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Oof, I got "distracted" with real life and studies, let me catch up now, impressive how much moved forward in a few days, haha.


Deborah waited patiently as everybody made their introductions, arms crossed and smiling, looking the best she could as everyone stared at each other getting their first impressions. The mood had been nice yet tense, everyone seemed friendly, wishes of friendship along with fears of injury and death. She smiled softly as Alexandria ran head first into a faux pas, one that did not involve her undergarments for once, though it was a question that everyone was likely thinking as well.

"Yes, pardon the curiosity, but it is a bit peculiar. Is it a case of a total lack of magical sensibility or you just didn't adapt well to your house's traditional teachings?" she questioned, so her new friend would not be lone in her act. Though she suspected it was likely not the former case, being exceptional was the baseline for the school, and magic didn't always need to be sparks and fireworks, her own magic was quite discreet and focused on her senses and memory, for example, if she had developed it on its own instead of inheriting it she could have lived her whole life without noticing her own magical skills.

The pleasant mood was completely soured by that cute silver-haired boy she had seen so many times, it seemed he was a quite sensitive person, acting irrationally to the point his first act was to try to bully the blind girl. If she was not in a good mood she would have lost any goodwill towards him, though the day had been nice, with Alex's shenanigans and nobody bringing up any saint her family might have slain, so she perceived it more on the side of pitiful. So she chuckled dismissively at the act, though many took offense, including Alexandria.

Lucas was the last to present himself, and he brought a point of her interest. "I am interested in seeing that pond, seems like a waste that nobody can use it, plus, a pond so mystical to house Kappas ought to have some nice proprieties in its water. Yet, I am unsure if this is quite a Pokemon knowledge zone, Mr. Pikachu, I am sure Kappas fall in Youkai Watch or Shin Megami Tensei?" she smiled briefly before stopping herself. "Jokes aside, Alex is right, this is no video game. If violence was a possible solution, I am sure the veterans or the staff would have applied it already, it's not like Kappa are apex creatures, so I am left wondering why nothing is done. It could be cultural and religious respect, it could be a test or even a ruthless filter for overly curious students, but this is just guesswork...

She turned towards the direction of the kitchen, though her vision was blocked by a wall. "Oh, the water is ready. Just a minute." she quickly left and after some moments, returned. In her hand, a bowl of Anko, sweet red bean paste. It was mostly for herself, though she couldn't help but to take a spoon and offer it to the Petit Princess. "Here, taste this~" she said, holding the spoon near Alex's face.

@ReusableSword@Hammerman@Hitman


As soon as the first hint of a silhouette appeared, Deborah sighed, placing her knife back and relaxing her face, though the pout remained, no longer a reflex of her aiming, the expression was there due to the fact she just had had the wrong reaction, she had trusted the raw data too much. Of course, she had already fixed the mistake, but pointing a weapon at the wrong target was unacceptable.

"Memorandum to work on the Antikythera's context recognition and to schedule instinct taming training sessions." she told herself, letting her magic make sure she would not forget it. Then she stopped and fully relaxed, just in time for the headmaster to step into the light and introduce himself.

Of all the things he said, the kappa business was what truly had hit her, it was already bad if it was a pool, but if he referred to a hot spring, that would be a disgrace, as it was something Deborah looked forward to in her first trip to Japan.

Moving into the forest, towards their dormitory, the heiress was pleased to see it was a quite pleasant and elegant looking building. She followed in the middle of the group, with no rush in mind. Once inside, it was time for quick scouting, her eyes quickly capturing the names of games and books available, as well as taking note of the layout of the building, all that while Alex and Ryanne started the round of introductions. By coincidence, she moved into the kitchen along with Levi, not to raid it, but to take note of its supplies. "Excuse me, Mr. Hall, I will just take a brief look!" she said as she approached, looking over his shoulder and into the fridge. The roll call had allowed her to know at least the surname of each student, Antikythera was tailored to notice the most minute of facial expressions, such as the ones that come by instinct when one hears their name.

"Mostly local vegetables and fruit, lacking in dairy and meat variety, a rich selection of spices... But alas, No wine..." she told herself as she continued her analysis, before turning around. "Ah well, autre pays, autre coutume. Good thing I memorized a few cookbooks on local recipes." going to the oven and starting to heat up some water, she would not patiently wait for it, however, instead, she left the kitchen, seeking to rejoin the main group.

Back onto the main room, she moved to Alexandria's side, seeing the introductions still being made, she joined them. "I am Deborah of house Nibelung. I look forward to working with you."

@Hammerman@Dark Light

Drakus's answers made her blink rapidly when he mentioned her being on his 'way' "Monsieur, I am leaning against a railing." her hand raised to above her shoulder and pointed towards the horizon behind her. "And that is the sea. A quite frigid one too."

