Realm of Steam
Garden of the Prophet > Litany of the Void

The Prophet means your ears to bleed, and the pain is that of becoming a Voidman. Give praise, you Voidmen, for there is one more to our number this day! The lesser seals are turned open but a quarter yet; you can be sure of old Cucas, slow as a mother with a babe. Were it the Voidmaster, there'd be blood upon all our faces, and you fallen upon the forgen deck, dancing as the least peasant in high air! There is worse, there is worse!

Eural, what of the great exhortation of the Prophet's Fire in your youth? Ten days of Voidmen and Brothers of the Pitiless Order crushed as though beneath a great load; broken bones, bloody limbs, and every leaf and bough fallen from the trees of the garden-vault!

What of the realm of steam, that all Voidmen of Ementhe saw one and twenty years age - and gave every last hair, shred of skin, and scream besides? The skin grew back, such as you see, but not one hair, not one hair. Voidmaster Arthe of the red realms quested long for the great-shrines of the Anointed Brother Lespeham. Hidden by steam and heat-cloud of the Vennas realm, no man since has set eyes upon these Holies. Nor I, nor the good Voidmaster, the Prophet guide his soul. Strange plants and rivers we saw from the Oculis of Ementhe, but naught of the works of the faithful - the realm of steam is the Prophet's own secret!

And what of Void-battle, charred forgen and Brothers who take the Long Breath to fight beyond the seal-gates? No, but let us not speak of Void-battle this day. Why do we stand when we have left the Void behind us, and the lesser seals are open? To work, Voidmen!

[ Posted by Reason on May 31, 2006 ]