Lore:Nothing Ends: Difference between revisions

'''Nothing Ends''' is a [[Lore]] book introduced in ''[[Penumbra]]''. It is a series of correspondences from [[Shin Malphur]] to [[the Guardian|The Guardian]], meditating on the path into [[Darkness]] taken by [[Dredgen Yor]] and the path the Guardian is taking into [[Light]]. Entries are earned by completing steps in the [[Lumina]] [[Exotic]] quest.

Rezyl sought to vanquish terrors. Yor fertilized the wilds with suffering and despair that a new hope would grow. I was that hope. My fire showed that whispers could be hushed. To many the legend, and the lesson, ends there. They're wrong. Dangerously so. Yor's true lesson—and by extension Rezyl's—wasn't that strength beats strength. His lesson was far more subtle, and infinitely more grand. Adversity leads to evolution. Forces it. And through that crucible we are remade. Better. Stronger. More than we were.

I've held this jagged weapon since that faithful day on [[Dwindler's Ridge]]. Kept it hidden away. Kept its secrets, kept its nightmares locked away where none could hear—none could be tempted. It's quiet now, except a low murmur, but its sickness remains. There were countless times I thought to destroy it—remove its threat from the playing field. But I knew it held a greater purpose, and I believe that purpose can be found and fulfilled in your hands.

Elegy for [[Callum Sol]]

Callum: I have tossed aside all I once held dear and returned to the purity of self. We do not need titles torn from dead fables. We are, and have always been, who we are. Hated. Feared. Lost. Broken. Dredgen Yor did not make us. Orsa and his fools would have us believe we walk in the footsteps of truest, pure sorrow. I say my sorrow equals that of Yor. I say it transcends. I say we are the future, and the future does not wait for failures resting as ash in a field on some lonely, forgotten ridge. [[Lore:The Book of Unmaking|The Book]] says we must be unmade, not remade, not evolved, not improved. Unmade. To achieve such glories, we must start with ourselves. We must look into the abyss, naked and unafraid of its judgment against our many human weaknesses. But Orsa knows this. As did Bane and the others. They fear true judgment. They would hide behind their interpretations of Yor's ancient texts. Seeking understanding as a means to delay what must be done. No more gambits. No more posturing. No more running from a lone man with a [[Golden Gun]]. Malphur is not a worthy foe; he is an excuse. No longer. From this moment on, we—those few brave enough to heed my words—will walk a straight line toward the abyss. We will end all who would change our course.

Vale: It is time.

Vale: I will, brother. RTL.

Rose was never any more special than any other weapon of its time. It didn't fire faster or hit harder. Its power came from the hands that held it. Azzir was a gifted destroyer, a rare and mighty defender. And much like far older legends, his deeds and manner, his weapons and journeys have taken on lives of their own. So too, in time, will yours. I don't know that he ever reflected on his legacy. Truth told, I'd imagine he never considered his own death until after becoming the other—until after becoming Yor. I often wonder if he was aware of the monster he began, or whether even in that twisted, dark, nightmarish form, he still saw himself as the noble warrior—the defending knight giving all of himself to protect his crumbling castle. It's possible Vincent knows, though I would never ask him. There is still a soft spot there, a pained longing for the friend he'd lost.

Your consistent heroism and ability to adapt your skills and aggression to face ever-evolving trials prove you worthy of my confidence. This is why I shared my truths with you—my journey, the Shadows, our purpose, our sins. When you sought [[Thorn]], the hated yin to the Word's noble yang, I knew you were headed in a fateful direction that would see me and mine as nothing more than afterthoughts in the wars to come. That I may have served as a catalyst for even a sliver of your continued growth is an honor. All of my faith says you will be a linchpin in the building of a new world, one where absolutes cower to the might of compromise, where Light tempers dark and the dark opens new insight into the Light's many undiscovered gifts.

Good luck, Guardian. Hero. Friend. The true Shadows are no more—only myself, Grey, [[Zana Maas|Maas]], [[Jonah Pavic|Pavic]] and [[Braga Yasuul|Yasuul]] remain, and we take our leave of these wars. The rest—those guided by ignorance and fear—have been gunned down, and with your help, the hated name Dredgen has been reclaimed, worn now by heroes.

And that is the all of it. A journey from nowhere to here, from my life to yours. It all started with Yor, but now the journey is yours. I never told anyone this, not even Teben, but the first whisper I heard was not aboard Yor's ship where we found his writings. Nor was it when we followed his path and resurrected our own diseased replicas of Thorn. The first whisper was on the Ridge, standing over his body. Just before I released the final two sun-baked charges into his limp, motionless body, there was a faint calling—wicked words in a hateful tongue. I've lived with those words every day and every night since. They were simple. They were quiet. And they were this...