Project: Mockingbird

Nearly consumed by curiosity surrounding the enigmatic events that changed her life forever in the wastes of the former Gaul Do Shah empire, Airtam carried with her a consuming passion bordering dangerously on obsession concerning the Somnambulists and the prophecy segments they carry. She used substantial resources and manpower that had been made available to her to track and study the phenomenon, though as the years passed many of her peers began to see the fascination as something darker and far more potentially damaging to both Airtam and Empire at large with this concern manifesting as, in winter of the year 143 PR, she located and managed to capture one leading her into a chain of events that inadvertently changed the course of history. Below is the letter of the attending Wraith Guard agent sent to collect the Somnambulist from where she was spotted wandering along the borders of Twilight Downs. Following writing the letter the Agent took his own life. His remains were found in a safehouse where the Somnambulist was contained, every member of the team deceased by their own hands in what appeared to be an unnerving display of madness or perhaps arcane manipulation. The entire event was covered up and the the letter delivered with the Officer's name redacted from the records, and all data on he and his team remains in obscurity either due to being lost or destroyed. None of their identities were ever recovered.

7th of Frigus, 143 PR
Headmaster Morenthall,
I understand your pursuant nature of the creature you refer to as a "Somnambulist" has a substantial weight in terms of your ongoing research into understanding that potentially locating slivers of divinity left behind in the absence of the gods, but the lengths myself and my unit had to go to in order to capture her was a cost that was too high for me to bear. Hope is very much subjective, and yours has severed the artery of my own, and I in turn now hemorrhage what good and light remained yet in me. I took an oath madam, one that I upheld through all my time and service, and one that I very much believed in, until now. The Code of Apotheosis is but ash on my tongue, my initiates are dead, my second hung herself last night, and now I stand poised on the edge of despair so deep that I can see nothing by the chilling night eternal in the reflection of my own eyes. I am hollow, and within the shell that writes this to you now stands only a mote of dust upon which is written the fading history of my soon to be forgotten name. We are cursed, Headmaster Morenthall. Drained not of life or power, or will of spirit, no...we are drained of hope in such a way that the vacuum it left behind now devours the glow of all those I dare to tell my tale to, though that number remains thankfully low. I take no comfort in the lack of numbers however, as the ones your blasted obsession cost me far outweigh the measure and value of any others I see. My family was supposed to be sacred, Airtam, untouchable. I am a high ranking member of the guard, and a Bechlarite society member. I had a life and a future, Airtam. I had a family and a legacy to go on and carry my name forth...but no longer. For the remainder of us, nothing.
I spit my malevolent discontent at your feet as I even now draw the blade and open my life to the foul air of this forsaken world. I hope you suffer Headmaster. I hope you all do, and I hope if Goyne returns that he forgets your name too. Enjoy your prize as I enjoy mine, for I go now to meet the cold earth with eyes closed and a shattered spirit. Damn you Airtam Morenthall. Damn you eternally.

Purpose

This is the account of the discovery, capture, and study of one of the strange Somnabulists like the one Airtam herself encountered after her expedition into the lands of the Gaul Do Shah met with its tragic end.

Document Structure

Publication Status

Those the Bechtlarite Intelligence Bureau tried very hard to keep this report from being disseminated, the supposed efforts of the Crows were doubled down on this particular subject, believed to have been pushed harder than the others due to the personal and cultural nature of the contents to Sighnai and her people.

Historical Details

Public Reaction

This particular document's release caused a significant stir among the Seanachaisian populace and well as their supported throughout not only the Becht Empire, but abroad as well, once again turning an especially negative light upon the Becht Intelligence network and leadership, though many claim that there were several alterations made to the leaked document and even more that suspect that Airtam herself was working independently of political oversight, and abusing her reach and granted resources to do so without the Sovereign's blessing or the Order of Objective Representation's knowledge.

Read the Document

Project: Mockingbird

12th of Frigus, 143 PR


Today, finally, I received the Somnambulist into the isolated labs beneath the University. She is a creature that carries a fragment of divine prophecy, and in this concept I cannot seem to fully fit how immense a gift this is within my finite mind. She was brought to me by the Wraith guard, but the agents who captured her did not survive, having apparently killed themselves following her capture. The Somnambulist seems unharmed, but I cannot help but feel a sense of foreboding at the cost of her arrival.

