The divination called to the far mountain range farther to the west. He saw a murky image: there, at the base of the mountain, would he find the last Temple that practiced the Way of Seeing. Unfortunately no one answered his call.

Msonus sighs to himself. "A lonely place, from which to see. Perhaps it is better to see emptiness clearly..." he  mutters. Picking himself up, he begins to hike further to the west, eyes streaming out before him. to guide his steps.

Soon the fairly lush grasslands were replaced by scraggier, drier scrubland, filled equally with stones and bush. It is very cold, here, and dark, but Msonus can see the black shadow of the mountains o the far west. Not far to go now.

There is the crying of something hideous in the night.

Msonus pulls a group of eyes into a ring about him, to give him a full circle of vision. He proceeds forwards, but slows his pace somewhat from before. Whatever was making noise, it did not seem civilized...  Suddenly he stops, and has an idea.

He starts muttering, and casts a simple illusion about himself to hide himself from sight, sound and smell.  He has the eyes spread out further, so as not to congregate on his location.

He continues on.

Soon, far away from the thing that cried in the night, the sun slowly rose,m casting its gaze upon Msonus and his land. The mountains seemed much, much closer now, fully dominating the horizon in front of him.

Msonus soon finds another, familiar looking traveler, sitting by a small creek. The traveler is dressed in brown robes, has a slyly inquisitive smile, and his eyes are alight with knowledge. On his forehead a third eye has been drawn in purple ink.

"You have returned," said the man, nodding at Msonus. "Lord."

"I suppose it could be said as such," Msonus says, shrugging. "And if you are here, then perhaps I have.

I assume I know who you are, but assumptions are rather silly. Msonus is Msonus, but what Msonus knows Msonus might not know. My my my.

 Who would you be? "

"I might be Parscle, Architect of the Seventeenth," said the monk. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Msonus. I am a fan of your work. Perhaps, being of the Seventeenth, not your biggest fan, but still the point remains. I had heard of your resurrection, but did not entirely believe it myself. Oh, such a fool I am."

"Resurrection is not the right word either, of course. But you know well enough, Parscle of the Seventeenth. Even if I do not. Neither fan nor fool, I should suppose, hmm? " he says quietly.

Msonus suddenly cheers up. "But, on to business. I seek those of this realm who know their Way of Seeing. You might know I was always partial for learning native customs. "

"Native customs? Ironic, yes," said Parscle the Seventeenth. "Since the Way of Seeing isn't from Som. No. It is from a distant place, a place of divinity - but not of God, of course - the Valley of such divinity. A purple tradition. Architecture, Lord Msonus, you must've heard of it."

"Isn't it funny, how rebirth works. I suppose familiarity is why it is interesting to me, then?" Msonus replies. " How intriguing to learn from something so personal...

I wonder if it is like teaching yourself something you don't know? I should very much like to learn."

At this, Parscle's eyes widened.

"But Lord!" he said, the pretence of equality gone. "You are of the 33rd Degree, sixteen above my own. How could you not know of.. Sacred Architecture..?"

"It is a rediscovering. I am Msonus, and so I am of the 33rd, but I am also Msonus, and so I know nothing. It is my belief that beginning to learn will help my rejoining of the two. Unless you know of a better way to regain the knowledge of a past self."

"Our teaching describes the Records of the Well," said Parscle earnestly. "Those Records at the core of Yggdrasil, expressed through every living being - trapped in our DNA, in our collective unconsciousness - in which all knowledge ever known by a creature native to our World-Tree is held, accessible to those who have reached enlightenment."

"Ah. What glorious teachings we have, then. Would you like to help further?

 Open yourself, Parscle, think hard on your learnings and we shall learn in a more immediate way. "

Msonus' third eye glows with a purple light, and for a moment it seems as if Parscle's forehead shares the same glimmer.

And then...

