It comes tied to the legs of reanimated doves, glassy-eyed, their corpses dressed to try and maintain some faux-semblance of purity. It comes through the subtle word of the faithful, those nonmagi who have fallen for the Prophet's words of paradise and peace and a world without death nor tragedy. It comes, a missive sent from whatever hole the newly-raised Tal has hidden herself in, radiating out throughout the lands of Meranthe. However it comes, it arrives-- and with it, revelations.

Quote:It was a valiant and noble attempt. None can scorn you for your efforts! I am driven to tears, to even think of how spirited your designs were. Unfortunately: You made a single error.

I am not fated to die. I am destined for greater things. It is by divine hand that my liberty was assured from the clutches of your betrayal, that I may yet continue my path. For what other explanation could there possibly be? What other reason could sit behind the survival of not just I, but my disciples?

Grey, though you have offered me deceit and betrayal, I forgive you. Though you invited me unto your house and offered to me poison and deceit, I forgive you. Though you orchestrated an attempt on my life alongside Goldlight and Gloomlight both, I forgive you. Though you have scorned me and mine, declared me your enemy, I forgive you.

My disciples may not. I recommend you find a place to sit and rest, alongside your lady love, and simply wait out the salvation I shall bring. I cannot stop them from seeking to avenge me. Such would be an insult to the freedom I seek to offer those I save.

If you do not, don't worry. I will save you, too, should they seek to enact some measure of justice.

Loramelian, Lazarus, Erebus, Rio, Marfons and the several others in attendance-- regret not that you failed to capture us. You never could have. The Morninglord, in his wisdom and glory, has plans for me. He could never have let me and mine die, not even in a situation so tremendously perilous. Do not you see that you rail against destiny itself? That despite your best efforts, I have yet slipped through your net? I cannot be caught. I cannot be killed. Not while I yet have purpose on this world! Not while I yet have lives to save!

You may try again, as many times as you like. Until I am done, I shall not be allowed to fall. Though my soul would but find a new vessel, and my path would merely be delayed, this vessel still yet has purpose and spirit both. So sayeth the Morninglord, peace be upon him, may his wings turn white and may he lead us all to paradise.

Mortem Azrael. Unto Eternity.

Whatever these... generously, 'ramblings' are, the woman who put them to paper seems quite eager to see them all distributed at large.

At best? Free scrap paper. At worst? Evidence that the delusions of the woman who has proclaimed herself Prophet have only gotten worse in the wake of a failed attempt at arrest, despite all odds being stacked against her and hers. Tenacity and luck, she, blinded by faith and zealotry, interprets as divine intervention. A dangerous thing, for someone wielding such a dark and profane art to see in their survival validation of their sins...