>The following words have been scribbled hurriedly on the leaflet. Written in a very dramatic script with each penned letter interlocking with the next and the spacing between words in short supply.
"Be Safe." The words of the Tailor have been tugging against my thoughts ever since the day Its hands found truth in this cloak. It is only after I made the trek to the islands and was visited by Mentor that I took reprieve and gave these words the attention they deserved.
>"Be Safe." Safe. Be.
The more I read the words aloud and write them down, the more I'm revealed the subtleties of the phrasing. It is interesting to find that such a wealth of knowledge could be acquired from such a creation... or perhaps it was Its Master whose aim was to inform? In either case, the Tailor revealed two truths that day.
At the very core of this wordage is a call to action.
Be.
The very act of 'Being' requires action and effort. It, quite literally, means to exist, occupy, and belong. Here I sit, among this island wreckage, an outcast in Qi and the provinces that border it. I feel no sense of occupation. No belonging. And, existing? I am a far cry from what it means to truly exist! For so long I have been very passive in my dealings with my Work. Careful with each step, whispering in my sleep, and cautiously tending to plants in this ever-growing garden of Philosophers from behind the cover of shadows.
Safe
My time of passively waiting for Safety to find me must come to an end! I must be active in finding -- or creating -- my own. My Work depends on it! For no plant can flourish in a garden when he who tends to it cowers from the elements that threaten it. I cannot tend to the plants I cannot see, nor can any plant bend toward the Sun that does not shine.
>The words in the remaining sentences have been written so carelessly that it is nearly impossible to glean any further information from the page. At most, the words "Ilithi", "sands", and "patterns" seem to appear more than once in the lines that remain.
