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The Universe

The Beings of the Threshold

Not all who dwell at the thin places are Aeonian. South-east of Ribbeck, in the Spreewald, where the Spree divides into a hundred channels, people have long told of smaller wonders that lingered where the world grows thin.

  • Golden lights drifting through the evening mist over meadows and still waters of the marsh

    The Wandering Lights

    Lights that no one carries.

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    Over the meadows and in the marsh, when evening falls, lights move that no one carries. The old folk say they are not false lights that lure you into the deep, but the breath of the threshold itself made visible. Whoever does not follow them, but only watches, is shown where the here comes to its end.

  • A waterman rising half out of a dark channel, keeping between his hands what has sunk

    The Watermen

    The keepers of the channels.

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    In the dark channels of the Spreewald and the still ditches of the marsh dwells what keeps whatever sinks. You greet the water before you take from it, and take no more than you can give back. What lives there is no terror, but a measure.

  • A nocturnal wood with a narrow path, a small light glimmering in its depth; the place seems to listen

    The Quiet Ones of the Woods

    The wood that listens.

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    There are woods that seem to listen, where a single step weighs heavier than elsewhere. Nothing shows itself, and yet you are not alone. Whoever feels this and stays calm is held by the place rather than watched, and leaves richer than they came.

What They Share

None of these beings is good or evil; they are the weather of the thin places, neither friend nor foe. They want nothing but to be noticed, and ask only that the threshold where they dwell be honoured. Where the Aeonians carry the great questions, these are the small keepers of the ground on which the Chronicles unfold.

Questions on the Beings

What are the beings of the threshold?

The smaller wonders of the thin places: wandering lights over the meadows, watermen in the channels, and the quiet ones of the woods. They are not Aeonian, but belong to the weave of the world at its seams.

Are these beings good or evil?

Neither. They are the weather of the thin places, neither friend nor foe. They want nothing but to be noticed, and ask only that the threshold where they dwell be honoured.

Where does one meet them?

South-east of Ribbeck, in the Spreewald, where the Spree divides into a hundred channels. People have long told of them there.

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