Time itself was unraveling.  The end was coming.

 

However, all cannot be lost. The whole of knowledge must somehow be saved—protected from the return (to nothing). And this task falls upon the Cleric.  For he has always known that this moment would come; why he has always been the harbinger of fate, the omen of destiny.

 

As foretold, and personally experienced during his bout in the same abyss, the message can be sent from within the chasm of the Void.  The same Void once traveled by Vespa, the Naught, as well as the Cleric himself.  Now he will cross the threshold into the Void one last time, to perform this function of ensuring that all will not be forgot (or lost).

 

Within the void the past seems as present as the now, with every following instant being shared with before.  In this realm, thoughts are all at once, immediate, yet memory—timeless meaning (concepts, yet without form).  Upon entering, the Cleric began to reveal everything that had been, yet to be.  He was now forming the shaping of ideas, but in dreams; he unseen, could make believe.

 

Time moves upon guided paths, lineages of destiny and of blood.  Since the Void has had a taste of the essences of Vespa, the Naught, and the Cleric, it was only natural (as if fate) that the thoughts of the Cleric would be sent back (as if guided) thousands of years to the ancestor of their bloodline, to the forgone predecessor of Raven herself.  And the name of this recipient—this newly appointed oracle; Meris.

 

She wondered if this is true.  Her dream was so real. Meris witnessed a vision; did she not? A future seeming as present as the now.  Then she sensed more, yet another bond. She thought to herself, ‘I am to be, the tie. The Bloodline’.

 

Sitting up in her bed, seeming as if she had just experienced a lifetime of memories, she immediately knew the importance of her vision—of the legacy in which she was now entrusted.  For this story, this tome of knowledge, must be carried forth by her descendants, generation after generation, as lore over thousands of years to finally be delivered to Raven.

 

And this is when the realization looms.  For when Raven shares the message with Mephis (the Cleric), the loop will have been cast, the tale that coils and spirals across time—again & again—as if the manifestation of a recurring dream.

 

And herein lies what has come to be known as, The secret of the Toci.  The knowledge of what has and is yet to be.

At that very moment, with a passion as fierce as a hundred burning suns, upon the expanse of thousands of years, from the infinite depths of her soul, Meris swore these words:

 

I vow to become

Champion of the tale.

I, the mother of all.

I, the first and the last.

Heart of what is to pass.

The bearer of the omen.

And usher of the end.

 

I am the reveal.

 

Most of all,

These both are true...

 

My name is Meris and none of this is real.

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