The Oculum Amberis
“It shows all things, even those that beg not to be seen. The eye opens yours, and the world becomes unbearable.”
There are artifacts that whisper warnings in their very shape, things which the eye recognizes as peril even before the mind dares to name them. Among these is the Oculum Amberis, a single green human eye, its iris shining like the depths of a forest, entombed within a lump of golden amber. The optic nerve dangles like a coiled serpent frozen in resin, as though waiting to lash out once more. It is said that the eye still watches, restless, eager to show mortals what ought to remain hidden. The relic grants the gift of clairvoyance, to those who dare hold it, an ability that pierces falsehood in all its forms, shatters illusion, unveils the hidden layers of the world where spirits and shadows walk unseen. Yet the blessing carries a curse most grievous, for what is seen cannot be unseen, and the Oculum does not grant the power to look away if used for too long. Many a wielder has found themselves staring into an endless parade of horrors; Friends revealed as monsters, priests cloaked in invisible sin, swarms of unseen spirits pressing close to mortal flesh with ravenous hunger on their faces. To activate the artifact, one must hold it within their hand, then speak aloud the words “Let me see,” where upon the amber glows like candlelight and the truth is unveiled. To end its power, the wielder must utter the command “Let me see no more.” But those who linger too long within its gaze risk never finding peace again. The eye grows insatiable, forcing you to see, denying its wielder even blindness, forcing visions even when the eyelids are clenched tight or their eyes are outright removed, until seizures wrack the body and the mind collapses under a deluge of truths no soul was meant to carry. Kaelan, a monk of the Avian and renown philosopher, was driven mad by the constant visions, died shrieking "let me see no more" until his cries became desperate whispers through a mouthful of blood; He would at the end claw out his his own eyes, while the amber’s glow refused to dim. This is the legacy of the Oculum Amberis, a gift that promises illumination, yet more often leaves behind a trail of broken minds, blind husks, and souls pursued unto death by the things they dared to see.Mechanics & Inner Workings
The Oculum grants its wielder the rare and terrible power of true sight. With it, no disguise holds, no glamour deceives, no spirit hides behind a veil. The world becomes an open wound of revelation, layered with truths often better left buried. To see a liar’s words peel away from their lips as smoke, or to watch a friendly smile slip into a predator’s snarl, is to know both liberation and despair. Most perilous of all, the relic unveils the world of spirits, shades, demons, and watchers otherwise unseen. To gaze upon them is to invite their gaze in return, for spirits resent mortals who trespass upon their secrecy. The dangers of overuse are profound. The wielder may find the visions will not cease even after speaking the dismissal, the world remaining a palimpsest of horror overlaying the mundane. The eye punishes hesitation; each prolonged glimpse risks blindness, seizures, or a fatal collapse into shock. Wielders speak of dreams overtaken by sight, of sleeping with closed eyes yet seeing still, of vision that devours even silence.
The Oculum Amberis is an irregular rectangular mass of golden amber roughly the size of a clenched fist, within which a human eye floats intact, preserved against the ages. The iris is a vivid green, the natural color of life-like eyes still common among lineages of Humans in Everwealth. When dormant, it has the dull and unsettling stillness of a corpse’s relic. When invoked, however, the amber burns with an unnatural glow that cuts like a lantern through the darkened veil. The optic nerve trails visibly within the amber, twisting and writhing, preserved as though in a gesture of frozen movement. To hold it is to feel watched, as though the eye peers back into the soul as intently as it peers outward.
Manufacturing process
The manner of its making is uncertain, though theories abound. Researchers among The Scholar's Guild suggest the eye once belonged to a seer whose power of Divination magicks was bound into an artificially created amber, believed artificial due to the amber's unnatural shape, preserving not only the organ but the seer's power of magickal sight within. Others whisper that the amber itself was alchemically treated to preserve the essence of vision based magick itself, binding voice and sight into a potent relic. Whatever the truth, the invocation phrases suggest a deliberate enchantment woven with speech, the maker intending control. If so, they underestimated the hunger of what they created, for the amber’s voice-binding fails as often as it holds, and the relic no longer obeys command with certainty.
History
The artifact is believed to date from the late Schism, when secrets were weaponized as fiercely as steel. In those years, lies and subterfuge plagued the land as much as fire and wars, and some desperate survivors sought a weapon to pierce through these lies like a knife in the back. For a time, the Oculum Amberis became the terror of courts, for it could strip away illusion and falsehood with brutal swiftness. Yet its utility soon turned to horror, as judges and other users like explorers or researchers were unmade by truths too-many to bear, their private failings laid bare to the pitiless light of politics. The relic vanished in 399 CA, perhaps stolen, perhaps hidden away by The Arcane Coalition or even destroyed, only to resurface in scattered tales across the centuries. But each sighting ends the same way, its wielder ruined, their mind broken by truths, their corpse a warning to the next seeker of unclouded sight.
Significance
To philosophers, the Oculum Amberis stands as a symbol of fatal desire for perfect truth. It embodies both the hunger to know and the inevitable destruction that follows when one peers beyond mortal limits. Folklore across Everwealth speaks of it as the “eye that never closes,” a proverb warning against insatiable curiosity. Among the Arcane Coalition, its very existence is used as a cautionary tale, proof that even seemingly benign magick carries ruin if unbound by restraint.
Creation Date
Unknown
Destruction Date
Possibly 399 CA, but no confirmation has been found, the artifact has disappeared entirely since the date despite previously being well-documented.
Rarity
It is utterly unique, a relic that defies duplication in this day and age. To appraise its value is to misunderstand it, for no coinage, no Capras, no kingdom could purchase what it offers, or what it demands.
Weight
Approx. 0.9 kg (2 lbs).
Dimensions
Amber lump: 12 cm (5 in) across, irregular, rectangular
Base Price
Many folk died across history to see this artifact change hands, its price nigh-immeasurable in the right hands.
Raw materials & Components
- Human green eye of unknown origin.
- Amber laced with alchemical preservatives, perhaps artificially made.
- Binding enchantments keyed to phrases.
Tools
The manufacture of the Oculum Amberis would have required a blend of alchemical precision and ritual cruelty. The eye itself had to be removed, most likely with a ritual dagger or needle prepared for sacrificial use. Once taken, the optic nerve and eye were likely suspended somehow in molten resin using crucibles and glass retorts designed for delicate alchemical sealing as the common theory suggests, preserving the organ without cooking or rupturing it. The activation phrases, “Let me see” and “Let me see no more”, were woven into the artifact by way of voice-binding rites using the magick school of Enchantment, in which the maker likely used charms or enchanted-tools to trap spoken words and fix them within the amber's magicks. Thus the tools required were not merely physical, crucibles, needles, and glass instruments, but also ritual implements for the binding of the words, a synthesis of craft and magick that left behind an artifact both delicate and dreadful.
Comments