Conversation then shifted back to her side. With a raised eyebrow and a smug half-smile, Deborah looked down at Alexandria, turning a bit while still leaning against the rail. "Ah, that is quite a question, isn't it? One side of me thinks answers to questions such as these are earned, the other half is getting quite embarrassed with the intensity of that stare towards my thighs." she answered in good fun.

She then stared upward, looking puzzled. "This wind is getting faster than the average of this region, I also do not recall any weather forecast predicting any anomaly of this sort." as she spoke, her eyes had a soft glow, she looked to the side and the wind became even stronger, and to top that, it started to wail, or something of the sort. "Ah, this is definitely not the usual."

Her rapier and her gun were away, stored among the luggage, though since her magical power was not offensive, she always had at least one weapon on her, so raising up her coat a bit, 'hot pants' being the answer to Alexandria's question, she picked up a small silver knife hanging on the side, staring into the dark with a soft pout and a squint.
Deborah's eyes turned from the crowd back to the Lionheart, she had heard that name before, as it was typical for students of the great houses. "Ah, La petite princesse. Delighted to meet you. I am Deborah Nibelung, Scion from Burgundy, France." she then placed a hand in her own hips, raising one eyebrow. "Oh, and thank you for the worry, but I have the modesty issue covered well. You see, it's all not unlike a battle, you need situation awareness, to know where your body stands, to know from where enemies could be looking, to account for natural hazards. Oh! And, of course, resource management, you need to reach your objective using the least resources, but you cannot risk a shortage." as she spoke, she turned around and stepped back to face Alex, leaning her back against some railing.

"But fret not, you can always count on your allies to cover your flanks in such battles." she placed a hand on her torso, before doing a little finger gun with said hand, pointing towards Mei as she had just approached. "The rearguard as well."

Her eyes then continued to scan the surroundings, eventually sighting a silver-haired, golden-eyed, student. She remembered seeing him in the halls, and once again she had met his gaze, though she had also noticed him looking at Alex before. "Hello again." they had, of course, never talked to each other before, the words were an acknowledgment of the other passenger scout.

@Hammerman@Dark Light@Reshy134
► Déborah Nibelung
► Sailing to The School of Death


Antikythera was a spell of contradictions and ironies. So many times it robbed Deborah of the pleasure to be found in hobbies and daily activities, yet, in a situation such as the one she found herself in, it paradoxically could make her the least bored woman among all the passengers of the ship. With its memory enhancement, all Deborah had to do was to focus and sipping imaginary tea would be as 'real' to her senses as consuming the real thing. She could spend the rest of the trip rewatching moves on the blank walls of her room, or replaying games in a non-existent handheld console. But this was not a trip for pleasure, it was a business trip, and as such, the heiress much preferred to spend her time in the few areas where one was allowed to stand outside of her room, memorizing the face of her future colleagues.

Eventually, she grew tired, and returned to her room to sleep, only to be woken up by a rude crash-like sound. Unfortunately, Antikythera slept along with her, some of her family could keep it always aware of its surroundings, but not her, so the origin and moment of the sound were lost to her. She did some maths in her mind and waited two minutes and twenty-six seconds in her room before leaving, aiming for the perfect balance between avoiding the crowd of curious students and not being too late to the party.

Leaving, she immediately noticed the architecture of the land and the stars in the night sky above, last she remembered they were past her "homeland" of France and near Spain, now, they were definitely near Japan. In her burgundy colored coat with long boots covering most of her legs, she was quite comfortable.

She spent some time noticing her surroundings, before noticing a situation to her left. "Madam, be a bit more careful" With a soft smile, she grabbed the sides of a student's skirt, bringing it down a bit. "Else everyone on the deck might discover what color of lingerie you are wearing." she glanced back facing anyone who was looking at Alexandria with a soft judgemental smirk.

@Hammerman@Hitman

Last Tsoti is out and I will be honest, I got tired of writing this bit. I had lost the voice of the characters, it was stagnating, and I had no idea how to write the intricacies of the moment. I still liked it a lot, but overall, it was not what I had imagined, so I glossed over some bits to get it going, closure to certain plots will be given later.

There are still two more chapters of Mesathalassa history to go through, so let's hope I can do even better on the next one.

Oh, and as I mentioned, there will be an overall summary of everything relevant before I start to write the next one, making it a good jump in point if anyone missed the start of everything and the last two chapters.


TSOTI 7 (Final) (64 PR to 73PR)

It didn’t take long for everyone to realize Mavadzugji was back. Of course, Dzora and Batsami were the first ones to find him, the Manyadjir hugging her friend.

“It has been so long! It feels like an eternity since we last saw you!” the girl confessed. “Gods! Things have been so intense over here that I feel like you were gone for ages!”

