Cvin 2.

Of the scholars of old, Ѫʑɟɕεɟ, of the line of ΦॡʑθѮ, was the wisest. अपॢѦɟ thirsted for their secrets, and did observe heavily their methods of study. For many days upon end, अपॢѦɟ followed Ѫʑɟɕεɟ to their place of meditation every single evening, a wooden temple atop a mountainside waterfall. Every single night, Ѫʑɟɕεɟ would step out from the temple onto a deck before the waterfall, lighting a vast array of multicolored candles, before sitting in the third way in the midst of them, silently thinking.

अपॢѦɟ simply could not fathom what Ѫʑɟɕεɟ was thinking of nightly. Yet, night after night, they noticed a very peculiar pattern, to say the least. Prior to every single meditation session, Ѫʑɟɕεɟ would move the candles into circles carved into the plank floor around them, igniting them from shortest to tallest every single time. अपॢѦɟ excused themselves from following the scholar for a fortnight, searching through every arcane library of the world of Carin to further understand the mysterious nightly ritual.

Not even the vast libraries of ΦॡʑθѮ Ѧअʑॡ proved satisfactory for अपॢѦɟ's search. Soon enough, they faltered, finding no more records of scholars to search. अपॢѦɟ was left with one decision. They warily entered the halls of the king of ΦॡʑθѮ, Carin.

The king, widely known as righteous and pious, did not initially take to अपॢѦɟ. However, upon explanation of the situation, they immediately ordered अपॢѦɟ to follow them, and rushed into the royal library, passed down from ancestor to child in the ruling family.

A dusty text from an ancient king described the very same process Ѫʑɟɕεɟ was undertaking nightly. It explained in full that it was but a farce to ward away the curious. According to the text, Ѫʑɟɕεɟ was entering a hidden dimension to converse with and serve a demon of old, one whom desired greatly to destroy every last harvest of the people of the interstellar Carinian empire, for it feasted upon famine.

The king and अपॢѦɟ both panicked wholly, and embarked to the mountaintop temple of Ѫʑɟɕεɟ with a battalion of palace guards armed with the good light. Shattering the doors of the humble abode, the host of armed Carinians approached Ѫʑɟɕεɟ, sitting in the third way within their circle of burning candles. Ѫʑɟɕεɟ's eyes opened as the king roared accusations at them.

"You have betrayed my trust, scholar! You serve a great evil, and seek to rule over all with control of our sustenance!"

Ѫʑɟɕεɟ then did laugh at the king and their armed host heartily. They had not heard of such an absurd claim for quite some time. Ѫʑɟɕεɟ knew demons were not real, and that any analogue thereof would be a true extremist conqueror of the self, and not some extraterrestrial force.

"My dear friend, demons and great evils do not exist! You seek to find a single solution for the web of issues that is society. One that you can combat directly."

Both the king and अपॢѦɟ were astounded by this decisive and mirthful statement. अपॢѦɟ was skeptical, and questioned Ѫʑɟɕεɟ.

"Why then, pray tell, have you surrounded yourself in these candles in the precise formation described in the harvest-ritual?"

Ѫʑɟɕεɟ rolled their eyes.

"They exude a pleasant scent, you fucking imbecile."