This morning was different, I awoke with a jerk in the rooted halls of our village. As I blinked and my vision came into focus I could hear the gentle wail of souls in my head. I quickly gathered myself for a journey to the Island to the West.

After my climb through the mountains I found myself at the base of the Obelisk of Souls, here the haunting echos in my head grew even louder. I climbed into the Obelisk, knowing what I must do. I grasped my Soulstone pendant in my hand, closed my eyes, and focused on my Father, the Endbringer. When I opened them again, I stood in the Soulrealm. Looking amongst the fog, I noticed that the souls that I normally find as I stumble around were silent, hushed in such a way I had never seen.

As I stumbled through this path that very few mortals ever see I found myself before the Mausoleum, the grand halls of the Dead. I paused at the bridge crossing the river Styx, where my Father had once shown me the ways of Life, and Death, and the necessity of both in Sapience as we know it, and here I heard a hearty chuckle that could not be mistaken, down the river Styx sailed a Dwarven man, humming to himself and muttering as he passed under the bridge, and on into the Endbringer's realm for eternity.

I pulled the Cord of the bell of souls, and it's thrum resonated throughout the entire soulrealm, and the Mausoleum doors crept open like they always do. As I walked in, there in the center of our ritual chamber, just before the seat of my Father, a single flower grew from between the onyx tiles... and as I glanced towards our pool of Rituals, a ripple coarsed over the surface and then it was still again.

The Endbringer is nye, the necessity of Death is one that cannot be avoided, all lives must one day come to an end, and they serve a greater purpose that none can understand except him. Nature fully embraces Death, and life as well. Do you?

In his name,

Blackthorn Darkender Distara, Death's Blade

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Sarapin, in the year 677 AF.