Imber, the Sorrowful

"O caller of rains, wine-dark mistress,
grant us strength to bear the world's myriad sorrows."

— Prayers to the Seven Foundations

Imber is the High Wolflord of the world's waters. Often called Si'irsa, Yunhai or Sethyr, this goddess is perhaps the closest of Her kind to mortal hearts. As the ruler in endless repose upon an ancient sea, She weeps without ceasing for the sorrows of creation. Death and pain may be our ever-present companions, yet by virtue of the blood She placed in our veins, the Sorrowful grants cleansing to the broken - preparing us for that distant dawn.

All things must return to Her embrace, in the depths of that vast, ancient sea.

Freedom in Mourning: Hoarfrost

"The world is already blighted by frost and despair. My duty is to herald the gentle rain of heaven, and cleanse it of its pain."

— Kiiro Rainbringer, first Harbinger of Imber

Just as water absorbs and diffuses, so is Imber sometimes considered a reflection of Her brethren. Aspira forged the firmament to set bounds upon the heavens; Imber's ocean serves as the borders of the earth. Lapis dealt in the formation of all things; Imber turns His creations into dust and salt. Many have decried this as a rather irreverent model for one of the Sevenfold.

Imber's divine demesne includes water, ice, mourning, erosion, and cleansing. She is the gentle rain that brings life to crops, and the deadly cold that blights them. She is the tsunami, the avalanche, the inescapable wearing down of lands and nations - and yet, She mourns for all that has been lost, and bears only love for mortals within Her heart.

The ocean mages who trace Her flow invariably strive for control, or the lack of it. Some are as hard to constrain as it is to turn back the tides; others simply wish to protect their loved ones from the world's merciless cold. As the great Lady Herself mourns the world, they set out to stem the endless outpouring of sorrow - whether through gentle water, or devouring frost.

Merciful Waters, Wrathful Frost

"Yes, child. She would hear you if you called. Even now, when the heavens have fallen silent."

— Axhal, the Silver Otter, in unusual solemness

They say that rivers are Her tears, and floods Her retribution.

Yunhai is most often worshipped in quiet ways. Water is a constant companion to mortals, and that is where we find Her. Girls kneel by the river to confess their worries and dreams. Farmers pray for rain in droughts, and relief in monsoons. Ships invariably have a small shrine built to Her, to guarantee their safe passage.

Witnesses of the Sorrowful's incarnations - at least, those not overwhelmed by grief - spoke of rivers bursting their banks and oceans stirred into frenzies, of the air itself freezing around Her. The water itself was Her garment, the frost dancing on its waves Her raiment. Even in those brief instants where She appeared, cliffs would be ground down into dust in the waves, and canyons would be carved into plateaus.

Some swore they could see the faces of the dead, floating beneath the water.

If so, it should not be a surprise. All things fall into Her domain at the end.

Aspect of the Wolflord: Katabasis

"To 'go down' or 'descend'? No. Those waters lie at the end of the world, the end of all things. They are not downward, but outward - out unto infinity."

— an emikun philosopher

The sea that Sethyr slumbers on has no name. Nothing seems to stick.

Unusually, it is not beyond reach. Several highly talented mages throughout history have managed to "descend" to its surface, far beyond the world itself. They describe an ocean that stretches on indefinitely, its surface as still and silent as glass. Clouds drown the sky, endlessly spilling rain.

But the rain is nothing so simple as rain.

It is tears and blood, each drop carrying the memory of when it was shed. The wounded, the grieving, the lonely, the dying - for one more moment, their pain is given voice. Then they merge into one, beneath the dark, unmoving waters.

Si'irsa is the great equaliser. All suffering, all woes, are mourned equally beneath Her gaze, even those which the "upper world" forgets. Whether wicked or righteous, wealthy or destitute - the water accepts all. In this way may the world's filth be washed away, and its roots remain unblighted by the cold.

This is the nature of Imber's power: mercy in frost, cleansing in rain.

Mortals drift upon the vast sea of sorrow, their tears soon lost in the depths.