Strange Knowledge

The condition is transmitted exclusively through consumption. Whether it be enchanted nuts, mystical fish, serpent flesh, or a sip of a cauldron’s brew—to eat or drink the Food of Knowledge is to invite Strange Knowledge into oneself. No rituals, incantations, or blessings are required. Ingesting even a small amount is enough.

The root of Strange Knowledge can be traced to a singular and metaphysically potent ley line—a nexus point connected directly to the Akashic Record, the hypothetical repository of all wisdom, memory, and thought. Any organic matter—plant, animal, or byproduct—that directly absorbs the psychic resonance of this ley line may become a vector for Strange Knowledge if consumed.
  In most known cases, this begins with the Tree of Knowledge, a magical nut-bearing species growing over such a confluence. Its fruit stores trace amounts of Akashic insight, which then pass through ecological chains:
  Dream-Salmon consume the fallen nuts in sacred ponds.
  White Serpents prey on the salmon, concentrating the knowledge further.
  Otherworld bees feed on psychically saturated meadow-flowers that grow near these nexus points, producing honey laced with memory and truth.
  These vectors may become active under specific environmental conditions—notably during leyline storms, dimensional breaches, or ritual seasons like Samhain, when barriers between worlds weaken. Though not microbial in the conventional sense, some scholars have speculated the presence of psionic microflora—a theoretical class of psychic-reactive bacteria or symbiotic neural spores that bind with neural tissue upon digestion.
  Consumption of any such organism or byproduct—even accidentally—can trigger the onset of Strange Knowledge.

Symptoms of Strange Knowledge vary greatly in severity and scope, depending on the potency and purity of the food consumed. Some recipients experience a sudden flood of insight, granting them vast knowledge on topics they have never studied. Others may only receive a single fragment—a peculiar fact, skill, or truth that arrives unbidden.
  Common accounts include:
  The ability to understand animal speech, often limited to a specific type (such as birds, insects, or wolves).
  Sudden inspiration regarding obscure or highly specific fields—like advanced metallurgy, ancient languages, or long-lost herb lore.
  Compulsive ideation, where the afflicted becomes obsessed with expressing or applying the new knowledge, even without understanding why.
  Dreamlike visions of places never visited or events never lived, often connected to the Akashic Record itself.
  Though not always consciously noticeable, even minor cases can leave the recipient changed—haunted by insights that don’t belong to them, or blessed with understanding they never earned.

There is no known cure for Strange Knowledge. Once the insight takes root, it becomes part of the individual—difficult, if not impossible, to unlearn. In some cases, natural forgetfulness or age-related memory loss may dull the effects over time. In rare circumstances, magical or psionic memory-alteration has reportedly suppressed fragments of acquired knowledge, but these methods are unreliable, ethically questionable, and often incomplete.
  Ultimately, those afflicted must learn to live with what they now know—no matter how strange, unwanted, or overwhelming it may be.

The prognosis for Strange Knowledge is generally benign, even desirable in many circles. Those afflicted inevitably gain some form of knowledge—whether trivial, profound, or unsettling—but the condition is non-fatal, non-contagious, and does not progress like a typical disease. There are no formal “stages,” only the initial moment of insight and its lasting consequences.
  Many mystics, scholars, and arcane seekers actively pursue this condition, viewing it as a blessing or rite of passage. For the majority, Strange Knowledge manifests as an enhancement rather than a hindrance—though it may bring existential unease, philosophical obsession, or the disquieting sense of having seen too much.

Strange Knowledge does not produce pathological aftereffects in the traditional sense. It carries no infection, causes no physical degradation, and requires no period of recuperation. The “complications” it introduces are identical to those caused by learning—only accelerated and often uninvited.
  For some, the aftermath is no more jarring than recalling an odd piece of trivia. For others, it may be as bizarre as suddenly understanding how to understand your cats meowing like a second language, or feeling as though you've absorbed an entire book, like War and Peace, without ever opening it. Rare cases report epistemic dissonance—a mental discomfort triggered by knowledge that clashes with the person’s worldview, memories, or sense of identity—but this is more psychological than pathological.
  Ultimately, Strange Knowledge simply makes you know something you didn’t know before. Whether that’s a blessing, a curse, or just weird depends entirely on the knowledge itself.

Strange Knowledge can affect any organic lifeform capable of consuming food or drink—be they mortal, immortal, beast, human, fae, or god. The condition does not discriminate by species, origin, or intellect; all that matters is ingestion. From ancient dragons and divine beings to unsuspecting farmers, scholars, or animals, anyone who consumes a tainted or enchanted source may find themselves touched by sudden insight—wanted or not

Prevention is straightforward: do not consume food or drink touched by Akashic-aligned ley lines or sourced from Otherworld ecosystems. This includes avoiding magical nuts, enchanted fish, serpents known to feed near the Tree of Knowledge, or any byproduct—such as honey, broth, or wine—derived from such beings. While accidental exposure is rare, those seeking to avoid Strange Knowledge entirely would do well to steer clear of food linked to mythic or dimensional origins.
  In short: if it smells like a story, don’t eat it.

Strange Knowledge does not spread through conventional means—it is not infectious, airborne, or hereditary. All known cases arise either through intentional consumption by seekers of wisdom or through complete accidents. There is no population movement, environmental shift, or social behavior that increases transmission—except, perhaps, curiosity.
  That said, outbreaks can occur in rare situations:
  Ley line storms may displace Dream-Salmon or serpents into earthly rivers.
  Dimensional thinnings during solstices or fertility festivals might allow Otherworld foodstuffs to slip into markets or feasts.
  Foragers, mystics, or children may stumble upon enchanted fruit or honey during walks through ancient groves or forgotten meadows.
  Still, such incidents are isolated and unpredictable. Strange Knowledge moves not through population—but through story, luck, and fate.

There are many—perhaps too many—tales of Strange Knowledge appearing across time and culture, with countless undocumented or forgotten incidents scattered through myth and folklore. Its most prominent appearances include the Fenian Cycle, where Fionn mac Cumhaill gains wisdom from the Salmon of Knowledge; the Völsunga saga, in which Sigurd gains understanding from birds after tasting Fafnir’s heart; and the Brothers Grimm, who chronicled the tale of The White Serpent.
  These stories, though culturally distinct, share uncanny thematic parallels and have cemented Strange Knowledge as a recurring mythic condition. Yet no one can say for certain when or where it first appeared—only that it seems to emerge wherever the boundary between the mundane and the mystical wears thin.

Strange Knowledge often goes unnoticed—its effects subtle, mistaken for intuition or sudden genius. But when recognized, it is almost always seen as a gift of great value, particularly in myth and legend. Heroes who acquire it are revered, their newfound insight treated as a mark of destiny or divine favor. From Fionn mac Cumhaill to Odin, who stole the Mead of Poetry, those touched by Strange Knowledge are portrayed as chosen, elevated above mortals by the weight of what they know. Across cultures, the condition is held in the highest regard, a rare and coveted blessing of mind and spirit.