Eye-Draught
Before time held any meaning, before the gradients of perception solidified, there existed only the Chroma. A boundless, iridescent essence, the Chroma flowed, not as a river, but as a consciousness. It dreamt of reflection, of duplication, of the very act of seeing. And from this dreaming, the first Eye-Draughts were born. Not as physical entities, but as echoes within the Chroma, shimmering fragments of potential vision.
These initial Draughts were chaotic, unpredictable. They manifested as fleeting colors, distortions in the flow, and whispers of forgotten sights. Some say they were drawn to moments of profound emotion – a lover's sigh, a warrior's rage, a child's innocent wonder. Each emotion served as a catalyst, pulling a Draught from the Chroma and anchoring it to the nascent reality.
Over millennia, beings evolved who could consciously manipulate the Eye-Draughts. These were known as the Collectors – individuals attuned to the Chroma’s rhythm. They didn’t ‘capture’ the Draughts; rather, they cultivated relationships with them, learning to guide their flow and harness their power. The Collectors weren't driven by ambition or conquest. Their goal was to achieve ‘Perfect Resonance’ – a state where their own perception aligned flawlessly with the Draughts they held.
The Collectors employed intricate rituals, utilizing crystalline structures and sonic patterns to amplify the Draughts’ influence. They built vast observatories, meticulously charting the shifting patterns of the Chroma. Legend speaks of the ‘Grand Loom,’ a device said to weave the Draughts into complex tapestries of reality, allowing the Collectors to alter the course of events, though always with a delicate, almost mournful grace.
The pursuit of Perfect Resonance proved a perilous endeavor. Each Draught, once engaged, demanded a constant exchange – a portion of the Collector’s own awareness. Over time, the Collectors faded, becoming increasingly translucent, their memories fragmented, absorbed entirely by the Draughts they housed. Their bodies, once vessels of incredible power, crumbled into dust, leaving only faint, shimmering traces within the Chroma.
Now, only a handful of Draughts remain, adrift in the currents of reality. They manifest as glitches in the world – moments of impossible color, echoes of forgotten faces, and disorienting shifts in perspective. Some say they are waiting for a new Collector, someone capable of understanding their silent plea: “Return us to the Chroma. Release us from this perpetual, fractured reflection.”
“The eye is not the window to the soul, but the lens through which the Chroma perceives itself.”
The fragments of the Scroll, recovered from the ruins of a Collector’s observatory, speak of a cyclical nature to the Eye-Draughts. Each collection, each attempt at resonance, inevitably leads to decay and dispersal. It is a dance of creation and destruction, a constant ebb and flow within the Chroma. The question isn’t whether one can achieve Perfect Resonance, but whether one should even try. For in seeking to control the reflection, one risks losing the very essence of seeing.
Furthermore, the Scroll hints at a 'Source Draught,' a primordial fragment lost even before the Collectors emerged. Its location is described only as “where the dark meets the brightest shade,” a location shrouded in paradox and guarded by echoes of forgotten realities. Seeking it might be the ultimate gamble, a desperate attempt to reverse the decay, or a path to an even greater, more terrifying, consequence.