Sapience,

I am Linne. To essentially all of you, my name will carry no weight. This is good. Perhaps it will permit my words to ascend to the top of this bubbling cauldron of presumption that seems long left unattended to simmer over. Perhaps it shall give you all the more cause to ignore them. I suppose we shall see either way.

We appear to exist in a time of great upheaval, of grand revelations bearing immense cosmic implications freely shared. Truthfully, it has been a fantastic time to be a scholar of the esoteric - typically such things have been profoundly guarded discoveries in times of yore, hushed and stored away in archives to await those with the mettle to truly understand them. As such things should be.

Alas.

Instead, we are confronted with a reckoning most dire in the visions of the Indelible: a glimpse of a craven Creator indulging the barest, most consummately relatable experience there is - fear. Fear of forthcoming, inexplicable demise, the same ever-present threat that drives some among us to ensconce themselves in stone and blood for strength, and others still to envelope themselves in disciplines of acceptance, rejection, or some combination thereof.

Yet, I see perilously little questioning of what has come to pass. A scorned Goddess returns from an experience unknowable thrust upon Her by the betrayal of Her Brother with a truth beyond truths, the academic equivalent of a beast beyond reckoning deigning to detonate the moon once again. Somehow, no Creator descends to chastise us or confront this most unpleasant truth, one that threatens to rattle the foundations of all that we know and hold dear.

We now loom upon the precipice of a world in which the worship of entities which have unequivocally and categorically proven to wish Sapience direct harm is now considered more acceptable than before. Entities which to my knowing are bolstered by such practices, empowered ever further to ruin and destroy all that we hold dear.

This is not logical.

You must ask yourselves, I plead of you, from what facet of the erstwhile Five does this Indelible revelation descend? Many of you cling to the vestige of the Witness in absolute surety, judging Lexadhra's vision as pure, impartial observation, and anything to the contrary as infantile rejection of a simply painful truth.

But that is not all that can be seen.

Bear witness to the thought of Elder Greed, and the spiteful inclination to set the world aflame in the pursuit of a vengeance absolute. To hand the starving masses a delectable scrap of scented detritus, and to grin with wry amusement as they squabble among themselves for the prize that shall ultimately chip their teeth, and wound the ones who once wounded Her.

To know is not to understand.

Please, ask yourselves what you see.

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 4th of Lanosian, in the year 501 MA.