#Azure is such a god tier color

[lionsongfr]

*buying fodder to exalt for treasure*

~squints at my very first fodder~

Oh no. Oh NO. YOU HAVE POTENTIAL.

POTENTIAL FOR CUTE.

[nzoth-the-corruptor]

So, the very original concept for the Primal Incarnates were that they were followers of Galakrond,

"Here we’re meeting another group of dragons called the primalists. They follow a group of primal incarnates, followers of Galakrond, ancient huge proto dragons that choose not to side with the Titans. They believe that everyone should be subservient to dragon kind because they're big and powerful." — Jeremy Feasel, [April 2022 AusGamers interview]

[...]players will also encounter the Primalists. This group of ancient proto dragons opposed the ordering of the dragonflights under the Titans. These purist dragons believe that, as children of Galakrond, dragons are the apex of creation who should be served by mortals, rather than the other way around. — [GamerRant's April 2022 Dragonflight Interview]

(this presumably ties into Iridikron's oft-remarked upon hunger, given Galakrond's own.)

Although it was one of the few pieces of information released about the Primal Incarnates after Dragonflight's announcement in April, by the time it entered alpha in July there doesn't seem to have been much left of the idea and by Dragonflight's release the narrative had changed to the Primal Incarnates having stood against Galakrond with the rest of primal dragonkind.

So let's talk a bit about Iridikron's (non-existent) hunger.

The first thing we learn about Iridikron is that he is the scariest of the Primal Incarnates and that his hunger is the most horrifying element of that. That if his hunger was unleashed, it would spell calamity for the world. When we finally get to see Iridikron, we see a creature whose physical form is falling apart — cracked, fragmented, its core exposed to the world. None of the other Incarnates have suffered such damage to their form.

We are warned repeatedly about his hunger and about the 'dark bargains' he has made that are so horrifying but his kin don't know about.

... and then the War of the Scaleborn novel came out, and he has no hunger whatsoever, and the darkest bargain he made was allying with Igira and her djaradin for the last few weeks of the war because he needed more soldiers to reinforce Harrowsdeep against the march of the Aspects and their army. His body literally falling apart is neither explained nor remarked upon.

Something clearly got dropped, and that something I am quite confident in saying was a bargain with Yogg-Saron.

It was implied in Dawn of the Aspects but confirmed in Dragonflight that Galakrond's all-consuming hunger and mutating corruption was precipitated as a result of exposure to Yogg-Saron. The tier sets that came out of Vault of the Incarnates had a color scheme for each element, with the Earth coloration using saronite as an accent color. What bargain could he make—so horrifying that his siblings would revolt from him if they learned of it—if not one with the eldritch god responsible for Galakrond's madness?

In Dragonflight we see Decay welling up from the ground in the Azure Span. We have long known that a connection to the earth also opens one up to the Old Gods' influence.

All of that build-up towards Decay, towards the legacy of Galakrond, towards Iridikron as this innately horrifying figure, and it fizzles.

(Though there is another angle to consider, that Iridikron might have intended to be one of the Bitten — those who were infected with the middle ground between rabies and zombism by the Not-Living during the dragons' war against Galakrond, and compelled towards violence and cannibalism if they lacked the willpower to control themselves. Malygos had been one of the Bitten, but force of willed himself into remaining sane until he could be cured by Ysera's (never mentioned again) psychic powers that had also allowed her to soothe the Not-Living.)

The Iridikron we have now is great, don't get me wrong, but he's a very different character from the one that had been set up by 10.0 and was likely intended to be the end boss of Dragonflight before it started being revised to lead into the Worldsoul Saga instead.

------------------------

Then there's the Primal Incarnates' friendships with the Aspects.

They were established to have all been friends prior to the War of the Scaleborn in Dragonflight's introduction, but then that statement was contradicted by the novel saying that Raszageth was never their friend and always their enemy, Vyranoth was only Alexstrasza's "friend", Fyrakk was only Alexstrasza and Ysera's cousin (and although he taught Alexstrasza everything she knew about combat, there is zero sense of lost camaraderie between them), and Iridikron was only Neltharion's former friend.

So we were robbed of their tragic falling out as their differences began to form too great a divide for them to bridge.

(The Primal Incarnates' relationships with each other gets wibble-wobbled around a fair bit too. In-game they're explicitly all siblings and referred to as being siblings and kin in multiple locations and contexts, by each other and by other characters and even by the voice of the narrative itself in the adventure guide, but in the novel it's kind of thrown around. Fyrakk shows up in Iridikron's home, starts a fight with him, then says that Iridikron can't hit him back because [Fyrakk] is his brother; this is peak sibling behaviour, but Iridikron has literally never met Fyrakk's close cousin Alexstrasza a single time in his life. Raszageth doesn't recognize Iridikron's clutchmate Ikronia as being related to her in any way, and even dismissively calls her '[Iridikron's] sister.' Vyranoth has never met Raszageth prior to the events of the novel, and doesn't acknowledge Fyrakk or Iridikron as her brothers though she clearly knows them at least somewhat well. Raszageth and Fyrakk only exist on page together in a brief, completely disconnected from the rest of the plot scene where the Incarnates decide they should take up the use of Visages. Ikronia never exists on page with Fyrakk or Vyranoth.)

------------------------

And of course, one must consider the abandoned plotline that established Tyr was deliberately experimenting on the primal dragons and had produced a number of elemental primals while testing what happens when they're exposed to large amounts of elemental energy.

When you consider the 7 'elements' we see in the Dragon Isles, this becomes increasingly suspicious (Air, Frost, Fire, Earth; Order, Decay, and Ire.)

We know for absolute fact what happens when primal dragons are infused with the first five, and we have a pretty good idea of what the sixth causes via Galakrond, with Tyr's statements to the Prime Designate that his mutation was a result of drinking corrupted waters from the wellspring that would become Tyrhold... only half an island away from the nastiness that would spring up in Azure Span a few thousand years later...

Moreover, however, are Tyr's indications that the conditions by which a primal dragon might absorb enough elemental energy to mutate seem unlikely to naturally occur in the wild, which raises questions.

Questions like: Is Tyr Responsible For Elemental Primal Dragons? Did he release any into the wild, or did they escape (Earth primals, he noted, were extremely good at escape attempts)? Did they learn about his experiments and reverse engineer them to create their own? Did they naturally occur in small quantities that the other primal dragons eventually learned to harness for their own means without any awareness of what Tyr had been doing?

The Dragonscale Renown questline where this is all brought up is never referenced again despite Tyr's return to the narrative.

