The Commentaries of Manos Cosmatos
In the light of Ysium äe Rued's enduring wisdom, we find ourselves in our late Age — an Age where the laws of the stars, once understood in purely metaphysical terms, have begun to crack and reveal their true nature. We must now contend with anomalies that defy the accepted paradigms of our cosmology, ripples in the fabric of space and time that blur the line between the metaphorical and the literal. These abnormalities, I believe, are the true meaning of the Parable's message, brought to life in our very midst. This is no longer just a story of spiritual wonder; it is a direct interaction with the very structure of existence.
Ysium's meditation that "the stars mirror our souls" must be expanded, for the stars do not merely reflect our inner selves — they are the gateways to other selves. To other worlds. Encounters with these elusive permutations — often mistaken for visions or hallucinations by those who have experienced them — are, in fact, parallel worlds bleeding into our own. They are physical manifestations of the Parable's teaching, revealing that the "Ten Thousand Discs" are not only a figurative journey through our universe, but a literal one. The Parable's protagonist, as he wanders from Disc to Disc, is not simply learning life lessons; he is stepping between worlds, at times treading so close to the edges betwixt them that he is able to catch glimpses of other lives, other realities.
As of the Imperial Year 7789, such glimpses have multiplied in prevalence across the Great Ash. Those who experience them describe contradictory versions of events: alternate futures, alternate pasts — fragments of possibilities, all of them coexisting at once, yet none fully realized. These subjects are left with a sense of strain upon their minds, as if something attempted to break through their narrow perception of reality.
In these glimpses, I see not a simple distortion of the natural order, but an invitation to something more. An encounter with other worlds, while harrowing, offers us an awe-inspiring look into what Ysium referred to as "the eternal cycle of existence." It suggests that the possibilities we perceive as distinct — our own lives included — are in constant flux, brushing against one another in ways we do not fully comprehend. Perhaps this is a chance for us to live out the story of the Parable itself — to learn of the places where one Disc overlaps another, where the boundary between present and future is thinner than we had ever imagined.
Some would argue that such disturbances are harbingers of doom. That the collision of worlds threatens to unravel the fragile balance of our lives. But while such encounters present irrefutable danger, I would urge you to consider the opposite. These moments of revelation, though disorienting, may be a profound gift. That feeling of pressure upon the mind, the sensation of being drawn toward an infinite corridor, is not an intrusion, but an invitation to transcend the boundaries of our own lives.
We have long been confined by the limits of our dying Disc. But in this Age, we are reminded that there is more — far more — than what we can see and touch. The stars, as Ysium suggested, are mirrors of ourselves, but they are also doorways to other truths, other possibilities. The Parable is not just a philosophical allegory; it is actuality. The traveler, the one who seeks to understand, is wandering not only through his own life, but across an infinite number of lives, each one reflecting a piece of the greater whole.
What, then, does this mean for us, for we who still cling to the old ways of storytelling and communal wisdom? We must now look not just within, as Ysium suggested, but outward — toward the stars that surround us. We must recognize that our lives are not isolated; they are part of a spectrum that stretches across space and time. And perhaps, with time and great wisdom, we will learn to traverse this spectrum as the wanderer does in the Parable — not just in our minds, but with our own two feet.
The Parable and its manifestations continue to challenge us, confuse us, and stretch the limits of our understanding. But in our confusion, there is also clarity: we are not alone. Our world is one of many, and the sky above us is a doorway to infinite possibilities. The Parable of Ten Thousand Discs is no longer a myth. It is a prophecy — and we, the wanderers, are only beginning to step through the door.