should come from the sea, commonly known to be where Nothingness fully dwells. [17] Yet reality shows that this is not the case, as aberrations have never come out of the sea. Eyewitnesses describe them as having “come from nowhere”[18], but additional eyewitnesses have seen them dig themselves up from below ground [19]. Water acts as a natural barrier to aberrations. The creatures do not have lungs, but they cannot survive when submerged in bodies of water.

[…]