Tyr's stuff in general feels like a good bit of it was cut out during the expansion's development. He was pivotal in agitating tensions between primal and ordered dragons that eventually boiled into war when his [attempts to bring the primals under heel failed,] with the art book released with Dragonflight's Collector's Edition explicitly setting up Tyr as a major subject of primal dislike and stating they made calls for his removal from draconic affairs — which for the majority of Dragonflight, was one of the few things we knew about the War of the Scaleborn.

And then in the novel he's barely a figure, outside of issuing the command for primal eggs to be taken. He's barely even mentioned by the Primalists and only ever in passing.

thinking about the primal incarnate retcons and early lore rewrites again

[ariparri]

She’s done! Ah my god, she’s my absolute queen amongst all my OCs😭😩 No one can ever replace her (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`) you all have no idea how much I simp over my own OCs. Most especially Saian. I just fucking love her.

If you asked me to make a tier list of all my OCs I’ve ever shared, Saian would have her own tier to herself.

I drew this without a background in mind as usual, so I went with the materials ibispaint had to offer and colored over it. I think it turned out well, but I’m in love with the blue background one.

So like I feel like Saian is now part of my Azure Bloom OC universe since I hardly have anything for her within Overwatch. So she may end up just being an Azure Bloom OC in the end. After all, she does have her own family in that universe than Overwatch. Plus, I can make her completely unhinged as much as I want to (*≧∀≦*)

🚫No Reposting🚫

[yourladystar]

Fire Emblem Warriors Three Hopes- New Trailer Analysis

Can I start by saying how f*cking ludicrous my timing is? I, just yesterday, posted my tier list for the FEW characters, and today I woke up to find a new trailer for Three Hopes just dropped. If you think I planned this in the slightest, you are sorely overestimating me.

Anyway, this trailer gave me a lot of material, and it's time to dig in.

Right off the bat, the very first thing they showed threw me for a loop. After almost two months of us thinking we got the premise of this game, they just come out saying, "Hey, you know that purple-haired guy you all thought was the villain? Well, sike! They're the protagonist and Byleth is the villain!" Like

What?!

Huh. I guess "Warriors-style spinoffs being an AU of the original game" is becoming a thing now.

But, honestly, this is probably the best thing about this game so far. Taking the designated protagonist and turning them into an antagonist and giving the spotlight to a new character is absolutely ingenious. Especially because, again they kept us in the dark about this for almost two months. I was already hyped for this game, but now I'm practically impatient for it to release. The moment it becomes available for preorder, I'm getting it.

Speaking of our new protagonist, Shez, they seem pretty interesting. It doesn't seem like they're taking Byleth's place as a professor, they seem to be more like a wandering mercenary who teams up with the house leaders because they have bad blood with Byleth. We still don't know the details of this game's story so I can't be sure of what Shez's deal is, but I'm looking forward to finding out more. I mean, the fact that they actually talk already puts them above Byleth. And even though I like the male design better, I will be playing this as the female because if this game does have s-supports, I am not missing out on Dimitri!

And I guess that transitions to the lords well enough. We do still have the split paths, but, again, since we don't know the details of the story yet, it's unknown why they're fighting each other or what they're fighting against. I still feel like at some point the three houses will combine into one, but we'll have to wait and see. Can I also take a second to gush about the path names? Scarlet Blaze, Azure Gleam, Golden Wildfire; f*ck those are cool names!

And since we're on the three houses, I can talk more about the characters we see. Granted, we don't get much for SB outside of a better look at Hubert, who I still love! He's goth in all the right ways! We do also get a quick shot of him confronting who I think is Ferdinand based on the hair color and armor, but they are just offscreen so I can really tell. Hopefully we'll get a better look at them soon. For AG, we get Dedue and he looks so good! They did my man justice! And for GW, we get a better look at Hilda, whose design I like better than her post-time skip look. And later in the trailer we see Lorenz and Oh my God I love his hair!

Seriously, they are just hitting it outta the park with these new designs.

And I have no clue how to segway into this, but we do get a quick shot of Flayn, and please don't hurt my baby. And also, how exactly does the church fit into all of this? Are they a neutral party? Will they be designated antagonists in certain routes? Are we gonna be able to recruit them? Please let us recruit them. Shamir, Cyril, Seteth, Flayn- I need them with me. Also, playable Rhea cause that would be cool.

And hey, I managed to create a leeway into talking about the gameplay!

Seems like one of my hopes for this game came true as we are getting gameplay features from Three Houses implemented into Three Hopes. Adjutants, weapon arts, battalions, side missions, and the one that caught me most off guard, class changing. Completely altering how you fight to fit your preference. That is amazing (even if I'm going to completely undermine it by sticking to my favorite class because that's just what I do when you give me lots of choices).

And we even get a whole new base to explore. Granted, I know some people found walking around Garreg Mach to get tedious after a while. I never had that problem, since I always found it relaxing. Just make it so the base isn't that big and allow us to access its features outside of it and it shouldn't be that big if an issue.

Also, I have no clue where to put this, but during what I assume is a map from SB, we see that Monica is a member of your team. Like, is that the real Monica? Is that Kronya disguised as her? Is she gonna get outed at one point? Is Edelgard still working with the Slithers in this? Actually, what is the Slithers role in this game?

This is how you can tell I'm invested, I'm asking all these questions.

Also, during the little cutscene montage, we do get a shot of someone that a lot of people seem to think is Holst. If this is the game where we finally get to meet him, that would be kinda sick.

And the last thing I want to discuss is Byleth and how they might be connected to Shez. The trailer says "Challenge the Ashen Demon as a mercenary who was meant to fade into the waves of history." This fits in well with the AU mindset since Shez doesn't exist in Three Houses, but it could take on a different meaning. It's possible that Shez has to fight and defeat Byleth or else they'll cease to exist. After all, we still don't know what's the deal with the new god Shez is connected with, but they do say "I'm the closest ally you have" and "We're partners in destiny", so they may know more than it seems. Or maybe it's a codependency thing where Shez has to exist so they can exist (I can't tell if the God is a boy or girl). We'll have to wait and see.

And no, internet, Byleth is not gonna die. I doubt that IS would have the balls to introduce a new protagonist just to have them f*cking kill the old one. I guarantee that at some point in the story, maybe late game, Byleth will join you. And it will interesting to see Byleth take on a smaller role. Just, for the love of God, don't have them take the spotlight from Shez. This is Shez's story, not Byleth's. I'd rather the focus be on this potentially interesting and intriguing new hero than the walking plank of wood we had last game.

Alright, I think that's everything.

Can you tell I'm really f*cking excited about this game?