As my attendants led her to my underground laboratory for study, I couldn't help but wonder about the Seanachaisians, a once beautiful and talented people now on the brink of extinction. I had been involved in the fulfillment of one of their prophecies before, far away in distant Gaul Do Shah, and there I witnessed the power and wonder of their abilities firsthand. If I could only understand the source of their connection to the divine, perhaps I could find a way to help heal our world! But as I read through the report of the capturing agents, my thoughts were interrupted by the letter’s contents. It was written by the Wraith guard agents’ commander, filled with hatred and disdain for me. He blamed me for the curse of despair that overcame him and his team, causing them to take their own lives. His words were full of malice and wishes for my suffering and still smudged with what I can only surmise to be his blood. I could not understand his hatred for me. All I have ever wanted was to help the people of Cairne, to find a way to bring hope and light back into our world. And yet, this agent seemed to see me as a source of darkness and despair. Why could this have happened, and why would this honorable agent, a veteran commander, suddenly see my orders as the catalyst for their demise. This was meant to be a simple collection of what seems to be an entirely docile individual. What went wrong?.

As I entered my laboratory with the Somnambulist, I could shake the feeling of unease that lingers within me. There are forces at work in our world that we do not yet understand, and I fear that they may be darker and more dangerous than we could have ever imagined. How do we even know for sure that the myths and legends supposing that these creatures are tools of Bodi are accurate? The Seanachaisians largely take this on faith, desperate that their god has not abandoned them and taking this as a sign that his songs will prevail through whatever timeless sleep has spirited his essence away from our world..what is this is merely a trick by…whatever lurks in the Void?

As I looked at the Somnambulist, I couldn't help but be struck by her beauty. She appeared to be a young woman, untouched by time or age, with a soft blue nimbus surrounding her. It was an aura that seemed to make her impervious to all harm, cool to the touch and radiating a gentle thrumming of power one can feel when you are close. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be sleepwalking, moving slowly and gracefully as if in a dream, completely oblivious to her surroundings and making no effort to resist being led through the lad to the study chamber, yet, there was something about her that was otherworldly, something that hinted at a deeper connection to the divine. Despite my concerns, I cannot deny that there remains a power working through this poor soul that is far beyond human comprehension.

I found myself unable to look away from her, my mind consumed by the need to understand this creature and the fragment of prophecy that she carried. My obsession with the Seanachaisians and their connection to the divine has teetered on an unhealthy fixation for years, I admit, but with the arrival of the Somnambulist, it felt as if I had finally found the missing piece of the puzzle. I know that I need to study her, to understand her and the source of her power, but as I looked at her, I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt. The Wraith guard agent's words echoed in my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder if my obsession with the Seanachaisians was leading me down a dark path, but even as these thoughts lingered in my mind, I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from the Somnambulist. She was a creature of such unimaginable beauty and wonder, and I knew then and there that I needed to unlock the secrets of her power, no matter the cost. As I begin to prepare for my studies, I can't help but feel a sense of excitement and trepidation. The Somnambulist is a creature of immense power, and I know that the knowledge could I gain from studying her could potentially send us down the path to not only revelation, but redemption as well! My attendants think I don’t hear their whispers. Soon they will understand, just as I did, just as Ioelena came to see as well. Soon…

