[These writings are attributed to the great historian of Hestelle Cathos, though it is uncertain when she wrote them, nor whether she remains alive today. Only fragments remain, but they shed light into the worlds of our Pillar.]

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— Entry #33 —

After these last rounds of study and research in the Great Sky, surveying the tribes and their ways, I returned to the Earth (as the dwellers of Subterra call it), that misnomered crucible of the Royals. Only after flying to and fro across the sky, filling my transcrolls with lore and customs of the tribes, have I thought to return thus, and only to the first stratum. I have a bit more to journal during my stay. The denizens of the subterran sky know scant of their entire domain, and frighteningly little of the Earth. It is mythic to them, unknown and unknowable. Their watcher, realm of the greater beings who visit only on rare occasion.

And how very rare those occasions are.

I currently rest in one of the bottom-level labyrinths, one I cannot name off the top of my head. Such labyrinths, I have discovered, are quite reminiscent of the dwellings of the people collectively known as the Bat Tribe. For some reason, the Lords Above allowed them to keep it after they found it centuries back (their home city was around when I was here previously).

Stolen novel; please report.

I went from lesser to greater knowledge, as is the pattern of the true scholar, and I particularly understand more about these so-called "Magnates" who have recently been assigned by the Lords Above to Subterra's tribes. Largely new victors who have braved the gauntlets of the Earth and know too little of the ways of above to avoid enslavement. That is, after all, a large part of the purpose of the gauntlets—to make body and mind pliable, hardening the former where needed and softening the latter just enough to acclimate them while keeping them ignorant. When I was previously here, the winged men had been ruled by harsh warlords and emperors who worked directly for the Harbingers and Taiyoths, believing them gods. The sky world was more primal then, far less ordered, and inflamed with turmoil, yet I perceive that the Magnates ushered in an era of complacency and ignorance that seems nearly . . . contrary to reason. Where shall this overshadowed world go from here?

We shall see in another millennium. Forgive the ramblings of an old woman.

The Veil still calls to me in my weekly sleep. I may yet harken and venture beyond the sky-sun . . . I know that I shall find no change from the last time, but a distant voice tells me that the boundaries are shifting again. That my journey outward might be rewarded by a glimpse of the very fabric of the Pillar. Perhaps. Regardless, I near the point when I shall move on, but whether I shall head upward or continue downward . . . I cannot say. I have been but one world below, and only in passing. The depths are terrifying to traverse in the best of conditions, and so little is known of the lower worlds. The ways through the earthen layers are tiresome, and my overseers will not miss me in this next reporting.

When next I write, I will have decided.