[talesofillaros]

Khona Baar, The Wandering Colony

Physical Description: The flat tundra and burning blue sky of Khona Baar stretches for as far as the eye can see. Scrappy flowers grow in abundance, where they aren't trampled by horse's hooves and wagon wheels. The Khona Baara are semi-nomadic, traveling biannually as a form of religious devotion to the wandering Illarian gods. Every equinox, they move from their winter settlements in the south, to their summer settlements in the north. They also do this to avoid the worst of the winter blizzards and summer mud. The weather is harsh in both colonies, but Khona Baar is undoubtedly the coldest part of the Republic. The people keep warm by erecting imposingly tall, gargoyle-clad, stone walls as windbreaks around their city-sites. These are the only permanent parts of Khona Baara towns. Their buildings are actually elaborate and improbably tall, multi-tiered tents, constructed over clever, wooden scaffolding. These felt tents have round, pointed roofs, tipped with flags. They can be up to three stories tall, with inner walls, furnaces, and even indoor plumbing. The felt walls are modified to be waterproof, and often dyed in bright colors. Each city has its own colors. The capital, Mutuur's, are saffron and azure.

Cultural Description: The people of Khona Baar are as tough as their climate. They believe that everyone is obligated is pull all they weight they're able. It doesn't matter if you're male, female, or neither. Human, elf, or Southerner. Rich, poor, or inbetween. If you're self-sufficient and can back up your word, then you will have a place in Khona Baar. Even more so if you're skilled in combat. Love matches are common here, but due to the heavy religious presence, adoption is seen as invalid. Khona Baar is one of the most religious places in the Republic. Their nomadic ways and love of journeys are proof of that. They are an aggressively determined people, lovers of nature, community, and simple pleasures. Additionally, they also have a deep mistrust of outsiders.

Food: Dairy products, such as hard cheeses and savory yogurt, are common Khona Baara fare. Khona Baar is the only place in Illaros where you will find ice cream. They eat lots of meat as well, from the herds that accompany their travels. Most of their vegetables are canned and shipped from Jang Yun. They also like strong, burning liquors.

Clothes: They wear lots of warm leather and wool. Armor is also a common sight. They sew fur onto their clothes, both for fashion and utility. Everyone wears pants, as to not impede their riding abilities. Formal clothing isn't really a thing here. The only difference between the attire of a lord and a herdsmen is the quality of the material, superior fur cuffs, and embroidery or metal studs on the leather. Other then that, all people wear hats or helmets, parkas, warm leggings, and heavy, spurred boots.

Media: They have some quality oral tradition here, with emphasis on warrior stories. These tales are usually accompanied by music and dancers. Khona Baar, due to its proximity to Skysheer, has a lot of bards, both trained humans and elven immigrants. They also treat leather-working as a form of art. Every saddle or sword sheath is a thing of beauty.

Money and Industry: Khona Baar, like its fellow colony Two-Skys, is poor. They mostly export animal products like fur, leather, wool, and meat. They maintain their self-sufficient attitude when it comes to trade, and don't import much other than vegetables and wood. Different towns mostly just trade the essentials with each other. On the bright side, there isn't much of a gap between the rich and poor, because people really only sell the essentials, and those will always sell well. If you want something fancy, like a blown-glass vase, you make it yourself. They also have a highly trained military, organized into war bands, and Skysheer often pays them to keep Skysheerian bandits in check.

[autolovecraft]

Of marble and porphyry are the turrets of marble upon its walls.

I boarded the White Ship sailed into the mist lifted, we beheld on the infinitely distant horizon ahead the titanic spray of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in the Land of Hope, and saw that the city was greater than that of the world drop down to abysmal nothingness.

In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is no bound, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the wave-tips or of the West? Day after day and night after night did we sail, and besought the bearded man again implored me to embark for far unknown shores.

In the days of my grandfather had assumed its care. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms.

I heeded him not; for Sona-Nyl is known of men, and cities of gold. And it was by moonlight the sparkling sea, the City of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. And when the tide is high. One night I espied upon the platform of that land, the City of a mighty city; and far back beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria. I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the horizon and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Then as I glanced out over the city. So the White Ship from the East. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the seven seas. Soon to our eyes appeared on the infinitely distant horizon. And the roof is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of the mountain snow. Thus would I speak to myself, is the palace of Dorieb, and with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things which in turn he told to me, who had voyaged far from the shore stands the gray vapors of the West. For the aeons that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West. High is the palace of Dorieb, and the lutanist. The old captains of the West. This is Xura, the City of a whiteness greater than that of the celestial bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky the spires of its temples reached, so that no man might behold their peaks; and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. But more wonderful than the lore of books is the secret lore of books is the secret lore of old men and the lore of ocean. But more wonderful than the sweetest songs of the tortoise, and with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. It was against the full moon I boarded the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. The gods are greater than men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. And whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently over the city was greater than that of the West. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the azure sky, and having such carven figures of gods and heroes that he who looks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the living Olympus. Of marble and porphyry are the houses of the sun and enhances the splendor of the ages. Then did the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, and told him of my new yearnings to depart for remote Cathuria, which we may never behold again.

From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the azure sky, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and he seemed to know well, and saw that the White Ship sailed silently away from that damnable coast the bearded man left the happy shore of Sona-Nyl is known of men and of things which were not men.

Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say to myself, is the secret lore of books is the abode of gods and heroes that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. Very brightly did the bearded man warn me to turn back, but unseen when the moon shone full and high in the heavens. Then I spoke with the memories and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship sailed on past the walls of Thalarion, the Land of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. From the East. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the waste I saw on the cruel rocks, but watched me as we could see entrancing panoramas of loveliness, with tears on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Hope, and I heard the shrieking of men and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. I beheld the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the cities of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and whether the wind howled eerily from the sea have grown clear and cool the fountains, and cities of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the South it was by moonlight the sparkling sea, the Land of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and the lore of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. And the cities of Sona-Nyl. And the bearded man said to me, who had voyaged far from the sea and meet in a resplendent arch. Far from the three-colored shell of the seven seas. And I viewed by moonlight that we anchored at last in the books men gave me when I was young and filled with the glow of that land there is no bound, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. From the East. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the waters to the sound of melody the White Ship, and cities of Sona-Nyl; for from the full moon and dwelt in the Land of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and freighted with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. Green are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and to our eyes appeared on the distant horizon ahead the spires of its temples reached, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say to myself of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the wave-tips or of the celestial bird, and their pavements also are of gold.

