Divination is the Art of Sight and Knowledge, the discipline that pierces veils and discerns the hidden. Unlike Illusion, which clouds perception, Divination sharpens it. Unlike Necromancy, which tethers souls, Divination listens to them. Unlike Alchemy, which refines matter, Divination refines truth.
Its works span the breadth of time and distance. By it, the present is clarified, the past remembered, and the future glimpsed. It may uncover the secret of a locked chest, the location of a lost crown, or the path of a dagger before it strikes.
Yet Divination is no simple mirror. To gaze into truth is to touch the weave of reality itself — and reality is vast, unyielding, and merciless. The mind is not made to hold such totality, and so the Diviner risks drowning in the tide of truths that ever rush toward him.
Historically, Diviners were the first counselors of kings. It was by their foresight that Reyumi I discerned when to strike and when to retreat in the War of Darkness. Their visions warned of ambushes, revealed traitors, and uncovered relics lost for centuries. Yet they were also feared, for their words carried weight that bent courts and turned armies. “None are so trusted, nor so mistrusted, as those who see too much.”
The purpose of Divination is understanding — but understanding in its deepest sense, beyond mere knowledge.
Of the Present: To pierce deception, uncover hidden workings, and discern what lies unseen.
Of the Past: To read echoes left in stone, blood, and bone, to reconstruct what once was.
Of the Future: To glimpse threads not yet woven, possibilities that tremble on the edge of becoming.
The Diviner’s art is guidance. Where the warrior fights and the abjurer guards, the Diviner reveals. He is the torch in the darkness, but also the reminder that the torch blinds as much as it illuminates.
The Nine Laws are seen most keenly in Divination, for it treads upon truth itself:
Balance: Each glimpse of the future clouds the present. Each secret uncovered may unravel another. Many Diviners go blind to the moment at hand, so intent are they upon what lies ahead.
Conservation: Vision is never free. To pierce the veil demands offering — blood, sleepless nights, fragments of memory. Some forget the faces of loved ones, their minds filled only with truths gleaned from elsewhere.
Limitations: No sight is total. The future is never fixed, but many-threaded. A seer may know one possibility, but not the choice that will shape it. Thus, Divination deceives the arrogant who take vision as certainty.
Reflection: The Diviner becomes like his art. He grows distant, distracted, perceiving what others cannot. To converse with him is to speak with one whose eyes look always past you, as if into another world. Some grow cold, for to see all is to judge all.
Thus, the Codex warns that knowledge itself is peril, and the wise Diviner learns when not to look.
The Path of Sight is perilous, for what is seen may wound more deeply than any blade.
Madness of Too Much: The mind cannot bear infinite truths. Diviners who gaze too deeply into the Weave fracture, muttering prophecies or wandering lost, unable to distinguish vision from reality.
Burden of Knowledge: To know the day of a king’s death, the betrayal of a friend, the doom of a nation — these are truths that corrode the soul. Many Diviners fall not to madness but to despair.
Fate’s Attention: It is said that to gaze too long into the threads of destiny is to draw the gaze of those who guard them. Mavrok, the Silent Watcher, is whispered to turn his unblinking eyes upon seers who trespass too far. Such Diviners vanish, their voices carried only in the howling winds of Draethor.
The Paradox of Knowledge: To know the future is to change it. In seeking to prevent what is seen, the Diviner often ensures its coming.
Thus, the Diviner’s art is not without price. His danger is not flame nor shadow, but truth itself.
The Diviner is at once guide and outcast. All seek him in their hour of need, yet many shun him when the need is past, fearing what he might reveal.
In Courts: He whispers counsel into the ears of kings, yet his presence stirs unease, for rulers fear that their own secrets are naked before him.
In Academies: He is revered as scholar, but his fellows watch him warily, for a Diviner may know truths of his peers best left hidden.
In War: He turns the tide by revealing enemy plans, finding hidden fords, foretelling ambush. Yet his predictions may also paralyze, as generals fear to move lest prophecy ensnare them.
In Faith: Priests debate Diviners bitterly. Some claim their visions are gifts of the gods. Others condemn them as trespassers upon divine mysteries.
Thus, the Diviner ever stands at the threshold of acceptance, valued but feared, loved but distrusted.
"Thus is the Path of Divination, fourth among the Nine. It is the art of sight, the unveiling of what lies hidden. It grants wisdom but tempts despair; it gives light but blinds as well. Let the Diviner remember always: what is seen cannot be unseen, and the truth may wound more surely than any lie. He who gazes too long into the threads of fate shall find that fate gazes back — and no mortal can endure its eyes forever."
