Ys Talovar Home of Calamitas
The ice never sleeps—because what lies beneath it dreams of waking."
This compendium is not complete. It will never be. But it is mine, and it is yours, and it is Ys Talovar's—what’s left of her.
I have gathered what I can. Transcripts from half-burned libraries. Recipes passed down through six wrong tongues. Newspaper clippings that still smell like ink and ash. Every scrap, every sketch, every name someone cared to write down. Not to rebuild the past, which would be a lie. But to hold up a candle and say, look—this is where we are. This is what we still have. And maybe, if we’re lucky, what we might become.
Ys Talovar cracked. But cracks let light through. That’s what I’m hoping for.
—Arch Scholar Aneas, in The compendium of information