Written in the centuries after the drowning of Maison Sere; compiled from the chants remembered in sleep in words traced on water.
Every copy drips faintly with the scent of
marsh salt and candle ash.
I. The Breath That Survived
When the Sanctum sank, a single breath did not drown.
It rose through the water, carrying memory rather than air.
That breath became the Whisper Current -
a ribbon of unseen wind that moves beneath the surface of the marsh.
Those who listen at its edge at the turning of the moons
hear fragments of the drowned witches' last vow:
"We are not gone; we are the silence that
breathes."
The covens that settled near the marsh learned to hear that current.
They became known as the Line of the Veiled, descendants not by blood but by listening.
Their calling was to translate the current's voice into new scripture -
a gospel of forgiveness and return.
II. The Oracle of Reflection
From this line was born the Marsh Oracle, a spirit that appears only in mirrored water.
Its face is never the same twice;
each viewer see the Witch they most resemble.
The Oracle speaks without moving its lips.
The sound is not heard but felt behind the ribs -
a reminder that prophecy is breath turned inward.
It tells no futures; it recalls forgotten truths.
"She waits in the stillness between your
questions."
III. The Candle Pilgrimage
Once each generation, the Veiled witches perform the Pilgrimage of Candles.
They walk the perimeter of the marsh in complete darkness,
each carrying a single flame protected by cupped hands.
For every step they take, they whisper a name of the drowned.
If a candle survives the circuit without dying,
its flame is said to hold a fragment of the High Witch's mercy.
Those flames are placed upon the water.
Most drift and vanish;
some sink, leaving a circle of light beneath the surface that never fades.
These are called The Eyes of Still Water,
and the Veiled believe that through them,
the Witch watches the balance of magic across the world.
IV. The Liturgy of Echoes
The Gospel preserves a liturgy taught to children before their first spell.
It is recited not in words, but in pattern -
three breaths, a hum, a pause.
Elders translate it as:
"We speak to listen,
we listen to remember,
we remember to remain."
They say the drowned witches recite this eternally beneath the marsh,
and that every time a mortal voice repeats it above the surface,
the two worlds meet for the length of a single heartbeat.
V. The Return of the Silent High Witch
In the thirty-century of the Serpent Age, a Night came when both moons vanished.
The marsh turned to glass, reflecting nothing.
Then, from that void, the Oracle appeared in full form -
a figure if smoke, bone, and light,
its eyes the color of dawn seen through tears.
The Veiled fell silent.
Through the still air came her voice -
not thunder, but the gentlest exhale:
"My silence has forgiven yoy.
Rise, and cary stillness into the living
world."
At that beneath the waters moved again,
and where each witch knelt,
a lily of silver bloom opened, glowing from within.
Since that night, no witch of Kenttra has drowned.
The marsh accepts them as reflection, not as loss.
VI. The Gospel’s Benediction
The closing lines of the Veiled Marsh Gospel are carved upon stone altars in both Kenttra and Huetown:
"All water remembers.
All silence forgives.
We are the echo of the Witch's breath,
and through us, the world learns to listen."
When the wind passes across those stones, a faint hum rises -
the same tone that began creation itself,
the heartbeat of the Silent High Witch,
and the whisper of the Moonlit Child forever circling her light.
The World of 'The Inheritance' Universe 
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