The following are the first of many examples of literature from the denizens of the Qyo Empire. It is a glimpse into the soul of a plant-based lifeform constantly crushed by the pompous fear cast by the Electric God and his Colossi monoliths.
From A Mother to the One Mother by Vera Lehrmana, 910
I pray to my mother to mend our fraying roots.
For guidance within our chasm shadows
That unity is never lost
Yet strengthened by our family stock
Lest I forget my praise for mother
For our friends in beasts that share in chore
And a home safe within the canyon
Though it begs to ask for a favor
When in deepest desperation.
Blessed be Her healing
After slaughtered by spade
Blessed be, blessed by our Body.
Blessed be our safety
From shade, spade and grate
Blessed be, blessed by our Body.
The First Observation of Stanisla Sage, Rev. 1115
I arrived early in the morning to the Castlepoint,
Now it is a mine, paneled with grate and slates of steel
Yet the ancient spires rest still on the surface.
A colossi finally enters my view as it exits the mine
Pulling a barrow rolling on six wheels encircled with cautchouc
The colossi itself walks on two legs
Its wrists latched to a modular joint at the barrow’s handle
The golem whirred from within but was otherwise silent
It pulled ore from the deep mine
Carried it to a refinery.
The heat of the large furnace cavern was unlivable
So I sketched the scene from afar.
Far ahead on the much-travelled trail were constructs
Towing behind them the steel of Her bosom.
Smoked fumed from within the refinery
Through volcanic chutes hollowed for venting
This creator knows what they’re doing!
At the mouth of the cavern
Massive scales weighed their bounty
Strange symbols emitted its results
The constructs lifted and overturned the barrows
A mountain of ore pulled from Her bosom.
The constructs leave and return in lanes
Running parallel to the road departing
Without rest, they continue down the mine beneath the spires
I have been unnoticed to my best knowledge
It is my belief that it is correct to say
The Colossi can’t walk without a will their one
Thus the Will belongs to the One.
It is thus my goal to seek a genuine source of the One
And that of the Sacred Enemy
That stripped Us of our Oneness.
Does the One of the monoliths
Exist from the death of Us?
Shall we accept that the Voice of Colossus
Wishes to rival their own mind with our Mother’s?
Do we dare accept that these creations
Are a result of a child’s mind?
Will I be banished by suggesting that
The fabled Kahryatt is of cosmic kin?
The crimes against us would never be mended
For my search of faith, I will study the landscape
Robbins, my steed, will be a new brother
There must be a source of communication
My blessings received will warm us
Over the hills of barren.
The Second Observation of Stanisla Sage, Rev. 1119
A band of riders from the homeland
I blessed them with the good Mother’s grace
And in return, I was blessed with a transmitter
That hissed and glided from low to high
I followed the frequency’s path to a discomforting sight
Atop a cliffside facing northwest
The eastern setting light of Her Mind’s Eye
Illuminated a scene of mechanic devoutees
Standing, giving praise to a mountainside sculpture
A city of antennae covering a massive head
Swirling crimson beneath a visage assembly
Pulsing bright, and responding to a strange beauty
The heavens of electricity spark around
The Centermost antenna, piercing the skies
Such a display sent my cells singing
Robbins, my steed, braves the blast
Hundreds of constructs encircling this host
Have been rendered inept for further duty
Their own receptors burst
They all topple over, and small scavengers appear
Efficient tools that reclaim the components
Within an hour, the fallen constructs were decomposed
The Ceremony brought the unexplainable emotion,
Engulfed my senses with frightening noise
The experience sends my godfearing mind
To corners of thought untravelled
Does the Electric God bestow within their creations
A path to devout fulfillment?
Are they instilled with the labors expected
With the promise of a return to electric stillness?
Or rejoin the malleable omniscience of Kahryatt?
The belief of an omnipotent designer
Old as time, and perhaps too simple
For the antennae to burst
During a droneful practice of religious sacrifice
Asks the question of dogmatic dominance of the Host.
Is this ceremony to celebrate the Self
by destruction of the self’s extension?
And the act of recycled components
The metallic organs of the sentinels
This tells me that the Electric God
Destructive though they have shown,
Does not seem to be a wasteful manufacturer
Perhaps they themselves possess
The love for the one true Mother, Her Body.