The Magicians' Collective Press, Library & Archives

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* The Magicians’ Collective *
is a private society and operation concerned with the interests and conditions of professionally functioning Weavers and their associates upon the Ilican Continent. It is based in White Port, Altalusia, where the Press, Library and Archives also reside. They are at disposal to members every day of the year and to the general public once every month. The Press distributes its print publications through select bookpeddlers, academies and private libraries across the entire continent, though not always reliably. Membership to the Collective cannot be applied for, as it is on principle only granted to ones with prior connections within. The operatives of the Collective approach new prospects at their leisure.

*​

Political Pamphlets by the Collective Press
Subsection Arshakan Empire, Contemporary, 350 EoD, IAX
Archived as Entry 605

On Decay
By Kourosh Iaxartes​

In the academies here in the North, they have arrogantly dubbed our ongoing days the Era of Decay — coming from these countless intelligent people, some of which are my friends as well as my colleagues, this is a folly and a shame. Despite the entire Arshakan Empire struggling beneath poor management like a pauper’s child, this famous rot that I’ve heard so much of was nowhere to be seen within the Brahman Magisterium. Nor here, in the halls that I’ve had both pleasure and displeasure to stray, the latter the outcome for how much people bemoan the yet greatest age ever available to be experienced. Their resplendent cities whorl with life, culture and its many gifts; their libraries are full and their weavers are skilled, their art is still bad (in public, I use the word piquant) and the food has me properly besotten, having only gotten better since last I was here. The cloudpiers have expanded outward like branches of a creeping juniper, their saplings grown in number, and a whole fleet of the birds they house dots the sky above every hold in Altalusia. In the outskirts, the common rabble live the same as they ever have, oscillating betwixt sporadic thriving and active suffering. The Dead Wave persists, as do other anomalies usually assigned to the poetic, unscientific category of ‘Blight’, but this by now is a constant comparable to the turns of Seasons.

Sat in the core of this large, yet ripening fruit as I am, my wonder is thus — What is decaying, exactly? The very devoted amongst the Imperials reason the Decay is begrudgingly self-ascribed fact (eluding to the moral character of whomever claims it) masquerading as prophesy meant to herald the end of the Arshakan Empire. While my instinct is to dismiss this stance by how obsessed with the Empire as an entity it is, assigning it hegemony over the naming convention (along with fate) of an entire Era, all that I have seen gives me no sufficient alternative either. So, should they be right, since when have respected scholars taken to outright lying, or worse; presumptions and soothsaying? Was not our prime academic maxim one of questioning and bottomless curiousity, as agreed upon by both your beloved Sangsot of Balihot and our Satya Shastri; Though doubt begets discomfort, to be certain is absurd?

This prophesy, this premature certainty, has merely bolstered the Imperial resolve. They’ve lost two Capitals in their recent past alone and are no strangers to all shades of resistance; a great span of the Empire’s existence has been spent on fashioning identity from and upon ruins, turning suffering to virtue and defeat to a cyclical, temporary reality. Thusly, to give the Empire daydreams of her ruins, of all things that are resistant to Decay like steel, stone and skeletons, is a disservice to all of us who labour to dismantle the elements that sustain her. I speak not of her government, not her armies, not her borders, not even the economy that somehow yet functions in the crossfire of all three that preceded. Any of these could disappear overnight and by the next eve, they’d be reformed to another variation of their design. Features on a visage, transmuted under the Fleshturner’s glove.

The Devahni never rebuilt their Empire, the why and how of which has gained new insight as for the freshly translated correspondence betwixt Isbiq Aplaa and imperial advisor Doorii S. Marishka of the Sunken Deva. Unusual as it was, in the Sorcerer King’s ledgers this posting has been explained over as ‘a mutual benefit’; many who know nothing of neither Isbiq Aplaa or the then new Empire, have gladly made crude assumptions by this, against the idiocy of which I shan’t even argue. Though we are no closer to filling in the situation surrounding her employment by this new material, it has allowed us to make a direct connection betwixt her thoughts and the infant Empire’s founding politics, if not for any semblance of similarity. The penance she lived in for her people’s hubris is constantly present on the pages, so overwhelming as to give emergence to all that endeavours to counter it. Isbiq Aplaa describes her ‘once proud Deva spirit’ so broken that it made him weep, and in closing to one of his notes, he writes; ‘ I have never seen such defeat. ‘

This is the marrow of the thickest vertebra on the Imperial backbone. There will be no Decay in the Arshakan Empire.

The idea of Arshaka is eternal, as the heart is, but amidst all the infinite future realities is one where her name no longer invokes War. And, failing that, another where it at the very least inspires no blind devotion and sacrifice that in its absoluteness rivals the asceticism that as of late, has gained new foothold within the electorate as well as the elected. More stone, more steel, more skeletons for our modern Age of Splendor.

I’ll end on words from Satya Shastri, spoken ages ago after the funeral rites of his youngest child;

Nothing is inevitable. Everything is possible.



