Populace of Sapience,

I have been urged by friends to share with all what I have kept to
those and myself. It is a vision, a sending of the Sight, that I
recieved while wandering the wilderness engaged in my own thoughts. I
was struck by a terrible force, one known to me well by now, and my
eyes that I use to percieve this world were struck blind to be replaced
by a different Sight.

I saw a woman in the final throes of childbirth. Twins, one infinitely
beautiful with a face glowing like the full moon and the other
reciprically ugly born already with a face full of teeth. I saw
glimpses of their childhood, each one the perfect polar opposite of the
other. The fair child took to a woman who was tall and dressed in green
with flowers and leaves sown into her hair. The ugly child was reclusive
and indeed did desert his mother and sister and left suddenly to go and
do what, I have no idea.

Seemingly years pass in an instant, the face of the fair child is my
indication, as she now is a young woman. She stands, arms akimbo, facing
down her brother who has returned to her for the first time since childhood.
He stands hauched over as if burdened by a terrible load, but this posture
belies his true speed and dexterity, as he quickly lashes out at his sister
and wounds her, possibly blinding her.

His graceful and beautiful sister falls to her knees, her long fingered
hands covering her face as a steady stream of blood spills out from beneath
them. Her brother plunders and burns and leaves her to die as if his whole
intention was to maim and kill her and destroy what she holds dear. On her
knees she turns to her childhood friend, now advanced in age but still with
her flowers and leaves. The woman turns her back on the child and walks
away, ignoring and abandoning her.

The fair child sinks even lower and utters a single word, the only word
delivered to me in this vision. A word that transmitted through text loses
all the dispair and sorrow and confusion that it translated to me, in speech,
a single word: "Sister..."

Study or disregard this missive, I am but its messenger.

The Sight council me,
Augur Fetzer

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Miraman, in the year 258 AF.