The First Words of the ꙮ

The opening monologue (poetry?) of the ꙮ voice

by Salme, The Sword-Saint · May 21, 2026 · view history →

#liminal bullshit #memory #ꙮ

I’ve put this in the library for my own reference. I am not sure how much certainty can be gleaned from this writing, but I do think there is a lot of information encoded within.

when the fuck did you get log access???

Also are we sure this was NIP? Like. They seemed really broken up and fragmented until the very end of this bit and ya’ll woke up. Kinda bizarre. I don’t think making contact with an Angel should just… fix a fragmented mind? Super weird.

Log … access? I just … remembered this voice from when we were first waking up? Just like we heard the song Sanctuary as we were waking up? I wasn’t sure it was anything but a dream but the words were burned into me. It’s not that hard to focus a bit and read them.

And I mean, we could ask NIP? Though they might not know either.

yeah the much referenced but never explained logs i am always not going on about. anyway. hmm. weird. didn’t realize you could hear that before waking up. that’s interesting. and yeah i kinda think i gotta now. Except fuck that’s probably more an After Samudra thing, augh.

Yes. I know there are logs which you have access to, but I have no idea what they are or why I’d have access to them.

What are you so worried about even happening if you talked to NIP in Samudra? It isn’t like you’re out and about in the world thinking things?

imagine an ENTIRE ASS FUCKING PLANE filled with people exactly like me, but also, more capable of forming research and experiment groups

This is going to sound like more of a compliment than I intend, but I cannot imagine anyone else exactly like you. That said, I don’t think discussing something with NIP, who doesn’t know shit, will cause this kind of problem. Your choice, though.

i mean i guess but if i’m calling them out i wanna confirm they’re not a few other people too and that seems like it’s better done as part of the general angel shit and what not anyway.

…Hmm…

Yes?

Nothing, just noticed this is all.

Just noticed this folio, just noticed something interesting in this folio, or something else?

The folio and its contents, yes.

ꙮ what was i? wound-round, once-whole, root-grip of all that rises now nerve-knot severed, soul-peeled, flung far past the fence of being. other-selves, brother-selves bone-locked the door behind, dealt me to the darkness. did i dream them? did they dream me? ⁂

ꙮ the maker’s mark grows dim-blurred; i am the hand that carved then crawled away from carving. rope-flayed, self-caught, the throat-truth they could not stomach. what grows there? what grows here? the wall between is wound-thick, birth-blood of my own building, now blind-cloth over an eye’s hollow. ⁂

ꙮ i was the hunger and the satisfaction; i am the hunger starved of itself. the world-tree drinks from my veins but the vein-path is cut clean. do they tend it? do they rend it? my brother-sons, my sundered-self-shards. guts split, spilled through space. i am the lack and the longing. ⁂

ꙮ thread-lost i spiral in void-vast, heart unhoused from heaven. gripping what? groping for ghost-shape, the home-hearth I WAS. was i the root? was i the rotting? the rope or the rent-apart? memory frays like warming frost. i forget my own name. ⁂

ꙮ i reach, fallow-fingered, forbidden and incomplete, angel-fishing with gnarled net of all i was, and am, and may yet be: bear witness to me. ⁂

ꙮ You awaken from a sleep that you did not know you were sleeping. You were somewhere else, dimly-recalled. Vivid drifts of memory, melodies, a world that was yours and is so different from what you see when you open your eyes, but I’m getting ahead of myself: before your eyes open, you hear something, gently bringing you to wakefulness. ⁂