About the Author & Afterword by the Press:
Kourosh Iaxartes is a scholar of Imperial history and linguistics, with tenure in the Brahman Magisterium at the time he wrote the article. He currently lives in Cindersend, having been exiled from his home in the Arshakan Empire for undisclosed reasons.

The manuscript for this work was delivered for publication by his friend Firmin Moncharmin, a chevalier, a scholar of Practical Shroud in the Applied Sciences of Crown’s Academy, and honourary member of the Magicians' Collective.

Our work continues.

 

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Submissions by Third Parties to the General Collection
Section The Shroud
Subsection General Theory, Varied, 340 EoD, MON
Archived as Entry 144

Speculations on the Shroud & What we know
Presentation by Firmin Moncharmin

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at Department of Practical Shroud at the Applied Sciences of Crown’s Academy,
on 20th of Hochtar 340 EoD, transcribed by [name redacted]

*​

[transcript begins]


I’ll address the titular question first, despite my lovely colleagues having made me dispose of its mark from the printed material —

Nothing, and that is my purely scientific opinion, being just the regular amount of skeptical. Nothing, in absolute certainty, for whatever we presume as true even at this moment, has merely not been disproven. So, until then, let me speak of what we at the Practical Department call ‘pretty solid hunches’, or ‘Speculations’ as the big words used to attract you here quite eloquently put it. I did not write them — you may send your ‘thank you’ flowers to Laurent’s office.

To the new arrivals who do not know who that is, don’t worry — you may familiarize yourselves with his material soon enough, though it will always be too soon for how advanced it is. Anyway, now—

A primer, or if this were a play— premise:

1; By shroud, or The Shroud, in our field of Practical Shroud we mean the massless singularity found in the natural world of which Weavers and Magitech, as immediate examples, pull.

Not much is known of how this singularity operates when left to its own devices entirely, but it seems neither entropic nor anti-entropic. In trying to define it, we do not concern ourselves with its spirituality, implied sentience or determinism, but leave that to the priests, poets and philosophers. Even if, quite deservedly, we owe them credit for the following adage, originating from Aetochi circa 2000 years ago — ‘ The Shroud that can be pointed at is not the Shroud at all. ‘


2; Shroud’s presence is measurable, yielding ‘saturation’ as numbers from 0 to 49.

This range is based on a scale found on a device of Old Imperial origin, wherein the number runs upto 343, with broader notches at an interval of its square root 7, which repeats 49 times. Hence, our cheeky simplification. This system with these specific numbers was believed to have to do with the Moons and the supporting evidence that the Ancient Deva left one of them out purposefully, be it to prevent the Thief from interfering, or to discredit the Beloved due to its mortal origins. Or perhaps they were looking at a completely different firmanent altogether — whichever it is, ending our scale at 49 is a practical matter.

Unlike a device, a person’s approximations work much more accurately, when less numbers are involved. We know what 0 and 49 means, instinctively, and their relation to one other. The measuring within these parameters is still to this day mostly conducted by weavers, which we do have at the Practical Department, believe it or not, despite it being ran by a talentless fool as yours truly. Rudimentary magitech for this task does exist, measuring shroudborne ‘vibration’ in the air, but as of today that technology remains both infuriatingly limited and outrageously expensive to develop further.

As an aside — There is a lack of funding in this area in general, borne probably from how ‘moderately unattractive’, as my students like to say, it is to the average individual partaking in vanity projects. In my opinion Academies shouldn’t be subject to a single persons’ whims, but— Here we are. Moving on.


3; Shroud manifests in many ways, the most direct to perception being the act of weaving itself for which the applications and styles are as numerous as weavers themselves.

It is taught in Academies. It is passed down in traditions. It is learned single-handedly in isolation. Most people cannot Weave at all and yet within plenty organisms and even the non-organic a comparable action is very much the default. Sometimes a peculiar event happens, breaking rules of how a part of our reality is supposed to behave. There are quite literally thousands of ways in which I’ve seen the Shroud work. Or not.


At the hazard of contradicting my preliminary statement, I’ll posit that one thing is for certain — Beyond the act of Weaving, the shimmer & shiver, the mechanics of the Shroud are all around us. In what way, exactly, depends greatly on which theory one subscribes to. There are several, but I will now describe four major ones that are relevant to our studies here, in no particular order — their only virtue above others is that they are compatible with how we conduct our research, as well as, relatively, each other;


1; Primal Element theory

Suggests shroud as a ‘force’ of nature that stems from the Universe itself, keeping it together as well as manipulating it — the amount of it doesn’t grow nor diminish (nonconjurable, nonconsumable), it merely moves, or is moved, from place to another. The theory does expand to further explore whether Shroud was also the First Element that should’ve beget all others, by some inherent design, which has inspired plenty a theologian across the ages. Consider gravity, consider the ocean and the stars, consider your own reflection in the mirror, consider all this — a god.

