Knowledge, Our Lady of the Scars

Mahkt had many children, most beloved of which was their daughter, Knowledge. She was as beautiful as she was smart, with striking white locks and dark, ebony skin, and eyes like stars themselves. To hear her speak was to experience the hidden truths of the air itself, the secrets of the darkest ocean, the language of the earth itself. There was no thing that Mahkt loved more than to watch Knowledge as she strode across the world, leaving wonders and change in her wake, like a hurricane that breathed life. Such a blessing was she that even her sister, Speech, who was often wanton and cruel, found herself tempered by her mere presence.
Yet in mankind, who populated the earth after the Great Betrayal, Knowledge evoked a singular emotion: Desire. Men, women and others who beheld her were all struck with a ravenous lust, wanting for nothing more than to hold her close within their arms, to make her theirs and theirs alone. Yet Knowledge was shy, and would evade their grasping hands, fleeing further and further away with each and every attempt. So clear was mankinds’ hunger for their daughter that Mahkt, fortuitously, could not help but notice the naked greed upon their mein, nor the discomfort their attention brought upon their daughter.
And so Mahkt issued a decree, which they did often in those days, when mankind was still worthy of hearing their voice. They said that Knowledge was to be her own, and that she would only belong to those that earnt her, and that every step of that journey would be difficult, for only the best would be worthy of their dear Knowledge. And mankind covered before Mahkt’s voice, and knew that Mahkt had to be obeyed, in this as in all else, for all who had incurred their wrath had paid a terrible, terrible price.
Thus, humanity abandoned their hunt for knowledge, and set themselves instead to earning her favour. Men would dance in the wind to try and hear its truth, with which to impress Knowledge with. Women would swim to the bottom of the sea to pick at its secrets, to bring back and lay before Knowledge’s feet. Folk would sit down and sink their hands in the dirt and try to converse with the very earth itself, to woo Knowledge in its tongue. And for every task that mankind undertook, she would draw closer to them. Each truth learnt, each secret shared, every word spoken, would intrigue and tempt her, until soon, she walked among them.
However, not all could impress Knowledge so, and those still gazed at her with hunger. These people Knowledge would avoid, as she kept to the outskirts of mankind, only touching those who did as Mahkt had said and laid down the effort to earn her. Yet seeing her sit among their kin bred a putrid jealousy in the heart of those who wished her pinned, and each time she fled, this rot grew. They talked and whispered among one another of how she may be caught, yet each plan was foiled, and foiled again, for Knowledge was quick and clever and smart. Alas, no matter the skill, each contest has a hint of luck, and Knowledge needed it on her side each and every time, while mankind knew, it would only need fortune but once.
It was thus, that one dark day, those who lusted for Knowledge stood assembled, and designed their most heinous plot yet. They had it figured, they thought. Some of their number would earn Knowledge trust, by learning a single truth about the air, or a single secret of the sea, or a single word in the earth’s own tongue. Not so much to prove a true challenge, but enough, they hoped, to tempt her close. And then, as she came near, they would all descend upon her, and keep her as theirs.
Agreed and done, the plan was assembled. It might not have been much, only the barest of efforts, yet some of those that hungered gave it their hardest, and learnt at least a little. Little enough, that Knowledge was intrigued and overjoyed. These people who had so long treated her ill had finally changed, was what she thought! Thus, she decided to bless them with her presence, to take a few steps among them, so that they knew that the past was past and forgiven. Her siblings taught Knowledge naive, but she thought that she would show them.
Alas, she took nary a step amongst them, before the greedy horde fell upon her! Surrounded and outnumbered, she shied away and took flight, yet hands were all around, and while she was quick and clever and smart, Knowledge’s fortune had finally turned. A single hand caught her fast and gripped her tight. She twisted and turned, yet it would not release its hold, its grip so hard that nails would pierce through skin. Then, with a shriek and wail, Knowledge put down all her might, and tore herself from the greedy grasp… Though in so doing, a long furrow was left in her skin, a gaping wound which would soon become a scar.
The skin left in her assaulter’s hand was held aloof, a price they thought that they had won! Those that had hungered for her presence, now had this piece of Knowledge, to care for and share amongst them. They pierced it down upon some vellum, so that they all could view it and pass it amongst them. Knowledge that belonged to all, that did not flee, that did not have to be earnt.
Yet while Knowledge thought mankind sated, now that they had their piece, she would be proven sorely mistaken. In time, they would tire of their piece, and upon Knowledge they would play another trick. Each time, they would lure her close, and when she came, descent upon her. And each time, she would flee, though each time, a new scar would form upon her form.
Mahkt was wrought, yet could do little, for by the time this began they had retreated far from the world, and could not exact their grave revenge. Thus it was laid to us, as those who still heed Mahkt, to make their task our own. North and west, people write and call it wisdom, but we that tell the old tales know far better. Each stroke of the pain is a wound onto Knowledge, a piece of her body cut loose, made dead and, they think, defenceless. In this, we shall mark them as fools. For Knowledge… she might be forgiving. But Our Lady of the Scars?
She will show them vengeance.
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One of only a handful of texts that directly describe the beliefs of the mahktites. A group of Imperial scouts came upon a small group belonging to the banned religion, yet rather than attacking them directly, they hid, to see if they would discuss anything that may provide clues as to the location of other members of their sect. Instead, one of their numbers told this story. Fortunately, one of the scouts that observed them were skilled in shorthand and recorded this story. The recording is now kept in the Confidential Archives of Leopold’s Rose. It includes a final musing of the scout that observes the irony of recording a story about the evils of the written word on paper. I have chosen to omit this in my copy of the text.