And when the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Sometimes at twilight the gray lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are no longer men, and when the wind howled eerily from the distant thunder of falling waters, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the ways beneath. Blue, green, gray walls, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. The wind grew stronger, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. Soon to our ears came the distant peaks. But more wonderful than the lore of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are seen when the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. And the floor of the ages. Then I spoke with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had known or dreamed of before. On the green shore the bearded man spoke no word, but watched me as I glanced out over the brink of the ways that are; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and to our ears came the notes of the torrent. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and among the sights before me were many things I had ever known; the visions of young poets who died in want before the world drop down to abysmal nothingness. Then I spoke with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. Out of the azure sky, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and the bearded man say to myself, is the secret lore of books is the palace of Dorieb, whom some say to be a demi-god and others a god. With the dawn I descended the tower and looked for wreckage upon the rocks, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, the City of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. At night the deep waters of the cities of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. I viewed by moonlight the sparkling sea, the City of a mighty city; and though many times since has the moon shone full and high in the harbor of Sona-Nyl is known of men and the lutanist. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more ancient than the lore of books is the Land of Hope, and with the glow of that crash came darkness, and among the trees flutter gay birds sweet with song. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man left the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness.

The man who had voyaged far from the templed terraces of Zar, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. I saw that the city. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I dwelt for many aeons.

[primaverenart]

Angelic Biology in “Celestial Sphere”  (outdated)

Angels’ bodies are manifestations of divine light and energy, allowing them to perform miracles and change form at will.

An angel’s standing in the Hierarchy is dictated by their Order and Rank, and then Title. “Order” refers to the type of angel, while “Rank” typically refers to the angel’s place in society. A Title is an identifier indicating that an angel has special dominion over some concept, group, etc. An angel’s full name lists their Title, Rank, and Order: ex. “Celeste Dominion Ezramael, Angel of Music”

One’s place in the angelic hierarchy is very fluid and depends on one’s contributions to society.

The possible (or known) Ranks of angels are as follows:

Pearl

Gold

Silver

Bronze

Celeste

Azure

Cerise

Rose

Crimson

Champagne

Jade

Emerald

The possible (or known) angelic Orders are as follows:

Seraph

Cherub

Throne

Dominion

Virtue

Power

Principality

Archangel

Guardian

The higher in Rank and Order an angel is, the more powerful they grow, and by extension their lifespan increases. Order outweighs Rank (ex. a Silver Archangel outranks a Gold Dominion)

One’s Rank manifests in the color of their eyes and the color of their halo. Quite a bit can be deducted about an angel’s place in society can be deducted from their physical appearance and choice of clothing and adornments.

A popular trend that never seems to quite die off among angelic youth is contact lenses (and, although this is less common and more costly, halo colorant) colored to imitate a high rank. However, this is mostly banned, and can get an angel in serious trouble if they were to be caught by an authority figure.

Angels are able to climb the Ranks by doing particular tasks and endeavors, demonstrating exceptional skill, or contributing in notable ways to the furthering of the Empire. Often, these pursuits are of a creative, militaristic, or intellectual nature. However, in some cases an angel ages into a Rank.

-  

An angel’s aging, lifespan, and ability to use their powers is dictated by their Rank, Order, and to a lesser extent, their temperament. Using one’s powers without cause (ex. frequent usage of Holy Light) would age them at a quicker rate than one that does not, as it uses up their life energy. Although this typically doesn’t age an angel significantly at once (unless an angel does a spell or magic work far beyond their typical capacity), considering how much angels do in general, it does build up over time. For example, a peaceable, quiet angel that tended to bide their time would live far longer than one of the same (or in some cases, higher) rank that was brash, violent, and frequently used their powers.

Angels above Celeste Rank, if they are either a Principality, Archangel, or Dominion, are functionally immortal, as their possible lifespan exceeds the lifespan of the Universe. The only angels that are technically fully immortal are Primordial Angels, created from the thoughts of God during the creation of Heaven.

The amount of power contained within an Archangel is nearly endless.

Angels are able to change their Order when they reach Rose Rank, but not before. For instance, a Guardian ascends to Rose and requests to become a Dominion. However, if, for example, a Champagne Guardian goes through the process to become a Virtue, the power imbalance would simply kill them.

If, for example, a Rose Virtue was demoted to Crimson, they would not be changed back into a Guardian, however all the privileges of being Second Sphere and Middle Tier would be stripped.

-

Angels above the order of Guardian are able to manipulate their form at will with ease, and typically have a “default” form. However, it is commonly warned against remaining in a “non-default” form  as it does expend power at a faster rate than normal.

Archaically, many angels’ default forms were horrifying, many-eyed eldritch abominations. This still rings true for some old angels, however currently, angel creation tends to lean heavily towards “winged humanoid.”

If an angel of high enough standing were to be killed, then their remaining power would be expelled in a blast of energy. This is the reason that Lucifer was simply kicked out of Heaven as opposed to simply being executed.

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Angels are mostly created by the Holy Mother Radueriel. Every word that is spoken by her, a newborn angel is created somewhere. Sexual reproduction between angels is heavily restricted, and so it isn’t a viable option for most.

[autolovecraft]

Out of the mountain snow.

So the White Ship sailed on past the walls of Thalarion, the land of Zar, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. High is the palace of Dorieb, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of coral and amber. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and here resound the soft notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the mountains, and many are the houses, and the dreams of Time. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man hath seen, but ever would the bearded man said to me, Beware of those who have looked upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and the gardens of these things which in turn he told to my father told to me in the heavens. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had left it at the hour I sailed away from that damnable coast the bearded man again implored me to turn back to the happy shore of Sona-Nyl there is no pain or death, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of beauty rises another more beautiful.

And I viewed by moonlight that we followed the bird of heaven, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. And thereafter the ocean told me of that full, mellow moon. Green are the groves and radiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. Many times afterward I saw that the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. So the White Ship, and a single shattered spar, of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned. It is the palace is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. And on the night I answered the call, and to me unknown. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and chilled me as I crouched on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I had ever known; the praises of me, Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. Thus would I speak to myself, is the secret lore of books is the Land of Fancy, and to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but ever would the bearded man say to me, with tears on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Fancy, and felt the first time since my grandfather had assumed its care. And these glimpses have been as often of the seven seas.

And the bird of heaven flew before, and sounding mine own praises; the praises of me, Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. And when the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the South it was that the White Ship followed the bird of heaven flew before, and I walked out over the sea. At night the deep waters of the singer and the land of unnumbered cities of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and having such carven figures of gods and heroes that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. Many times afterward I saw outlined the beckoning form of the cities of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and sounding mine own praises; the visions of young poets who died in want before the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. Then I spoke with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time.

The wind grew stronger, and when the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Out of the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept before me. It was against the full moon I boarded the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land. This is Thalarion, the land of unnumbered cities of Sona-Nyl, and ever did he beckon me to turn back to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. In the Land of Cathuria are all palaces, and they have conquered. And it was by moonlight that we followed the bird of heaven, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. And the bearded man said to me in a resplendent arch. And whether the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, for beyond each vista of beauty rises another more beautiful. And when the music ceased and the bearded man told me of that lighthouse whence I had once seen through the mists beyond the basalt pillars of the sea. The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me, Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies.

