Greetings, Sapience,

While I am perfectly happy to allow people far and wide to jibe and barb and misdirect one another to the point of dizzy exhilaration, there are a few things that really need to be cleared up, before gullible people begin to walk away with the wrong impressions.

First of all, Truth is not subjective. It is the domain and purview of the Lightbringer, and I'm afraid it takes more than a capital 'T' to claim dominion of it (assuming Jinsun meant to write a capital 'T' and wasn't simply having a spasm, his handwriting makes it so difficult to tell).

Three word sentences and vagueries, to which one attaches a capitalized 'Truth', do not make one fit to speak on behalf of the Truth. Nevertheless, as there will always be reprobates who seek to aggrandize themselves by speaking of concepts Gods have claimed by taking advantage of capitalization, I would urge the population of Sapience merely to remember this: the Truth is unchanging, it is immutable, and it is unmanipulable. Those claiming to own it or know it in its entirety, beyond question and beyond doubt, are likely the greatest of the fools on Sapience. Do keep that in mind.

Regarding Saeva- you speak from a heart of cowardice that plagues Mhaldorians, and, I suspect, has plagued you all from the very first day you were born. To misunderstand redemption and absolution for coddling and a willful blindness to one's missteps is the very height of error, and you demonstrate an incredible amount of arrogance, and ignorance, in even daring to write your missive.

To earn one's place among the Bloodsworns' chosen, whether you have just been reborn or are seeking to move away from a lifetime of misdeeds and misguided thoughts is a journey that is, of course, open to all. Do not mistake the case of the priestess of Cyrene for that of the dozens of true servants of the Dawnspear who have, indeed, put their blood, their sweat, and their tears to work for the Gods of Good, and earned their redemption. Know that for every case like the Priestess of Cyrene's, there are dozens who truly put their money where their mouth is, and they are now pillars of our City. But, of course, we always fail to mention that, conveniently.

Furthermore, there is no such thing as an 'Ally' of Targossas. This is a misnomer, a construct, a relic of the past. Shallam had Allies. Shallam accepted those who were 'not against us' as being 'with us.' The Dawnspear does not. Even those who wield the gift of Devotion are beholden to the Bloodsworn, and, yes, punished for transgressions they commit while they hold that gift. Beseeching the Gods of Good for forgiveness without repayment, without service, is always going to garner you the same answer, much the same way that complaining you are hungry will not feed you. If Melodie Le'Murzen wished to regain her gift, I am certain that, with work, with dedication, and likely with blood, the Bloodsworn would see fit to restore her status, should she seek such, having proven herself through service. Service, not words.

You live in a mire of half-truths and self-aggrandizement, and you use words to weave about yourself a fog that makes you difficult to see. In the end, however, when the fog of lies and self-delusions clears, all that is left to see is a person more afraid of committing to something meaningful than children are of the dark. You reveal so very much of yourself, in mistaking bribes for rewards, and in your revelation that you would rather see all of Sapience claim allegiance to Your Lord, such that you may tout that and stand tall and proud, clad in black, than have a handful of braves that would stand beside you, though all the world would rush in to crash over you as a wave. What you crave, what you really wish for, is security, liberty from strife, and you will do anything to buy it, through promises and lies and supposed 'conversions'.

What you are is a coward, spewing the words of cowards. Take comfort in those who 'convert' to your Lord's cause, if you will. Continue to accept comrades-in-arms without questioning the why or the how of their supposed changes of heart. We will remain, those of us who are steadfast, unbowed, and unbreaking, while you and your Citymates will breed and chew away at the illusion of unity and strength brought on by your constant and total evasion of the depths of your souls. There will come a time when, like termites, you will have brought the house you live in down, and when it does, Targossas will look on, and there will be pity in our hearts. Pity stemming from the inevitability of your downfall and the knowledge that, no matter how hard we may try, you will cling to your misconceptions eternally, because you are too yellow-bellied to let go of the safety line you think the lies you have bought and woven represent.

In service,

Anedhel Azon

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Miraman, in the year 656 AF.