Title: "The Pale Mother"
Holotape Data: Log 1
Date: [ 7/13 ]
Location: [jed's mirelurk farm]
Stupid fucking crone.
Stupid fucking rules.
If Doreah doesn't hurry up and get into the pale light of the Mother's embrace, I'm quitting. I'm burning this whole fucking place down. Nearly a hundred-and-seven and still telling us what to do. The audacity to not die already when the Pale Mother has stripped away both sight and smell. What's next? Death or deafness?
What's the point of becoming a Mother if the Dowagers are the ones pulling the strings? What was all that training for? To turn us into good little rule-abiding girls so we'll tell the Children of the Fen what they want done? Fuck that. I gave my vows to the Pale Mother, not to that puce-faced bitch.
But still, I'm making headway. Jed's farm is on the edge of the Expanse. After I leave, I'll be out in the black.
If I can make it to the Babel, maybe I can prove the Mother's Plight.
My eye hurts and my boots are soggy, but Old Jed did give me two big servings of mirelurk stew and even a bunch of dried jerky for the trip onwards. If I die out here, at least it won't be from hunger.
Holotape Data: Log 2
Date: [ 7/15 ]
Location: [the expanse]
That old coot tried to kill me! Not two hours past that farm and my raft was swarming with bloodbugs and leeches the size of two-headed Bessie back home! I can't believe it. That motherfucker could have warned me that fire dilutes the scent of food! Dilutes the scent of you.
I've been burning and paddling ever since. He's lucky. Pull that on anyone else and they'd be dead.
What's worse is I'm hungry.
Most of Jed's jerky ended up in the water the day I paddled out and if it wasn't fish food, it was ash from the flames that burned away those bugs. I'm still so pissed about that. What the hell was he thinking, ladening me down with all that food and not giving me some kind of warning?
Bah. Dumb old man.
Holotape Data: Log 3
Date: [ 7/17 ]
Location: [the expanse]
Mother save me I am so fucking bored. I don't want to record too many of these and get repetitive, but damn, it's nice to hear something, even if it's the sound of my own voice. It's weird, you know, there's wildlife everywhere. I can see them, hear them, smell them, but sometimes, even in the dead of night, everything'll go silent. Even the fucking bugs! It's creepy because that silence will last for hours.
At first I thought it was a snapjaw hunting me, but there's no hissing or bellowing to let me know I'm getting too close. Maybe it just gets quiet up here. Maybe all that paddling was worth it-- Jed did say the heart of the swamp wasn't but a week out. Guess I'm closer than I think.
I hope so.
Holotape Data: Log 4
Date: [ 7/18 ]
Location: [the expanse]
. . . . . . . . .
It's beautiful here. Oh, ow--ouch. Beautiful, but deadly, I think.
It's like a glade. Or a moor, maybe. The ground's soft but walkable and almost every square inch is rooted with thick blue veins and sprouting the tender and slim tartary petals. It's crazy looking! It's a tartary plant, obviously, but… it's not like any of the ones we grow back home. The leaves and petals are so vibrant and the largest seed has got to be as big around as my thigh.
Wow-- I just.
Praise the Pale Mother.
The petals are giving off some kind of… mist? No, well, yeah, kind of-- it's cold to the touch but maybe "spore" is the right word, cause it's not really wet.
It's so fragrant too.
I think I'll take a flower back with me and show it to the others.
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 5
Date: [ 7/20 ]
Location: [the expanse]
There's not much out here. Bunch of trees. Bunch of water between them. Just like home. Little islands barely afloat, top heavy with draping foliage. They bloom under the Pale Mother's moon. It's kind of pretty, actually, in it's own little way, I found tha—
. . . . . . . . .
There's a bunch of wildlife out here too. Caught a deerjack this morning, so at least I'm not hungry, but I can see eyes following me day and night. Following the fire and waiting for it to go out.
