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Having a rather ecumenical library at the Chantry is good for Grace, who has been raised rather ecumenically herself. So, the books that she reads might be mostly incomprehensible, but there are times when one reads through the lines to get to the metaphors. Primal energies are referred to as semen in one book, blood in another -- always from a mythical, godlike source. It is the substance of creation, that from which everything sprung. That which might be made to spring again.

There was a time when Grace stood in the blackness of a starless universe and remade it. Not quite the same as starting from nothing. It was not without form and void, it had a corrupted codebase, that was all. She fixed what was there.

One wonders if it goes backwards and forwards just like that -- if one day, their own universe will cry out for help. As it stands, the codebase is broken. You can see the echoes of something else, something perfect, but they're echoes. Beautiful symmetries broken just enough that they're interesting, and importantly -- give rise to existence.

Take antimatter. There's no difference between it and matter, not really. The equations are the same with regards to both. They're inverses of each other, but generally have the same magnitude of properties. The only reason why we call it 'anti' matter, is because our normal surroundings aren't made of it. But why? Why does matter seem to be the only thing stuff is made of? Because somewhere, near the beginning, over the blackness of a starless nothingness, the symmetry of matter and antimatter was broken in favor of matter.

Things came into existence because of brokenness.

It makes one think. Maybe we wouldn't exist at all, if it weren't for imperfection. We complain endlessly about life -- how much it's broken. But would we be happier if it wasn't? Or would there just be a canceling out? A nothingness. If not for one side of the equation, there wouldn't be another. Somewhere in the state, a murderer of Mages waits for justice. Grace knows it's not a thing she can ignore -- she must fight against the darkness. It would be nice to have none. But without the fight, what is there? How would she know who to be, without the struggle?

The universe offers answers in its own scars. Look at what I've been through, it says. Calamities and rifts and a cut through the middle, bleeding so that you might be born. Mages can hold that lifeblood in their hands if they desire -- the energies of Quintessence. To harvest it, to change it, to create as if ex nihilo -- these aren't acts to take lightly. To understand a thing, one can try to trace it to its source, and this Grace does.

From the pain of broken rules, broken symmetries, broken code -- this sacrifice of perfection allows creation. It allows us to know who we are, and by extension, allows the universe to know itself.

It's almost a mistake when she draws Quintessence forth for the first time. She knows what it feels like to absorb it from the node -- the realness of the water settling into her body, until she feels so much more solid and alive than before. But she's never seen it, not directly, until she wipes the sweat from her forehead, and it causes a double-take. Sweat shouldn't glow like that. But the reason comes to her upon looking. It is two in the morning. She's been staring into her laptop trying to work out the unequal equations to do this for hours. Finally, it was enough of a sacrifice.

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[Lernin' a Prime Sphere!]

Grace @ 9:39PM
[Library 3 + 1 (Personal library), Diff 7 = Grace Learning Prime 3, spending wp!]
Roll: 4 d10 TN7 (3, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]


Tithe @ 9:48PM
[Witnessed!]