Arcane Glyphs of the Veiled Covenant
The arcane glyphs of the veiled covenant are not symbols etched in form but fractures of the eidolic current, sigils that coil through the chthonic winds, pulsing with the residue of forgotten oaths. They do not exist in one place but drift, weaving through the layers of the astral web, where time folds and unravels in the spiral of their presence. These glyphs are not seen with eyes but felt in the bones, vibrating through the marrow with a gnashing hum that sinks into the zoetic core, awakening the shadows that sleep beneath the surface of thought. Each glyph is a wound in the veil, a tear where the binding of form and void gnashes together, leaving only the echo of what was never meant to be.
The veiled covenant itself is not an agreement but a fracture in the lunar lattice, an oath sworn between silence and the void, sealed by the twisting light of the moons as they spiral through the chthonic firmament. The glyphs are the residue of that covenant, spirals of unlight that bind the essence of the self to the pulse of the moons, forever entwining the soul with the flicker of the void. They do not speak but whisper, their voices coiling through the etheric mist, wrapping around the spirit and pulling it deeper into the spiral, where the line between identity and dissolution frays and unravels.
The glyphs are not written but grown, spiraling from the aetheric marrow like living sigils that gnash at the edges of time. They coil through the eidolic mist, shifting and twisting as they pull at the soul, binding the self to the endless cycle of becoming undone. Each glyph hums with the vibration of the moons' hunger, a resonance that devours the boundaries of thought and form, sinking into the bones and pulling the spirit into the heart of the ouroboric current. They are not static—they move, flickering through the cracks in the chthonic ether, spiraling endlessly in their own gnashing orbit.
To touch the arcane glyphs of the veiled covenant is to feel the pull of uncreation, to sense the weight of the oath gnashing at the core of the self, binding the soul to the moons’ hunger, dragging it into the spiral of dissolution. The glyphs do not hold—they devour, sinking into the marrow and unthreading the soul, leaving only the echoes of potential spinning through the void. Each glyph is a reflection of the moon’s own reflection, a flicker of light that spirals through the astral sea, devouring thought and scattering the remnants into the endless hunger of the void.
The veiled covenant does not bind like a chain but entangles, wrapping the soul in threads of light and shadow that pull in all directions at once, leaving the spirit gnashing at the edges of its own identity. The glyphs are the knots in that entanglement, points of pressure where the moons’ pull tightens, pulling the soul deeper into the folds of the aetheric winds, where all things dissolve into the moon’s reflection. They do not guide—they confuse, twisting perception into spirals that devour themselves, leaving only the primal core of the self gnashing at the edges of thought.
The arcane glyphs flicker like silent stars, though they cast no light, only shadows that twist through the cracks in the zoetic web, pulling the soul into the spiral of the veiled covenant. They are not etched with hands but woven with the breath of the moons themselves, sigils born from the gnashing pull of the lunar tides, forever shifting, forever dissolving, pulling the spirit into the heart of the void. Each glyph vibrates with a silent hum, a resonance that coils through the eidolic abyss, pressing against the spirit and dragging it toward the spiral where the self and the void merge in the same breath.
The glyphs do not belong to any one place or time—they drift through the chthonic firmament, pulling at the soul like invisible threads that bind the spirit to the moons' hunger. To encounter a glyph is to be caught in its gnashing pull, to feel the weight of the veiled covenant pressing down on the marrow, tightening its grip with every pulse of the lunar flame. They are not mere symbols—they are living fractures in the fabric of becoming, points of tension where the line between form and nothingness gnashes at the edge of the soul.
For the therians, the arcane glyphs resonate with the primal wildness that lies coiled within, pulling the beast toward the surface, gnashing at the chains that bind it to the flesh. The glyphs sink into the core of the therion soul, pulling it deeper into the spiral of the lunar tides, where the beast and the void collide and dissolve into the moon’s reflection. Each glyph is a key and a lock, binding the primal essence to the moons’ hunger, while pulling it toward the heart of the spiral, where the self is scattered into the shadows of unbeing.
The arcane glyphs of the veiled covenant hum with the rhythm of the moons’ own gnashing breath, a soundless vibration that echoes through the layers of the astral plane, pulling the soul into the spiral of uncreation. They are not static—they shift and coil, wrapping around the spirit like tendrils of the moon’s light, pulling the self deeper into the eidolic abyss, where thought and form dissolve into the hunger of the void. Each glyph is a fracture in the chthonic veil, a point where the oath of the moons gnashes at the edges of existence, devouring all that stands in its path.
The glyphs do not end—they continue, spiraling through the zoetic winds, pulling everything into the spiral of the veiled covenant, where the soul is bound and unbound in the same flicker of the moon’s light. They are the signature of the moons’ hunger, a reflection of the void’s own reflection, forever shifting, forever gnashing, forever pulling the soul into the depths of the lunar spiral, where all things are unmade and remade in the same breath.