Matters of Death, Eshanic Resurrection, and the Afterlife

Death is an inevitable stage of life among the Eshanic races. The moment an olûndari is born, the Eshara which provides their living energy begins to drain. First it builds them to strength in youth, then sustains them as decay and age grind them to bone. However, death might be delayed indefinitely if Eshanic entities apply constant power to an olûndari body. After all, aging and inevitable demise are direct products of Eshanic energy depleting within olûndari life. Eshara halts that aging process and preserves the body in precisely the same state.   In the times prior to the First Feud and Kovûnkal, matters regarding death and the passage of Eshanic esseythu meant little to Ácolitus and his children. The essence of departed Eshan simply scattered into Vussalas and Esha without direction or meaning. This exchange of power was therefore universal and evenly divided. This acceptable status quo changed during the First Feud, when Eshan began creating olundi and the energy of these olundi became destined to recycle into their master. Now the Eshan who commanded the most olundi could command the most power, and with sufficient time overpower their Eshanic siblings. This was unacceptable among such competitive creators.   The new status of death was a calculated means of dividing and bolstering power among the Eshan precluded the concept of an afterlife in reality. What purpose might eternal life in spirit serve? None, so long as olûndari essence remained a significant aspect of Eshanic balance of power. Ácolitus regarded the mere concept a superfluidity and demanded the consistent flow of Eshanic energy as stipulation of Kovûnkal. The message was clear. Morality was allowed to proliferate after the First Feud, but these creations were perceived as nothing more than extensions of the Eshan’s own machinations for primacy.   The common understanding of existence after death among the Eshanic races is something known as the Eternal Peace. When spiritual essence departs from the body, it travels to Kovûl for judgement by Ácolitus the creator. This is universally accepted theological fact. Those olûndi who are devout and chosen by their Eshanic masters combine powers with the deity and bind themselves permanently. The Eshan increase strength while the olûndari experiences Eternal Peace and final rest. This said, what is the Eternal Peace? The exact sensation is difficult to articulate and authoritative accounts on the matter are scarce. It is a state of feeling rather than a state of being. Once embraced by the Eternal Peace, the olûndari loses every manner of sentient sense. They are enveloped by pure ecstacy and bliss beyond measure.   The priviledged and pampered reader might wonder where grim death fits into the mural. Is there no merciful realm above realms offered to those infinite olûndari wretches who live and die? Sanctums like Vussalas bearing its imolûndari Eshor are dreamt and whimsically envisioned as Paradise. Indeed, paradise is a concept often recounted in myth, especially among the Etayen who were first knowledgable of divine matters. They speculated that enigmatic Voryndal, to which Atûn referenced in relation to Eshanic lore, was the physical manifestation of some paradise. They were incorrect. Death is an abstract place beyond Esha. Yet, it is not ensnared by material laws.   Life after death is regarded with fear among olûndi, since it acts in direct opposition to the Eternal Peace which passage into Vussalas offers. Who would desire to remain in a world which suffers? The Eshan fight in the heavens, and the olûndi battle upon Esha. Disease runs rife among them. Cruelty and ignorance are unavoidable elements of life. The most the living might hope to achieve is relative peace for themselves and their kin, the support of their deity, and a swift death one distant day. The bleak pursuit of life, therefore, is to secure its least terrible end.   In between death and the artificial exchange of Eshanic power arbitrated by Ácolitus exists a powerful glimmer of emphemeral life. For a few moments, the olûndari essence is freed while traveling between the corpse and Kovûl. This transitional period might seem insignificant, but the state of being caught between Olûllosia and divinity allows unique breaches of traditional laws. For Corgastor, his death and spiritual departure allowed Aebaster to sacrifice immense Eshara to uplift him to divine power. It was ingenious, for Corgastor was beyond the olûndari limitations of Eshanic energy due to their worldly frame but free from the judgement and control of the creator. One might describe it as the ultimate freedom, unburdened by all considerations, pain, or thought.   