Decided the other night to make a little room on the back of the raft. Doesn't rain everyday here, but it does rain longer and harder and burns right through my robes. So I put a little roof and some stick walls plugged with moss and palm thatch. Isn't much, but it's better than burning.
The bloodbugs are the worst though, stirring up trouble—
What the fuck— Why's the raft moving like tha—
Holotape Data: Log 6
Date: [ 7/23 ]
Location: [just outside fort leftbend]
She told me her name was Bathsheba, the woman who overturned my raft.
Made it right by sheltering me for the night. Fed me too. I appreciated that. The whole thing was weird though. She didn't seem at all surprised to find me in her tin bath out back with water hot to the touch. Even if she didn't leave me anything to burn and I know I didn't make a flame when the raft was overturned, so I-- Eugh.
I don't know.
If anything, the old woman seemed happy about it. Honestly, so was I though. A nice hot bath was just what I needed. This blue flower can't be the only thing I return home with.
She called the place Fort Leftbend, by the way. It was just a house though, her house, in the middle of a random clearing out here in the Expanse. No bends or other forts to speak of. She asked me not to record anything until I left the grounds too… Which spooked me a bit, I won't lie. Guess she heard me talking to it before she capsized me. And even that was weird! I have no idea how she managed to pull that off.
Well, I have a theory-- kind of.
I think she's like me.
. . . . . . . . .
You know how many Children of the Fen are kissed by the Pale Mother and granted a share of her power? Those gifts primarily bless the individual in some manner; be it strength or intelligence or speed, or even folks like Arcadey whose eyes pierce through flesh and blood and bone to pinpoint injuries. But for some, a rare few-- their gifts affect the world around them. Other people and other things. Me, though?
The Pale Mother's Kiss gave me the ability to realize her almighty flames into this reality.
Maybe the Pale Mother gave her something… similar. All I know is she gave that woman something.
I could feel it. Sense it. I can't stop dreaming of her either. Every time I close my eyes I see her… and Mother Mora. The priestess that raised me and probably the creepiest and loneliest woman ever. It's weird too, Mora's the reason I worked so hard to become a Mother-- why I believed in them so strongly. Bathsheba gave off the same kind of reverence in a way, even if she did scoff and laugh when I introduced myself as a Micco Priestess.
Mother save me. She was a fine host, but my arm hair's still on edge. Bah.
Holotape Data: Log 7
Date: [ 7/29 ]
Location: [the expanse]
. . . . . . . . .
,uoy evig i stfig eht yned uoy
,yhtrow flah ylno era ohw wef tceles a ot rewop ym timil
!em esaeppa ton od taht sniag rof rewop ym esu dna
,UOY EVIG I STFIG EHT YNED UOY
,YHTROW FLAH YLNO ERA OHW WEF TCELES A OT REWOP YM TIMIL
!EM ESAEPPA TON OD TAHT SNIAG ROF REWOP YM ESU DNA
I-I can't! I don't know what you're saying!
YOU DENY THE GIFTS I GIVE YOU, LIMIT THE POWER TO A SELECT FEW WHO ARE ONLY HALF WORTHY, AND USE MY POWER FOR GAINS THAT DO NOT APPEASE ME!
MY CHILDREN NO LONGER PLEASE ME!
I'm s-sorry, I'll tell them. I'll cha--
NO. YOU WILL GO. PREPARE. WAIT FOR MY CALL.
I-- what? Leave the haven or the Fen? I-I can--
THE FEN AND MY BLESSING WILL REMAIN WITH YOU. GO NOW.
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 8
Date: [ 7/11 ]
Location: [micco haven]
I'm so hungry. It's all I can think about for some reason. I wish that mirelurk jerky had lasted a bit longer. Maybe I should have asked Jed for more stew after all.
Only one of the power-cells worked when I tried turning the holotape recorder on, so I guess the documentation will come to an end here soon. Wish I had gotten more than just a little blue flower.
My eye hurts something fierce, too. The fumes from that moor must've burned them.
