#codex;

In an age lost to us, a magister set his eye upon a village insignificant but for rumors of its power. In his greed, he was determined to claim it as his own, and gathered to his side those who believed in his right to that power. The elder of the village, warned of the magister's approach, sent his people away to safety and waited, alone, in his hall for the invaders. 

The magister demanded the elder lead him to the source of the village's power. Three times he was refused, and in his rage, had him taken to the orchard and hung by his wrists from the tallest, oldest tree. Once more, the magister commanded him to reveal the source, or give his life instead. 

The elder, knowing his people were safely away, relented. "I am this place's power," he said, and called down a great wind through the trees, felling orchard and army alike. When it was done, the magister fled, in vain, for his prisoner had one final trick to play.

A circle of fire formed around him, broken only in one place, and there the elder stood, giving the magister a choice between immolation or facing his pursuer. He turned to flee once more, shielding himself with his magic, but the flames proved too strong for him.

The villagers returned when the fire had abated, and, fed by the ashes of that army, their orchard regrew, healthier than ever.

the notes, each identical in wording if not in author, are strewn throughout the living quarters of several farms crucial to Marcher city-states. when (if) soldiers arrive to investigate, they find bewildered human workers, their elvhen counterparts gone in the night, the papers all that were left behind.

YOUR HERALD WAS NEVER YOUR OWN. 

THERE IS SOMETHING FAR MORE PRECIOUS THAN THE FAITH VICTORIA WOULD SEE US CRUSHED UNDER, AS IF THAT LESSON WAS NOT LEARNED THE FIRST TIME, OR THE SECOND, OR THE THIRD.

The notes, each identical in wording if not in author, are strewn throughout the living quarters of several farms crucial to marcher city-states. When (if) soldiers arrive to investigate, they find bewildered human workers, their elvhen counterparts gone in the night, the papers all that were left behind.

Our lives were never yours. 

There exists something far more precious than the faith victoria would see us crushed under, as if that lesson was not learned the first time, or the second, or the third.

Normally, I meet Leonora about the kitchens. But it has been days since our paths crossed. No one has seen her.

I can't help but think of the old stories that cross the slave markets like lightning, how, centuries ago, the ancients built their cities with blood magic, raising the very towers and walls with terrible rituals using our lives as fuel. Thousands of slaves were sacrificed as we were forced onto the altars of the Old Gods. Magister Delphine's perfect, marble-faced mansion likely stands on the back of a hundred voiceless elves.

But that was a different time. Andraste's words against blood magic made the practice all but forbidden and shunned. Though we may be punished, few slaves are dragged to the altar or milked of blood without at least some reprimand.

Yet Leonora is missing, and Magister Delphine seems different. She carries an aura she never had before. And rumors fly that a bitter rival has been publicly humiliated in a duel of magic. Through my grief I fear, I know, that my Leonora's life was the price.

I ache to speak as an equal with Magister Delphine, to demand answers. But such an audience would be a joke to her. No one sees a slave.

Ar'an ele gyast

Ar'an ele rogasha

Ar'an ele revasha

The Fiction Barrier is a phenomenon between Fictives and Real-Agents that, broadly speaking, keeps one from intruding readily into the other. It is named after the Species Barrier between animals and humans that, similarly, make the transmission of certain diseases difficult but not impossible.

Generally speaking, conditions, illnesses and ailments specific to a fiction will not affect Crossrunners. Fictive/Real relations rarely produce viable offspring. Crossrunners are also varyingly resistant or even outright immune to magic (notably, this has some correlation with the religiosity and spirituality of an individual Crossrunner). However, once crossed, this integrity of this "barrier" becomes notably lesser. Crossrunners who come away from worlds with powers are more likely to be stricken with fictive illnesses and conditions. However, they are also more likely to gain further powers.