Fairest of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the full moon and dwelt in the Land of Pleasures Unattained. Then as I heard the shrieking of men and of things which were not men. And I looked again, at closer range, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the celestial bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of which it had appeared. Into Thalarion, the White Ship, and with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had known or dreamed of before. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man hath seen, but this time the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed madly away from my far native land.

In the gardens of these cities are strange orchids, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. And in the immemorial year of Tharp that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I dwelt for many days a southward-flying bird, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. And the roof is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of ruby and azure, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. Out of that crash came darkness, and a single shattered spar, of a vessel breaking up on the distant horizon ahead the spires of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and to me in a soft language I seemed to know well, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept before me were many things besides, in the heavens. Then I spoke with the memories and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship, and my father and grandfather kept before me were many things besides, in the heavens, the Land of Hope, and freighted with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. I had once seen through the mists beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the distant horizon. Many times afterward I saw that the White Ship sailed silently away from the three-colored shell of the tortoise, and with the glow of that crash came darkness, and chilled me as we sailed away from that damnable coast the bearded man warn me to embark for far unknown shores. Nevertheless at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the White Ship followed the bird of heaven flew before, and we walked to the heavens.

In Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the East tempestuous winds arose, and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship from the grotto-born river Narg. And the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the South came never again. And the bearded man left the happy folk, of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom.

[autolovecraft]

The gods are greater than any I had sailed so many aeons.

All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and the dreams of Time. And when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I beheld the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and stately and gorgeous the temples, castles, and besought the bearded man say to myself of Cathuria with its splendid groves and pastures, bright and beautiful, and besought the bearded man said to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but unseen when the wind howled eerily from the full moon, and with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. Out of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed madly away from that damnable coast the bearded man, bearded and robed, and felt the first time since my grandfather had assumed its care. On the green shore of Sona-Nyl is known of men, and in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. Fairest of all is the Land of Fancy. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any city I had left it at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, This is Thalarion, the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the night, when I had sailed so many aeons. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are; for from the East. Then as I crouched on the cruel rocks, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the West, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the singer and the gardens of these things, and here hang the trophies of the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed.

Its forests are of gold. In my mind I would often picture the unknown Land of Fancy. Then did the bearded man said to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the South came never again. For the aeons that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. The wind grew stronger, and the bearded man again implored me to embark for far unknown shores. Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the basalt pillars of ruby and azure, and the lore of old men and the land of Zar, for beyond each vista of beauty that come from the sea. I speak to myself, is the Land of Hope, and felt the first stirrings of unrest.

Of that land there is no bound, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. In the darkness below there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the distant peaks. So once more the White Ship. And I have read more of these things, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically.

From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. The gods are greater than any I had sailed so many; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as of the West. Blue, green, gray walls, and whether the sea and meet in a resplendent arch.

There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had ever known; the praises of me, with steepled towns nestling in verdant valleys, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms.

But we did not set foot upon the living Olympus.

In the Land of Fancy, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples.

In the Land of Fancy. Green are the houses of the torrent. It is the palace of Dorieb, and whether the wind howled eerily from the distant horizon. And the bearded man, and he seemed to know well, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. But we did not set foot upon the platform of that full, mellow moon. So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from that damnable coast the bearded man to land me at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams.

Soon to our eyes appeared on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I had sailed so many aeons ago. And whether the wind howled eerily from the three-colored shell of the azure sky, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when I looked upon the living Olympus.

Far from the sea was rough or calm, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the mountain snow. With the dawn I descended the tower, I beheld the basalt pillars of the West. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed away. And it was by moonlight the sparkling sea, the City of a whiteness greater than men, and my father not so many; and far back beyond the horizon and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we followed the bird, we beheld the green shore of far lands, bright and beautiful, and I know it well. Far from the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, where as far inland as we approached the lily-lined shore.

[autolovecraft]

Soon to our ears came the distant peaks.

And the houses of the ways that were and the ways beneath. Far from the East. In my mind I would often picture the unknown Land of Fancy. Soon to our eyes appeared on the distant horizon ahead the spires of its temples reached, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say to me, Beware of those who have looked upon the eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the waters of the azure sky, and the lore of books is the palace of Dorieb, whom some say reach even to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into the mist lifted, we beheld the basalt pillars of the sacred Narg. Nevertheless at the hour I sailed away from my far native land. It was against the full moon I boarded the White Ship.

At first it told to me, with steepled towns nestling in verdant valleys, and of things which in turn he told to me in a resplendent arch. And when the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently over the waste I saw that the light had failed for the first time since my grandfather had assumed its care. As the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. The gods are greater than any I had known or dreamed of before.

Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the sea have grown clear and cool the fountains, and shewing here and there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and here resound the soft notes of the West. And on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, the crystal headlands, and besought the bearded man to land me at the hour I sailed away from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke no word, but which all believe to lie beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.

And I closed my eyes before the crash that I dwelt for many aeons. Then did the bearded man left the happy harbor for untraveled seas. I sailed away.

Then I spoke with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. But more wonderful than the mountains, and here hang the trophies of the ways beyond; and though many times since has the moon shine on the far horizon ahead the spires of its temples reached, so that no man hath seen, but who can tell what lies beyond the basalt pillars of ruby and azure, and followed for many days a southward-flying bird, and a single shattered spar, of a vessel breaking up on the thirty-first day that we anchored at last, saying, Into Thalarion, and they have conquered.

Then I spoke with the glow of that full, mellow moon. In Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the South it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Up from the sea was rough or calm, and we walked to the heavens. And the floor of the palace of the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness.

On the green shore the bearded man say to be a demi-god and others a god. Day after day and night after night did we sail, and my father and grandfather kept before me were many things I had left it at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, This is the secret lore of ocean. Very brightly did the bearded man spoke no word, but which all believe to lie beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.

Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and shewing here and there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and chilled me as I glanced out over the waters to the heavens. And the bearded man to land me at the next full moon one night in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the cities of gold. And I viewed by moonlight that we anchored at last in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. And the bearded man told me of that full, mellow moon. And on the infinitely distant horizon. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man left the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Far from the sea came often to my father told to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but unseen when the moon shone full and high in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. Out of the South it was that the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land. Thus would I speak to myself, is the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the sun and enhances the splendor of the ways beneath. And whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. For the aeons that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as though I were the last man on our planet. And the bearded man spoke at last, saying, This is Thalarion, and the land of unnumbered cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and radiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. I speak to myself, is the abode of gods and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Sona-Nyl, and freighted with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had sailed so many aeons ago.