”I felt the same, in all honesty, I have discovered so many things it seems hard to believe such little time has passed since I have last been here. It feels like I travelled in time and am seeing old friends.”

Of course, upon looking up and down at the young woman, he had to bring up the elephant in the room. ”That… is a lot of silver, eh? Something happened?” with the generous donations of all those who were interested in his writings, Batsami had climbed up the social ladder considerably, her dress full of true silver accessories denounced that.

“This dress was a gift from Llapur.” she deflected. “Halele, you just arrived and is already judging me, I’d rather keep the memory I was constructing of someone nice!”

Dzora laughed, but looked at the side, Mavadzugji had grown into quite a celebrity over the course of one year, so it was best if they moved already. “Let’s go home, okay? You two can keep up with each other once we are in the privacy of our house. It should not take too long before your priest friends also come over.”




In the time he was away, a lot had changed, much of it was due to the influx of writings about foreign lands. The common spirit of unity among dusklanders grew stronger among the common folk, while the chieftains and elders of clans grew worried, many had also started to be more aware and worried about the situation of their people as a whole in comparison to the rest of the world. Written language was spreading fast, especially among the population of the larger towns and villages.

Batsami had been slowing down the process of releasing the new parchments, as production was hard and they were still ironing out how to make the whole thing faster, scribes worked faster on works they already knew, but after a few copies, they became irritated with doing it over and over, so she had created cycles of works and consulted with each of the six scribes Tsefo had to know what they would like to do next.

Another process stopping the release of new writings as soon as they arrived was the need of clay murals to represent each work. Mavadzugji wasn’t sure that was really a need, but Batsami had tried to add parchments without murals and many were ignored, most people learned to read as they tried to read these works, so a visual representation of it was welcomed. And the family Batsami had making the murals had become quite ambitious with their projects, in particular, the world map, based on Mavadzugji’s writings, was something that was taking a long time but was becoming quite majestic (even if largely inaccurate).

As such, all of his land studies had been taking a while to be distributed, so far only the one touching the harbour kingdoms and the hainlands had been released, but since the Tsefo priests had all read the writings, the whispers of what was in later works had been circulating wildly, and needless to say, Alefpria was a hot topic.

It felt too much like the tale of the man who had invited a cougar into his home to eat the rats, only to be eaten by it once the rodents were gone, but the apparition of this new popular foreign figure was a good hit on Elysian cults, eroding the strength they had within the dusklands. Llapur, in particular, had been excited for the release of the writings on Alefpria because of how good it could be in the tensions against the southern tribes.

Since both had a base in dusklander myths, the heavenly daughter and the earthly son, Mavadzugji expected to be able to tame the beast once they got tired of fighting one another. But that was for later, once he had a strong theory to support his ideas.

“Hmmm, what else, what else. Oh! Tura wrote a cookbook.” Batsami said, having run out of topics to update Mavadzugji on.

”A what?”

“Its a compilation of recipes from all the corners of the dusklands. She has been doing a lot of travelling, and in my opinion, is one of the best at organizing younger priests into doing observation work. She sent a bunch out to talk with distant villages or refugees and has collected recipes from all sides of the Dusklands, from the delta to the tsefo valley to the mountainlands.” saying that Batsami picked up it and then laughed “She is more worried about safekeeping the cultures of the duskland than you at times. I know it sounds impossible… I guess, she focuses more on individual cultures while you focus on a unifying common ground? If that makes sense… look, I don’t know, I am not a priest or a reader, just take the thing already.”

Mavadzugji nodded and picked it up, and immediately noticed it was not a scroll, but a bunch of sheets of paper one over the other and bound together. ”What is this?” he said in sheer confusion.

“Tura didn’t like how each recipe didn’t have proper separation in scrolls, so she kept playing around with types of paper, clue, leather, clay, wax, until, uh, she showed up with this. She is a bit of an erratic genius that one.”

”She is great at organizing things.” he noted, reading more of the texts before setting it aside. ”And Tsevami?”

“Just been doing poetry as of late, really vanished from the leading ranks of Tsefo, he doesn’t care much for all the politics and theoretical works.” she pointed at a scroll. “He did some amazing work teaching others how to read, though. Without his system we would have been done for.”

”Well, we shouldn’t force him to do things he doesn’t like.”

“But sometimes I feel like he wants to be more at the centre of it all and becomes frustrated when it isn’t the case.”

”Heh, it's cute to see you worrying so much about others, seems like the times as my Manyadjir has changed you a whole lot.” he said, playfully rubbing her head as if she was a child.

“You remember I can easily beat you down, right?” she puffed her cheeks. “Drop that.”

