The notion of context as that which grants meaning is an interesting one, especially considering the axiomatic belief of Easterners that Good is an eternal, enduring, and unchanging force independent of its servants, a force around which we ought to arrange our lives, to which we ought to subjugate our desires, and yet, which does not constitute any form of slavery. There is no more abject slavery than to the weaknesses of a frail ideology seeking to bring the death of history to a static world, devoid of greatness, in which aught else might be achieved. You would deliver unto us a world in which the aspects of life that make it worth living are banished to us, in which the children you raise are taught to abjure strength and to feel shame at its very mention.

So, too, do I find it alarming that the Caefir have essentially allowed themselves ideologically to ignore any and all laws, presumably including those of the Lightbringer's Order or those of the Dawnspear itself, if such a thing 'must be done.' Creation must be safeguarded, but not all of it; no, should you harbour ill intent in the silences of your soul as judged by those with eyes blinded by the fire and smoke of the Eastern pyres, you can surely expect a Caefir to administer your sentence forthwith.

So much for encouraging the diversity of life.

These Axioms of Righteousness might not require a scholar's eye, but were the Caefir really interested in the wellbeing of Creation, they would have faith that those able to rise to the challenge of their doctrine would do so. Instead, they seek to coddle this intellectual laxity among their followers, as though turning one's mind to ploughs and toil in the fields is a productive use of one's time in an era where the harbingers of Chaos routinely stalk the land with impunity. I say unto you that a better fate for your rusting ploughshares is to hammer them into swords, that they might serve the Lord and history and Strength. What is the rest of Sapience to do when Targossas lies idle in its self-appointed duties, when these fields to which you've claimed Targossans will attend instead lie every bit as barren as the vision of Creation you'd so eagerly foist upon the rest of the world, harrowed only by the shattered instruments of your citizenry's forlorn hope?

The followers of the Mad God teach that nothing will be spared the encroaching maw of the Void; were it the case that the Malevolent One stayed the scourge of Evil from the back of Sapience, that all motivation for improvement simply vanished, and that Targossas were the only hope against the howling Northern hordes, we would surely all bear witness to the tragedy of a City grappling against the creeping inertia of its own vision of Creation's ultimate future before succumbing soundlessly to the End of All Things. When you invariably fail in your task, would you consign these charges you deem innocent to the worst of fates once your bulwark lies broken before their eldritch might? Would you, in your last moments, then curse the short-sightedness that caused you to turn your face away from the mountain of the LORD and the one real chance your Creation had to prepare for this Day of Reckoning?

No, it is much more preferable to be that instrument, that scourge, in His hands, for even a slave in His city actively works toward the salvation of itself and the world from the tyranny of weakness. The Fourth Truth, after all, does not disparage the values of forgiveness, tolerance, and laxity of discipline idly; it disparages these effete values because they actively deny others the opportunity to overcome their own failings. These 'virtues' deny those persistent enough in the face of adversity the chance to discover perfection within themselves. Perhaps most damningly, they enable the sorts of flaws on which the followers of Madness depend for their numbers to grow and their plans to come to foul fruition.

In preparing for this Northern threat, you both would do well to heed the lessons of the Jewel; do not seek to bury them beneath the waves, alongside the ruins of its once-proud domes, as I once sought to do. Those things we consider to be the most enduring may crumble if they grow too divorced from the proving grounds of adversity. In withstanding this adversity, in weathering it, you might learn the real value of His Truths and, so doing, prepare for your Day of Reckoning... and in that day, atrocity shall overtake the world, and all shall walk in fear.

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Sarapin, in the year 656 AF.