28th Sun of the Third Astral Moon
Transcribed by King Ismene
“One evening, while relaxing off duty, I overheard a tale told between gleaners of one of their travels; that they had attempted a pilgrimage to a far-off land called Scíth na Gréine (Note: that was horribly mispronounced. Get better, Fern). There had been whisperings of travelers who had visited and were met by a lush landscape filled with flora seen nowhere else; a researcher’s dream, which they told us gleaners to carry out. However, their arrival was not as warmly met… The gleaners that I overheard spoke of horrifying beasts stalking among snowy pines and distant peaks with no end in sight.
I decided to look into it, and what I found was an absolutely massive catalogue of reports about Scíth na Gréine— all of which seemed to contradict each other. One spoke of going to the boundary and finding a massive pit with no visible bottom, with horrible noises coming from within; another spoke of finding a meadow full of karakuls; and yet another spoke of a land “torn asunder by the dogs of war,” the ground littered with bodies of an unknown race gone extinct. There were dozens, no two the same.
Needless to say, it caught my interest. There’s no way the landscape has changed so violently and so often without a record of the people who lived there, or what caused it. So, of course, I had to go out there and see what all of the fuss was about.
There wasn’t any safe passage out there due to it being inhospitable and considered incredibly dangerous, so I just rented a boat instead. When I hit land, it seemed almost right; it was cold and thickly forested, a thick layer of snow smothering the life right out of the earth. But… Danger? Animals? War? This place was empty.
There wasn’t a single walking, talking, living thing. It took about a malm before I found something even vaguely resembling the remnants of a culture, in the form of tiny tattered banners suspended from the trees… Until I stumbled upon a glade covered in massive mushrooms, little creatures flitting about between them. They spoke perfect Common, were very friendly, and quite surprised that I could see them. Based on what they said, very few outsiders get past their “defense systems” and it had been a good amount of time since they had seen someone get through last. They were eager to practice their Common, and did so by asking me an onslaught of questions… which I was delighted to answer, honestly. They were new to me, and how often do you get to learn about a completely different species?
They’re small, only about a foot tip to toe, disregarding antennae and wings. They look a lot like moths, and wear these odd goggles. They hovered around me- I think they were staring at me, but it was hard to tell with said weird goggles. They even pulled out some gizmos and waved them around, writing something down. When they finished with that, they grilled me about my composition, my lineage, my ability to do certain things, if my appearance changed often, yadda yadda; I couldn’t answer much, but I told them what I knew.
One in particular— named Wynn— seemed to act like a voice for them. They told me about their species and about how they lived. I don’t know much about aether myself, but I’ve seen people use the aethernet shards and conjure; they do nothing like that. Everything functions mechanically, apparently, “except for their defense system.” They gave me an odd stare when I asked what made it tick, as if I should know. When I asked if it was aether, it changed to confusion and curiosity. Wynn seemed to know what it was, though, and I suppose it piqued their interest. After answering a hailstorm of questions, they asked to accompany me; how could I possibly say no? After all, it would confirm what I had found in Scíth na Gréine, and provide Sharlayan with a new toy. Maybe it will soothe some nerves about the place…”
— Fern