Too much of what our gods do and say is inexplicable. The way our
mortals follow our gods is worse than inexplicable.

A petulant child wears the Mantle of the Caliph. The same ones who
forged the mantle despise the Gods' choice, I among them. They, and I,
feel that he is morally stunted and enamored with the glamour of office
above all else.

The Gods cast Mathonwy, long Their loyal servant, aside based on an
assumption of guilt instead of innocence. So much for Justice. And their
claims against him were false, I know more surely than any else.

For the sake of victory, the Church and Shallam have allied themselves
with the Qashari, valuing their strength and combat prowess while
consistently ignoring the fact that they are little more than
blood-frenzied mercenaries, thrilled by battle glory above all, adhering
to the Church's rules only enough to avoid being cut off. I was shocked,
but also somewhat elated, to observe the quiet talk among the Prelates
after Mathonwy's departure about quickly installing Ovid as the
Archprelate. Lord Pentharian cut off that path by ousting Ovid the
moment he was inducted.

The East's alliance with Eleusis, a city-state which turns a blind eye
to the suffering of those the Church considers innocents, is another
example of pure expediency. The fact that victory can so easily overrule
principle shows that Good as an ideology is a morasse of flatly asserted
certitudes.

I have devoted the great bulk of my life to extending and clarifying
this morasse, and now I can finally admit that my best efforts have
failed. For a long time I thought that the fault was in myself. Now I
conclude that the fault lies with the gods. With Lord Pentharian, and
with Ladies Miramar, Mithraea, and Lorielan. They may be lying or, more
likely, They are vastly mistaken.


Penned by my hand on the 11th of Phaestian, in the year 541 AF.