My voice, Father.
Is yours.
No longer can it speak to mortal men.
These visions I see torment me.

I am Your prophet, but I've never seen visions like these.
Such tormented, tortured visions.
Grima Flameforge, laughing in her victory.
Spiders crawling in my flesh.
Jerh'mias, commanding me to be silent.

I will be silent.
I can't tell them what I see.
My Father... I've been sent these visions.
I believe from the Garden.
They tell me.
They tell me.
To be quiet.
Silence.
From the Garden?

These visions, they show me...
What is to become of you.
I am your Prophet. I've been shown Your future.
I know...
And I am afraid

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Valnuary, in the year 409 AF.