Zaun Ajma Webzine

Webzine Archive 

Note from the Author

Thank you to everyone who checked out and shared last month’s webzine. I’m really interested in what y’all think and what you’d like to see. If you happen to follow me on Bluesky or know me on Discord or Reddit, totally drop me a line and I’d be happy to answer your questions and take requests. 

In other news, I’m editing Ggudi and the Second Strike! I released the prologue and first three chapters a couple years ago, but… let’s just say I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was to release the rest of the chapters. Around the time I published last month’s webzine, I printed out my draft, put it in a folder, and started marking it up with a red pen. So far I’ve had a thousand ideas, solved a thousand problems, and fixed a thousand errors, and it’s honestly brought me back to what I love so much about writing. 

Anyway. I cannot promise anything, but I strongly hope to release a completed novel in the summer. I love this story, and I want it completed so I can move on to the next novel, which I’m also excited about. A big part of why I’ve been working so slow is because I still haven’t found my “ideal writing process” yet. I work in bursts of inspiration/motivation, but that’s not a reliable process because it depends on my mood at the time. With having a full-time job along with other commitments, “the mood” rarely ever hits. I’ve known for a long time that work is work. If I want to write a novel I have to do it on purpose. So I’ve been running some experiments, trying to test out different processes to see what works for me and what doesn’t. So far, it’s been marginally successful, but it’s not perfect yet. 

On that note, enjoy this month’s webzine! This time, I’m focusing on the four so-called "Great Civilizations" that share the world with Wistania. Although they are certainly relevant to the story of Zaun Ajma, the plot involves Wistania much more, so I won’t be able to talk about these places that much in the novels. I hope you enjoy, and I’ll see you next month! ~ Page

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The Marhar always wins. 

Eleven generations before Marhardomos was born, a bold young woman named Tahhal stood up to the King of the Yeri and exposed his wickedness. He was secretly trafficking his own people to the border tribes for his own personal enrichment. Tahhal had never met the King, nor had any personal relationships with any of the alleged trafficking victims, nor did she live or frequent around the areas that the trafficking was taking place, but she spoke with such conviction and wisdom, even under the threat of execution, that weeks of investigations and political turmoil ensued. Finally, it was the King who was put to death. Tahhal had been proven right. 

Tahhal founded the Family of Marhar, a line of women and men who bore the same birthmark: a pale diamond in the center of their forehead. According to the legend, that mark contains the secrets of the Heaven Tree, and it has been passed down to one child each generation, no matter what. The source of this mystical power was a crystal-white shard that reflected every color of the rainbow to those who looked upon it. It was called the Marhar, and all who were blessed by it were given the name of Marhar, beginning with Marhartahhal. 

The family line has always been under threat, whether by enemies who wanted to eliminate the Yeri’s prophetic advantage, corrupt leaders who wished to cover up their scandals, or even members of the Marhar who wasted their power and position. 

Marhardomos’ induction ceremony as the eleventh Prophet of the Heaven Tree was met by all three threats. A foreign adversary wanted to steal the Marhar to establish their own prophetic line. A Yeri treasurer was using tax revenue to bribe tribe leaders and pay off personal debt. Then, Marhardomos’ mother refused the role as Prophet. She forced her father to carry the title until his death, and then immediately handed the title to her unwanted son when he was only 17. 

Kneeling before the pool of enigmas, in the presence of the Eight Branch Tribes, Domos was blessed and named Mahardomos. Visions flashed before his eyes, the pool of enigmas spilled off its edges, and the walls of the temple cracked and crumbled. Once his senses came to, he was already lying face-first in his own blood. Piercing fire erupted from his left and right. Metal clashed and clanged around him. Death. War. Indiscriminate destruction. A perfectly timed ambush, with all the correct pieces in place, obliterated the Yeri. And thus, one of the four Great Civilizations of Vaal fell. 

All except for one part.

Remember? The Marhar always wins.

For thousands of years, Minsan believers have relied on the “True God” to give them strength as they expand across the world and quell the forces of the “False God.” Although they aren’t necessarily associated with good and evil, the True God is accredited to leading its followers to success, prosperity, and glory. The False God, however, leads to failure, poverty, and ignominy.

For most people, the only opportunity they have to learn about the True God and False God are during stage plays. Whether the production is elaborate and professional, or run by amateurs on a street corner, these two characters feature heavily in most plays, where they are invisible to the other characters, but visible to the audience. The True God, cloaked in bright red, descends from the sky and blesses the heroes with great fortune. However, the False God creeps in from the wilderness and challenges the hero with great trouble. 

The apparent lack of an established theology or creed for these two opposing deities is a feature of Minsan thought. There is a massive tome of sacred scriptures concerning the two, but their words are esoteric and often contradictory and only the most dedicated have read the whole thing. Emperors and tyrants have used this ambiguity to their advantage to push agendas without much resistance, but so have the lowly revolutionaries who feel empowered by the gods to rise against their oppressors.

Minsa is the only one of the four Great Civilizations that have not yet fallen. They attribute their success and longevity to their alignment with the True God, who has blessed them with expansive power. With that said, however, a wise Minsan knows that the False God is never too far behind.

LOCATION SPOTLIGHT

Hel-Jupitti

“This valley is beautiful, friend. Don’t pity me. My responsibility to watch over it is a great privilege.” - Bas Eleris

When foreign ships arrived on the southern coast of the Minsan territory, many were afraid they were hostile. The people on the ships wore strange clothes and spoke a weird language. Their stories involved wide hand gestures and dramatic mouthy noises, signaling a terrible storm and a deep cold that drove them out of their homeland. These people were sick, hungry, and desperate. They weren’t there to threaten war. They were looking for refuge.

Ithrea was once a massive swath of lush, resource-rich land. The first peoples lauded nature as their god. Managing its resources and protecting its beauty was a sacred duty, and they adhered to strict agricultural rules that not only protected plant and animal life, but also provided abundant crops for all. If any man rose up and proclaimed they were the rightful leader of Ithrea, the sages would challenge them to stare at the sun for a day. If the sun did not erase their vision, then they could take its place as ruler.

Winters were harsh, however. The Clouds of Wind and Snow were lingering, bitter, and merciless. Nonetheless, the Ithreans were resourceful, and with proper management of their food and water, they could survive with little hardship.

Then the winters became harsher, colder, and longer. Year by year, the thriving society of Ithrea struggled to provide for its people. The sages prayed, fasted, and even sacrificed themselves to end the long winters, but nothing would work. Eventually, the warm seasons were no longer warm enough, and the Great Civilization of Ithrea was plunged into a frozen famine. Most of the survivors fled northward, but some few chose to stay and continue petitioning the sun to drive away the winter. 

The center of Ithrean society was a valley called Hel-Jupitti, previously a hub of commerce and trade. Now, it’s a ghost buried in snow and inhabited by only a handful of sages. These sages’ first and only priority is to return Ithrea to the grassy oasis it once was, and there is nothing they are unwilling to sacrifice to do it.