Book/THE RUBRIC

THE RUBRIC is a magically enchanted book detailing the last will and testament of the Four Sisters of Jade, as spoken by the coven's leader, Marie Ortotho.

It serves as a memorial, a suicide note, and a historical record, as it details the curse placed upon Nol's Hill that eventually led to its downfall. It currently resides in Azalea's library for safekeeping.

Text
''[The book itself is entirely blank; instead of words, a voice is heard as you turn to and view each page. It is ragged, creaking, and filled with grieving hatred.]'' - …I can still hear them knocking against the sanctum's wards.

I know not what or whom granted them the ability to subdue our magicks, but at this point, it matters not. I have sealed this place eight times over. I only hope that it grants me enough time to act.

The peoples of Nol's Hill have broken the truce. It was as Sister Kindchild saw.

They came over the river with flame in their hands and malice in their hearts, from the direction of the lake. I know not what happened to the Marshland Witch.

I can only assume with great sorrow that she was put to the pyre first.

Now, they have come for us.

Our homes lie in ruins, struck down by infernal ballistas. Our possessions stand as loot in the grasp of unworthy hands. Our very memories have been cast into the uncaring fire.

They seek to erase us entirely.

I will see to it that they fail.

After all…there are to be four. No less, no more. And even now, we are still four.

I stand here at the altar with the bodies of my dear sisters, and I beseech the Fourth Layer with all that I have left.

Grant me the fortitude to Speak my final Words. My belief is unwavering. My intentions are clear.

And I have prepared the altar.

The Pattern listens, and grants me an audience.

…

The first Word shall be a Word of Sequestering.

I dedicate this Word to Sister Morelli; bender of space and lifter of spirits, trapped within confines you could not escape. With this, you shall be free once more. My Voice speaks of where she went.

May our sanctum be sealed away from the world; not within Clamor, not within the Nether, not within the End. May it exist nowhere, outside of both time and space, to be found by nobody.

May its contents and its memories be protected in perpetuity, within this state of Limbo, so that the betrayers shall not have the opportunity to erase what we have done.

…I will remember you fondly, Sister Morelli.

…

The second Word shall be a Word of Preservation.

I dedicate this Word to Sister Newmaker; friend to the jungle, listener of its woes. Deafened by those who cannot hear its cries. With this, you shall join the Pattern you loved, and shall be loved in return.

My Voice speaks of what she heard.

May the jungle suffer not from the mistakes of our betrayers. May its trees stand strong, its heart still beat, and its voice be heard by any who will listen.

May arcana flow freely here, unhindered by any who may seek to restrict it. May its gifts be granted freely to those with respect in their hearts, and be withheld from any who lack.

…I will miss you, Sister Newmaker.

…

The third Word shall be a Word of Returning.

I dedicate this Word to Sister Kindchild; seer, dreamer, and a gift to us all, blinded by those with no vision themselves. With this, you shall dream forevermore.

My Voice speaks of what she saw.

May our memories not die with our bodies. May we wait alongside our sanctum, within perpetuity, until the time comes where the waters flow and the flowers bloom once more.

May we, the Four Sisters of Jade, be remembered by the Fourth Layer and by the Pattern that we recognize. May our voices not go unheard, and may our imprints remain upon the land.

May our sanctum return when the time is right, and may it stand as a testament that carries us into future days.

…Sleep well, Sister Kindchild.

…

The fourth and final Word…shall be from me. Me, to those who have betrayed my trust. Me, to those who have murdered my sisters. Me, who will show them what becomes of those who cross a witch. This shall be a Word of Anathema.

My Voice speaks death.

From this day onwards, I curse Nol's Hill.

May your people be trapped within this Rubric, as you trapped Sister Morelli within yours. May your people become unheard by your gods, as you deafened Sister Newmaker to the cries of our jungle.

May your people be robbed of inspiration, as you robbed Sister Kindchild of hers.

And, for you, may not even death be an escape; may your dead return to suffer your failures anew, bound by my final Word.

…

Now then. I, Marie Ortotho, Sister of Jade, beseech the Fourth Layer of Our Design to claim my fallen sisters. I beseech it to claim me, as the completion of this Rubric shall annihilate me bodily and spiritually. This I know.

I can feel overwhelming arcana welling within me.

But I care not. May my sacrifice not be in vain. May my Voice speak truth.

And may my Words repeat until there are none left to hear them.

So it is done.