Growing Fear
Until the 2.2.2 update, this book was a duplicate of Previous Cultivator's Findings, a separate book in Dusps. If your world download is from before that point, you may have the duplicated version of this book.
This book can be found in a chest at Esipelli Vineyard in western Akhlo'Rohma. It describes a Casain author's experience moving to Akhlo'Rohma and facing significant racial prejudice in Dusps, culminating in his choice to return to Casai after a Casain was scapegoated and lynched in Dusps for a crime he did not commit.
Coordinates¶
| X | Y | Z |
|---|---|---|
| 1648 | 92 | -1359 |
Transcription¶
I left Athrah last year, sailing across the vast Gulf of Drehmal to work with my Uncle Sozic in the city of Dusps. I was confident that with my ability to carve runes of vitality and companionship into my family’s blown glass, I would find success. Instead, I found vitriol.
I made the mistake of choosing to live in a small flat in the red-painted Mazaferto Plaza instead of the Casain Quarter. When one bespectacled neighbor saw me, his eyes widened in panic and he quickened his pace. When I knocked at the door of a grandmotherly woman to introduce myself, she immediately slammed it back in my face.
Heart beating quickly, I made my way past stares and sneers to Uncle Sozic’s shop. I remember feeling great relief to see a familiar face. After exchanging blessings and talking for a bit about our distant families, I gave him a tight squeeze. I was surprised by how small and gaunt he had become.
We moved into the backroom, where Uncle lit his pipe and let out a long sigh. He then told me the story of how things had gotten so bad in the Painted City. Apparently, two months before I had arrived, the petulant and violent son of a Duspian legislator was killed in the streets at night near the Casain Quarter. Fingers were immediately pointed at our people. Though all individuals who matched the only witness’s description of the assailants were ruled out as suspects, the native Duspians needed someone to blame.
I tried to hide myself in the task of learning the tools of Uncle’s practice, but the pressure was rapidly becoming unbearable. New ordinances were passed to more heavily guard the Casain Quarter. My people felt like a colony of Maelific slaves. I moved out of my flat and into the Quarter, partly out of solidarity and mostly out of a pervasive, crushing fear.
It was three or four months later when the authorities found their scapegoat in the form of a dark-skinned petty thief by the name of Dozan. That same day, I was in the marketplace purchasing dyes when I heard the high-pitched voice of a young girl directed up at me: “Why is his skin so brown?”. His mother looked up at me, face twisted into an expression of contempt and disgust that chilled me to my bone. Her reply was quiet and clear: "Because he is a filthy rat who worships death. Stay away from criminals like him, dear."
Horror rose from my feet to my scalp and I stared my way back to the shop’s forge. When I heard that a crowd had ripped apart Dozan in the night, tearing him limb from limb, the world screamed at me that it was high time to leave.
To my abject horror, Uncle Sozic wouldn’t come with me. I begged and pleaded, but he couldn’t leave his life's work. Stealing quietly out of the city in the early morning, I bought passage back home on a privateer's ship.
I realize now that we are not welcome outside of Casai. The world is dying, and the people are turning on anyone different from themselves. Do not go to Akhlo'Rohma. You will live to regret it.