”But I am sincere, thank you Batsami, I could not have done this with you. Hopefully, I can ease your work schedule. How have things with Llapur been? It seems you have finally met him, and from what I got, you…”

She sighed. “Well, I taught him and other clan important people to read. I… got him to talk a bit with me, but I had no chance to be charming with a bunch of old men annoyed that they can’t figure out the squiggles on paper.” she then smirked. “But he will come around again, there is this girl, cute little one, red-ish hair but dusklander features, I think she is related to someone close to his cycle. I think some sort of bastard child? At first, he was a bit arrogant towards her, but he seems to want to train her. I was like, thinking of keeping her close.”

”Do you want to reword that? You are making it sound unethical…”

Batsami looked up and then widened her eyes. “Oh! Right! No! Like, she likes to read about other places, and I taught her how to figure out the language, I do like her, I mean, getting Llapur to visit more often is nice too, I guess… His brother will also come over to study, and that would bring Llapur over anyway, but, eh, I don’t like his brother, Tsilluhan, he is a bit on the weird side…”

The conversation was interrupted by Dzora arriving with a plate of juice and fried flour cakes. She brought a lot, as she expected more people to arrive soon, and she was right, it did not take long before many Tsefo priests were over to welcome back their unofficial leader.

”Tura, it is great to see you again, great work while I was away.” he bowed to her, and Tura bowed back. Hugs were a common greeting among dusklanders, but not between priests.

“Ah, glad you liked. But I feel like I have done little in comparison to what you have done. How do you write so much so fast!”

”I had one chance to write down all I was learning, and it was while I was in the abbey. I missed a whole lot of content, but I managed to do what I considered to be the most important.” he smiled. ”I still have things in my mind that I need to write down, but I will leave that for later, today, I want to see my friends and siblings in vocation.”

The conversation was pleasant and casual at first, but, it did not take long before the topic went back to the many questions the priests had had while reading the works of Mavadzugji. Some were silly, like if tiger-horses or ogres truly existed, where angels fell in the cosmology of the world and if they were related to the star-fire demons. Others, had implications the writer felt unsure if he could touch, but it seemed like they would not stop if he did not answer.

Mavadzugji’s approach to Alefpria continued the same, acknowledge the implications but imply uncertainty, he also added that some of the Harbours of the sunlands said Elysium had dandelion hair, so one could not assume themselves to be some lost tribe of some distant empire because of the distant empire… But they could question, why do the two divines have descriptions similar to theirs.

”Maybe one or the other, or both of them, perhaps neither.” was the answer of the priest to the question of human origin. There were facts known, that the sunlanders admitted other humans existed before they immigrated into the continent, that ruins similar to their building styles existed, that many writings described the god emperor similar to them, some even other gods, including the patron of mankind. The truth, he assumed, would be to cross those foreign legends with the core of what their own local tales told, the truth was hiding between the knowledge of the elders, someone needed to clear it.

It had become a consensus in the room, however, including even with Mavadzugji himself, that the people who lived in Mesathalassa before the arrival of the other people were likely related to the dusklanders. That seemed obvious with the little information they had on the topic. And this immediately set up an angry mood, as if they had been robbed of something they had never owned in the first place, however, the head priest would not have that, anger was not a good feeling to have inside one’s heart, and he didn’t want this kind of tension rising. He forced the topic to move, and slowly, the immediate thoughts of mythical ancestries faded for more mundane conversations.

“So, how was the food in the sunlands? Was it good?”

”They really like greasy things. They eat way too many meats of animals that are much heavier than fishes, I felt like vomiting after a while. They don’t really eat flour as much as us, they prefer to just fry cassava. They have coconuts but are not creative in their production. The wine, however, was great. The Hain’s rice is also pretty good, but very expensive. Carrots were a mixed bag, better in the coast than in the inland.”

“Huh, that is disappointing.” the priest who asked the question answered. “I had heard it was truly something good, it is a shame it is not.”

Taking the chance, another priest questioned. “I guess the tales sometimes are biased, are the villages truly that large in the sunlands?”

”Yes, absolutely, larger than anything you have ever seen if we are talking about the harbour towns in the coast.” he was simple and direct, they had to understand this, even if it was something a bit shocking, causing the whole room to fall in silence.

“And the buildings?” one asked, and before Mavadzugji could open his mouth other person was already questioning “Did you take any notes about Metalcrafting?” “Is their craftsmanship as advanced as we hear about?” among many others.

To everything, there was a time, and Mavadzugji first broke down the architecture, then started to address the individual questions, however, at one point, he realized his wording had a lot of power here, while it was true the nations of the sunlands had many techniques that had yet to break into the Dusklands, the gap was even larger when one took the distant nations into consideration, however, there were also things that the dusklanders did well… and things the dusklanders could do better, and one way to incentivize this was to pick something unique that they did and elevate it beyond.