I--
. . . . . . . . .
"Hello? Who—"
. . . . . . . . .
"Mearle? Mearle is that you? . . . Sisters, please! Stop whispering and go fetch Healer Arcadey!"
. . . . . . . . .
"Mearle? Hey, yeah, hey there Mearle, it's me-- Imela-- do you… Hey-- Are you okay?"
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 9
Date: [ 7/11 ]
Location: [outside the micco haven]
They say it's been a year.
An entire fucking year since I left for the Mother's Babel.
I don't remember passing back through Jed's mirelurk farm or the ever-expanding acreage of tartary that encircles the micco haven. I don't remember much, honestly. I don't even remember half of what's on here, but I damn well don't remember a whole fucking year passing. It was only a few days. I only have a few of these memories. If what they say is true, I'm missing an entire year's worth of memories. An entire year!
I don't believe it. I-I can't.
. . . . . . . . .
I-I don't know. Maybe it's true though. When I bathed off all that muck, there was a silver streak left behind that wasn't there before. That's when I noticed my eye— and that kind of degradation couldn't have happened in a few days. It just couldn't have. Before I left, Sister Arcadey said I'd have another year or two before it'd get that bad. Before it got this bad. Before I stopped being able to see out of it.
Maybe the fumes from that moor exacerbated it. Maybe it had been an entire year. Either way, it didn't really matter much when I plucked it out and lit it aflame. Hurt like hell, honestly, but Arcadey fixed me up quick. Disappointed Doreah fled at the lick of flame-- dusty ass bitch would have lit up right then and there too.
Oh well, I guess. Their banishment came moments after my declaration to leave. What's done is done.
I have a new life outside of the Fen to begin-- one with a new vow.
Not as a mother, sister, or dowager, but a Child of the Fen.
. . . . . . . . .
Anyways, I don't think anyone will ever hear this, but if you do, pray for the Mother's.
Pray for the Micco.
For the Pale Mother is not pleased.
Holotape Data: Log 1
Date: [ 7/13 ]
Location: [jed's mirelurk farm]
Stupid fucking crone.
Stupid fucking rules.
If Doreah doesn't hurry up and get into the pale light of the Mother's embrace, I'm quitting. I'm burning this whole fucking place down. Nearly a hundred-and-seven and still telling us what to do. The audacity to not die already when the Pale Mother has stripped away both sight and smell. What's next? Death or deafness?
What's the point of becoming a Mother if the Dowagers are the ones pulling the strings? What was all that training for? To turn us into good little rule-abiding girls so we'll tell the Children of the Fen what they want done? Fuck that. I gave my vows to the Pale Mother, not to that puce-faced bitch.
But still, I'm making headway. Jed's farm is on the edge of the Expanse. After I leave, I'll be out in the black.
If I can make it to the Babel, maybe I can prove the Mother's Plight.
My eye hurts and my boots are soggy, but Old Jed did give me two big servings of mirelurk stew and even a bunch of dried jerky for the trip onwards. If I die out here, at least it won't be from hunger.
Holotape Data: Log 2
Date: [ 7/15 ]
Location: [the expanse]
That old coot tried to kill me! Not two hours past that farm and my raft was swarming with bloodbugs and leeches the size of two-headed Bessie back home! I can't believe it. That motherfucker could have warned me that fire dilutes the scent of food! Dilutes the scent of you.
I've been burning and paddling ever since. He's lucky. Pull that on anyone else and they'd be dead.
What's worse is I'm hungry.
Most of Jed's jerky ended up in the water the day I paddled out and if it wasn't fish food, it was ash from the flames that burned away those bugs. I'm still so pissed about that. What the hell was he thinking, ladening me down with all that food and not giving me some kind of warning?
Bah. Dumb old man.