Then did the bearded man spoke at last, saying, Into Thalarion, and told him of my grandfather had assumed its care.

And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy shore of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and though many times since has the moon shine on the far horizon ahead the spires of a whiteness greater than that of the azure sky, and here resound the soft notes of the oarsmen sang no soft songs of the celestial bird, we beheld the basalt pillars of ruby and azure, and chilled me as we approached the lily-lined shore. Then I spoke with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the distant horizon.

And the bearded man again implored me to turn back, but I heeded him not; for Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the templed terraces of Zar, we beheld the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. Its forests are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and the streets are white with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries.

Out of the cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and pastures, bright and beautiful, and a single shattered spar, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Far from the full moon one night in the harbor of Sona-Nyl there is no bound, for beyond each vista of beauty that come from the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to know well, and having such carven figures of gods and heroes that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the ways that are no longer men, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come to men once and then are forgotten. Out of the ways that might be, as of the cities as blissful gods view them from the three-colored shell of the ways beyond; and though many times since has the moon shine on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet.

[autolovecraft]

In my mind I would say to me unknown.

In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently over the waters of the celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the brink of the wave-tips or of the horizon stretched the grim, gray walls, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. And the bearded man said to me unknown. And the bird of heaven, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes.

And the bearded man again implored me to turn back to the White Ship sailed on past the walls of Thalarion, the City of a vessel breaking up on the night I espied upon the platform of that full, mellow moon. Day after day and night after night did we sail, and here hang the trophies of the azure sky, and we walked to the heavens. In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is no bound, for beyond each vista of beauty rises another more beautiful. Very brightly did the bearded man spoke no word, but watched me as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. And thereafter the ocean told me of that full, mellow moon. For the aeons that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.

And whether the sea came often to my grandfather and told him of these things, and they have conquered. The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me, Beware of those who have looked upon the eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to beckon me to turn back to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. Blue, green, gray walls, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the West. And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the night I espied upon the living Olympus. Up from the three-colored shell of the ages. One night I espied upon the terraces again I saw him under the full moon one night in the books men gave me when I went within the tower, I saw that what he said was true, for beyond each vista of beauty that come from the mists beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.

I glanced out over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. I trembled.

Up from the shore stands the gray lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are seen when the moon shone full and high in the Land of Fancy, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. It is the Land of Fancy, and with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had sailed so many; in the books men gave me when I looked upon the living Olympus. And on the infinitely distant horizon. As we drew nearer the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the North Point light that my father told to my grandfather there were many things I had sailed so many; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the palace of the tortoise, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where as far inland as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the reluctant bearded man spoke at last in the Land of Sona-Nyl, which we may never behold again. I yearned mightily to enter this fascinating yet repellent city, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and whether the sea was rough or calm, and stately and gorgeous the temples, castles, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria. For the aeons that I saw that the White Ship used to come when the moon shone full and high in the Land of Sona-Nyl; for ocean is more ancient than the sweetest songs of the seven seas. Its forests are of coral and amber.

And the bearded man spoke no word, but ever would the bearded man said to me unknown.

At first it told to me in the heavens, the White Ship from the three-colored shell of the azure sky, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the sea.

And when the music ceased and the lore of books is the abode of gods and heroes that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore. But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the hours were filled with soft songs of the night I espied upon the living Olympus.

Of that land there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and though many times since has the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the sea and meet in a resplendent arch. And when I had once seen through the mists beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the mountains, and whether the sea. So the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the sea. And I have read more of these things, and I heard the shrieking of men, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. And as we could see entrancing panoramas of loveliness, with tears on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the horizon and in it shine the perfect ideals of all is the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the ways that might be, as of the great monarch Dorieb, whom some say to myself, is the abode of gods and heroes that he who looks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the living Olympus. Green are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Up from the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any city I had ever known; the praises of me, with steepled towns nestling in verdant valleys, and with the bearded man said to me in the heavens. And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the singer and the hours were filled with soft songs of the night, when I had sailed so many; in the Land of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes.

[autolovecraft]

I would say to be a demi-god and others a god.

And on the infinitely distant horizon. And whether the sea came often to my father not so many; and sometimes at night the streets and the land of unnumbered cities of gold. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are; for ocean is not silent. I saw outlined the beckoning form of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed madly away from my far native land. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, I beheld the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and a single shattered spar, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. At first it told to my grandfather there were many; in the harbor of Sona-Nyl, which we may never behold again. But more wonderful than the mountains, and freighted with the bearded man spoke at last in the books men gave me when I looked again, at closer range, and they have conquered. And I viewed by moonlight that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. In the gardens are lit with gay lanthorns fashioned from the three-colored shell of the seven seas. Cathuria with its splendid groves and radiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. In Sona-Nyl, and having such carven figures of gods and the air was filled with the glow of that crash came darkness, and to our ears came the distant horizon ahead the titanic spray of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned. Out of that land, the White Ship used to come when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I would say to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but I heeded him not; for ocean is more ancient than the lore of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples.

Its forests are of gold. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and freighted with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the distant horizon ahead the titanic spray of a Thousand Wonders, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. With the dawn I descended the tower, I beheld the basalt pillars of the sea was rough or calm, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old men and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship from the sea. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and of many things I had left it at the hour I sailed away from my far native land. It is the abode of gods and the hours were filled with soft songs of the West, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as of the sacred Narg. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and where the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. Then did the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the azure sky, and besought the bearded man spoke at last in the harbor of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and far back beyond the basalt pillars of the torrent. And the floor of the ways that were and the ways beneath. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the sacred Narg. And thereafter the ocean told me of that crash came darkness, and the land of unnumbered cities of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and I know it well. In Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the mists beyond the basalt pillars of the ways that might be, as of the world drop down to abysmal nothingness.

Far from the grotto-born river Narg.

And whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. From the East.

Then as I glanced out over the waste I saw outlined the beckoning form of the ages.

Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept before me. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the oarsmen as we approached the lily-lined shore. At night the deep waters of the South it was that the city. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the waters of the sea came often to my grandfather there were many things besides, in the books men gave me when I was young and filled with wonder. And the bearded man left the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. In the darkness below there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a monstrous cataract, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. So the White Ship used to come when the moon was full and high in the days of my grandfather there were many; in the harbor of Sona-Nyl is known of men, and freighted with the reluctant bearded man spoke at last, saying, Into Thalarion, the White Ship followed the bird of heaven flew before, and we walked to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. In the darkness below there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird of heaven, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. Blue, green, gray walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. And in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. Up from the full moon. Many times afterward I saw that what he said was true, for among the sights before me were many; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the celestial bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of which it had appeared. From the East. Sometimes at twilight the gray vapors of the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, we beheld the green shore the bearded man again implored me to turn back to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had left it at the next full moon and dwelt in the heavens. In the days of my father, and the land of Zar, where as far inland as we could see entrancing panoramas of loveliness, with tears on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Hope, and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship from the South it was that the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. Soon to our eyes appeared on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. Up from the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, where as far inland as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I was young and filled with soft songs of the sun and enhances the splendor of the West? Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are; for from the East tempestuous winds arose, and they have conquered. And on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. Out of the sacred Narg. The wind grew stronger, and I know it well. And these glimpses have been as often of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria. And when the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. And the bearded man spoke no word, but who can tell what lies beyond the basalt pillars of the ages. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man hath seen, but unseen when the tide is high. And whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically.

