The third and final act
I wrote Parts One and Two over the course of a year. Then everything froze. For ten months, not a word. I couldn’t even publish my usual essays. It wasn’t that I couldn’t write—only that nothing felt right. I almost gave up: on the book, and on fiction itself. What had begun so clearheaded had come to a dead end.
That dead end is still in the story. I won’t tell you where, but you’ll recognize it when you reach it. It’s that moment when you sit down and ask yourself if there is still a reason to go on. The moment of and now what?
Release came when I stopped trying to steer the story and simply followed it. When I let the next word lead me. Then Eldon, Auryn, and Liora began to tell me what to write. I wrote in a frenzy for weeks—roughly a chapter a day, as you’ve been reading them.
I knew it would be a tough sell. It has no clear genre, it isn’t quite literature, and I suspect it would live best as a printed book. What I didn’t anticipate was the insane political circus next door, battling for your attention.
Slowing down
This book is a slow burn, and I’ll adjust the release accordingly—to give more readers time to sink into The Pyrrha Prayers. From here on, new chapters will appear on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Still faster than the average serial, but not so fast that the story slips past unnoticed.
Its relevance is not obvious. Much resides beneath the surface. If you’ve read this far, you’ve likely begun to sense the deeper layers. Not everything is spoken aloud. Much is implicit—only visible when you sit with it.
This story asks for a different kind of attention. Not the quick, scanning one. A wider one.
It asks you to use your imagination.
It isn’t pretending to be real—not in the way we’ve grown used to. It doesn’t try to convince you, only to invite you: to open the inner theater and let it arrive. (Tomorrow I’ll also launch the first installment of The Practice of Imagination, a twelve part deep dive into restoring that base faculty.)
What happened until now?
There are spoilers ahead so stop reading if you want to start from the top. But you are forgiven when you want to board the train here.
It all began in Eldon’s walled garden, as he was called by Auryn after almost thirty years of solitude. Part One ends with Eldon trying to force open his blocked water inlet with a gas explosion, just as he is visited by a young woman who looks like his daughter.
Part Two follows Auryn. We hear how Eldon ended up in his paradise prison, how she became the one assembling the initiatory set for the Pyrrha Project, and how things began to fall apart back in 2042.
In Part Three, we shift to Liora—the young woman who witnesses Eldon’s desperate attempt. The thread picks up right after the detonation. And from here, the braiding begins.
Travel with us to a fictitious valley, 47 years into our future.