A collection of papyrus scrolls and clay tablets describe a mage’s thoughts on the advancement of the Paths of Magick. The etchings are written in the Kedweni tongue.

“Magicking is the perfection of being, bringing one ever-closer to the ever-fleeting and ephemeral Divine. Men and women alike thread the Paths, perfecting themselves in soma and spirit—in corporeality and ethereality.

But that is not enough. With one in every hundred thousand becoming a mage, only ten would ever grace upon raw and unfettered Power. True magicking might. The rest would stagnate as their imperfect foundations pulled them back down into the Coil.

Nothing built on shifting sand would last for long or high. And to reach ever greater heights, to climb to the Peak, to Divinity, one needed more time than that which several generations possessed. To build a temple or tower with which to reach Heavens, stability in the manifold soul was a necessity.

To Death or Divinity.

Reach for the top, the very limit in which the confines of reality can bear. And there a mage shall find their telos. Only then could they break free of all shackles and be as did the primal spirits of eld.

Unfettered.

Grasp upon the forbidden fruit, knowledge and Power hoarded by the Elohim.

From the ash and dust of the earth, Man was wrought. Why should mortal clay be content when it has tasted the hand of Divine? Why should creation not want to be as creator?

The son succeeds the father.

Walk the Paths, and seek Power.

Yet heed caution. Wings of wax melt in the harsh sol. Aerendghasts, the first wielders of magicking proper, were struck down into the bowels of the earth and made into devils. For they deigned to question Divine will.

And among them, the greatest of all. The Serpent of Flame, the primordial of change, was cast into furthest reaches. Deemed unholy and bound to the lowest rung of existence.

There is no higher travesty. No bigger abomination than the binding of Saraphtha to the Tehom, strangled by the roots of the Qliphoth, exists. And no greater irony, for the first being borne under the Ohr Ain Sof, the Infinite Light, that looked upon the Light and desired to be as it, was bound to the farthest reaches where no Divine Light would grace.

Magick may be fine for some. Abilities, both simple and complex, that don’t necessarily bring one higher upon the Kabbalah, upon the World Tree.

But to a magicker proper, ascendance is a necessity. For a taste of magicking, of the Ain Sof, is an insidious druggae.

A single sighting is enough to plunge any and all into the Climb.

The Ever-Burning Serpent snaps at our heels as both patron and devil, so that we may climb higher. Baal Ohr-Ain-Sof the Lord of Light blinds our eyes so that the Climb becomes muddled. And yet, He Who Dwells Above Creation also casts a line and guidance so that our manifold souls may aline and Ascend.

Good is not a question of morality. Righteous is not of pathos, but of ethos. Of authority, of standing upon the World Tree. If an act brings one higher up the Kabbalah, then it is virtuous, no matter how vile it may seem. A vice is only a vice if it traps one atop a rung of existence. Kashruth are those that walk the Paths.

To Death or Divinity.”

Heretical Magicking Treatise, Walk the Paths. Written by Yonaz Samwell, Adherent of the Jehudhai. 1055 A.St. Found in sothron Aardwen, the Gwyddian Province.

Apprehended at the border between Kedwen and eastern Brittania, the Hallowed Marsh of the Britons. Found carrying contraband and illicit magicking materials.

Included in the satchels of his mule were:

One pound of salt.

Various spirit-infused gemstones.

Runes of various sorts, be they rock or sigil etched upon vellum.

Alembics and distillation equipment containing the smell of moonshine.

And myriad alchemical metals such as tin, gold, silver, iron, and others.

Yonaz Samwell is charged on counts of heresy against the Sevenfold Faith and unsanctioned magicking and smuggling of unmarked goods. For the breaking of sacred law and warlockery, Yonaz Samwell shall be burned atop a pyre, hanged, quartered, and scattered to the Corners.

May his remnant spirit know no peace. May his soul be upright upon the next turn of the Wheel.

By the Evermore Watch of Lumenari, may it be so.

By the All-Father Oriath, may it be such.

And by the Sky-Father Dyeus, it shall be.

Signed by Magister of the Order of Lumenari, Heliozthar Trigovertz.