18th of Frigus, 143 PR

It has been a week since the Somnambulist was delivered to me, and to my rending frustration, I feel as though I am no closer to understanding the nature of the creature. The blue nimbus that surrounds here seems to present an element of protection around her, shielding her from any and all harm, and likely what keeps her removed from age and perhaps even time itself. My mind returns to the jarring demise that overcame the previous Somnambulist following the utterance of her prophetic words. The keep must lie somewhere within this field of energy, and there must be some trigger or key that will unlock it.
We have secured the Somnambulist in a negative pressure chamber here within the lab, and isolated her within one of the testing facilities, as far removed from the other projects as possible. For sake of communication and remaining discreet, I have opted to refer to this study as Project: Mockingbird, and to enforce strict regulation upon my staff to only refer to the study in this way, and to cease and withhold any further outside collaboration and sharing from this moment forward. As far as the academic and political oversight we normally have is concerned, this project has been cancelled. I cannot afford to have uninitiated eyes looking over my shoulder as we work.
This brings me to the reason I feel we need such secrecy. Two of my assistants, Hernando Siegfried and Fawn Bercidia, both junior members of the team, have walked off the project as of three days ago with Hernando claiming we had mistreated the subject, and Fawn rather angrily storming out not long after shouting about betrayal and a return of the Empire that caused all this to begin with. I was in shock! I have known them both for years, and worked on many projects with them, it was why I brought them into the project to begin with. I trusted them. I have made multiple attempts to follow up with them both but they have seemingly disappeared. My contacts with the Bechtlarite Intelligence Bureau also insist they have no knowledge of their whereabouts, but I am suspect of them in this matter. I am no fool and recognize the implications of the work we are doing here and what it could mean for our relations with the Seanachaisian refugees, or the world at large for that matter. They claim it is likely the handiwork of the Burnt Crows, which honestly, terrifies me even more. What would those terrorists do with this information? How would they react? Surely it would lead to violence, and though they left in anger, I fear for the safety of my missing staff. This was meant to be a simple study, not an international incident.
She is beautiful. I cannot deny it, not the pull her strange, sleeping countenance has on me, this calming, melancholy I feel when I am close to her, even in the chamber in which she stands motionless, isolated and cut off. It has become commonplace to see my staff members get lost in her presence, to catch them standing there, staring...sometimes even quietly weeping. When roused and asked what had happened, none can say. It seems that her comeliness or aura is enough to wash the room with her power. I too have been caught in this strange phenomenon, only to forget what it was that had entranced me so. Once on the other side of whatever I had experienced, all

I could remember was Ioelena's face for some reason, and that I missed her odd ways and quiet conversation. It seems the Somnambulist's power, the power of the old world Seanachaisians holds firm within her somehow. None of us here ever knew their former empire aside from the historic documentation available for study. I should find someone who knew them then perhaps. That insight would be a likely boon to our attempts.

20th of Frigus, 143 PR
Enough time has passed and the data collected has verified my suspicions that the energy the Somnambulist generates fluctuates often. While we have not managed to illicit a singe response from her from any form of external stimuli. We have attempted various forms of communication in several languages including Seanchaisian, but she either cannot hear or is unable or unwilling to respond if she can. We even went so far as to attempt to threaten her, starting small and working up to larger and larger base dangers introduced into the testing chamber. Everything from fire to cold, to physical harm she remains impervious to and unflinching as well. Yesterday we flooded the chamber with fire, immolating her entire form with extreme heat and all we managed to do was crack the negative pressure chamber. She never even flinched. It was purely by chance that we noticed the shifting in her energy readings at all. As I mentioned prior, we often get lost in her presence, drifting out and experiencing some type of strange reverie. We have implemented a call and response system for technicians working closely with here where one remains out of sight and calls to the other from time to time, insuring that they remain alert and do not succumb to this strange power. Almost as if aware of our system, it appears as though one of the technicians did indeed fall prey to the lull of her presence, and when the minder failed to receive a response, they attempted to rouse the other and in doing so, got caught up in the effect themselves. I found the two of them on their knees in front of the chamber, weeping as one might prior to loosing everything. While I attempted to bring them back from the state they were in, I noticed the galvanometer going haywire, as though being buffeted by some invisible force strong enough to register as electricity.
It stopped the moment I noticed. It stopped, and when I looked at her, I could swear her eyes were open, only for a moment. Perhaps it was my imagination, but in that moment, I felt such a seething anger the likes of which I have never experienced before. So potent was it that I was afraid, stunned even for a moment enough to look away, but when I returned my gaze, she was the same dormant beauty as before, eyes closed and still as the sea on a windless day. I suppose it could well have been my imagination or some residual effect of her aura, or perhaps a taste of what has been happening to us while we are in these fugue states brought on by proximity to her.
The technicians, once composed grew angry and accused me of placing them and the rest of the team in the path of undue danger and risk for the sake of pursuing my own goals. Me! I was so stunned by the accusation that I slapped the technician across the face, hard. Hard enough to spin the poor man around. A full on argument of devolved purpose and abhorrent language sparked from there and for the next hour or so we screamed at one another, so rife with our individual rages that we wept through the pitched arguments and raised voices, though none of us seemed to notice. Looking back I cannot even remember why we fought or what about exactly, though I have a faint recollection of the galvanometer registering another loud flux of variable energy levels in the background. Could this be her? Perhaps a safeguard or defense mechanism of some sort to protect against capture or attempted harm?
No matter. I have not come this far to be deterred by these empathic games. She is mine. I will not simply give up. They found Hernando's body last night, the poor soul had been stabbed several times and robbed of all his personal effects when the Guard found him in the University gardens. I have no idea why he would have been there, but I assume Fawn has met a similar fate. I can't let their deaths be in vain, they would want me to complete my task, I know it. I carry on for them, and for the good of Cairne as well.

