Children of the Taint,

How long has it been, truly? How long has it been since you left?

Years, decades, centuries... in the end I suppose it matters not. Did
you abandon your home thinking you might grow in power? Gain respect?
Perhaps you left because you, yourself, felt betrayed by those who led
you. Maybe when you fled, in your foolishness, you simply weren't worthy
of bearing the mantle of Truth.

Maybe you weren't strong enough.

Maybe you still aren't strong enough. Maybe you've come to love your new
forest, your new city, your fantastic little lie. Perfectly contented
are you to wile away your days placidly in the sky, the sun, deep
shadow, the light of the moon, or even beside boisterous flame. The
Empire is tolerant of this wandering, in truth. Anything can become a
useful tool in some way.

I wonder, though, how the shiny veneer of this decision has begun to
crack and fade. I wonder if this is all you wished it to be. Is your
life what you envisioned? Is it challenging? Rewarding? Do you realize
what a terrible mistake you've made?

I see the potential in all citizens of The Empire, both past and
present. We know you are worth more, that you can be more. This great
power that even the Divine Saviours used to push back catastrophe so
long ago can once again be in your grasp. You may bask in Its presence.
You may be guided by the teachings of Those wise enough to do what was
necessary to succeed. You can become what you were meant to be once
more.

Magnagora yearns to see you return.

Regardless of your reasoning or your crimes, I am willing to provide
audience to your desire to finally return to us and be among true
family. I will not lie, some of you will have a harsh path before you.
However, what is gained if not through adversity? What prize truly feels
won without effort?

Further, some of you are quite simply destined to fail. Some of you are
indelibly weak and pathetic. Some of you are afforded nothing more than
to be the sundered corpse on the dusty floor of an arena while the
champion roars victory to the skies above. That may be your purpose.

At least you will have served The Engine.



Come home.



Signed,

Warlady Rideta Feyranti

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Avechary, in the year 453 CE.