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Aina - CosmologyOn a visit to Lilandor, I had the opportunity to meet with the Council of Mages as an Ambassador for the Empress. After the meeting, Grand High Councillor Alister Starmere agreed to have a private conversation with me. I had heard that Starmere was one of the foremost experts on Asylonian comsology, and was eager to glean whatever I could from him. Curiously, he pulled a pendant from his neck that I recognized as the seal of office of the Grand High Councillor.
"If Asylon were a pendant," he said, gesturing to the jewelry in his hand, "the Astra would make up the pendant's field. Burnished platinum is the representation of this plane which lies beneath and between all other components of Asylon. It is the void between planes."
"Surrounding Astra is the fabric of Ora, the bulwark that shields the planes of existence from the raw power of Aether. Ora is signified as a band of Adamantine, encircling and protecting the rest
A Guide to Aina pt. 0~Guide to Aina and Her Constituents~
Being a Concise Reference to the Lands, Peoples, and History of this the Greatest Realm beneath the Gaze of Aether's Eye.
By Pilus Valius, Cleric of Asha the Highest
Camilla Doxim IV, Ordained by Heaven, Empress, and Mother and Daughter of Emperors,
Inspiration of Faith and Safeguard of Justice, Praise with Great Praisings!
May the Light of Your Wisdom and the Glory of your Reign
Illuminate this Humble Work of Hand and Heart!
Come to me, Asha, for without you, my resolution falters, and my pen is still and dry, though all the seas were full of ink, and the sky my parchment.
Come to me, Valde, for without you, My Lady and Empress springs from rootless dust, and the Empire is scattered before the winds of war and ignorance.
Come to me, Belnior, for without you, my wit is weak to sort the wheat from the chaff, and my eyes should neither know the true from the false, nor sense from folly, nor justice from preju
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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