Holotape Data: Log 3
Date: [ 7/17 ]
Location: [the expanse]
Mother save me I am so fucking bored. I don't want to record too many of these and get repetitive, but damn, it's nice to hear something, even if it's the sound of my own voice. It's weird, you know, there's wildlife everywhere. I can see them, hear them, smell them, but sometimes, even in the dead of night, everything'll go silent. Even the fucking bugs! It's creepy because that silence will last for hours.
At first I thought it was a snapjaw hunting me, but there's no hissing or bellowing to let me know I'm getting too close. Maybe it just gets quiet up here. Maybe all that paddling was worth it-- Jed did say the heart of the swamp wasn't but a week out. Guess I'm closer than I think.
I hope so.
Holotape Data: Log 4
Date: [ 7/18 ]
Location: [the expanse]
. . . . . . . . .
It's beautiful here. Oh, ow--ouch. Beautiful, but deadly, I think.
It's like a glade. Or a moor, maybe. The ground's soft but walkable and almost every square inch is rooted with thick blue veins and sprouting the tender and slim tartary petals. It's crazy looking! It's a tartary plant, obviously, but… it's not like any of the ones we grow back home. The leaves and petals are so vibrant and the largest seed has got to be as big around as my thigh.
Wow-- I just.
Praise the Pale Mother.
The petals are giving off some kind of… mist? No, well, yeah, kind of-- it's cold to the touch but maybe "spore" is the right word, cause it's not really wet.
It's so fragrant too.
I think I'll take a flower back with me and show it to the others.
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 5
Date: [ 7/20 ]
Location: [the expanse]
There's not much out here. Bunch of trees. Bunch of water between them. Just like home. Little islands barely afloat, top heavy with draping foliage. They bloom under the Pale Mother's moon. It's kind of pretty, actually, in it's own little way, I found tha—
. . . . . . . . .
There's a bunch of wildlife out here too. Caught a deerjack this morning, so at least I'm not hungry, but I can see eyes following me day and night. Following the fire and waiting for it to go out.
Decided the other night to make a little room on the back of the raft. Doesn't rain everyday here, but it does rain longer and harder and burns right through my robes. So I put a little roof and some stick walls plugged with moss and palm thatch. Isn't much, but it's better than burning.
The bloodbugs are the worst though, stirring up trouble—
What the fuck— Why's the raft moving like tha—
Holotape Data: Log 6
Date: [ 7/23 ]
Location: [just outside fort leftbend]
She told me her name was Bathsheba, the woman who overturned my raft.
Made it right by sheltering me for the night. Fed me too. I appreciated that. The whole thing was weird though. She didn't seem at all surprised to find me in her tin bath out back with water hot to the touch. Even if she didn't leave me anything to burn and I know I didn't make a flame when the raft was overturned, so I-- Eugh.
I don't know.
If anything, the old woman seemed happy about it. Honestly, so was I though. A nice hot bath was just what I needed. This blue flower can't be the only thing I return home with.
She called the place Fort Leftbend, by the way. It was just a house though, her house, in the middle of a random clearing out here in the Expanse. No bends or other forts to speak of. She asked me not to record anything until I left the grounds too… Which spooked me a bit, I won't lie. Guess she heard me talking to it before she capsized me. And even that was weird! I have no idea how she managed to pull that off.
Well, I have a theory-- kind of.
I think she's like me.
. . . . . . . . .
You know how many Children of the Fen are kissed by the Pale Mother and granted a share of her power? Those gifts primarily bless the individual in some manner; be it strength or intelligence or speed, or even folks like Arcadey whose eyes pierce through flesh and blood and bone to pinpoint injuries. But for some, a rare few-- their gifts affect the world around them. Other people and other things. Me, though?
The Pale Mother's Kiss gave me the ability to realize her almighty flames into this reality.
Maybe the Pale Mother gave her something… similar. All I know is she gave that woman something.