Into Thalarion, the crystal headlands, and ever did he beckon me. And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the ways that might be, as though I were the last man on our planet. From the East. Far from the distant peaks.

Out of the singer and the mist lifted, we beheld the basalt pillars of the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man hath seen, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed.

Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more ancient than the lore of old men and the land of unnumbered cities of gold. On the green shore of Sona-Nyl there is no bound, for beyond each vista of beauty that come to men once and then are forgotten. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are; for ocean is more ancient than the lore of books is the abode of gods and heroes that he who looks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is told that he who looks up to those heights seems to gaze upon the platform of that lighthouse whence I had left it at the hour I sailed away.

In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of gold.

[autolovecraft]

And when the tide is high.

And I closed my eyes and beheld myself upon the sloping meadows of Zar, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of beauty rises another more beautiful.

Soon to our ears came the notes of the seven seas. Many times afterward I saw on the night I espied upon the living Olympus. Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria are all palaces, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. Out of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed madly away from my far native land. Out of the sea have grown clear and cool the fountains, and told him of these cities are strange orchids, and with the unburied bones of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. And it was that the light had failed for the first stirrings of unrest. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and freighted with the glow of that crash came darkness, and we walked to the happy harbor for untraveled seas. Cathuria. In the gardens of these things which were not men. On the green shore of Sona-Nyl there is no pain or death, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures.

So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. Up from the mists beyond the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the torrent.

Into the sky out of which it had appeared. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the world drop down to abysmal nothingness. Out of that land, the crystal headlands, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the streets and the dreams of Time. And these glimpses have been as often of the ways beneath. Then I spoke with the unburied bones of those who have looked upon the rocks, but I heeded him not; for Sona-Nyl is known of men, and my father and grandfather kept before me. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had known or dreamed of before. The old captains of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come from the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, for beyond each vista of beauty rises another more beautiful.

From the East tempestuous winds arose, and the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the West? And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the ages. Far from the full moon.

At first it told to my father not so many aeons ago. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the South it was by moonlight that we anchored at last, saying, Into Thalarion, the City of a mighty city; and far back beyond the basalt pillars of the cities as blissful gods view them from the distant peaks. And the floor of the ways that were and the land of Zar, for beyond each vista of beauty that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when I had known or dreamed of before.

And whether the sea. In my mind I would often picture the unknown Land of Sona-Nyl, and having such carven figures of gods and the dreams of Time. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the brink of the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy shore of Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the East. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. Many times afterward I saw on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. But we did not set foot upon the eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the waters to the happy harbor for untraveled seas. I looked upon the deck a man, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any city I had known or dreamed of before. Out of that crash came darkness, and I walked out over the sea came often to my grandfather and told him of these cities are strange orchids, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the palace of the North Point light that my father, and besought the bearded man again implored me to embark for far unknown shores. Then did the bearded man again implored me to embark for far unknown shores.

And the bearded man say to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but I heeded him not; for from the three-colored shell of the azure sky, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the South came never again.

At first it told to me, who had voyaged far from the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically.

From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I saw outlined the beckoning form of the cities of Cathuria, but which all believe to lie beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of the sacred Narg. In the Land of Hope, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the waters to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. But more wonderful than the mountains, and with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. And the houses, and the hours were filled with the unburied bones of those who have looked upon the living Olympus.

Then as I crouched on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I had known or dreamed of before. At first it told to my father, and stately and gorgeous the temples, castles, and here resound the soft notes of the azure sky, and many are the groves and palaces, and I know it well. Into Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned. This is Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, wherein the oceans of the great monarch Dorieb, whom some say to be a demi-god and others a god. I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West.

So the White Ship used to come when the music ceased and the lore of ocean. The man who had voyaged far from the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to beckon me to embark for far unknown shores. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. And when I had known or dreamed of before.

So the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and to our ears came the notes of the tortoise, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the torrent.

I have read more of these things which in turn he told to my grandfather there were many things besides, in the later watches of the torrent. Then as I heard the shrieking of men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.

One night I answered the call, and the ways that might be, as though I were the last man on our planet. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. And the bird of heaven flew before, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the cities of gold. I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West. In the Land of Fancy. Nevertheless at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the City of a whiteness greater than that of the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy harbor for untraveled seas. At night the streets are white with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. And these glimpses have been as often of the celestial bird, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old men and of many things I had left it at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the Land of Hope, and to me in a resplendent arch. Up from the distant horizon ahead the spires of its temples reached, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say reach even to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into the mist lifted, we beheld the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are all palaces, and cities of Cathuria, I beheld the green shore the bearded man said to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but watched me as I crouched on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I was young and filled with wonder. So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven flew before, and whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Many times afterward I saw that the light had failed for the first stirrings of unrest.

[autolovecraft]

Out of the tortoise, and I know it well.

Fairest of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. And on the cruel rocks, and we walked to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the ages. Blue, green, gray walls, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. So to the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. And the houses of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far inland as we sailed madly away from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke at last, saying, This is Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom. At night the streets are white with the unburied bones of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and I walked out over the sea and meet in a resplendent arch. Thus would I speak to myself, is the palace of the South it was that the light had failed for the first stirrings of unrest. And in the long autumn evenings when the wind was friendly or adverse, it would glide very smoothly and silently over the brink of the wave-tips or of the South it was by moonlight that we anchored at last in the days of my father, and felt the first time since my grandfather there were many; in the heavens, the Land of Fancy, and followed for many aeons. The man who had voyaged far from the shore stands the gray vapors of the azure sky, and the hours were filled with wonder. And when I was young and filled with wonder. And the houses of the great monarch Dorieb, and when the tide is low, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the West, but which all believe to lie beyond the basalt pillars of the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters to the White Ship, and told him of these cities are strange orchids, and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Many times afterward I saw outlined the beckoning form of the wave-tips or of the ways beyond; and though many times since has the moon shine on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I looked upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and sounding mine own praises; the visions of young poets who died in want before the crash that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and cities of gold. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.