Speaking on this brief but potent moment, there is something to be noted regarding the esseythu and its properties. A remnant of the deceased person remains alive within that Eshanic esseythu. This is because the esseythu which rises is the Eshanic element independent from Ácolitus’ omnipresence, the reasoning mind as it might be known, leaving behind the corpse. Everything including personality and memories are stored within that celestial container, pondering and sensing without eyes to see nor ears to hear. These realities are important when considering another facet of death- returning to life.   While Eshanic energy can be sacrificed to uplift a desceased spirit, it might also be utilized to return olûndi to life. This is an inperfect process, however, and carries several strict stipulations. Foremost among them is time. Once the Eshanic esseythu reaches Kovûl for judgement, resurrection is impossible. Ácolitus does not relinquish the essence of the deceased willingly, for this undermines his own powers and the balances which exist between the Eshan. Unfortunately for olûndi, Ácolitus with his Celestial Gate is not the sole being to convince on the merits of resurrection. This is not a universal truth, and the significant power required for resurrection might be denied. Corgastor, Atûn, Mesian, Aebaster, or any other Alor’eshan or Ebal’eshan can stymie the resurrection process regardless of the desires of olûndi or the later willingness or denial of Ácolitus.   Beyond the capricious actions of the Eshan, there are more mundane conditions to resurrection. The most significant is the context of death and the quality of the body. Without this requirement met the process is impossible. The olûndari body must can receive life with stability, lest the fellow perish immediately after resurrection. An elder whose olûndari coil has aged beyond sustainability would be a poor choice, for example. Their life is unquestionably limited, and they would certainly die soon thereafter. Those with hideous wounds or dismemberments stand similarly poor chance of survival after resurrection. The body must be capable of receiving the renewed essence.   The closest state of sentient existence to an eternal afterlife is upon Kovûl, where Ácolitus maintains select essences for later purposes. These spirits remain enraptured within the energy of the celestial gate, spiritual eyes turned toward the olûndari world below.   The Naarstor venerated by the Vestanir, Karthuuzar, and other primarily Aemar ancestor worshippers is an uncertain middle-ground between conscious life and the Eternal Peace. Acolitus created it as a response to Aemardic appeals for a special place to venerate their dead, separate from the Eshan of which they knew quite little then. It went by a different, more ancient name but has remained the same in substance. For the afterlife, this source is the sole place from which common olundi might return as Eshanic spirits. In no other way can this be done, for elsewise only the Eshan can invest power to bring forth olundi- only from where they are preserved, either from Kovul or immediately after death. This means that the spirits of the Naarstor (or whatever name it goes among a people) can descend to offer assistance to the faithful. The weakness to this extraordinary power is that these Eshanic spirits, untethered from Eshanic will, are extremely weak to Eshanic power. If destroyed in such a way they cannot be recovered, and thus the Naarstor often keeps distant from Eshanic agents.   The only exceptions to the aforementioned rules are circumstances which Ácolitus deem significant beyond simple olûndari affairs. This withholding upon Kovul is known as Zoleveythu, or the Eternal Dream. It costs considerable power for Acolitus to maintain such Esseythu on Kovul, for only his power keeps them alive rather than personal Eshara. Time continues to pass within such boundaries, for nothing can manipulate time, but its meaning degrades over long centuries, such that decades become days. One might speak with Acolitus at length or with other Esseythu caused in Zoleveythu, but little else. Great enlightenment might be derived therein, but matters are never so simple. The corpses degrade in Esha below. Life cannot be restored to a vessel which is incapable of receiving life. The machinations of Acolitus must be clever. An Esseythu restored to Esha is done so within new body, no different from any other newborn. Yet, fragments of their enlightened wisdom remain within the Esseythu, buried beneath the petty errata of their new existence. Over the coming lifetime, Acolitus must successfully reach out to these reborn olundi and guide them along their intended purpose, whatever it was Acolitus desired.   An ancient example of Acolitus manipulating the final destinations of olundi spirits is the Plea of Noryod, back in the misty after-days of the First Feud. She was one among the Odyrzid race, created for war and abandoned because of the taint of war upon them. They were forsaken by the Ezontach who created them and adopted by no Eshanic master. Noryod looked up toward Vussalas and plead to Acolitus that their suffering ought to be worth something. What did they earn for fighting against Aebaster and his rebels beyond suffering? Was Acolitus unable to reward his allies? The Creator was unwilling to have his reputation tarnished again in the shadow of such a miserable defeat.   “In a place of dreams my people were born, innocent and silent. The roar of battle was thrust into their breath. A blood of hot temper was boiled with them. They knew no wars and bore no hatreds, but in a moment before wisdom was imbued with them an enemy was chosen. Beneath splintered trees, over streams of Esha’s Blood did we fight, and die, and kill. More were slain than live today, though bitter memories burden us unknown them. How can we honor our Creator- what gifts are we thankful to gain? Our life was not given by you, nor a cause won for you. Everything remembered is sorrow. Generations will turn away and say Acolitus is evil- unless a gift is passed among us worthy of our suffering!”   Noryod to Acolitus The First Lamentation – The Gathering Era   Acolitus heard these words of Noryod, and acted at the very boundaries of his abilities, as he was to do again on later occasions. He took aside those most worthy Odyrzid who perished from then onward, and said to them- “do you wish to guard your race in my name, as the First and Last gift to your people”? The majority accept, while the minority are allowed to embrace the Eternal Peace above. Those who accepted were returned to Esha with Acolitus’ power to guard the burial places and domains of Magyagardu, which in the ancient days after the Feud were continent-spanning. They were known in the Odyrzid tongue as Mayadzar or, simply, warriors of Magyagardu. With these shades and the warriors of the Odyrzid Dokaoyum, the lesser races and upstarts of Othos were kept suppressed.   Yet, the growth of Aebaster and the other Alor’eshan undermined the dominion of Magyagardu, such that it was cut down and reduced to settled lands. The Odyrzid spirits held less sway, and more dead decided to embrace the Eternal Peace rather than watch over a homeland gradually bastardized to ruin. In modern years, the only places to boast the original landscape of Magyagardu was the Golbesh in southern Othos, but it’s Odyrzid population was small and largely driven away. The Mayadzar who still dwell in the Golbesh under Acolitus’ power are few and far between, reflective upon a past glorified and lost to them.   A later example was the Neyasi conflict during the 1400s, when the Nith’eshan Nhyrshan returned to combat the sisters Orduza and Syhlshei. He was defeated but survived. Yet, his mere continued existence created tensions among the Eshan. His status as Nith’eshan prompted the involvement of Ácolitus, but the recent rebellion of Tyrphos left his olûndari capacities weakened. He agreed to store the essence of six deceased olûndi upon Kovûl, which is precedented for other, more esoteric purposes, in case Nhyrshan returned after defeat. This was unorthodox, but a necessary concession for the time. Prophecies were created around the subject, but in a universe without fate these folklore musings were simple olûndari interpretations of complex Eshanic dealings which were impossible to comprehend with such limited knowledge. This deal brokered for resurrection was completed in the early 3000s, when Nhyrshan did return as expected. Ácolitus returned the spirits some 20 to 40 years in advance, which is significant times for olûndi but nothing but preparation time for the cautious and calculating Eshan. When the time for battle arrived, these reincarnated spirits were of sufficient Eshanic development to combat Nhyrshan and defeat him, satisfying all parties concerned.   Yet, the selection of certain esseythu by Ácolitus introduces an interesting question- how are the energies of esseythu weighed, and is there differing value? Yes, not all olûndari esseythu are equal. Few among the many are extraordinary in the potency attached to them. This makes them attractive for power-hungry Eshan and exalted among their fellow people. The most common means for this evolution to occur is constant interaction with Eshanic power, namely that which flows through an individual. For example, praying to an Eshan and being answered leaves some residual Eshanic power in the faithful which lingering. Those who request and receive Eshara directly are richer in energy still. This concept of increasingly powerful olûndari esseythu is known as energy collapse and features directly in the power of esseythu in the afterlife.   The Eight Judgements   Regarding the passage of the death, there is something universal worthy of special note here. It is known as the Eight Judgements, and it is the immediate 8 Breaths of time which follow an olundi death. One who will one day die, which is everyone beneath the Eshan, should understand this process to better prepare themselves for the inevitable.   