Msonus saw the shimmering of aligned light, the collection of thoughts of Parscle arranged beautifully in front of him, and learned of the Architects: originally created as an esoteric brotherhood after Msonus returned from Earth, inspired by the Masonic and Western Mystery traditions of the occult he found there, the original purpose of the Architects was to guard something - something very important. But what? That was the final reveal, given on the 32nd or 33rd - Parscle was sketchy on this point - Degree.

The Architects had almost died out, unfortunately, though they'd taken exile from the world even as long ago as the Age of Leagues, when they were declared traitors and hunted without mercy. There they fled to the far Eastern Mountains - which Eastern Mountains? This was unclear, too, though Parscle knew of which mountains he couldn't quite show Msonus what, exactly, they were, because they were obviously much more than mountains. They were hidden things. Since the disappearance of Msonus they'd followed his own teachings, studying his texts and the esoteric mysteries, the mysticism of magic, and - most dangerously - the past.

Seeing the thoughts answers questions, but Msonus is now bothered by further questions. He sighs.

 "I have much to remember, Parscle, and I am still not sure if you are the one to learn it from. Perhaps it is I who will teach me. Who knows? "  Msonus says, "But perhaps we should find our way to the temple. If that was where you were headed. It is not becoming to start a task and leave it forgotten for too long.  "

"I am sorry that I couldn't help, Lord Architect," said Parscle, a little sadly. "If it is your wish I can guide you to the Temple. It is.. you understand, however, that it is not of this land, of course. It falls in the Eastern Mountains."

"Do not worry; you have been the greatest help I have seen. Sadness should not be, not here.

 As for not of this land, that seems to be a common theme, Parscle. I am ready to travel." Msonus says.

"As am I," said Parscle, looking anxious as he brushed himself down. "But I must come clean to you. It has been I, masquerading as one of the Som, spreading rumours of the last Temple of Sight that exists in these lands. The Temple itself is not one of Sight, but is instead Blind, contained by our enemies. They care not about the rest of Som, but instead on assaulting the Eastern Mountains .. I had been sent not only to guard the temple and destroy our enemies but to find you if, as we suspected, you might be returned to us."

"Intriguing as usual, Parscle. Shall we be finishing your mission before? Will you grant me another look, then?" Msonus says, gesturing to Parscle's head. He wishes to use the same technique as before.

Msonus sees the hologram of the Temple of Sight, laced with the black of fear, the red of rage, the blue of despair and the gold of a need for revenge. He sees that it is a large - massive - building, originally guarded by several powerful beings in the service of the Architects, but they have been subdued. A largely mortal force, unmarked and unsealed - though Msonus sees that they belong to Lharazed and the Conclave, perhaps off the books - sit there at the room titled 'Portal to the East' - waiting for what? Some Divines, quite the amount of Sorcerers. A sizable force.

"My, my, quite the force. It should be better that we go together, then.

And you, Parscle? What would you have done had you not found me?"

"I would have continued to wait, and to plot, and, perhaps, when it all became too much, assault the temple by myself," admitted Parscle, feeling a little foolish.

"Have things come to such, then? " Msonus asks, talking to himself. He looks up, and suddenly says, "Did you know, Parscle, that my writings are widely published? It was a shock to me.

Peace, Parscle. I would guess we have tried it? I know some of the past, but not all is as it was.  And those who have been broken from stone live yet. And if not? We shall learn. Divines, Mortals... children of Alkan. It is quite the gathering we see there....

Of course, if one does not have the blessing of many deaths... it is a difficulty. Would you care to remain?

I wander again with my thoughts, but we must reach a destination somehow, you know. While we think, Parscle. " And with that, an eye pops, followed by another. They soar off to observe more directly the temple in question.

"I... I want to fight, Lord," said Parscle. "It is my calling as an Architect. An Architect who has taken the vows of sacred violence. I am a holy warrior, Lord, and this is my task. Live or die, I will fight by you."

--

Msonus very shortly received the message from the eyes: the temple was large, ancient, carved into the stone of the mountain itself. None seemed to be guarding the huge, Cyclopean outer entrances.