Nial's Appendix

Hi. It’s me. Nial. I have been asked to say a few words on behalf of the Morl Nation. Let us start with the obvious: you can’t really trust what I say about, well, anything.

The entire latter portion of this book (this appendix included) was written inside Father Ori’s mind. I write on papers that are merely his dreamstuff. He transcribes my words onto real paper and can easily make edits prior to publication. Not to mention: the Emperor himself will be reviewing these words, along with battalions of ancient generals. No, you cannot fully trust anything I’ve said thus far. Nor can you fully trust anything I am about to say.

Yet, in spite of the aforementioned points, I believe my words have a chance of reaching you un-edited. This is because the Morl Nation wishes you to know the truth: It needs you. Furthermore, it is willing to negotiate. You see, the city of Salvation is a grand evolution in a Game that has been unfolding for thousands of years. For the first time in morl/human history, human society is truly safe from morl meddling, yet the morlish need for human assistance in agriculture has not decreased. Lacking their own magical gifts, the morls cannot automate agriculture, textiles, or construction: the pillars on which the prosperity of humanity has been built for so long. To obtain these pillars for themselves, the morls need you to open your gates and trade with them. They have become desperate enough to drop off a shipment of books at your borders in hopes of coaxing you into peaceful cooperation. Because of this, it is my belief that the morls have also become desperate enough to begin telling truths they have kept for thousands of years.

When I first ventured forth on my pilgrimage, I had never heard of the Gathering, nor had anyone but a select few, such as Asuana’s Order. So I suspect that you, Dear Citizen of Salvation, still know very little. For who could have told you? I sometimes wonder what stories you do tell yourself. Who do you think these enigmatic, shimmering, creatures are who drove your forefathers to migrate north to Salvation? What do you think the morl people want? Why do you think they attacked? Well, a historic moment has occurred in the two-thousand year dance between our species: the morls finally wish to answer such questions with truth, rather than resorting to subterfuge, secrets, and shimmers. This book is meant as a gift, to reveal as accurately as they can, the truth about the Game, and in a format that will (they hope), spread through Salvation like a contagion of sorts.

I admit, the fact that it falls to me to give you a missing part of your history is much more than I ever wished to purchase with those fifty gold pieces. But here I am, and one of the things I have been asked to impress upon you is that the morls have something you need too. For without them, what will happen when you die? I for one do not know. And neither do you. I know only what has happened to me and my fellow pilgrims: whether you end up in a heaven or a hell depends on the moral fabric of the one who Gathers you. I cannot, in good conscience, tell you to trust a morl who promises a heaven. But I can attest that Ori has changed much over the years and has treated us well. Lilly, Asuana, Gwen, Otto, and I have our privacy. The rest of his flock has been traded away. The part of Father Ori’s mind once called “the Pit” has been converted into a quiet forest village with three cottages, one for Asuana, one for Gwen and Otto, and one for Lilly and I. We couldn’t be happier. Although we’ve each left a few times, on various quests and adventures, we’ve always returned. It’s a hard after-life to beat.

I know you can’t trust me, but I shall state it anyway: For myself, Lilly, Asuana, Gwen, and Otto, it has been a happy ending. And Jonny? For a time, we were still able to communicate with him; he left the former South Sea Nations after spending a few years searching for the morl who had Gathered Lady Catherine. Last we heard, he was successful. The two of them were traveling north, through the mountains, as Lilly and I had once planned to do, exploring the mysteries that lay off the edge of the known map. The farther they traveled, however, the more faintly we felt him in our minds. One day, about a century ago, there was simply nothing. I like to think, though, that he too found his happy ending and perhaps is still out there somewhere.

The only question that remains, as I see it, is whether there shall be a happy ending for our species and for the morls. I have been asked to tell you that the Morl Nation is not a nation of demons, as you probably believe, but rather a society as deeply flawed as your own. Likewise, I have been asked to remind you that each individual morl is not necessarily a devil, nor an angel. Rather, each morl has a mind, like yours, and each mind is as deeply flawed as your own, and mine. Perhaps, telling you these things will help our species begin to “play” together again, in ways that are less dysfunctional. Perhaps one day, the trust between us will reach a point where 1) our race will accept their gift of eternal life, and 2) the morl race will have become virtuous enough that their gift is worth accepting.

Sincerely, Nial