2; Wave theory

Proposes that shroud is a waveform energy or vibration created by the interaction or mere existence of certain elements in the universe — it moves through all matter and can be ‘directed’ by specific conditions until it is eventually fully scattered or absorbed. This theory is directly in contradiction to the one before only if one’s perception of how things scatter and absorb into perceived ‘nothingness’ is narrow — In my opinion the two might even be complementary. Onwards—

3; Particle theory

Speculates that shroud itself is the primary particle, or beginning and end, in that it has no other components but itself and thus contains nothing that can be divided. You will notice this does touch a similar idea with the Primal Element theory, if at an adjusted angle. Here we can go as far as the weavetheory, which originates all the way from beginning of written history — or what we have records of, after the fall of the Deva Empire. The weavetheory posits as the name suggests; Everything is made of Shroud.

I do hear the huffing from the back — This is, obviously, a gross oversimplification, but I will not go into weavetheory at depth here in interest of time. There are versts upon versts of shelves filled with books about the topic as well as dedicated scholars who can argue it better than I ever could. You will learn their names during your studies.


Alright, last theory —

4; Substance theory

Argues that Shroud is a specific kind of collection of particles that can take many forms based on conditions and be reduced to amounts that are beyond our ability to perceive. This is also a very old theory, having come about roughly the same time as Sangsot of Balihot’s Songs & Conversations wherein the famous Analogy of the River appears. This can be considered an expansion on the wave theory, if without reliance on some Prime Mover — rather, the substance is considered to flow of it’s own accord based on a myriad of factors, changing shape as it is manipulated by its surroundings in an ever repeating cycle. This renders shroud a passive, if reactive element that is unique and separate from the rest, and by separate, we mean that it ebbs and flows through and in other things, but never truly changes in it’s innermost composition.

None of this conflicts with the main particle theory, as they are able to be reconciled with one another by adjusting how ‘shroud as particle’ operates — simply put, there can be one final and absolute particle that in its possibility is infinite, but it takes on qualities by forming bonds with a host of other particles. Be it those in the air, water, soil or our very selves. Exciting, no?


As I said and you may have noticed — All these theories, as I have presented them, do not exactly contradict one another, making claims selectively on different avenues, be it the origin, shape or general nature of the Shroud. Part of the reason for this, obviously, is what I stated firstmost in the primer — the narrowing down of perspective, or ‘cherrypicking’ as one outraged colleague at the Metaphysics put it — which has taken care of the great many disagreements within the theories themselves, as they all have a habit of eventually battling on whichever axis on the what,how&why space. So I’ve focused simply on their simplest features and do not entertain intention as it comes to the Shroud itself, as I believe it to be unable of having intentions, let alone purpose as our mortal, thinking selves understand it.

No, intention is ours. A weaver bestows theirs upon the Shroud, be it by directing, rearranging or transmuting the singularity. Whichever it is, we’ve not committed to one ultimate answer, as we here at ‘Praxis’ do not partake in speculation to necessarily find such things, but to entertain all for the sake of finding solutions. From which I now device a donkey’s bridge to—

What I have foreshadowed multiple times in this presentation thus far; The Balewood Sinkhole.

It is by modern understanding a ‘dead zone’, in that it has no shroud activity, does not support living organisms, exists as an anomaly in relation to it’s surroundings and is terribly adamant to stay exactly as it is — dead. What sets it apart from the vast majority of the ones we know of, is its above average size and that it doesn’t appear to have been ‘made’, but has instead formed. Or perhaps ‘accumulated’ is more in line with the fact that it seems to, also, be expanding.

Its bounds are irregular, shape more an amorphous blob than the neat spheres in our diagrams, but track it we have all the same. The change overtime is slow, rather glacial, but this is perfectly in line with things that are as old as it is. Primeval, like trees.


Why does it exist? Why is it, like other dead zones, so resistant to replenishment? In this, we can again turn to our theories and develop them further, considering what the existence of each anomaly means for the theory, were it true. What if all of them are true?

A rather new amendment to the weave theory, in its age about as ancient as the Sinkhole, suggests there are different kinds of shroud and we’ve only been exposed to the one that is perceptible to us, in that it transmutes and interacts with living things. Thus, it has come up to date with our discovery of the very real ‘dead zones’, the existence of which used to be a great point against it and all the interconnectedness it suggests. So, now we may pose such exciting inquiries as — are the dead zones truly dead? Is there something more, there, under some volumetric haze?

What is in the Balewood Sinkhole? And if it truly is nothing, ought we begin defining differences betwixt nothingnessess, as far as it translates to our practical approach to them? Because that nothing is not the same as the nothing of empty air, lifeless earth, or a dreamless dream, as merely walking into it will teach you. Do we call it’s level of nothingness ‘void’? Is the void just a different sort of shroud, a strange new transmutation of particles, of the weave and the waves, of a type of god?

These are only a fraction of our speculations. Welcome to Applied Sciences and Practical Shroud.


[ transcript ends ]