A dream forgotten by time.
When the men who are now old were young, they used to tell stories of a distant domain. A tiny islet, barely a speck, indistinguishable amid the vastness of the Sea of Unshed Tears. On its summit, so the story went, a palace/prison of exquisite craftsmanship was built, fit only to be dwelled by the finest of monarchs/heretics. They call it the House of DISCORD, a cursed place that very few ever reach, and from which even fewer return.
The journey to such a coveted place is arduous; far more have perished trying to reach its shores than have managed to secure an audience with its court. According to legend, no two people can ever find their way to the House through the same path. Countless maps, trinkets, and omens that promise to guide wanderers to those distant lands are sold and traded in secrecy, all of them useless. Only those who harbor the truest intent in their hearts are allowed to embark on the journey, guided by pure instinct and the will to endure.
Many lands have been crossed, even discovered, in the search of the House. The scorching/freezing dunes, where the remains of ancient kings still lie; a mausoleum of unfinished thoughts, where the unwanted are sent to flourish/rot; or the city beyond the clouds, where masked truths/lies fall endlessly from the skies. But no matter where the path may force you, the journey will always end at the Shores of Lost Memories, where, if you have remained faithful to the way, you will be taken by the wandering guards beyond the fog, towards your final destination.
If you are somehow unable to persuade any of the guides to transport you, do not fret. There is no shame in turning back and starting over. The stories go into great detail about those who have tried to swim across the Sea of Unshed Tears by themselves and ended up disolved in their own courage/melancholy.
Reaching the lands of the Master/Servant is, however, only half of the ordeal. Once you've climbed the narrow, winding stairs to the top of the island, you'll find yourself at the gates of the House. There you will be welcomed and tended to by a court of ghostly beings, translucent shades barely clinging to existence. They wear extravagant garments sewn with exceptional intricacy, but if you look closely, you will notice that they are made of the most bizarre fabrics, such as moth wings or ancient parchments. Each and every one of them wears a black mask, intended to hide their fading features.
The lorebringers call them the "Evanescent Court," and they are what remains of your predecessors. Those who attempted the journey but ultimately lacked what was necessary to see it through. You must decline their offerings; they are only trying to make you complacent so that you, too, may join the King/Slave in eternal servitude.
Leaving aside the pestering court, the stories claim that, to reach your goal, you will also have to overcome the castle's trials and forgo all the treasures it offers. All sorts of wondrous items and relics are said to be kept within the halls of the House: there is a tower where the knowledge and memories of a hundred of the wisest men who have ever lived are preserved in jars, a hidden dungeon where one can commune with the realm of the dead through a mirror, or an armory where the weapons and armor of the fallen — who once rebelled against the very gods — are kept. All these marvels are, of course, just as cursed as their owner is, so it is best to leave them be, lest you end up lost in the past or burning in unholy retribution.
The Sage/Fool
If you will your way past all the temptations harbored within the House, then you may at last find yourself in the innermost chamber of the fortress. It is there that, long ago — even before the first vagrants began to plunge into the abyss — the one you seek was shackled.
He is the Honored/Nameless, a creature of great renown and even greater power. There are only a handful of testimonies from those who have encountered him and lived to tell the tale. According to these tortured souls, the entity is completely shrouded in layers and layers of white robes covered with arcane inscriptions in gold ink. The figure struggles to move and stumbles as it walks, for beneath his exquisite garments, the creature is tightly bound in heavy chains that hinder his movements. Where his face should be there is said to be only an absence, a hollow void carved into the form of two vacant eyes and a crooked smile. Those unfortunate enough to stare into that abyss for more than a fleeting moment rarely emerge with their minds intact.
No one knows for certain exactly who this entity was or where it came from before his coronation/imprisonment. It is not even known what power stripped him of his titles and condemned him to his miserable existence, but this has not stopped the spread and fabrication of all kinds of stories and fantasies, which can still be heard in the deepest corners of the Labyrinth. There are those who call him "The First Sinner," but that title already belongs to another, and there are those who simply believe him a powerful sorcerer who dealt with powers greater than he could control. But regardless of his true origin, what we do know is that, even stripped of his name, his flesh, and his very soul, the Patron/Enemy remains a being whose mere presence strikes fear into the highest authorities of this realm.
And yet, fear has never been enough to keep the most desperate away. For all the misery and ruin that surrounds the House of DISCORD, it still is the receptacle of one of the only beings capable of playing with the strings of fate. Once you stand before him, you will have to remain firm, and without hesitation demand both a boon/curse and a curse/boon. You may ask for whatever you wish. Some have begged for the return of a long-lost companion, others for the destruction of their enemies. Whatever it may be, know that in order to request anything in the name of love/hate, you must be able to truly desire something of equal measure in the name of hate/love. The Arbiter/Subject is not kind to the liars and the halfhearted, should he find your offer insincere, or your two desires uneven, then your fate shall be worse than that of the Evanescent Court.
But should he not, then both wishes will be granted. The boon will occur exactly as desired, and the curse shall descend with certainty. Thus, every miracle wrought by the Creator/Destroyer leaves a wound somewhere else in the Labyrinth, and every act of hatred he blesses is accompanied by an act of love made tangible.