In a recent essay on human titles, Paidreg Venquinor, called the Twice-Born, has the temerity to call my people arrogant. As sorcerers well know, the power of naming is power indeed, so let us consider Paidreg's own appellation. Why is it that he is twice-born? Is it because he passed first through the front of his mother and then once more out of her back side? Here is a theory sure to generate wonder in even the most experienced empath. Or perhaps Paidreg, called the Twice-Born, is called the twice-born because there is an open debate over which of his mother's two most favored lovers is indeed his father. I will leave this human mystery for human scholars.
The twice-born must leave his books half-read since he claims the Faendryl “deviated from millennia of tradition to forge their own bloody path.” In what way? By having the courage to save the world? By falling victim to scurrilous accusations and political maneuvering? Paidreg would have us sound the death knell of genius in favor of the current state of affairs. He has no cognizance whatsoever of the lurking horrors just outside of our vision. It is the Faendryl and only the Faendryl who have fully embraced a societal structure attuned to cosmic truths. His human empire thinks they have overcome slavery because the accidents of history put the whips and chains in their own hands. The warden has gone. The guards are absent. The cell doors are open and the prisoners will never step outside because they are too busy proclaiming their freedom from within the same musty confines.
Paidreg, called the twice-blind, looks over this landscape and claims his compatriots have “fashioned the greatest society since the rule of the drakes.” He can slither up the steps of the Koarite temple and proclaim his discovery but it will still go unheard in New Ta'Faendryl, where the possession of true freedom is our privilege and burden. The Turamzyrrians pretend order as a means to distract from the brief banality of their lives. I pity them. I pity Paidreg who will be twice-dead on some cold evening while I am sipping my tea and weaving plans two centuries at a time.
Silvean Rashere
Written on Tilamaires, the first day of Imaerasta, during the reign of Korvath Dardanus Faendryl, Patriarch XXXIX, honor to his name.
