YISUN sat with the Attendants one day in the twentieth palace of Bone and Silver. There was a great feast laid out and YISUN directed all in attendance to forgo the custom. Black bread and spirits were served, salt was cast upon the throats of the repentant.

YISUN’S attendant IMVTTR was fond of violence and skilled in the art of separating men from their wealth and bodies. He had long hungered after the secret name of God as YISUN’s other disciple Aeshma had, but the sorry and torn sight of Aeshma’s pus weeping eyes had dissuaded him. At this feast he attempted through other means to coax some secret and dread knowledge from the universal King.

‘Oh master of masters,’ asked he, as the salt came around, and plucking absent strings upon his glyphic quorric and palming his flayer he spoke a bird into the air which sang a singular song and dissipated.

‘What is the great art known to your royal mind?’ sang the bird.

YISUN smiled in the third way for this question was anticipated for a long time.


IMVTTR spent three centuries trying to learn the equivalency of this utterance and resigned to hermitude where he went mad.

– The Song of Maybe