Cynis Chahailis' Journal
Thoughts on Sorcery as a Whole
Raised from birth to believe that sorcery was a mysterious power that could not be matched, a weapon forged to fight the black powers of the dreaded anathima, a tool that could only be used by the noble Dragonbloods, I learned far before my exaltation that only one of these was true. One of the advantages of my family is that we frequent places that do not have a "slash and burn" policy favored by the Cloister, a phrase common to the house's wyld hunters is "A fool fights an unknown foe." in short if you look right in our summer houses and libraries you can read many interesting things that other houses may not know. One of those is that sorcery dates far before our revolution, another is that the Heptogram can only teach the tip of the iceberg for magics. The "dark magics" that the Solars used in the past out striped the powers of the Dragonbloods, but that isn't surprising many of the powerful artifacts Dynasts use cannot be reproduced. No, as much as I learned about sorcery as a mortal, as many people talked about its power, as many stories speak of city blackened and fortresses created of sheer essence, none speak of the price. Just as any charm requires essence, sorcery requires so much more, it drowns out reality, its power speaks to your mind, the quest to master it burns in your soul, it is far worse than any drug, and its my birth right. I can walk down the street and my mind shifts people and building alike to appear older, as if the knowlege of how essence works in a fundamental way taints my view to see the essence shaping the world without my will. There can be no worse feeling than the knowlege that this small town could be gone in a blink of an eye and that you have the power to do it. Perhaps the goal of the Unconquered Sun giving us this power is to inspire the true feeling of what we are capable of, to show us that we are the one saving grace this world has left and that all we have to do is move wrong and whole civizations vanish. Thats the feeling of sorcery, its like sitting in a campsight a soothing fire going, and suddenly you are the fire, granting light, warmth, desruction, you are the key to survival. I hate it, or do I love it, it scars my eyes yet I long to read more, it deafens me yet all I can do is listen, I can't turn knowlege off, it churns and bubbles in my mind, occupieing it to no end. I do not wish this power, this resposibility on any of my companions, yet I may have to teach them for any of my plans to succed, will I lose my life, my mind, or my soul?