To the Sun Goddess, my shining Patron, mentor, and guiding light:

I miss you terribly.

Of the eight-pointed star, one has taken her own life, two have strayed
from the Golden Path, and two have fallen into a deep slumber--leaving
only three to maintain the vigil.

The rituals have become useless in our mortal hands; we perform them so
they will not be forgotten, yet our actions are merely mechanical. The
meanings of our ceremonies are lost to us. We welcome those who seek
Your radiance into the ranks of the Sun, yet they cannot progress
without the guidance of your unblinking eye. Our young ones watch for
You, yet they do not know You nor the Light. Our conviction is shaken,
my Goddess, as the Mitras dwindle into darkness and despair.

I have only the faintest glimmer of hope that You can hear the cries of
the Mitras as we call You back to us. If anything left of the Mithraea I
pledged myself to exists underneath Slith's taint, send us a sign, I beg
of You.

My resolution is firm, my Lady, and I will watch the skies until I see
Your radiance once more. Remember Your children, remember Your sparks of
light, remember the Mitras. We have not forgotten the Golden Path.

Your unwavering Scion,
Shazara Ta'sa


Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Valnuary, in the year 396 AF.