I swear on my life and on the pattern, Collector-Curator, it was a mistake! A tragedy! A deception! I was misled!
Tel bewitched me. He is a hexer and a conniver, and he put me in step with his quick words and devious gestures. I thought only that the “bard” was providing components for the pattern, not that he would be the traveler himself. If I helped, it was only to remain in my role as your agent and not too quickly reveal my true allegiance. I thought that the gate would remain open long enough for you to see my signal and arrive, but before I could even send it, the boy was gone, violin and mask in hand.
Please, Ferr. I know I’ve failed you. I know that this must be mended—and if you will allow me one more apparitive pattern, I can make it right. But please, please know that my loyalty was never compromised.
This Week on Friends at the Table: A Good Metaphor
Kurr, your loyalty was never in doubt. Only your ability.
They cry out in the streets. They rush to Corsica's banner. Now, more than ever, the people of the archives require something solid, something with weight. We do not need your painted air. We need the original pattern fixed. And if it is too far to touch from here, and too late to "mend it" without your illusions, it is time for me to act—as I should have all along.
I have held the book tight to me for months. It is time I open it. You have a choice: Help me, or stay out of my way.