26th of Frigus, 143 PR

It's been a week since my last entry, and I'm afraid things have only gotten worse. The fighting has gotten more frequent and violent, and I've had to start locking myself in my office to avoid the chaos, but amidst all the turmoil, I've managed to gather some new scientific data. I've been working on a new experiment to measure the Somnambulist's response to different stimuli, and I've noticed something peculiar. Every time I'm near her, the galvanometer spikes. It's almost as if she's aware of my presence, and it's not just a simple physiological response. I cannot deny it any longer, I am deeply, and terribly, in love with the Somnambulist. Her otherworldly beauty, the aura of power that surrounds her, it's all so intoxicating. It's as if I can feel the very essence of the divine within her, and it calls to me like nothing else, but the others, they see it too, and they are fighting over her like dogs over a scrap of meat. I can hardly stand to watch them, but I can't bring myself to intervene. I can't help but wonder if she feels the same way I do. I know it sounds insane, but I can't shake the feeling that there's something between us. It's as if she's reaching out to me, trying to communicate something that I can't quite understand. I can't stop. I can't let go of this feeling, this need to understand her, to be near her. It's as if my entire life has led me to this moment, to this creature that shouldn't even exist. And yet, here she is, in my lab, in my life.
And then there's the nagging feeling at the back of my mind, that this is all wrong somehow, that we shouldn't be doing this, that we're tampering with things we don't fully understand. I try to push it aside, to focus on the work, but it's always there, like a whisper in the back of my head. I'm beginning to question my own sanity, my own motivations. Am I really doing this for the sake of science, or is there something more selfish driving me?

33rd of Frigus, 143 PR

Another week has passed, and while I am quickly depleting my supplies in the lab, I simply do not care...though a part of me feels like it should be a much greater concern. I've been too busy keeping the lab on lockdown, barricading myself inside with my beloved Somnambulist. I can feel her presence near me, her soft blue aura glowing brighter every time I come near her. The other technicians have grown violent, fighting amongst themselves and resulting in two deaths that I know of. I know I should be horrified by this, but a part of me feels relieved, knowing that there are fewer people between me and her, and try as I do to force myself to feel remorse because the practical part of me knows it is the proper response, I can't bring myself to feel remorse for the deaths of my colleagues. All I can think of is the Somnambulist, and how I can't bear the thought of her being taken away from me. I know if I reach out that they will take her...those greedy bastards. She is only for me. The spikes in the galvanometer every time I am near her prove my belief that she is aware of my presence, and that she feels the same love for me that I feel for her. I can hear her in my head...or perhaps it is my ears? Who can say with Johnston screaming and banging on the door? I can't think! The song though....the song. I hear it like a sweet and timeless melody ringing in my heart and sounding softly through the din of chaos outside my door. She sings to me and me alone her song of love, begging my devotion, running her invisible touch made manifest in her aria along every secret corner of my spirit. She wants me to take her from this place so that we can be alone, so that she can show me her secrets! So we can heal the world together. 
Maybe Johnston will die soon. I hear a struggle out there yesterday and I think he was hurt before he killed whoever was trying to pull him away. That is when my love and I will make our escape!

