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Foreword Praise to the Fathomless Depths! Therein life is changed: where nothing mortal could survive, life is twisted to flourish. Its darkness is such that it becomes an unlight, and in this contradiction there is power. Know that I am Bahqqit and here my journey to unlight is chronicled. To follow my path is impossible but it shall be recorded for the wonderment of all. The journey to unlight can be comprehended by lesser minds as composed of stages. Each stage is a trap of its own as is this simplistic understanding. At each revelation the unwary seeker shall think “Ah! At last I understand!” but their glimpse is as through murky water. I was born into riches, and wanted for nothing, but desired everything. Only I was immune to such traps. Seekers are called to the path by that which dwells, fathomless. It entreats them with promises of power in return for the simplest of obligations: to be its eyes above the waves. And it is no liar. Power is granted. I have killed with a glance and neither the careful study of the erudite arts nor the fervid faith of divine inspiration were defense against me. Neither is it a lie that the seeker shall watch. That which dwells becomes their master, peering through their eyes at all times. This is the first trap. Most seekers fall here. They struggle against foes, against their station, against the world, and their boldness and overconfidence leads them to an unmarked grave. They are mere curiosities to that which dwells. Seekers exploit the power they are granted. They shower themselves in all that they can grasp. They revel in commanding foolish lackeys. They laugh at those they see as beneath them. These possessions are no lie. The things of this world are there for the taking. I have known women and men in every way possible both slavishly willing and tremulously defiant. Real also are the pleasures of such ownership. Sensation becomes their master, and they drown themselves for the amusement of that which dwells. This is the next trap. I have known of cult leaders who thought themselves powerful and wise who fell here. One gorged herself on the riches of Jade for over a century before her power was stolen. Another sank into senescent madness with every depravity of the fleshpots of Keltokel there for his caprice. These are wasted potential, accomplishing nothing but a passive weakening of the world which might resist that which dwells. Seekers see that there is still a higher power. For all their might, and for all their possessions, that which dwells is beyond challenge to them. They fall on their knees finally, in worship. That worship is not a lie. That which dwells is the source of all for them. I have but glimpsed its splendor in the unlight of the benthic deeps and know it for the power that it is. But also real is its godlike disdain. Does the carpenter care for the worship of a hammer? This is the next trap. These are the truest slaves, and that which dwells delights in the fruit of their service. But it never delights in them. Seekers understand, and then seek ever more understanding. Their minds are opened by depravity, by sensation, by secrets. And with their arts they comprehend more. This knowledge is beyond lies. I fathomed the fathomless, and know the great falsehood of that which dwells. Finally, the satisfaction is also real. The seeker is at last truly elevated above the ignorant. They lose their reason and become complacent. This is the last trap. Even now in Jade there is one who flounders about, reveling in secrets that any fool could discern. Such have become little more than a lidless eye, madly whirling and glancing about for the whim of that which dwells. At each stage, the seeker is more and more illuminated. But light is of this world. Even that which dwells, cloaked in the unlight it has appropriated, is of this world. It is gross matter, little more than the muck of the sea floor. To escape, the seeker must go beyond the world. The unlight was there before illumination. When the lamp of reality is quenched, the unlight rushes back in to claim its own. She who stole the power of that which dwells from the whore of Jade understood this. I do not know if she was consumed by her schemes, entrapped finally, but I shall not fall at the threshold. My name shall be writ on the fabric of all that is, and I shall be a seeker no longer.