Note: The following recovered evidence consists of translated clay tablets recovered from SCP-5213.
Date: A Moon's Fleeting Journey Before Writing
Scribe: Named of Wombs, Union, Love, and Conflict
Title: Chronology
My Father, Named from Kings and Stars, held court with the greatest minds of the Fae just a Moon’s Fleeting Journey Before Writing. They delivered dire news of utmost concern unto him.
They have said that our understanding of time is flawed. They say that the great Epoch in which we currently live is far longer in duration than previously thought, possibly lasting as long as the Epoch of Dragons.
When my father questioned these great minds, a singular man of great prowess and gifted knowledge rose to answer him; a man called Named from Knowledge and the Moon.
He spoke thusly, “Beneath the earth which we tread, Named from Kings and Stars, there exists layers of rock and stone, which are filled with the bones and impressions of long-dead animals, people, and monsters. Each of these layers mark the passage of time as the rock is weathered by the waters and buffered by the winds. One such age, which we named the Epoch of Dragons, for the monsters within these rocks were great of stature and impressive in size, appears to have lasted countless millennia. In comparison, the Epoch of Chaos that we currently find ourselves living in has lasted but a blink of the eye. We have recently discovered yet another layer that rests between the Epoch of Dragons and the Epoch of Ice; this layer is naught but ash and bone and sand.”
My father, devoid of knowledge as ever, called for Named from Knowledge and the Moon to explain himself with greater clarity.
Named from Knowledge and the Moon answered once more, “Lord, on most occasions, we would call upon the long-dead spirits of the earth and rock to explain their lives within these Epochs. We would call forth their Names and drive them to the surface, for the earth is made of countless dead things. When we attempted to question the spirits of ash and bone and sand, there came a great silence. The land there has witnessed the Eternal Oblivion.”
My father stopped at the mention of this dreaded phrase and ushered the other great minds from the hall, leaving only Named from Knowledge and the Moon, myself, and my father within the great hall. We stood silently as the air hung heavy between us all.
Date: A Day Before Writing
Scribe: Named of Wombs, Union, Love, and Conflict
Title: God of the Epoch of Dragons
My father demanded that I make myself available, in the capacity of Scribe, at the ritual of the Calling of the Names. My father wished to witness the questioning of ancient spirits for himself to validate the concerns of that dreaded phrase. This particular Calling of the Names was being conducted at a secluded grove, not far from our enclave’s surreptitious dwelling. My father expressed great apprehension towards such a flagrant display of our magical prowess, knowing well that the Children of the Light and the Children of the Night were seeking and hunting our kind.
All doubts were allayed when Named from Knowledge and the Moon gestured towards a series of engravings which he had carved upon all the oak trees of the forest. He had placed Seals of Concealment, burgeoning with such elder power as to blacken the woodland, into every single tree. The Children would never find us here for we would appear as little more than dancing light before their eyes.
Named from Knowledge and the Moon bowed towards my father and began to weave a solemn song of Names all about us. These Names were ancient and terribly powerful; constructions of the twinned legacies of faith and blood. Pouring elder knowledge into this song, he plunged it into the earth like a spearhead. With a crackle of bright lightning, the earth was split ajar. From this slivered crack in the forest floor, a spirit crawled forth into the pale moonlight. The spirit’s face became a twisted mask of agony as it forced its distorted limbs from the rend between IS and IS NOT.
This particular spirit possessed immense weight and size, towering over the congregation and attendants, but was carried upon six spindly and contorted legs which splayed perpendicular to the body. It had an elongated head with six swollen eyeballs, which scanned the participants of the ritual with malignant disdain and irreverent hatred. It reared its head back and squealed, the noise of which could never be reproduced by a fae’s vocal chords, and charged towards me.
Cowering in fear and paralyzed by an absolute terror, I could feel its decayed and pallid breath upon my face. Its jaws snapped and twisted towards me, but it was unable to harm me, as it was slowly dragged back to the rend in the earth by six ethereal chains.