”But all that aside, the best cloth is the sunland is still Dusklander textile. You’d also be impressed by how much they struggle with beekeeping, and use of wax over there is very sparse. I also found that glassmaking was in a weird situation, they know how to do it, but they don’t really care for aesthetics and variety, you don’t have multiple types of glass related to a region or another, unlike here.” in truth there were three major glass producing regions in the harbours, Lacesol, Mirny and Kivico, each was well known to focus on different objects, styles and colours, it was not a lie, however, that the dusklanders focused far more on variety and aesthetic usage.

The discussion lasted deep into the night, and then into the morning, but eventually, led by fatigue, the group dispersed. Mavadzugji had been left a bit shocked at just how intense it could get at moments, he planned to take a time to recollect his thoughts but had instead been flooded with countless questions and hard decisions as soon as he stepped into the land. More than the moment of arrival, it was the early morning next day that had the priest realizing just how much was on his back from now on.




Kadja Regjurnyarha arrived at the town not too long after Mavadzugji, but her presence, and the presence of the sunlander hunter with her, had had echoing effects that made a tangible change to how things were evolving. The priest’s wisdom was known and the Tsefo’s influence was acknowledged at the very least, but the mysterious dusklander born in the sunlands and the weird hunter she brought with her made it clear to all just the magnitude of the world outside and how much Mavadzugji had involved himself with.

The girl herself did not care much about politics and such, she just wanted to know the region, and to her, it all was very foreigner, very out of this world. Simply having a grandmother from the region did not attune her to it outside of maybe the vision, to her, the food was different from what she knew, the houses were far more closed off than she expected, the music was truly odd and many quirks of her village had no root in such culture. However, she made an effort to adapt, as foreigner and strange the Dusklands were, it was her homeland... Even if she did not feel at home. Where else could it be?

Mavadzugji was truly impressed she had brought the hunter with her, she was supposed to be in Mutaraka’s care from the moment they arrived, and the hunter was supposed to go back to his guild in Susah. Later developments along the week made it clear to him that perhaps the two had become quite friendly along the path. That was fine, albeit the priest found all the new talk they brought to be quite bothersome.

Not as bothersome, however, as the politics he would have to deal with despite his desire to focus entirely on his historical work.

The relationship between Dyetzu clan and Mavadzugji’s had always been a complicated one, the coalition of clans was positive towards his efforts, seeing it as the least problematic of the social changes the Duskland was undergoing, however, it was clearly the desire was for an ‘useful’ relationship instead of true devotion to the cause. The priest recognized they probably misjudged just how much was he proposed would change the way the Dusklanders would see the world and themselves, this was to his advantage, and from what Batsami told him, even Llapur’s own brother, Tsilluhan Dyetzu, seemed very interested in the Tsefo’s work, if not outright fully loyal to its ideas.

In return, however, there were dangers he should be aware of. Batsami was romantically interested in the chieftain of the Dyetzu clan, and it was obvious that getting to marry the Manyadjir of Tsefo would lead to some influence over the organization, however, that was also an understatement of Batsami’s loyalty to her friends. Nevertheless, it caused some complications with one of Mavadzugji’s closest allies… yet that was far from the only case of such trouble, it was clear Llapur desired not only surveillance but influence, countering Mavadzugji, to this purpose the figure of Tsevami was essential. The priest did not hide his love of luxuries and desire to be in the center of attention along with the likes of Mavadzugji, furthermore, he had always been friendly to the richer families and mastered the art of using beautiful words and strong imagery. So when the information that Tsevami was meeting with Llapur in secret was whispered, the priest knew that to be true, and feared it was not the only case, Llapur likely had been trying to influence every single possible internal rivalry within Tsefo, ready to try to tinker with the movement as soon as he felt their philosophical counter to Elysian thought had lost its use.

That was, perhaps, a bit too hopeful of his part, he was smart, but he was a man of war and politics, the world of strategies, and intrigues was a complicated one, but no wound or favor changed a man as much as history or philosophy could, and that was Llapur’s biggest strategic downfall, Mavadzugji thought, he was a man of clashing conflict, he could not see the underlying changes happening under his feet. As such, the priest decided to not ‘respond’ against his encroaching, but the accept it, to pull it in into the turmoil, this would be alien territory to the chieftain.




‘Order is able to manipulate time, the time between the sixty-second and the sixty-fourth years since the world was scarred by the fire of the stars felt eternal, each day was a new challenge and a new face, in comparison, once I was back at home and leading The Tsefo it felt like I could barely close my eye without a whole epoch going by.’

