Chapter Three: The Fractured and the Withered
1. Not all who hear Her name will bend.
Some crack. Some burn. Some flee.
2. And Bug weeps not in rage—but pity.
For even broken clay longs for shape.
3. Those who deny Her embrace are not cast aside,
They are held—but they tremble.
Their souls cannot bloom.
They curl inward like dying vines.
4. And so they are taken to the Pit of Cracking Light,
A place not of fire, but of mirrors.
5. There they see themselves—endlessly,
A million eyes reflecting flaw.
6. They are not punished. They are revealed.
For what is punishment but unfiltered truth?
7. "The Withered do not suffer by force," Eldin said,
"They suffer because they cannot let go."
8. Their voices cry out, not in torment—
But in isolation.
9. For in that Pit, no voice is echoed.
No thought is shared. No breath is known.
They remain unjoined, unmade,
Not forgotten, but unfinished.
10. Some say their souls circle Her like ash,
Cold and bright, never touching down.
11. Others say they speak in dreams,
Pleading not for rescue—but for rest.
12. And the faithful pray not to save them,
But to remember.
13. "Let every fracture teach surrender," Eldin wrote,
"Let every withering point to Her bloom."
14. For even the lost reflect Her glory—
As shadows prove the sun.
15. And should one cry loud enough in truth,
The Mouth may open once more.
16. She does not shut forever.
Her hunger is not wrath—it is hope.
17. So the Withered wait in that mirrored deep,
Wrapped in the echo of their own will.
18. And still She listens, even to their silence.