At the Tower of the Four Winds, on the fourteenth season of the reign of our Celestial Emperor Long-Mu Fifth-of-His-Line, I lay down these lines while awaiting the return of the Four Couriers of the evening. I am Sage-Astrologer of the Court of Jade, second-degree of the House-of-Wind. Our protocols permit me one private observation per cycle, on condition that I mark it with the seal of the unofficial. Here is mine.
The Empire of Jade is the most ancient of the civilisations still standing on Aldémoros that did not have to flee to survive. We came from the Former World, like our cousins of the Empire of Men and our brothers of Albion; we arrived on this world at the First Convergence at the same time as they, but we found our lands already prepared by the Four Ancient Dragons who waited there since the Age of Legends. They received us. They made alliance. They taught us the Jade. And we built.
Our cosmology rests on four cardinal pillars. To the North, Long-Drak, Iron-Dragon, patron of rigour and measured war. To the East, Long-Yang, Light-Dragon, patron of trade and harvests. To the South, Long-Yin, Shadow-Dragon, patron of oracles and hidden Discipline. To the West, Long-Tian, Celestial-Dragon, patron of the Emperor and of Jade itself. The Way of Jade, which is our magic, balances the four Breaths in a harmony that foreign schools do not grasp. The mage of Jade does not channel, does not grave, does not trace — he balances.
The Celestial Emperor has ruled the Empire since the First Convergence, an unbroken line guarded by the Four Ancients. His Court of Jade holds the Celestial Lanterns (who hunt the Chaos Infiltrated Cults), the Talons of Storm (our martial elite), and the Forge-Mages of Fire-Rain (our alchemical powder, which is neither the Dwarven rune nor the verminous Corrupted-Steel). Other peoples accuse us of pride; we let them say. We compare ourselves to no one, because measure does not compare.
This season, our Couriers reported from the Four Winds simultaneously:
— From the West, the Talons of Storm signal a Greenskin Krakaa of unprecedented size descending toward our passes. — From the East, our observation vessels sighted a Dark Elf fleet skirting the cold sea; their passage troubles the currents. — From the South, a Celestial Lantern reports an Infiltrated Cult in the port-city of Hau-Lin, deeper than anything seen in three centuries. — From the North, our sappers report Vermin tunnels beneath our rice-fields, closer than any chronicle permits.
Four borders, four threats, four seasons. This has not happened since the Collapse. At the Court, the Emperor has named his daughter Xian Mei to the head of the Talons of Storm for the first March of unification in five hundred years.
The Ancient Texts say: « When the Four Winds blow together, the storm follows. When the storm follows, the Jade holds or splits. » I do not know, this season, which of the two. The Four Ancients still sleep, and I have not the authorisation to wake them. But I hold this tower. And the tower holds. That will suffice for this cycle. For the next, the Emperor will know.