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187th of First, 1100 A.W. — It’s hard to believe where time can bring us. More than a moon ago, I learned we were not alone. Now, I know that we were not even the first Politans to arrive here. Almost a century before we landed, in the year 1004, After Wisdom, the Heaven’s Sanctuary Ship King’s Maiden left the harbour of the Lower City. It disappeared beyond the ocean’s endless horizon and was never seen again.

Heaven’s Council presumed the Maiden lost at sea. Named after its architect and captain, Ocean King, the Maiden was one of many sea expeditions authorized by the Council. During a violent storm, its sails were damaged, and she became adrift at sea for some time. Most of her crew perished on the voyage, but her captain survived.

Eventually, the Maiden beached on the rocky shores of what later became known as King’s Island. To its east lay the Orange Canyons, where nearly a hundred years later, the HSS Heaven Sails would land. King’s Island was uninhabited when the Maiden arrived. Her surviving crew, no more than a dozen or so men, made a home there for some time. They lost track of time and perhaps remained stranded for years. However, the men held onto their loyalty to their captain, Ocean King. With his help, they built a new, smaller boat, nothing at all to rival the majesty of the Maiden. It was good enough to get them off the island and venture into the canyons in the east.

In the canyons, King and his men discovered a new civilization, the Orange Communion. Back then, the Communion was suffering from a three-way schism. Their society was divided between the Hedonists, the Sadists, and the Ascetics. They all worshipped the Primordial, an ancient subterranean creature of untold size, thought to be the creator of Man and most other life. The Communion saw the Primordial as a god, which they called the First. The Hedonists believed that to worship the First, they must partake in regular rituals of carnal pleasure and strive to enjoy their lives. Happiness, the Hedonists believed, was what the First wanted most for its children. The Sadists were the opposite. They believed that sacrifices involving tremendous pain and suffering were the way to please the First. Lastly, the Ascetics opposed both pleasure and pain. Abstinence from either extreme — moderation — was what they believed would satisfy the First.

Conflict escalated within the Communion into a civil war. In the end, the Sadists triumphed. Hedonist and Ascetic refugees fled the canyons. Ocean King returned with his men back to his island. They helped as many refugees as they could before settling in isolation. Over the decades, they built a civilization of their own, and their numbers stabilized at a thousand. King established a new form of government: democratic sortition. Men of mature age, regardless of background, held a right to be chosen, at random, to participate in the Assembly of their legislature. King declared himself the sovereign for life and retained executive power. What they created became the King’s Republic, ruled by Ocean King under the laws passed by the Assembly. King’s men and their descendants interbred with the canyon’s refugees, forming a new culture of mixed identity. Today, Ocean King has been succeeded by his eldest son, Rock King.

King’s Islanders speak Island Tongue, a blend of Orange Tongue, the native language of the Orange people, and Heavenish, my mother tongue. They write in Heavenish since the Orange lack a written language of their own. Still, they can understand me, and I can understand them — mostly.

To explain what has happened between now and my last journal entry, I’ll start from where I left off. I spent two more nights after the 146th with my scrolls. They then took all my writings. The only way I could track the passage of time was by counting each time they cleaned my quarters, which was always after my last meal. For weeks, I did not see the sun. They never tried to speak with me, but I was treated well. I never saw my crew again.

On the 165th, my captors, who I later learned were devout warriors of the Orange Communion, released me. I felt such great pressure against my eyes when I saw the sun after all that time. The warriors escorted me through more tunnels in the sandstone before we came to a small dock. A ship was waiting for me, the King’s Republic Ship Maiden Rock. Aboard was a crew and some heavily armoured soldiers with blue capes bearing the golden symbol of the Republic, a crown held up by four pillars — with a set of stairs below.

The KRS Maiden Rock is a grand bireme with two decks. Her captain is Stone Fish. We travelled downstream to the sea. There we oared north and spent over a week on the ocean off the coast. It was beautiful watching the Orange Canyons as we passed by. Eventually, on the 177th, we arrived in port in a bay on King’s Island, at their capital, the City of King’s Bay — home to most of the island’s inhabitants. A few other outposts and smaller villages sparsely line the eastern coast of the island.

This is my tenth day on the island. The weather here is slightly cooler, and the breeze has a chilliness to it. The island is rich in limestone, and the Islanders have built most of their homes and the marvellous palaces out of marble. While not as grand as back home, the structures are still extraordinary and, dare I say, more beautiful than what I’m accustomed to.

On our journey downstream aboard the Maiden Rock, I witnessed new horrors and even one creature larger than Many Eyes. The biggest I saw was a massive arachnid (almost the length of the Maiden Rock herself) situated in a tight crevice. The Islanders call this creature a crevinid. Many Eyes itself belongs to a species referred to by the Islanders as legfeeders. Apparently, neither crevinids nor legfeeders are interested in eating Man. The Orange people also revere the giant fauna of the canyons. The other creatures I saw were a large, gaunt reptilian bird with a deep croak cry, called a skystalk, and an aquatic Man-sized insect-like creature called a riversting. The latter, riverstings, are the only dangerous of the creatures, at least to Man. They can paralyze an adult man with the sting from their proboscis. Once paralyzed, they inject acidic saliva into their prey, which dissolves their innards. Once sufficiently dissolved, they use their proboscis to suck out the contents. Their large claws are also a menace and can cut a man’s limbs clean off. I witnessed one feeding on a big fish on the river’s edge against the canyon’s wall. They apparently feed on any animal. The Islanders say not to swim in the rivers of the canyons.

On the voyage to King’s Island, Captain Stone Fish explained that the Republic and the Communion formed an agreement some time ago to stay clear of each other’s territory — not that the Islanders venture very often beyond their own shores. When members of the Communion discovered our group, they suspected we were Islanders attempting an invasion, albeit they were also confused by our presence. The Communion quickly dispatched an emissary to the island with my seized scrolls. I was spared, but the rest of my crewmates, who were not slaughtered in the skirmish, became sacrifices for the First. The captain said they suffered great anguish before their deaths, but he did not care to go into further detail.

The Communion, not desiring a potential conflict with the Republic, arranged for my peaceful departure. I admit it feels wrong that I was spared but not the others. Still, I am grateful. My arrival, especially the information contained in my writings, has caused quite a stir among the Islanders. I’ve already met Rock King and stood before the Assembly. They’re working on updating their own written history with the dates recorded in mine. They are fascinated by our airsails, which existed as mere crude prototypes by the time their ancestors left the Polity. However, they have no plans to attempt a return. The island is their home, and their blood is forever mixed with the people of the canyons. And now, this island, too, is my home.

The End — The Gorge