This was a comment Mavadzugji would make many times later in his life, and it was true that after returning home, his work turned into a far more monotonous one, and he did not mind that, at least initially. Far more important for him was to lead the priests into a more efficient way to collect the stories, forming what, in anachronistic terms, was a true supply chain of information, organized by him, Tura, Batsami and impressively enough, Mutaraka, who already used similar downstream ways of collecting information to keep track of the movements within his coalition of tribes.

As the collecting of culture continued, its character started to change in a significant manner, echoing the necessities of the Tsefo as a political organization. Simply put, not all agreed or supported with the Tsefo, Mavadzugji had learned no amount of kind words could lead to universal acceptance, and, much to his dismay, it became clear the group needed leverage to use against the most stubborn aspects of Dzanya society.

“I say, we just ignore them,” Batsami told, in a surprising admission of defeat, or so others thoughts.

“I cannot accept to just leave parts of our story untouched…”

“Oh… We don’t need to!” a smile suddenly showed the woman had other thoughts, hand going up to adjust her delicate hat before she continued her speech. “Others might be willing to tell their history for us, to say, if one clan refuses to tell us their tale, no problem, we ask their neighbors, I am sure they would love to share what they know.”

There was a sound of realization in the room, Mavadzugji rubbing his forehead, initially, he did not want to cover the more ‘recent’ story of the world, outright wishing to not write down even the mythical stories of clan foundations many were conveying to the priests, an act he had started to doubt the necessity later, and now Batsami had shown how such stories possessed a certain value to these nobles. It diluted the value of his work and it would create an unnecessary discussion of trivial political matters, but he accepted the implicit proposal.

From them onward Tsefo priests would not beg for information, they would not try to argue on why not telling them their tales was bad, there were other mouths to tell such things, what Tsefo provided was a chance to avoid being judged by what others had to say about you. This effort showed results quickly, and as Mavadzugji had reasoned in the difference between him and Llapur, the influence and prestige were being won with attacks that moved like mist, not with the clash of swords. The very nature of Tsefo’s work became a vicious cycle, more information meant more prestige, more prestige made others more willing to work with them, the more worked with them, the more information. All this was also on the top of the fact The Tsefo had so far had a true monopoly over most refined and cost-effective ways to produce paper and many of the secrets on training proper scribes, a clan chieftain who decided to seek to create his own tale had to do it with material and writing of lesser quality, which obviously was quite embarrassing for them.

Seminars on the topic of history, culture, and myth, and the release of great collections about the customs and tales from entire regions quickly became common as the group started to move past the initial moment of acquiral of information and instead started to digest all that they had collected, though a great deal of research was still being done. Initially, Mavadzugji thought this would have been the time to rest and let the Tsefo grow independent of his leadership, but his mind was sharp and he saw the patterns that others missed.

It all started with perhaps one of the most basic stories in all of Dzanya lore, the tale of the heavenly siblings, that perhaps because of its simplicity and social function, being the tale that set the differences in expectations towards males and females, was widespread from one side of the duskland to another, yet was so rare in the Sunlands that it was surely something related to Dzanya culture. The story covered two heavenly gods, siblings, who always competed over many matters. One day they discovered they could share their light with the world, the female did it first, filling the sky with countless shimmering light dots, her brother became anxious and envious, and decided to one-up his sister by creating the brightest and most powerful of the lights, thus creating the sun, though it was too powerful and ended up hurting him in the process, as well as all of the worlds.

In the simple cautionary tale of eagerness and envy, there were important bits of history, Mavadzugji noticed. For a start it was another tale that was set before the Earth was found, indicating that there was a time in which the Earthly and the Heavenly realms were separated, a second aspect was the use of sharing light, it meant light was natural to heavenly gods.

This was very important, especially in the context that some versions of this tale included, that presented the sunlight as invasive. That sounded illogical at first, how could light be invasive? How could creatures see without the light? And indeed it was not a motif that all versions of the tale shared, but then, one day, a priest was presented some proof by an elder, the exercise was simple, they waited until the dark night outside, looking at the woods bathed in the gentle light of the moon, then they entered the tent and stared at an intense fire for a few moments, when they left the tent again, the world seemed much darker, details that were clearly visible before vanished in the void of black. Light was addictive and light blinded living beings, a quick look up at the sun would provide convincing proof of the case.

This had been echoing in Mavadzugji’s head for a long while, especially in the context of the Dusklands. There was not a concise explanation of why the dusklands were dark, this was much debated in both the tribal cultural scenario of the land but also in the meetings of Tsefo. Explanations ranged from curses to blessings, to gods and chieftains. Why was the land covered in the dusk? Who knew. Chippers were also quite useless on this matter, despite being helpful in others, like for example, confirmed that indeed, the sun and the stars were the same things, thus proving the celestial siblings' tale.

