A collection of true stories compiled by a scholar named Kyros from a time of great change in the Grove. They received their name from the constant tears that Kyros shed during compilation which made continuing their work extremely challenging.
Tearful Tales Collection
Editor: This collection was compiled by Kyros the scholar. All stories contained are true stories that occurred during the time of great change in the Grove and are preserved by the sacred tree of Cerces. May the light of intellect and reason shine on forevermore
The School of Eternity For countless mornings we would recite the teachings of Thalesus on the stone steps of the Courtyard of Storge. As the morning dew condensed on the leaves above us, it would drip onto the pages of our books. I always believed back then that these water droplets must contain the sparks of wisdom, just as Cerces condenses every new thought into nourishing dew. Thinking back now, perhaps that dew really did contain some form of divinity. How else could we have enjoyed such wonderful moments inside the Grove for so long? How else would even the dullest of students have been able to gradually achieve enlightenment within it?
The Final Lecture The lesson that day was meant to be like any other. We were discussing the differences between the ideals of Erythrokeramism and Helkolithism at the Star-Chase Atrium, to debate whether sensory knowledge supersedes reason or whether reason births sensory knowledge. Suddenly, someone shouted out: "Look! Up in the sky! What is that!?" We raised our heads to see that the stars in the sky had dimmed as if they were eclipsed by a layer of fog. Only later did we learn that this was the portent of the black tide's coming. The teacher calmly responded: "...Everyone, we shall terminate our teachings for this semester here. I hope that you will all remember that thought is the most noble form of ritual." That was the final lesson that I received within the Grove.
Tears and Grief The following words were discovered on the wall of the Chamber of Purifying Tears Dearest mother: I remember that you once told me that the cold can clear our minds. Now, immersed in the cold of this pool, all I feel is numb. I never got to see you on the day that you left us. You followed the caravans to Okhema and said you would bring me back a copy of On the Seven Emotions and Three Forms of Love. But the black tide came too quickly. Now, I finally understand why this place is called "the Chamber of Purifying Tears." This pool is not only purifying my body, it is also washing away the sadness in my heart. Oh, how I wish I could taste your cinnamon rolls just one more time. Your daughter, Elina.
Dying Ramblings Recorded from a dying White Dryad ...They said that we would die, but how could a tree fear death? Our root systems are connected and our memories flow between us. Even if our branches dry and rot, the seeds of intellect will sprout again. I remember the scholars who would come and go through this land. They would speak to us and see us as beings of wisdom. It was fascinating. They forget the wisdom of life itself in their pursuit of eternal knowledge. When the black tide breaks us down, it is the youngest branches that wither first. This reminds me of the first lesson of Cerces: Reason must be rooted in the earth...
Confessions of a Fugitive As I escaped with all of the books I could carry, the Library of Philia had already been mostly overrun by the black tide. Those precious manuscripts dissipated into a cloud of black smoke in an instant. I came across many other scholars who were trying to escape along my way. We supported each other and shared what rations we had remaining. When we were overwhelmed with fear, we would take turns reciting the content of the works we could remember, so we wouldn't lose the wisdom of the Grove. As we were running away from the Grove, it was with uttermost irony that we kept remembering the warning Thalesus shared in Regarding Pilgrimages: "When you are chasing after the stars, make sure to pay attention to what lies underfoot." Perhaps this is some kind of cruel joke of fate. Though we have come to this place to pursue knowledge, it is only when we are running for our lives that we finally come to understand the teachings of the sages that came before us.
Final Prayer A slate discovered next to a corpse Oh, great Cerces! You have taught us reason and intellect, but never the terror of death. As the black tide devoured your roots, I saw the final leaf on your branches still trying to stretch out and reach towards the skies. If this is truly the end, please grant me your tenacity and allow me to think until my final moment.
Editor's Afterword: As I was compiling these stories, I often found myself unable to stop crying. As each tear fell onto the paper below, it would cause the ink to spread into a small pool. It was as if those who had passed were still trying to tell me their unfinished stories. However, I think that this is the final epiphany that Cerces has left us: That even in the darkest of times, the Coreflame of Reason will never be extinguished. If you are reading this in the distant future, please remember: The Grove was not merely a place that imparted knowledge to countless scholars, it is also a symbol of our ideals and beliefs. Though we have fallen, our ideals and faith will always remain here, never to be extinguished.