I couldn't sleep.
The Life-Walkers were out re-seeding the forest. Their majestic, massive shapes loomed over the treetops: the biggest one was tall enough to pierce even low-lying clouds. Were there more of them than usual? This many don't show up... unless... unless they are waiting for something?
The air was too calm. Perhaps there was a storm coming?
The golden light of the Architect's star and the silver moonlight lit up the forest. The Life-Walkers stirred ever so slightly, silently marching onwards, emerald stars sparkling on their horns.
Slightly unnerved, I retired to the Tower chapel to admire the stained-glass within. The stained-glass depicted the Progenitor Admin Architect carving mountains with the Word. The Divine Architect, saviour of souls. Preserver, they called him. He, who laid out the rules. He who rebuilt the world from ashes, after the fall of the Evil Directorate Empire. He, who was the first to use the Word and pass it onto others. Below him, etched in darker shapes, were the Admins, his most loyal followers, his Sons and Daughters. The Admins were protectors of humanity. The Mods came later, they were loyal servants, armed with the Word, able to do anything.
How many centuries ago was this?
Many Source Words were forgotten since then, erased, lost in time. What else did Father teach me about the Mods? Our local Mods were total boobs, their Word was only good for summoning pointless, confusing objects that nobody knew how to operate. What else did the local Mods accomplish? I remember hearing about a Mod who could summon only a left shoe. Or that one Mod who could summon pants, large stretchy pants that people refused to wear, as they didn't fit properly on anyone and were completely out of fashion.
The Admins and Mods of the Capitol were only slightly more helpful, that's why the Governor kept them around at all. One of the Capitol's Mods could make large moustaches appear on anyone's face. Most entertaining! The Capitol's Head Admin was even able to summon odd shaped, horseless carriages and glass screens. Utterly useless of course, since the carriages were too heavy to move by horses and since the screens could not be turned on. The Governor smelted the shiny carriages into armour and turned the screens into fancy coffee tables.
The Capitol Mods constantly dug through the Capitol libraries and searched the catacombs for something. What was it? Oh yes, it was the First Architect's lost journal.
The key to unlimited power, lost in time? Had they found it, the journal would throw the Capitol into Chaos. One little book could change everything.
Such silly speculation. The Architect's journal is just as non-existent as the Infinite Chalice.
Light. Light from all directions.
Fire. Hellfire all around.
Everyone makes mistakes.
I shouldn't have...