I could feel it. Sense it. I can't stop dreaming of her either. Every time I close my eyes I see her… and Mother Mora. The priestess that raised me and probably the creepiest and loneliest woman ever. It's weird too, Mora's the reason I worked so hard to become a Mother-- why I believed in them so strongly. Bathsheba gave off the same kind of reverence in a way, even if she did scoff and laugh when I introduced myself as a Micco Priestess.
Mother save me. She was a fine host, but my arm hair's still on edge. Bah.
Holotape Data: Log 7
Date: [ 7/29 ]
Location: [the expanse]
. . . . . . . . .
,uoy evig i stfig eht yned uoy
,yhtrow flah ylno era ohw wef tceles a ot rewop ym timil
!em esaeppa ton od taht sniag rof rewop ym esu dna
,UOY EVIG I STFIG EHT YNED UOY
,YHTROW FLAH YLNO ERA OHW WEF TCELES A OT REWOP YM TIMIL
!EM ESAEPPA TON OD TAHT SNIAG ROF REWOP YM ESU DNA
I-I can't! I don't know what you're saying!
YOU DENY THE GIFTS I GIVE YOU, LIMIT THE POWER TO A SELECT FEW WHO ARE ONLY HALF WORTHY, AND USE MY POWER FOR GAINS THAT DO NOT APPEASE ME!
MY CHILDREN NO LONGER PLEASE ME!
I'm s-sorry, I'll tell them. I'll cha--
NO. YOU WILL GO. PREPARE. WAIT FOR MY CALL.
I-- what? Leave the haven or the Fen? I-I can--
THE FEN AND MY BLESSING WILL REMAIN WITH YOU. GO NOW.
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 8
Date: [ 7/11 ]
Location: [micco haven]
I'm so hungry. It's all I can think about for some reason. I wish that mirelurk jerky had lasted a bit longer. Maybe I should have asked Jed for more stew after all.
Only one of the power-cells worked when I tried turning the holotape recorder on, so I guess the documentation will come to an end here soon. Wish I had gotten more than just a little blue flower.
My eye hurts something fierce, too. The fumes from that moor must've burned them.
I--
. . . . . . . . .
"Hello? Who—"
. . . . . . . . .
"Mearle? Mearle is that you? . . . Sisters, please! Stop whispering and go fetch Healer Arcadey!"
. . . . . . . . .
"Mearle? Hey, yeah, hey there Mearle, it's me-- Imela-- do you… Hey-- Are you okay?"
. . . . . . . . .
Holotape Data: Log 9
Date: [ 7/11 ]
Location: [outside the micco haven]
They say it's been a year.
An entire fucking year since I left for the Mother's Babel.
I don't remember passing back through Jed's mirelurk farm or the ever-expanding acreage of tartary that encircles the micco haven. I don't remember much, honestly. I don't even remember half of what's on here, but I damn well don't remember a whole fucking year passing. It was only a few days. I only have a few of these memories. If what they say is true, I'm missing an entire year's worth of memories. An entire year!
I don't believe it. I-I can't.
. . . . . . . . .
I-I don't know. Maybe it's true though. When I bathed off all that muck, there was a silver streak left behind that wasn't there before. That's when I noticed my eye— and that kind of degradation couldn't have happened in a few days. It just couldn't have. Before I left, Sister Arcadey said I'd have another year or two before it'd get that bad. Before it got this bad. Before I stopped being able to see out of it.
Maybe the fumes from that moor exacerbated it. Maybe it had been an entire year. Either way, it didn't really matter much when I plucked it out and lit it aflame. Hurt like hell, honestly, but Arcadey fixed me up quick. Disappointed Doreah fled at the lick of flame-- dusty ass bitch would have lit up right then and there too.
Oh well, I guess. Their banishment came moments after my declaration to leave. What's done is done.
I have a new life outside of the Fen to begin-- one with a new vow.
Not as a mother, sister, or dowager, but a Child of the Fen.
. . . . . . . . .
Anyways, I don't think anyone will ever hear this, but if you do, pray for the Mother's.
Pray for the Micco.
For the Pale Mother is not pleased.