Mavadzugji’s theory started with the concept of realms. Two heavenly gods, the Heavenly Daughter, and the Earthly Son, the latter inheriting or conquering the Earthly Realm. The tale was another one that was socially important to define the genders in their society, this time with a much more positive light into the male figure as new, harsher lands had been discovered, leading the the king of the heavens to divide all known lands between children, initially the Daughter would get the untamed lands, but The Son graciously took her role, leaving to his sister the tamer lands while he braved the wild. The function of the tale was clear from an outsider perspective, it thought about humbleness and courage in contrast to the previous tale’s take on envy and eagerness, but to those who grew listening to it, it was history, it was fact. It didn’t help that both gods were some of the most mentioned deities in the world and that indeed, there seemed to be two lands, one under a goddess, one under a god.

What left Mavadzugji curious was the separation of new and old land and how a new land was discovered. In his mind, the image started to become clear, and that is when his theory was formed, the theory that there was a third realm. It was impressive such a concept had not been developed before, considering how duality itself was a rare concept in Dzanya culture and they hard words for many things other people ignored, such as the space between earth and sky, among other empty spaces and frontiers.

The third realm theory was simple. It was implied another realm, that originally the realm of earth connected both to the heavenly realm and the third realm, the former being Elysium and the latter being Galbar. The third realm was one of darkness, and it was conquered by the heavens after the sun was created, this had been what made the mortal species unable to see in the dark as well as they did in the past. This included man. In Mavadzugji’s theory, mankind was not born in Elysium but was instead was native to Galbar, as seen in the ruins of buildings predating the exodus and the arrival of mankind in the region, of course, these humans were much more like the humans of Dzanya, the last unconquered part of the third realm, though now even it was about to fall. The man of the sunlands had been taken to Elysium by the gods, at the same time, Galbar became infested with other species, some civilized, but many barbaric and envious, this along with the years it took to adapt to the blindness led to the almost total extinction of humans in Galbar.

In Elysium, mankind was changed, adapted, and came back as the humans of the sun, bestowing gifts that led to great wars with the native Galbar population, likely aided by the Earthly Son himself. Why bring humans from other lands instead of using their own? It was a simple truth, the gods did not smile at those unchanged, as they were proof of Galbar’s true heritage, this is why both gods had light hair and skin colors like that of the Dzanya, but never blessed the land themselves, it was not that they had been made in the image of the gods, but that the gods had stolen their image, proof of this was the description of Lifprasil as a shapeshifter. This was a thought not only inspired by the strong Anti-Elysian feelings in the Tsefo, as well as suspicion towards the figure of Lifprasil and mainly, the philosophy of Runza Thanfong, the young queen conqueror and unifier of Imga and object of great admiration from Mavadzugji. Her denial of godly providence and alliances was key to turning the tides in the south, though due to her early death many started to have doubts about her philosophy in her own homeland.

Ultimately, the third realm theory was widely accepted in The Tsefo, as it echoed greatly with the frustrations and needs of the Dzanya population in such a delicate moment. They felt displaced and alienated from the world, after countless centuries living in isolation there had been a sudden influx of information about new and wonderful lands, sunlanders were no longer just those odd persons they met once or twice but an endless sea of lands foreign to them. Mavadzugji had provided a world where they were the centerpiece, the underdog, those who had been persecuted into nothingness despite their ancient history, it did not provide a sense of future in the precarious situation they were in, but it provided with pride, often misplaced, and a new sense of unity.




In 68 Post Realta, “Tsoti” was released, as the compilation of The Tsefo’s work in history, the work retold the entire history of the world, from gods to clans, and also presented counterclaims to ‘A sunlander vision of history’. The text was not only the apex of years of work in the collections of oral history and philosophical discussion but also of printing technology, illustration in mosaic and paper, and writing techniques, as Tzevami, despite his problematic relationship with Tsefo, ultimately would compose poetry to narrate the key moments of Dzanya culture.

The chieftain and other priests could do nothing but watch with a passive expression as the work had hit their world like a tsunami, in a year, Mavadzugji had become a better-known name than any other chieftain, dwarfing the fame he already had when he was the one bringing tales of foreign lands. When the next summer arrived, nobody felt like they were in the same land as they had been in last summer.

Much like Tsoti had changed from a factual book on history into something else between a glorification of the Dzanya and an analysis on early Dusklander history, Mavadzugji had changed along the way as well, his political thoughts went from just whims he had tried to control to something with actual weight and calculated positions.

A large part of this was due to the influence of the Mesathalassam Harbor Kingdoms and Hain Fortresses, texts arriving from the civilizations in the Firewind desert and many whispers of distant lands past the wilderness as well as the divine empire under Alefpria. There was a sea of information on the details of government and rulership, from factual… -ish accounts, to historical documents to philosophical text on the matter. As such, a natural shift from reactive political thought to constructive political thought started to happen, Mavadzugji no longer limited himself to question what he perceived as wrong but instead, he approached the matter much like he had approached math and history.

