On thick parchment, an ancient book written in sloppy elvish script, occasionally accompanied by simple hand-drawn illustrations. It is extremely lengthy, as if it were composed by different authors over time. The book details the withering of Oraculum, the fall of Golhertarna, and the tragic fate encountered by the elves during their northward migration.
I don't know what happened... the Tree turned white. Now I can hear screams coming from the distance... and the howls of some kind of creature. The sounds are getting closer, they're coming, they've found me... I can't escape...
I'm going to die.
The signature suddenly changed.
Official notice came to us that we should follow the Edoyin River northward, all the way north. I have never stepped out of Southern Erda for even a single step — God knows what is beyond the canyon! The elves' losses were enormous; the fallen lay scattered everywhere, and as we journeyed north we encountered famine, disease, and flooding. The waters of the Edoyin River also turned white. It is said that certain elves who drank from it thereupon lost their memories and souls.
That man is dead — I saw him torn to pieces by some indescribable creature with my own eyes. I picked up his notebook; perhaps I should record these absurd and filthy things. The entire Golhertarna has already been devoured by white, yet the Elizabeths still keeps a tight lip about the truth. Through the buildings I can see the pale branches of the Oraculum… Damn it! What on earth happened…
One step further, and it would be the farthest I've ever been from home. To curb the spread of pallor, we harnessed a certain magic, turning the remains of our fallen kin into a forest. I have never seen woodland so tall and dense. May the stars protect us.
Traveling downstream along the Edoin River, the land quickly drops into low-lying terrain. I never knew our people had lived on the plateau all these generations. Along the way, those small-eared people gazed at us with curious eyes—perhaps I should call them the Short-Ears? They are an intelligent race, and they bear no hostility toward us. Moreover, it seems they have already established their own city-states... May they be blessed!
Last night, the 高精灵 and 亚精灵 burst into heated arguments, seemingly over a disagreement about which direction to head. The 伊丽莎白 family has ruled over us long enough! I've decided to follow the 灰精灵's group — and I need to remember to bring this notebook.
The handwriting changes again.
It seems she forgot, forgot to take this... journal? The gray elves have departed; the arduous exile sapped the fraternal bonds between us. The Shiljus family told the survivors that the exile would end at a certain lake. The high elves are nearly depleted, may Oraculum bless us. Ah, I forgot, is Oraculum already gone?
The exodus has ended. I wonder how the half-elves fared. The great lake is adjacent to a forest, reminiscent of the woods outside Golhertarna—a place I so dearly miss! They have decided to rebuild our capital, our Ferder, on the island at the heart of the great lake. I am old, perhaps it is time to give this book a name…
This book provides a detailed account of the event that occurred during the late antiquity period (The Pale Night). Due to prolonged exile, the paper has severely weathered, and much of the text has become difficult to decipher.