Named from Knowledge and the Moon struggled against the weight of the spirit. He used the chains of whispered Names to slowly pull the spirit back into the summoning circle, which had been drawn upon the forest floor in charcoal. The spirit’s flat nostrils flared as it flailed wildly at the chains binding its emaciated limbs.
“I speak to you now, God of the Epoch of Dragons, and call upon you to deliver truth and honesty.
I know your Name and with that power, I bind you to our realm; a realm you once walked,” cried Named from Knowledge and the Moon.
In response, the God of the Epoch of Dragons let its distended jaw dangle open, bellowing a horrifying rumbling sound as its ghastly ribs rattled. It grinned an inhumane smile, filled with needles and daggers, and responded, “Ask away, Mortal, for your presence disgusts me and I readily yearn to return to my own dominion which is sequestered in the solemn bliss of death.”
“What manner of people worshiped you?”
“Not people as you would call them,” it heaved and rattled. “Great reptiles of similar stature to mine own. I believe your kind would call them Dragons, for that is what you presumptuously name me. They were far more primitive than you foul, civilised bipeds, for they were enamoured by a bestial lust I well understood. The want of carnage, hunger, and the carnal delights.”
“And so their desire brought about your existence?”
The God of the Epoch of Dragons rattled once more, heaving against the swirling chains. “Did they? Could it not be that Gods create worshippers for theirselves? Alas, the world shall never know, for they are reduced to impressions within the stone, just as my mortal form is now.”
“What is your realm like, wraith?”
“Paradise for the Dragons. Eternal slaughter and abundant prey. In my realm, the world was never blotted out by ash and dust. They continue to reign over all; as it should be.”
“Speaking of ash, spirit, what do you know of the Eternal Oblivion?”
At this phrase, the God’s composure eroded and it painfully flinched away from Named from Knowledge and the Moon. “Speak not of it. It wails the hollow scream of desolation that all realms - even IS NOT - fear.”
“Following the Epoch of Dragons, there exists a layer of bones kissed by the Eternal Oblivion. Did you know of this?”
The God wailed in primal anguish and violently clawed at the clasps wrapped around its limbs. “Disgusting mortals, you could never comprehend the Eternal Oblivion. Your very presence on this plane of existence is fleeting. Death is nothing compared to that. Unchain me and allow me to return to my own plane forged in blissful death!”
“One final question, Nzaadak Cthali! Are you free from the Eternal Oblivion in your realm!”
With the uttering of its Name, the God’s chains were snapped apart and it was freed from its bindings. The spirit writhed in agony as it was dragged back into the rent of the earth, a whispered rattle escaping from its mouth as the last answer any living soul would hear of it.
"Never."
Date: A Moon Before Writing
Scribe: Named of Wombs, Union, Love, and Conflict
Title: The Orrery
My father and the entire Court tremble after witnessing the horrors of the Chaining of Names. Despite the continued slaughter of our people, my father has become obsessed with the Eternal Oblivion. His fears are not unfounded; if our people are to witness the Eternal Oblivion, who will remain to remember those who have fallen already? Must our memory be condemned to dust? This conflict of ours will have been for little and naught if we do not survive it.
My father has consulted the Orrery. Named from Knowledge and the Moon flits about nervously, indecisiveness brewing within his mind, as he too consults the myriad being of Nergalgazur. It offers nothing for our people.
It has spoken thusly, "Whilst you are Named, there is no salvation for you in this realm. The Eternal Oblivion has cursed a thousand civilisations before our own. Do you imagine that you are the first that seeks to escape its tangled web? Never the first and never the last; this is the truth of all things. Your kind shall find no safe harbour within this realm, for we must all become like those that came before us."
My father and Named from Knowledge and the Moon whisper in hushed voices surrounding the Orrery's doomed omen. They say that they will bring our Court to a realm of safety; where we shall remain forever separated from our slaughtered brothers and sisters. We shall honour and remember them in that sheltered realm, untouched by the Eternal Oblivion.
It is our kind's final hope.