Obviously, his dislike of the influence the great clans had on his life meant those were to not have a place in a better society, in fact, Mavadzugji fully proposed a breakup and institutionalization of the clan society, with a division between military and economic clans, to fully prepare themselves for the urban shift that seemed inevitable, as well as greater social mobility. Centralization was a hot topic as well, with proposals of a hierarchy of city, army, and temple and organization that mirrored Mutaraka’s federation of tribes, though while that one was maintained by informal deals, friendship and a need of mutual defense, this one was formed by hard law.

His wish was not only to ensure the best for his people but also to avoid the mistakes that previous Mesathalassa civilizations had committed. The history of goverment in the Harbors had been one of constant failure, from the initial republics to the kingdoms and theocracies, people were often just thoughtlessly getting whatever remained after everything else had failed. Runza’s plans were by far the best the south had had, but they had to be spread through violence and ultimately had a fatal flaw, they focused on one single mortal being. A true society shouldn’t have to rely on anything but itself, a safe society doesn’t break down if their leader is killed.

All these thoughts would come to be compiled on what was somewhat of a sequel to Tsoti, The Dzarya, first published in 73 Since the Realta. The writings suffered internal resistance within Tsefo, and came out as weirdly utopic when reaching the public. To many, it resonated, a true future for the people, especially since the ‘oddlands’ were to spread all the way south, and leaving the homeland was inevitable, this was the time for a new society in their view. For others, it did not resonate so well, while the ideas of a unified Dusklander identity had been easy to spread due to the situation the region was in, and a denial of southern religion with the creation of a new philosophy and even a hypothetical god was quickly spreading, especially for the sense of pride and destiny provided in its absurd bias towards the locals, the ideas of society for society sake, and of not only defining a “dusklander people” but unifying them in one single state was a wild concept, that felt impossible without a deviation into something darker. The very idea of “economic” clans and “military” clans was foreign to the locals, and although already in practice, especially in the more urban areas, the creation of them as a concept felt complicated.

To further Mavadzugji’s issues, his monopoly on many topics was starting to waver, the very result of his acts and efforts to educate the locals had the obvious result of making his word questionable, even with the Tsefo, the organization growing exponentially as its prestige grew, his voice was becoming one of many, and albeit the most respect, it soon found itself stuck in the middle of growing factions and philosophies.

The cohesion of the movement was rapidly breaking as more and more clans had to migrate, so despite the fact the movement was slowly overtaking all of the traditional priesthood, Mavadzugji’s plans for it were not coming to fruition unless he had the means to keep Tsefo unified. A central priesthood was possible, of course, but not without proper economic and military backing, otherwise any attempts at that would be mere formalities and too easy to break, but Mavadzugji found himself not having the voice anymore to get enough backing, his new work was loved by fringe groups, but ignored by many, and nothing would keep Tsefo together if not the realizing of his utupia, the Dzanyavehar, the old word which had haunted his father were more possible today than it was in his time, but still, Mavadzugji could not reach it.

This was, after all, the way society work, as he had noted when he isolated Llapur Dyetzu, it was not something simple like a fight, it reached from under you like a wave. Mavadzugji had been the epicenter of a lot of change, his steps causing true tsunamis towards others, but waves after crashing bounce back, returning to the sender, and now the very prophet of a new duskland was stuck in a whirlpool beyond his control.

The priest, however, was not one to give up, even if the situation was deteriorating, he would do what he could. And what he could do was to prepare for the eventual exodus into the Sunlands. Kadja Regjurnyarha’s village was very fond of him, the whole region was, in fact, and the location was near the Abbey and far from the most crowded areas of northern Mesathalassa, where many of the local lords truly hated him. If he could not keep The Tsefo together, if he could not mend the relationship of the many dusklander clans and the “first lander” clans that had migrated before most of them, if he could not bring about the true Dzanyavehar, he would at least create something of his own, he could not let his political ideas die without at least trying them, and if they were of quality, the wealth and stability of the land would be proof his ideas were, once again, the ones that should be followed. Or at least that was what he assumed.

And so, as the oddlands crept ever closer to the last bastions of Dusklander society, Mavadzugji went on his last attempts to, if not convince more groups of the worth of his latest work, at least make sure more of the fringe groups who agreed with him would be with him when the time to leave came. Not all groups could, however, and he knew there was value in not centralizing it all on his project.

One of such fringe groups that truly believed in the worth of both The Tsoti and The Dzanya texts was about to have their first meeting…
Concept time, woo. I actually need some time to rewrite this later, since, uh, I am quite busy this weekend, but this is the overall gist, if it doesn't work I can make someone new.


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