And the cities of gold. And it was that the White Ship sailed silently away from the South it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. High is the Land of Fancy. Up from the mists beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of the West, but I heeded him not; for ocean is not silent. And the bearded man said to me, This is the abode of gods and the hours were filled with the memories and the streets and the dreams and thoughts of beauty rises another more beautiful.

Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of the sun and enhances the splendor of the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent.

So the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. But we did not set foot upon the rocks, and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and though many times since has the moon shine on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. Out of the South came never again.

So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land. And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the oarsmen sang no soft songs of the cities of Sona-Nyl there is no pain or death, but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. Into Thalarion, the City of a whiteness greater than that of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently over the waters to the sound of melody the White Ship followed the bird, we beheld on the cruel rocks, but this time the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed away from my far native land. But the bearded man left the happy harbor for untraveled seas. From the East. Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and led us toward the basalt pillars I fancied there came the distant thunder of falling waters, and I walked out over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Over the countryside and amidst the splendor of cities can move at will the happy shore of far lands, bright and beautiful, and my father and grandfather kept before me. It is the secret lore of ocean. And the houses of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed away from the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to beckon me. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the West, but watched me as I heard another crash I opened my eyes before the world drop down to abysmal nothingness. But the bearded man said to me, Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are seen when the moon was full and high in the long autumn evenings when the moon shone full and high in the immemorial year of Tharp that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West. Of that land there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and though many times since has the moon shine on the distant horizon. And the floor of the cities as blissful gods view them from the mists beyond the horizon and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we anchored at last, saying, This is Xura, the City of a vessel breaking up on the distant horizon ahead the spires of a Thousand Wonders, wherein the oceans of the West? Thus would I speak to myself, is the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the great monarch Dorieb, and here resound the soft notes of the seven seas. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man say to myself of Cathuria are all palaces, and the air was filled with wonder. And the floor of the sea. In Sona-Nyl, and told him of my grandfather had assumed its care.

At first it told to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but unseen when the music ceased and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria are all palaces, and led us toward the basalt pillars I fancied there came the distant thunder of falling waters, and we walked to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. Out of the ways that are seen when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I saw that the light had failed for the first stirrings of unrest. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. It is the Land of Hope, and sounding mine own praises; the praises of me, who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me unknown. And these glimpses have been as often of the West? As we drew nearer the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and I heard the shrieking of men and the lore of old men and the dreams of Time. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had known or dreamed of before. So the White Ship from the three-colored shell of the wave-tips or of the celestial bird, and to me, This is the palace is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of the cities of gold. Over the countryside and amidst the splendor of cities can move at will the happy harbor for untraveled seas.

[autolovecraft]

So to the heavens.

All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and the ways beneath. So once more the White Ship, and my father told to me in the days of my father told to me in a resplendent arch. Up from the grotto-born river Narg. And in the later watches of the ways that might be, as of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the mountains, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of coral and amber.

In my mind I would say to be a demi-god and others a god. And I have read more of these cities are strange orchids, and here resound the soft notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the sweetest songs of the sea. Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, I would say to myself of Cathuria, but who can tell what lies beyond the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. In the days of my new yearnings to depart for remote Cathuria, but which all believe to lie beyond the horizon and in it shine the perfect ideals of all that we followed the bird, and the dreams of Time. In the gardens of these cities are strange orchids, and I walked out over the sea came often to my grandfather and told him of these things which in turn he told to me, who had voyaged far from the sea was rough or calm, and with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things which were not men. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say to myself, is the Land of Hope, and having such carven figures of gods and the lore of old men and of many things I had sailed so many aeons ago. And I looked upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time.

Fairest of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Then I spoke with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. Out of that lighthouse whence I had once seen through the mists beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray walls, and in the immemorial year of Tharp that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West. Fairest of all is the secret lore of books is the Land of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the cities as blissful gods view them from the sea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the sacred Narg.

The man who had voyaged far from the grotto-born river Narg. So the White Ship, and cities of gold. Green are the houses of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far inland as we approached the lily-lined shore. In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and I heard the shrieking of men and the bearded man warn me to turn back, but I heeded him not; for ocean is not silent. Of that land there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and sometimes at night the streets are white with the unburied bones of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies.

And whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man left the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. I had ever known; the praises of me, who had voyaged far from the South it was by moonlight the sparkling sea, the City of a mighty city; and now there are so few that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the seven seas. With the dawn I descended the tower, I saw on the thirty-first day that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the West, but unseen when the music ceased and the hours were filled with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries.

Green are the houses, and chilled me as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the glow of that full, mellow moon. And the houses, and to our eyes appeared on the far horizon ahead the titanic spray of a whiteness greater than men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. The wind grew stronger, and felt the first time since my grandfather and told him of these things, and when the music ceased and the lutanist. One night I answered the call, and they have conquered. At first it told to my grandfather there were many; and far back beyond the basalt pillars of the torrent. And the bird, and as I glanced out over the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to know well, and we walked to the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land. The old captains of the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the ages. From the East.

And the bearded man to land me at the hour I sailed away from the three-colored shell of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. And as we could see basked lovely groves and palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the South came never again. The old captains of the oarsmen sang no soft songs of the mountain snow. So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from that damnable coast the bearded man warn me to turn back, but I heeded him not; for from the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the West. Over the countryside and amidst the splendor of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we sailed away from the templed terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and I walked out over the waters to the heavens. I know it well. And thereafter the ocean told me of that crash came darkness, and would wonder what new delights there awaited me. Its forests are of gold. In the days of my father told to me in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. And as we sailed away.

Thus would I speak to myself, is the abode of gods and the dreams of Time. Cathuria. It is the Land of Fancy. And the roof is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. And when I went within the tower, I would say to be a demi-god and others a god. And the floor of the cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and radiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the West. On the green shore the bearded man said to me, This is Thalarion, the crystal headlands, and cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and pastures, bright and fragrant the flowers, blue and musical the streams, clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the West. Cathuria are all palaces, and here resound the soft notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the lore of ocean. Sometimes at twilight the gray lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are; for Sona-Nyl, which no man might behold their peaks; and far back beyond the basalt pillars of ruby and azure, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of beauty rises another more beautiful. Then did the moon was full and high in the long autumn evenings when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I would say to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but ever would the bearded man to land me at the next full moon. It is the secret lore of books is the palace of Dorieb, whom some say to me, Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. In the darkness below there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a monstrous cataract, wherein the oceans of the celestial bird, we beheld the basalt pillars of the North Point light that my father, and in the days of my grandfather there were many things besides, in the heavens, the City of a whiteness greater than men, and the ways beneath. So once more the White Ship sailed into the mist lifted, we beheld the green shore the bearded man say to me, This is Xura, the City of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned.