14th January 1663 to 10th February 1663

The plains of Brigadoom itself are flat and covered in mists, but you
climb a hill over in nearby Tom Na Grugach to begin your journey -
and, what do you know, an abandoned watchtower called Ulalongda is
waiting right here for your use!

The light of the diamond at Thisbe's Blessing pours out of the mists
like a beacon, helpfully allowing you to line up for your first jump
into the unknown. Even from the heights of the watchtower roof, you
know that you are unlikely to make it all the way in Taacateca's first
leap, but you hope to at least get a fair way into the mist-shrouded
lands before you land.

Climbing onto his shoulders, the initial leap is blunted by the extra
weight, but the warm summer air still catches Taacateca's wings; you
soar over the border into Brigadoom and glide gently onwards over the
mist-shrouded plains...

...and onwards, much further than you were expecting, as the thermals
rise from the mists and bear you up. Yet now you are off course,
gently and consistently dragged by the breeze away from the shining
white light emanating from the Cathedral, over towards Rannoch and the
edge of the mists.

Taacateca sees what is happening, too. He tries to angle down, fold
his wings, drop into the mists, but still you fall slowly, edging away
from your goal, carried by a warm, gentle breeze.

You see your target slipping away, off to one side, tantalisingly
close - and you jump.

As you fall through the mists - surprisingly slowly, surprisingly
calmly - you feel prompted to reconsider your actions, your
motivations, your allegiances.

Would the Weaver truly act to coerce people to her service? Would Her
will really express itself in some kind of restrictive way? Does She
not know the consequences of Her own actions, and has She not already
arranged to mitigate them?

Or is it simply that, given the choice - the free choice, unbound from
the shackles of convention, of fear, of tradition that usually bind
them - people will generally embrace the Weaver's path so
whole-heartedly that it can _look_ like coercion, especially to those
who are already blessed with free and independent thinking?

But you are determined; and you feel that your determination is
respected, although there is regret in it, too. Landing lightly within
the mist, you follow a wisp of light, and it guides you straight to
the foot of the Cathedral.

There are many Weaverites gathered here to defend Thisbe's Blessing,
so you make the claim that you are here to join them; it is a strange
mix of people that you see, Elise Girard and Dr Theodore Rostrup
standing alongside Benedict Delano's soldiers, Parnassus and Ishtar
bathed in some kind of holy radiance which makes their fur practically
glow, larger than life; a nondescript human who turns out to be Sloth,
who was once a Fallen Eidolon...

You explain the aerial capabilities that some of the ophidians now
have, and suggest that you might be posted to the roof of the
cathedral, to deter anyone attempting to steal the diamond from the
air. Much to your surprise, there is general agreement, and you are
shown to the stairs that will take you up to the main tower access.

Emerging onto the cathedral's roof, you are repeatedly struck by the
awesome beauty of the architecture; it thrums with the energy of
limitless potential, of endless diversity, of true, creative
freedom. The energy of the diamond is obviously infusing every part of
it, and grows ever stronger as you climb towards the pinnacle.

Once again, you feel that call that came in the air above Brigadoom;
it is not quite the voice of the Weaver, because that is not
survivable by a mortal soul, but if it was, it would be saying: You
can still change your mind. It is not too late. It is not too late for
you to be free.

And now you are face to face with the diamond. It is painful to have
your eyes open anywhere near it, or even point them in its direction;
the light is so pure and so intense. Even with your eyes averted, you
can feel the sheer energy of it, setting your fur on end, making you
feel light, but at the same time so heavy - so material - as if it
would be so easy to throw off this burden of flesh and blood that
weighs you down, and ascend directly to the heavens...

You open your eyes - you look at it - it is like looking directly into
the sun - and you reach out and put one hand on it, two, gently
attempt to unseat it from its place.

There is a terrible, blinding flash of light, of clarity, of
_anger_. For a moment there is nothing but white and pain - and the
feeling, somehow, of a mother snatching her child away from the path
of a charging unicorn.

Then you are clinging to the spire of Thisbe's Blessing, wrapped
around it like a monkey, desperately terrified of relaxing your grip
even a little; and you cannot see. You still feel the light from the
diamond, the energy radiating against your skin, but your eyes report
nothing but endless darkness.

You hang there, for an endless moment. Time passes. Your muscles
tire. But you do not dare let go of the spire. Time passes.

Just as the pain in your limbs is becoming truly unbearable, you feel
movement, very nearby. Scaled limbs wrap around you; an ophidian,
wearing leather armour, is attempting to rescue you. You hear
Gebrinius' voice, although somehow strange, as if he has mandibles -
"Easy, now, kid."

You let the stranger pluck you from the spire, and she re-attaches you
to the back of what feels like a giant spider; warmth rises from its
surface in waves, almost like a very gentle and welcoming fire, and it
carries you down the cathedral's tower.

You are deposited in amongst a group of Malathian peasants who are
tasked to look after you, as you gradually learn to operate without
relying on your sight.

When you feel that you are ready, a young lady who lived in Wanamingo
village for a time escorts you out of the mists and to your next
destination.