What does it mean, 8 Judgements? It speaks to the 8 Eshor of Kolura which Acolitus created in the earliest moments of existence in Vussalas. Each of them possesses a unique character in Eshanic mythology, such that they have long ago transcended as mere signs of beauty into moral definitions. Here, remember the names and titles of each of these Eshor:   Ime/Daranies Semeres/Xhal Jur/Neno Orese/Tyries   These translate to:   Intervention/Restraint Faith/Clarity Fraternity/Opportunity Compassion/Cunning   When one dies, they are lifted up as Esseythu to Kovul where Acolitus has a final “conversation” with them. During this conversation Acolitus asks that olundi how well they have attended to Kolura, and whether they have acted in a manner which befits their star, or in a manner of strong character. He shall hear them, no dictate to them, for Acolitus cannot see everything at all times, and therefore does not KNOW the full accounting of an olundi life. They speak for themselves as best as possible while Acolitus does listen- it can take some time, and he must often hear the stories of many. When the whole accounting of one’s life is said to the olundi’s pleasure, Acolitus takes his final judgement based off the 8 Eshor of Kolura then passes that olundi onto the next life.   Here is an example of an unorthodox conversation, one which does NOT take the 8 Judgements into account, but is simply an olundi’s poor esteem for life so corrected:   ~ “Walk me beyond the Sunset.”   + “But you’ve only just arrived.”   ~ “And I think I’ve had enough.”   + “You? You who have seen so little? Enough?”   ~ “My whole life’s been a great waste. I’ve dreamed for nothing! I’ve worked for nothing! I’ve suffered insults for nothing! I patiently bore it all for what? Nothing! One day you must look at yourself and know that you’ve failed. I end my torment here.”   + “Ah, shame. Anything else?”   ~ “Else?”   + “You are not the first to die, nor to burn with such self-loathing hatred. It is your right to stand before your Maker for a moment. It is my duty to listen. Do I owe you more?”   ~ “I am owed a swift and painless exit! I was dragged into this world against my will. I didn’t ask for it. Who set me up? Who’s tricked me into living this absurd farce?”   + “Eh, your parents who hoped for someone better, I suppose.”   ~ “Their ‘life’ was not living at all! Work, kick the dirt, sleep again. Repeat it! Every aching muscle burned for the benefit of unthankful masters. We pretend to like it! For what? They ate the fruits of life while we tended the weeds.”   + “We all work.”   ~ “Your work is not my work. You reign eternal while I rot like a crabby apple.”   + “You know that’s not fair.”   ~ “Why not?”   + “You too were born as the dream of another- remember your parents. They held you tight in their arms and said my prayer, ‘the world’s in shadow, four hands to clear the path and two hearts to light the way.’ Did they ever fail you?”   ~ “They were never around much.”   + “Did they have another choice?”   ~ “They had a whole lifetime to make choices. They were smart enough, strong enough. The problem is that they never tried to be anything! They never became anything. I always asked them about the future- they would only tell me about the next season.”   + “Do you consider that some type of failure?”   ~ “It’s got no substance! It’s living life hollow, like a tool being used until it’s broken.”   + “But they did it for you!”   ~ “They could have done a lot more if they tried.”   + “And did you do anything for them?”   ~ “Plenty! I was becoming too much like them- that’s how I knew my life was over.”   + “Then your life was over? Strange. How did it end?”   ~ “Please don’t. I can’t suffer it again.”   + “Were you ill?”   ~ “No.”   + “Was it an accident?”   ~ “Not an accident.”   + “Were you killed then?”   ~ “In a manner of speaking.”   + “Murdered? You haven’t got the temperament of a soldier killed in battle.”   ~ “If you call it murder, then the killer has been brought before justice.”   + “Now I shall judge him?”   ~ “I suppose so.”   + “Then tell me how this crime was committed.”   ~ “Alone. Walking down an old horse path beside the river. I followed it until the river passed by an abandoned village. The place was inseparable from the wilderness, but I found an old grove of trees which stood out from the rest. I found names carved into the trees there, and things dangling from the branches. All of them were memories and offerings. They were long dead and no gifts could keep them alive. I realized that for all my efforts I would be the same one day. Failed. Dead. Forgotten. I couldn’t bear to go back home. I sat against a tree with my belt knife and now I’m ready to pass along.”   + “Let me ask. What did you want from this failed life?”   ~ “To create something beautiful! I wanted to create art- something so rich that one’s heart would stop in their throat to see it. The feet would halt still in the streets. The stars would reveal new patterns and the sun would rise a more vibrant hue. I arose every morning with the dream of it pounding in my head. My muscles ached for it. I could taste it on the air. It was my courtship with destiny though I had never met her.”   + “I was once an artist myself, but no less a failure. You may not appreciate it. You are the newcomer and I am only the lonely gatekeeper. Yet, all the ugliness which you describe as “failed life” was the morbid decay of MY dream. I created the light. Your deities are my children. I built for them the mountains as your father built your bed. I knotted the tree boughs between my fingertips as your mother wove your blankets.”   ~ “I know. You have created the dawn and the dew. The ember sunset and the ocean glass are yours alone. Each droplet which thaws from the snow peaks and ventures to the nesting pools is your subject. You and I are nothing alike!”   + “What do the dawn and dew mean to you? You pretend to admire beauty but hate yourself- there is no more scathing review of my work! My music you call monotony. My hopes you call despair. Here you are now! My life is a worse punishment than death.”   ~ “I don’t understand.”   + “You are everything you love and everything you hate. You are the distilled craftwork of three different makers, each smaller but more precise than the last. How dare you hate yourself? You are the art. You are the sculpture molded to perfection. You are the mountaintop and the nesting pool. You are the embers and the ocean. You are the artist’s brave masterpiece. You cannot love the world and also hate yourself!”   ~ “I have never felt loved like that- not once.”   + “You have, but have banished it from your heart in exchange for loathing. You relish in that, don’t you? Embracing your weakness makes you feel strong. You are no longer just another mediocre dreamer, but a victim of an unjust world.”   ~ “Am I not allowed to suffer?”   + “Suffering is fine. We all suffer. One might even call it a virtue to suffer in silence. But now you seek an audience for it, and I as the audience must respond.”   ~ “So you’re telling me to fuck off?”   + “Call it what you want.”   ~ “Then tell me who is worthy, or do you tell everyone to fuck off?”   + “It is the keeper of the broken fellowship. It is the survivor of the fatal battle. It is the lover with love to give and none to get. It is the parents of the self-slain child. They inherit the Kingdom of Could-Have-Done-More and I am their king. I have met each of them 1000 different ways, 1000 different faces over 10,000 years. Only one truth is common between the living and the dead: “Everything which is beautiful is given away too easily and everything ugly is held too dearly.”   ~ “You think I’ve given away the beautiful?”   + “I do. What a moment it was- so fierce and certain.”   ~ “I just wanted something more in a boring life. Is that too much to ask?”   + “And what have you made?”   ~ “Plenty! Yet... nothing I can show you now.”   + “All I can see is an ugly corpse and an ugly spirit.”   ~ “Well get rid of me then! I can’t bear to fail again and again, forever and ever on.”   + “But that ugliness can be repaired.”   ~ “I can’t bear the shame of it, I can’t look at myself again. I have to pass on!”   + “Soon, but listen to me, you’re only a failure if you refuse to go back.”   ~ “What?”   + “I can afford to give you a small gift.”   ~ “To go back?”   + “Right now, right to where your blood stains the grass.”   ~ “Now that you’ve shamed me? I can’t do that. What if somebody’s found me? What if they’ve brought me home?”   + “Your parents would be relieved.”   ~ “I’d be furious!”   + “Because you treated them unfairly?”   ~ “But I...”   + “You’re not a parent, it’s something you can’t understand.”   ~ “But I don’t deserve it! I’m ruined, hideous! What about all those others you’ve met?”   + “They arrive without much to say. The keepers just want the warmth; the survivors don’t want to be lonely; the lovers want the attention, and the parents want the reunion. Precious few ask to stay. You? You haven’t got any business beyond the Sunset.”   ~ “Now I haven’t got any business back home either.”   + “How would you know? You’re an incomplete soul. Everything can be your business, depending on what you’re looking for.”   ~ “And what should I be looking for?”   + “You love what I love, yet have sought it out in the wrong places. Go back to all the places you’ve ignored. Explore! That’s the difference between you and I. I am trapped forever and you were born free. You have a chance. Take it! Go back and find the beauty. Seek it in those who love you. Seek it in my world. Seek it in yourself. You will find it in small parts in many unlikely sources.”   ~ “Seek out the love? Perhaps you’re right, maybe you’re not, but I haven’t got the heart for it. I’m just tired. I don’t need your gift- I don’t want it.”   + “I urge you to reconsider, listen to my words.”   ~ “No, I cannot, my visit here was not planned lightly. I have a place to be.”   + “You are not prepared for it.”   ~ “Yes I am! Let me pass!”   + “Then I am not prepared for it.”   ~ “What? No! It’s not fair, you’ve made your point and now you must let me go!”   + “I will not allow you to go further, but will let you stand in the cold.”   ~ “Why? Why! Give me a reason! Give me peace… I just want peace.”   + “It wouldn’t be right, not now. You haven’t earned a place in the warmth.”   ~ “Is this some sick curse? A twisted trick? You gave me life but refuse me death!”   + “This is the gift.”   ~ “This is it? Trapped here? I wanted a swift exit! I wanted to go! Nothing else I’ve ever asked but now you lock me here to wax philosophical.”   + “I have a place for you beside me at the fire. It is my role to guide you here somehow.”   ~ “Your role is the Destroyer, a deceiver, it’s your job to cheat. You’re trying to draw me into service, send me back as a servant! Have you ignored my pleas? I said I’m through with masters and I won’t be fooled again.”   + “Again you are unfair. What have I destroyed?”   ~ “Your children, your creations! Me! You bring the famines and the cold. You brought the plagues and the stillborns. You created war and the warriors. You created death and kept it to yourself! Everything which is evil in the world is branded with your mark!”   + “Even the dawn and the dew? Have I built the ember sunset and ocean glass to offend you? Did I thaw the snow peaks and fill the nesting pools to make them suffer?”   ~ “Eh…”   + “So I have made the good and made the evil. What do you call me?”   ~ “The Maker?”   + “An artist! That is all I’ve ever wanted to be!”   ~ “Are you mocking me now?”   + “No, we are just too much alike for you to appreciate. You are me. I am you.”   ~ “I still don’t understand.”   + “I have made the world as one beautiful piece. I molded every valley from the molten flame and carved the rivers with my fingertips. I schemed the blooming of the flowers and the hues of autumn. I spent time upon it. The unmeasured eternity before your existence was passed, dreaming the perfect dream. How might it smell? How does it look? Is it rough or smooth? Does it taste bitter or sweet…”   ~ “And what?”   + “What do you think of it?”   ~ “I have already named the beautiful things- the dawn and dew and all. It is perfect.”   + “I don’t think it’s perfect. I see every blemish. Every smear and misstep is made bold in the raking light of reality. Every moment of reflection is burdened by the regret of what could have been better. Everything great is ugly because it could have been perfect.”   ~ “That does sound familiar.”   + “Answer me then, sorrowful one, will we ever be happy?”   ~ “I want to be.”   + “Will you ever have the chance?”   ~ “I suppose you’re giving it to me.”   + “Then why don’t you take it?”   ~ “I’m afraid, I think.”   + “Of the guilt?”   ~ “To fail again.”   + “Yet you say you’re unhappy and a failure? In your eyes these things have already come to pass. To die now would be to accept it forever, to forsake happiness. It is clear it me. You are not afraid of failure, but of yourself. You’re afraid that I’ll be right- that you’ll go back to living and realize everything was not so bad.”   ~ “Yes, maybe you’re right.”   + “I am right, for you are not the first. Don’t be proud and miserable, but be happy, and it shall be kept a secret until the next time we meet.”   ~ “How can I become happy once I’m there, tell me that at least.”   + “Love your creations. Only then are you an artist. That is why I love you, my doleful masterpiece, because loving you is also to love myself. Loving myself is to at once love the world. Loving the world is the tender summer noon before the sunset of death and the ever-cold night. Bring the warmth so that you may sit with me beside the fire rather than stand in your own bitter cold.”   ~ “I will try, but what if I fail?”   + “Nothing, for you shall see that even in trying lives the happiness, and therein will be your lost love named beauty.”   The Final Chat Realm of Kovul – 800   What is the price of failure? It is difficult to define failure, but most are passed along to the Eshan of their creation or deepest love, joining with them in eternal warmth and joy. That doesn’t sound so bad! Yet those who were miserable in life and achieved nothing, or perhaps failed to uphold ANY characteristic of Kolura might be withheld to live on Kovul as a miserable wretch, or dispatched as Eshanic energy as a messenger of the Creator. In so many words, one might define FAILURE in this case as a void of opportunity, such that a life passes onto the next without so much as a whimper.   What is the reward of success? Opportunity. Acolitus is just as much an actor in Esha and Vussalas as his Eshanic children, and he thus casts a merchant’s eye over the numerous dead. Those who appeal to him during the 8 Breaths of Judgement might be asked to serve in death in some capacity in Vussalas or Esha. This might be upon Kovul itself as a servant or as a watcher in the dark. Others, such as Enkiran (later Tyrphos) might be asked to serve IN LIFE as a Judge of Acolitus or servant to a judge. These individuals not only receive back their lives but elevate themselves to the highest levels of the Eshanic hierarchy, earning for themselves wealth, position, and great retinues.