40th of Frigus, 143 PR (Supposed)

I fear that I am losing my mind. The days are blurring together, and my thoughts are consumed with my beloved Somnambulist. I can hear people moving outside, and I know that they are coming for her. I cannot let them take her away from me. I will do anything to keep her safe and by my side. Johnston is now dead, and I marvel at how long he lasted. I am thinking he must have had a stash of food and water out there. My own supplies ran out a day ago, and I am already starting to feel weak. I fear that I will fail my beloved Somnambulist and that she will leave me for another. I can still hear people out there, milling about...trying to plot a way to taker from me. I must escape this lab with her so that we can be alone together. I am willing to do anything to make that happen, even if it means hurting others or myself. Even if it means killing them all. I will sterilize the lab on my way out. They will only follow if I do not, and I can't have that. I must save my beloved.

As I lay here, listening to the Wraith Guard trying to break through my barricade, I can't help but think of my beloved Somnambulist. Everything I have done, every choice I have made, has been for her. I know the others won't understand, but I can't bear the thought of anyone taking her away from me. I tried to escape earlier, but I was discovered by one of the remaining technicians. They attacked me, and I managed to fend them off and block the door again, but it feels like days ago. I am weak now, and I fear I am dying. I hope they all die trying to get in. They don't understand the connection I have with her, the love that we share. In the end, all that matters is my beloved Somnambulist. She is all I want, all I know, and all I care about. I hope she sees me and knows how much I love her. As I prepare to pass on, I can only hope that she will be safe and loved, wherever she goes.

57th of Frigus, 143 PR


It has been two weeks since my rescue by the Wraith Guard and my subsequent recovery. Physically, I'm healed, but mentally, I'm still struggling to come to terms with the events that transpired in the lab. I lost my entire team to the madness that consumed us all, and I can't help but feel responsible for their deaths. The power of the Somnambulist was too great for any of us to handle, and I shudder to think of what might happen if we released her back into the world. I made the decision to have her moved into deep storage, where she can no longer harm anyone, but a part of me still longs for her, still feels the pull of her presence, and it scares me.
The Bechtlarite Intelligence Bureau has covered up the deaths of my team, but that offers little comfort. I'm wracked with guilt, and I can't help but think that I should have seen the warning signs sooner, that I should have known that something was amiss, that we were all in danger. I have failed in my duties in every aspect of my position and tenure, as well as my authority and supposed ability to guide and direct those that work under me. I have tried to tenure my resignation, but was denied. I was told that my penance for what happened was to remain in my position and to continue my work without letting anyone know what has happened here. They actually told me that the guilt I felt was a small price to pay for the information that I gathered. While part of me, the practical and calculating part understands this...am I not human?
There's something else that worries me even more. The technician named Fawn, who left early on with Hernando, never turned up. No one has been able to find out where she went, and her records have turned out to be very masterful forgeries. Her apartment is empty, and I fear that she may have been an agent of the Burnt Crows. What if Fawn was working against us the entire time, infiltrating our team, and sabotaging our work? What if the Burnt Crows are planning retribution for Project: Mockingbird? I can't help but feel like we're not out of danger yet. I'm filled with a sense of unease, and I don't know what the future holds. All I know is that I need to be more careful, more vigilant, and more aware of the dangers that lurk in the shadows.
I feel like I should write here about lessons learned and assurances of things not happening again, but despite my recent failure, I am no fool to the reality of my position now. They have me locked down. The evidence generated by my actions remains firmly in their hands, and they can use it to destroy me at any time they see fit. From here on out I must do as they command. I can only hope they remain as pure to the callings of discovery as they claim to be. 
I have never felt more alone than I do now, or more afraid.

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Type

Leaked Original

Medium

Vellum / Skin

Authoring Date

12th of Frigus 143 PR thru 57th of Frigus 143 PR

Location

Twilight Downs

Authors

• Airtam Morenthall